The Augustan Reprint Society PREFACES TO FICTION Georges de Scudéry, Preface to _Ibrahim_ (1674) Mary De la Riviere Manley, Preface to _The SecretHistory of Queen Zarah_ (1705) Jean-Baptiste de Boyer, Marquis d'Argens, _The JewishSpy_ (1744), Letter 35 William Warburton, Preface to Volumes III andIV (1748) of Richardson's _Clarissa_ Samuel Derrick, Preface to d'Argens's _Memoirs ofThe Count Du Beauval_ (1754) With an Introduction by Benjamin Boyce Publication Number 32 Los AngelesWilliam Andrews Clark Memorial LibraryUniversity of California1952 * * * * * GENERAL EDITORS H. RICHARD ARCHER, _Clark Memorial Library_RICHARD C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_JOHN LOFTIS, _University of California, Los Angeles_ ASSISTANT EDITOR W. EARL BRITTON, _University of Michigan_ ADVISORY EDITORS EMMETT L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_BENJAMIN BOYCE, _Duke University_LOUIS I. BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_CLEANTH BROOKS, _Yale University_JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_LOUIS A. LANDA, _Princeton University_SAMUEL H. MONK, _University of Minnesota_ERNEST MOSSNER, _University of Texas_JAMES SUTHERLAND, _University College, London_H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR. , _University of California, Los Angeles_ INTRODUCTION The development of the English novel is one of the triumphs of theeighteenth century. Criticism of prose fiction during that period, however, is less impressive, being neither strikingly original norprofound nor usually more than fragmentary. Because the earlystatements of theory were mostly very brief and are now obscurelyburied in rare books, one may come upon the well conceived "program"of _Joseph Andrews_ and _Tom Jones_ with some surprise. But if onelooks in the right places one will realize that mid-eighteenthcentury notions about prose fiction had a substantial background inearlier writing. And as in the case of other branches of literarytheory in the Augustan period, the original expression of theorganized doctrine was French. In Georges de Scudéry's preface to_Ibrahim_ (1641)[1] and in a conversation on the art of inventing a"Fable" in Book VIII (1656) of his sister Madeleine's _Clélie_ areto be found the grounds of criticism in prose fiction; practicallyall the principles are here which eighteenth-century theoristsadopted, or seemed to adopt, or from which they developed, often bythe simple process of contradiction, their new principles. That many of the ideas in the preface to _Ibrahim_ were not new evenin 1641 becomes plain if one reads the discussions of romancewritten by Giraldi Cinthio and Tasso. [2] The particular way in whichMlle. De Scudéry attempted to carry out those ideas in her later, more subjective works she obligingly set forth in _Clélie_ in thepassage already alluded to. There it is explained that awell-contrived romance "is not only handsomer than the truth, butwithal, more probable;" that "impossible things, and such as are lowand common, must almost equally be avoided;" that each person in thestory must always act according to his own "temper;" that "thenature of the passions ought necessarily to be understood, and whatthey work in the hearts of those who are possess'd with them. " Hewho attempts an "ingenious Fable" must have greataccomplishments--wit, fancy, judgment, memory; "an universalknowledge of the World, of the Interest of Princes, and the humorsof Nations, " and of both closet-policy and the art of war;familiarity with "politeness of conversation, the art of ingeniousraillery, and that of making innocent Satyrs; nor must he beignorant of that of composing of Verses, writing Letters, and makingOrations. " The "secrets of all hearts" must be his and "how to takeaway plainness and driness from Morality. "[3] The assumption that the new prose fiction could be judged, as theScudérys professed to judge their work, first of all by reference tothe rules of heroic poetry is frequent in the next century--in theunlikely Mrs. Davys (preface, _Works_, 1725); in _Joseph Andrews_ ofcourse, where the rules of the serious epic and of the heroicromance are to aid the author in copying the ancient but, as ithappens, nonexistent comic epic; and in Fielding's preface to hissister's _David Simple_ (1744). Both Richardson and Fielding wereattacked on epic grounds. [4] Dr. Johnson's interesting andunfriendly essay on recent prose fiction (_Rambler_ No. 4) adoptedthe terminology familiar in the criticism of epic and romance andshowed that Johnson, unlike d'Argens and Fielding, did not intendto give any of the old doctrines new meanings in a way to justifyrealism. Johnson laughed a little in that essay at the heroicromances; but like Mlle. De Scudéry, whose _Conversations_ he drewon for a footnote in his edition of Shakespeare (1765), [5] hebelieved that fiction should be "probable" and yet should idealizelife and men and observe poetic Justice. Many other writers on prosefiction borrowed the old neo-classic rules, and they applied themoften so carelessly and so insincerely that one is glad to comeeventually on signs of rebellion, even if from the sentimentalists:"I know not, " wrote Elizabeth Griffith in the preface to _TheDelicate Distress_ (1769), "whether novel, like the _epopée_, hasany rules, peculiar to itself. .. . Sensibility is, in my mind, asnecessary, as taste, to intitle us to judge of a work, like this. " The theory of prose fiction offered by the Scudérys was, on thewhole, better than their practice. The same remark can be made witheven greater assurance of _The Secret History of Queen Zarah, andthe Zarazians_ (1705) and the other political-scandalous "histories"of Mary De la Riviere Manley. For in spite of the faults of _QueenZarah_, the preface is one of the most substantial discussions ofprose fiction in the century. Boldly and reasonably it repudiatesthe most characteristic features of the heroic romance--the vastnessproduced by intercalated stories; the idealized characters, almost"exempted from all the Weakness of Humane Nature;" the marvelousadventures and remote settings; the essay-like conversations; theadulatory attitude; and poetic Justice. _Vraisemblance_ and_decorum_, we are told, are still obligatory, but the probablecharacter, action, dialogue will now be less prodigious, will becloser to real life as the modern English reader knows it. Thus Mrs. Manley announced a point of view which was, at least in mostrespects, to dominate the theory and invigorate the practice ofprose fiction throughout the century. A significant phase of Mrs. Manley's discussion is the emphasis uponindividual characterization and, in characters, upon not only the"predominant Quality" and ruling passion of each but also upon theelusive and surprising "Turnings and Motions of HumaneUnderstanding. " Here one should recognize the influence ofhistorical writing rather than of poetry. As René Rapin had madeclear in Chapter XX of his _Instructions for History_ (J. Davies'stranslation, 1680), the historian writes the best portraits whofinds the "essential and distinctive lines" of a man's character andthe "secret motions and inclinations of [his] Heart. " But Mrs. Manley's remarks go beyond Rapin's in implying faith in a sort ofscientific psychology, especially of "the passions. " Other writersshowed the same interest and worked toward the same end. Thus HenryGally in his essay on Theophrastus and the Character was so carriedaway by a notion of the importance of the Character-writer's knowingall about the passions that he allowed himself to say that only bysuch a knowledge could a Character be made to "hit one Person, andhim only"[6]--the goal obviously not of the Character-writer but ofthe historian and the novelist. The authors of _The Cry_[7] (1754)regarded the unfolding of "the labyrinths of the human mind" as anarduous but necessary task; indeed they went on to declare that the"motives to actions, and the inward turns of mind, seem in ouropinion more necessary to be known than the actions themselves. " Itwas Fielding's refusal, in spite of the titles of his books, towrite like an historian with highly individualized and psychologicalcharacterizations that caused his admirer Arthur Murphy to admit inhis "Essay" on Fielding that "Fielding was more attached to the_manners_ than to the _heart_. "[8] He thought Fielding inferior toMarivaux in revealing the heart just as Johnson, according toBoswell, preferred Richardson to Fielding because the formerpresented "characters of nature" whereas the latter created only"characters of manners. " The author of "A Short Discourse on NovelWriting" prefixed to _Constantia; or, A True Picture of Human Life_(1751) went so far as to say that prose fiction may teach more aboutthe "sources, symptoms, and inevitable consequences" of the passionsthan could easily be taught in any other way. The increasinglysubjective and individualized characterization in English fictionwas well supported in contemporary theory. _The Jewish Spy_, translated from the _Lettres Juives_ (1736-38) ofJean-Baptiste de Boyer, Marquis d'Argens, is an early example ofcitizen-of-the-world literature and contains in its five volumes a"Philosophical, Historical and Critical Correspondence" dealing withFrench, English, Italian, and other matters. The work had a Europeanvogue, and there were at least two English translations, the presentone, issued in 1739, 1744, and 1766, and another, called _JewishLetters_, published at Newcastle in 1746. (The Dublin edition of1753 I have not seen. ) Though d'Argens's purpose in Letter 35 mayhave been to advertise his own novel, what he had to say isinteresting. Like many others, he could scoff at the heroic romancesand yet borrow and quietly modify the doctrines of _Ibrahim_ and_Clélie_. He proposed a still more "advanced" _vraisemblance_ and_decorum_--psychological analysis tinged with cynicism rather thanidealism; gallantry but against the background sometimes of themodern city; a plainer style; and only such matters as seemed tothis student of Descartes and Locke to be entirely reasonable. Fielding's chapter in _Tom Jones_ (IX, i) "Of Those Who LawfullyMay, and of Those Who May Not, Write Such Histories as This" couldbe taken as an indication that he knew not only what Mlle. DeScudéry thought were the accomplishments of the romancer but that hehad read d'Argens's words on that subject too. Both d'Argens andFielding believed that in addition to "Genius, Wit, and Learning"the novelist must have a knowledge of the world and of all degreesof men, distinguishing the style of high people from that of low. They agreed that a writer must have felt a passion before he couldpaint it successfully. Much more goes into the making of a novel, they sarcastically pointed out, than pens, ink, and quires of paper. D'Argens, like Fielding, relished reflective passages and couldapprove, more readily than Mrs. Manley, of "an Historian that amuseshimself by Moralizing or Describing. " D'Argens's list of thefeatures to be found in good history and good fiction shows him tobe a thoroughgoing rationalist and separates his ideal from that ofyoung readers, who, according to the preface to _The Adventures ofTheagenes and Chariclia_ (1717), wish to hear of "Flame and Spiritin an Author, of fine Harangues, just Characters, moving Scenes, delicacy of Contrivance, surprising turns of action . .. Indeed thechoicest Beauties of a _Romance_. " The two novels that d'Argens recommended had different fortunes inEngland. D'Argens's book, _Memoires du Marquis de Mirmon, ou LeSolitaire Philosophe_ (Amsterdam, 1736) was never translated intoEnglish and apparently was not much read. But Claude Prosper Jolyotde Crébillon, the younger, was extolled by Thomas Gray and HoraceWalpole, quoted by Sarah Fielding, [9] and had the honor, if one cantrust Walpole, of an offer of keeping from Lady Mary WortleyMontagu. His _Égaremens du Coeur et de l'Esprit_ (1736-38) wastranslated in 1751[10] and is the novel which Yorick helped the_fille de chambre_ slide into her pocket. Crébillon was damned, however, in _The World_ (No. 19, May 10, 1753) in an essay that, oddly enough, reminds one of d'Argens's Letter 35. The work referredto in the third footnote on page 258 is _Le Chevalier des Essars etla Comtesse de Berci_ (1735) by Ignace-Vincent Guillot de LaChassagne. The last footnote on that page refers to G. H. Bougeant'ssatire, _Voyage Merveilleux du Prince Fan-Férédin dans la Romancie_(1735). The preface which William Warburton was invited by Richardson tosupply for Volumes III and IV of _Clarissa_ when they first appearedin 1748 has never, I think, been reprinted in full. Richardsondropped it from the second edition (1749) of _Clarissa_, probablybecause he relished neither its implication that he was followingFrench precedents nor its suggestion that his work was one "of mereAmusement. " In the "Advertisement" in the first volume of the secondedition he insisted that _Clarissa_ was "not to be considered as a_mere Amusement_, as a _light Novel_, or _transitory Romance_; butas a _History_ of LIFE and MANNERS . .. Intended to inculcate theHIGHEST and _most_ IMPORTANT _Doctrines_. "[11] Warburton, offendedin turn perhaps, thriftily salvaged more than half of the preface(paragraphs 2 to 6) to use as a footnote in his edition of AlexanderPope, [12] but he there made a striking change: not Richardson butMarivaux and Fielding were praised as the authors who, with theextra enrichment of comic art, had brought the novel of "real LIFEAND MANNERS . .. To its perfection. " The important principle of prose fiction which Richardson andWarburton recognized--that there is power in a detailed picture ofthe private life of the middle class--had been suggested earlier. Mrs. Manley could not voice it, at least not in _Queen Zarah_, wherethe Duke and Duchess of Marlborough, Godolphln, and Queen Anne wereto be leading characters. But her sometime-friend Richard Steelecould. Having laughed in _The Tender Husband_ (1705) at a girl whosejudgment of life was seriously--or, rather, comically--warped by herreading of heroic romances, Steele made a positive plea in _Tatler_No. 172 for histories of "such adventures as befall persons notexalted above the common level. " Books of this sort, still rare in1710, would be of great value to "the ordinary race of men. " Theanonymous preface to _The Adventures of Theagenes and Chariclia_seven years later attributed to Heliodorus's romance the value ofsuggesting rules "for conducting our Affairs in common Actions ofLife. " In 1751 when the new realism was a _fait accompli_, theauthor of _An Essay on the New Species of Writing Founded by Mr. Fielding_ declared roundly (p. 19) that in the new fiction thecharacters should be "taken from common Life. " A good argument infavor of books about "private persons" was offered in the preface tothe English translation of the Abbé Prévost's novel, _The Life AndEntertaining Adventures of Mr. Cleveland, Natural Son of OliverCromwell_ (1741): "The history of kingdoms and empires, raises ouradmiration, by the solemnity . .. Of the images, and furnishes one ofthe noblest entertainments. But at the same time that it is so wellsuited to delight the imagination, it yet is not so apt to touch andaffect as the history of private men; the reason of which seems tobe, that the personages in the former, are so far above the commonlevel, that we consider ourselves, in some measure, as aliens tothem; whereas those who act in a lower sphere, are look'd upon by usas a kind of relatives, from the similitude of conditions; whence weare more intimately mov'd with whatever concerns us. " A comparisonof the first two paragraphs of this preface and the first fourparagraphs of Johnson's _Rambler_ No. 60, if it does not discoverthe source of part of Johnson's paper, will at least reveal how thedefender of the fictional "secret history" and a famous champion ofintimate biography played into each other's hands. Johnson'sappearing to follow the defender of French fiction here is all themore interesting when one recalls his alarm in _Rambler_ No. 4 overthe prevailing taste for novels that exhibited, unexpurgated, "Lifein its true State, diversified only by the Accidents that dailyhappen in the World. " Indeed if it were not for Fielding himself, one might imagine from Johnson's unsteady and generallyunsatisfactory criticism of prose fiction that the old neo-classicalprinciples were completely out of date and useless. Samuel Derrick, the editor of Dryden and friend of Boswell for whomJohnson "had a kindness" but not much respect, the "pretty littlegentleman" described by Smollett's Lydia Melford, translated the_Memoirs of the Count Du Beauval_ from _Le Mentor Cavalier, ou LesIllustres Infortunez de Notre Siecle_ ("Londres, " 1736) by theMarquis d'Argens. Only the second paragraph of Derrick's prefacecame from d'Argens, but the drift of the Frenchman's ideas toward"le Naturel" is well sustained in Derrick's praise, no doubt basedon Warburton's, of writers who present scenes that "are daily foundto move beneath their Inspection. " There are ties with the doctrinesof 1641 even in this preface, but the transformation of_vraisemblance_ and _decorum_ was sufficiently advanced for theneeds of the day. Benjamin BoyceDuke University NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION [1] Most scholars attribute the preface to Georges deScudéry, but it seems impossible to say whether he collaborated withhis sister in writing the romance itself or whether the work waswritten entirely by her. Cogan's translation of _Ibrahim_ and the preface appeared first in1652. [2] See the texts in Allan H. Gilbert's _LiteraryCriticism: Plato to Dryden_ (N. Y. : American Book Co. , 1940) and thediscussion in A. E. Parsons' "The English Heroic Play, " _MLR_, XXXIII(1938), 1-14. [3] _Clelia. An Excellent New Romance. The Fourth Volume. .. Rendered into English by G. H. _ (1677; Part IV, Book II), pp. 540-543. [4] See _An Apology for the Life of Mr. Bempfylde-MooreCarew . .. The Sixth Edition_, p. Xix; _Critical Remarks on SirCharles Grandison_ (1754), p. 20. [5] IV, 184. The footnote could have come, contrary to theassertion of Sir Walter Raleigh (_Six Essays_ [Oxford, 1910], p. 94), from either the original French (_Conversations sur DiversSujets_ [Paris, 1680], II, 586-587) or the English translation(1683, II, 102). In both editions, the passage appears soon afterthe dialogue on how to compose a romance. I am indebted to Dr. Arthur M. Eastman for help in tracing Raleigh's vague reference. [6] _The Moral Characters of Theophrastus_ (1725), pp. 31-32. [7] Jane Collier and Sarah Fielding. [8] The "Essay" was written in 1762, but I quote it as itappeared in the third edition (1766) of _The Works of HenryFielding_, I, 75. [9] James B. Foster, _History of the Pre-Romantic Novel inEngland_ (N. Y. : Modern Lang. Assoc. , 1949), p. 76. [10] _The Wanderings of the Heart and Mind: or, Memoirs ofMr. De Meilcour_, translated by M. Clancy. Clara Reeve maintained in1785 that Crébillon's book was never popular in England and that"Some pious person, fearing it might poison the minds of youth . .. Wrote a book of meditations with the same title, and _this_ was thebook that _Yorick's fille de Chambre_ was purchasing" (_The Progressof Romance_ [N. Y. : Facsimile Text Society, 1930], pp. 130-131). [11] Richardson said that he dropped Warburton's prefacebecause _Clarissa_ had been well received and no longer needed suchan introduction. A fourth explanation of the natter and much otherrelevant information were presented by Ronald S. Crane, "Richardson, Warburton and French Fiction, " _MLR_, XVII (1922), 17-23. [12] _The Works of Alexander Pope_ (1751), IV, 166-169. Thefootnote is on line 146 of the Epistle to Augustus ("And ev'ryflow'ry Courtier writ Romance"). IBRAHIM, OR THE ILLUSTRIOUS BASSA. * * * * * The whole Work, In Four Parts. Written in French by _Monsieur de Scudéry_, And Now Englished by Henry Cogan, Gent. * * * * * London, Printed by _J. R. _ and are to be sold by _Peter Parker_, at his Shopat the _Leg_ and _Star_ over against the Royal Exchange, and _ThomasGuy_, at the Corner-shop of _Little-Lumbard street_ and _Cornhil_, 1674. _IBRAHIM, or The Illustrious Bassa_ THE PREFACE I do not know what kind of praise the Ancients thought they gave tothat Painter, who not able to end his Work, finished it accidentallyby throwing his pencil against his Picture; but I know very well, that it should not have obliged me, and that I should have taken itrather for a Satyre, than an Elogium. The operations of the Spiritare too important to be left to the conduct of chance, and I hadrather be accused for failing out of knowledge, than for doing wellwithout minding it. There is nothing which temerity doth notundertake, and which Fortune doth not bring to pass; but when a manrelies on those two Guides, if he doth not erre, he may erre; and ofthis sort, even when the events are successefull, no glory ismerited thereby. Every Art hath its certain rules, which byinfallible means lead to the ends proposed; and provided that anArchitect takes his measures right, he is assured of the beauty ofhis Building. Believe not for all this, Reader, that I will concludefrom thence my work is compleat, because I have followed the ruleswhich may render it so: I know that it is of this labour, as of theMathematical Sciences, where the operation may fail, but the Artdoth never fail; nor do I make this discourse but to shew you, thatif I have left some faults in my Book, they are the effects of myweakness, and not of my negligence. Suffer me then to discover untoyou all the resorts of this frame, and let you see, if not all thatI have done, at leastwise all that I have endeavoured to doe. Whereas we cannot be knowing but of that which others do teach us, and that it is for him that comes after, to follow them who precedehim, I have believed, that for the laying the ground-plot of thiswork, we are to consult with the Grecians, who have been our firstMasters, pursue the course which they have held, and labour inimitating them to arrive at the same end, which those great menpropounded to themselves. I have seen in those famous _Romanzes_ ofAntiquity, that in imitation of the Epique Poem there is a principalaction whereunto all the rest, which reign over all the work, arefastned, and which makes them that they are not employed, but forthe conducting of it to its perfection. The action in _HomersIliades_ is the destrustion of _Troy_; in his _Odysseas_ the returnof _Ulysses_ to _Ithaca_; in _Virgil_ the death of _Turnus_, or tosay better, the conquest of _Italy_; neerer to our times, in _Tasso_the taking of _Jerusalem_; and to pass from the Poem to the_Romanze_, which is my principal object, in _Helidorus_ the marriageof _Theagines_ and _Cariclia_. It is not because the Episodes in theone, and the several Histories in the other, are not rather beautiesthan defects; but it is alwayes necessary, that the Addresse of himwhich employes them should hold them in some sort to this principalaction, to the end, that by this ingenious concatenation, all theparts of them should make but one body, and that nothing may be seenin them which is loose and unprofitable. Thus the marriage of my_Justiniano_ and his _Isabella_, being the object which I haveproposed unto my self, I have employed all my care so to doe, thatall parts of my work may tend to that conclusion; that there may bea strong connexion between them; and that, except the obstacle whichFortune opposeth to the desires of my _Hero_'s, all things mayadvance, or at leastwise endeavour to advance his marriage, which isthe end of my labour. Now those great Geniusses of antiquity, fromwhom I borrow my light, knowing that well-ordering is one of theprincipal parts of a piece, have given so excellent a one to theirspeaking Pictures, that it would be as much stupidity, as pride, notto imitate them. They have not done like those Painters, who presentin one and the same cloth a Prince in the Cradle, upon the Throne, and in the Tombe, perplexing, by this so little judicious aconfusion, him that considers their work; but with an incomparableaddress they begin their History in the midle, so to give somesuspence to the Reader, even from the first opening of the Book; andto confine themselves within reasonable bounds they have made theHistory (as I likewise have done after them) not to last above ayear, the rest being delivered by Narration. Thus all things beingingeniously placed, and of a just greatness, no doubt, but pleasurewill redound from thence to him that beholds them, and glory to himthat hath done them. But amongst all the rules which are to beobserved in the composition of these works, that of true resemblanceis without question the most necessary; it is, as it were, thefundamental stone of this building, and but upon which it cannotsubsist; without it nothing can move, without it nothing can please:and if this charming deceiver doth not beguile the mind in_Romanzes_, this kinde of reading disgusts, instead of entertainingit: I have laboured then never to eloigne my self from it, and tothat purpose I have observed the Manners, Customs, Religions, andInclinations of People: and to give a more true resemblance tothings, I have made the foundations of my work Historical, myprincipal Personages such as are marked out in the true History forillustrious persons, and the wars effective. This is the waydoubtless, whereby one may arrive at his end; for when as falshoodand truth are confounded by a dexterous hand, wit hath much adoe todisintangle them, and is not easily carried to destroy that whichpleaseth it; contrarily, whenas invention doth not make use of thisartifice, and that falshood is produced openly, this gross untruthmakes no impression in the soul, nor gives any delight: As indeedhow should I be touched with the misfortunes of the Queen of_Gundaya_, and of the King of _Astrobacia_, whenas I know their veryKingdoms are not in the universal Mapp, or, to say better, in thebeing of things? But this is not the only defect which may carry usfrom the true resemblance, for we have at other times seen_Romanzes_, which set before us monsters, in thinking to let us seeMiracles; their Authors by adhering too much to wonders have madeGrotesques, which have not a little of the visions of a burningFeaver; and one might demand of these Messieurs with more reason, than the Duke of _Ferrara_ did of _Ariosto_, after he had read his_Orlando, Messer Lodovico done diavolo havete pigliato tantecoyonerie_? As for me, I hold, that the more natural adventuresare, the more satisfaction they give; and the ordinary course of theSun seems more marvellous to me, than the strange and deadly rayesof Comets; for which reason it is also that I have not caused somany Shipwrecks, as there are in some ancient _Romanzes_; and tospeak seriously, _Du Bartas_ might say of these Authors, _That with their word they bind, Or loose, at will, the blowing of the wind. _ So as one might think that _Æolus_ hath given them the Windsinclosed in a bagg, as he gave them to _Ulysses_, so patly do theyunchain them; they make tempests and shipwracks when they please, they raise them on the Pacifique Sea, they find rocks and shelveswhere the most expert Pilots have never observed any: But they whichdispose thus of the winds, know not how the Prophet doth assure us, that God keeps them in his Treasures; and that Philosophy, as clearsighted as it is, could never discover their retreat. Howbeit Ipretend not hereby to banish Shipwrecks from _Romanzes_, I approveof them in the works of others, and make use of them in mine; I knowlikewise, that the Sea is the Scene most proper to make greatchanges in, and that some have named it the Theatre of inconstancy;but as all excess is vicious, I have made use of it but moderately, for to conserve true resembling: Now the same design is the causealso, that my _Heros_ is not oppressed with such a prodigiousquantity of accidents, as arrive unto some others, for thataccording to my sense, the same is far from true resemblance, thelife of no man having ever been so cross'd. It would be better in myopinion to separate the adventures, to form divers Histories ofthem, and to make persons acting, thereby to appear both fertile andjudicious together, and to be still within this so necessary trueresemblance. And indeed they who have made one man alone defeatwhole Armies, have forgotten the Proverb which saith, _not oneagainst two_; and know not that Antiquity doth assure us, how_Hercules_ would in that case be too weak. It is without all doubt, that to represent a true heroical courage, one should make itexecute some thing extraordinary, as it were by a transport of the_Heros_; but he must not continue in that sort, for so thoseincredible actions would degenerate into ridiculous Fables, andnever move the mind. This fault is the cause also of committinganother; for they which doe nothing but heap adventure uponadventure, without ornament, and without stirring up passions by theartifices of Rhetorick, or irksome, in thinking to be the moreentertaining. This dry Narration, and without art, hath more of anold Chronicle, than of a _Romanze_, which may very well beimbellished with those ornaments, since History, as severe andscrupulous as it is, doth not forbear employing them. CertainAuthors, after they have described an adventure, a daring design, orsome surprising event, able to possess one with the bravestapprehensions in the world, are contented to assure us, that such a_Heros_ thought of very gallant things, without telling us what theyare; and this is that alone which I desire to know: For how can Itell, whether in these events Fortune hath not done as much as he?whether his valour be not a brutish valour? and whether he hath bornthe misfortunes that arrived unto him, as a worthy man should doe?it is not by things without him, it is not by the caprichioes ofdestiny, that I will judge of him; it is by the motions of his soul, and by that which he speaketh. I honour all them that write at thisday; I know their persons, their works, their merits; but ascanonizing is for none but the dead, they will not take it ill if Ido not Deifie them, since they are living. And in this occasion Ipropose no other example, than the great and incomparable _Urfé_;certainly it must be acknowledged that he hath merited hisreputation; that the love which all the earth bears him is just; andthat so many different Nations, which have translated his Book intotheir tongues, had reason to do it: as for me, I confess openly, that I am his adorer; these twenty years I have loved him, he isindeed admirable over all; he is fertile in his inventions, and ininventions reasonable; every thing in him is mervellous, every thingin him is excellent; and that which is more important, every thingin him is natural, and truly resembling: But amongst many rarematters, that which I most esteem of is, that he knows how to touchthe passions so delicately, that he may be called the Painter of theSoul; he goes searching out in the bottom of hearts the most secretthoughts; and in the diversity of natures, which he represents, eveyone findes his own pourtrait, so that _If amongst mortals any be That merits Altars_, Urfé's _he Who can alone pretend thereto. _ Certainly there is nothing more important in this kind ofcomposition, than strongly to imprint the Idea, or (to say better)the image of the _Heroes_ in the mind of the Reader, but in suchsort, as if they were known to them; for that it is whichinteresseth him in their adventures, and from thence his delightcometh, now to make them be known perfectly, it is not sufficient tosay how many times they have suffered shipwreck, and how many timesthey have encountered Robbers, but their inclinations must be madeto appear by their discourse: otherwise one may rightly apply tothese dumb _Heroes_ that excellent motto of Antiquity, _Speak that Imay see thee_. And if from true resemblance and inclinations, expressed by words, we will pass unto manners, goe from the pleasantto the profitable, and from Delight to Example, I am to tell you, Reader, that here Vertue is seen to be alwayes recompenced, and Vicealwayes punished, if he that hath followed his unruliness hath notby a just and sensible repentance obtained Grace from Heaven; towhich purpose I have also observed equality of manners in all thepersons that do act, unless it be whereas they are disordered bypassions, and touched with remorse. I have had a care likewise to deal in such sort, as the faults, which great ones have committed in my History, should be causedeither by Love or by Ambition, which are the Noblest of passions, and that they be imputed to the evil counsell of Flatterers; that sothe respect, which is alwayes due unto Kings, may be preserved. Youshall see there, Reader, if I be not deceived, the comeliness ofthings and conditions exactly enough observed; neither have I putany thing into my Book, which the Ladies may not read withoutblushing. And if you see not my _Hero_ persecuted with Love byWomen, it is not because he was not amiable, and that he could notbe loved, but because it would clash with Civility in the persons ofLadies, and with true resemblance in that of men, who rarely shewthemselves cruel unto them, nor in doing it could have any goodgrace: Finally, whether things ought to be so, or whether I havejudged of my _Hero_ by mine own weakness, I would not expose hisfidelity to that dangerous triall, but have been contented to makeno _Hilas_, nor yet an _Hipolitus_ of him. But whilest I speak of Civility, it is fit I should tell you (forfear I be accused of falling therein) that if you see throughout allmy Work, whenas _Soliman_ is spoken unto, Thy Highness, ThyMajestie, and that in conclusion he is treated with Thee, and notwith You, it is not for want of Respect, but contrarily it is tohave the more, and to observe the custom of those people, who speakafter that sort to their Sovereigns. And if the Authority of theliving may be of as much force, as that of the dead, you shall findexamples of it in the most famous _Othomans_, and you shall see thattheir Authors have not been afraid to employ in their own Tongue amanner of speaking, which they have drawn from the Greek and Latin;and then too I have made it appear clearlie, that I have not done itwithout design; for unless it be whenas the Turks speak to theSultan, or he to his Inferiours, I have never made use of it, andeither of them doth use it to each other. Now for fear it may be objected unto me, that I have approached someincidents nearer than the Historie hath shewed them to be, great_Virgil_ shall be my Warrant, who in his Divine _Æneids_ hath made_Dido_ appear four Ages after her own; wherefore I have believed Imight do of some moneths, what he hath done of so many Years, andthat I was not to be afraid of erring, as long as I followed so gooda guide. I know not likewise whether some may not take it ill, thatmy _Hero_ and _Heronia_ are not Kings; but besides that the Generousdo put no difference between wearing of Crowns, and meriting them, and that my _Justiniano_ is of a Race which hath held the Empire ofthe Orient, the example of _Athenagoras_, me-thinks, ought to stoptheir mouths, seeing _Theogines_ and _Charida_ are but simpleCitizens. Finally, Reader, such Censors may set their hearts at rest for thisparticular, and leave me there, for I assure them, that _Justiniano_is of a condition to command over the whole Earth; and that_Isabella_ is of a House, and Gentlewoman good enough, to makeKnights of the _Rhodes_, if she have children enough for it, andthat she have a minde thereunto. But setting this jesting aside, andcoming to that which regards the _Italian_ names, know that I haveput them in their natural pronunciation. And if you see some Turkishwords, as _Alla_, _Stamboll_, the _Egira_, and some others, I havedone it of purpose, Reader, and have left them as Historical marks, which are to pass rather for embellishments than defests. It iscertain, that imposition of names is a thing which every one oughtto think of, and whereof nevertheless all the World hath notthought: We have oftentimes seen Greek Names given to barbarousNations, with as little reason as if I should name an English man_Mahomet_, and that I should call a Turk _Anthony_; for my part Ihave believed that more care is to be had of ones with; and if anyone remarks the name of _Satrape_ in this _Romanze_, let him notmagine that my ignorance hath confounded the ancient and new Persia, and that I have done it without Authority, I have an example thereofin _Vigenere_, who makes use of it in his Illustrations upon_Calchondila_; and I have learned it of a _Persian_, which is at_Paris_, who saith, that by corruption of speech they call yet tothis day the Governours of Provinces, _Soltan Sitripin_. Now lest some other should further accuse me for having improperlynamed _Ibrahim_'s House a Palace, since all those of quality arecalled _Seraglioes_ at _Constantinople_, I desire you to rememberthat I have done it by the counsel of two or three excellentpersons, who have found as well as my self, that this name of_Seraglio_ would leave an _Idea_ which was not seemly, and that itwas fit not to make use of it, but in speaking of the Grand Signior, and that as seldom as might be. But whilest we are speaking of aPalace, I am to advertise you, that such as are not curious to see agoodly building, may pass by the gate of that of my _Heroe_ withoutentring into it, that is to say, not to read the description of it;it is not because I have handled this matter like to _Athenagoras_, who playes the Mason In the Temple of _Jupiter Hammon_; nor like_Poliphile_ in his dreams, who hath set down most strange terms, andall the dimensions of Architecture, whereas I have employed but theOrnaments thereof; it is not because they are not Beauties suitableto the _Romanze_, as well as to the _Epique Poem_, since the mostfamous both of the one and the other have them; nor is it toobecause mine is not grounded on the History, which assures us thatit was the most superb the Turks ever made, as still appears by theremains thereof, which they of that Nation call _Serrau Ibrahim_. But to conclude, as inclinations ought to be free, such as love notthose beautifull things, for which I have so much passion (as I havesaid) pass on without looking on them, and leave them to others morecurious of those rarities, which I have assembled together with artand care enough. Now Reader, ingenuity being a matter necessary fora man of Honour, and the theft of glory being the basest that may becommitted, I must confess here for fear of being accused of it, thatthe History of the Count of _Lavagna_, which you shall see in myBook, is partly a Paraphrase of _Mascardies_; this Adventure fallingout in the time whilest I was writing, I judged it too excellent notto set it down, and too well indited for to undertake to do itbetter; so that regard not this place but as a Translation of thatfamous Italian, and except the matters, which concern my History, attribute all to that great man, whose Interpreter only I am. And ifyou finde something not very serious in the Histories of a certainFrench Marquis, which I have interlaced in my Book, remember if youplease, that a _Romanze_ ought to have the Images of all natures;and this diversity makes up the beauties of it, and the delight ofthe Reader; and at the worst regard it as the sport of aMelancholick, and suffer it without blaming it. But before I make anend, I must pass from matters to the manner of delivering them, anddesire you also not to forget, that a Narrative stile ought not tobe too much inflated, no more than that of ordinarie conversations;that the more facile it is, the more excellent it is; that it oughtto glide along like the Rivers, and not rebound up like Torrents;and that the less constraint it hath, the more perfection it hath; Ihave endeavoured then to observe a just mediocrity between viciousElevation, and creeping Lowness; I have contained my self inNarration, and left my self free in Orations and in Passions, andwithout speaking as extravagants and the vulgar, I have laboured tospeak as worthy persons do. Behold, Reader, that which I had to say to you, but what defencesoever, I have imployed, I know that it is of works of this nature, as of a place of War, where notwithstanding all the care theEngineer hath brought to fortifie it, there is alwayes some weakpart found, which he hath not dream'd of, and whereby it isassaulted; but this shall not surprize me; for as I have not forgotthat I am a man, no more have I forgot that I am subject to erre. THE Secret History OF Queen _ZARAH_, AND THE _Zarazians_; BEING A Looking-glass FOR ----- -------- In the Kingdom of _ALBIGION_. Faithfully Translated from the _Italian_ Copy now lodg'd in the_Vatican_ at _Rome_, and never before Printed in any Language. _Albigion_, Printed in the Year 1705. Price Stitch'd 1 _s. _ Price Bound 1 _s. _ 6 _d. _ TO THE READER. _The Romances in_ France _have for a long Time been the Diversionand Amusement of the whole World; the People both in the City and atCourt have given themselves over to this Vice, and all Sorts ofPeople have read these Works with a most surprizing Greediness; butthat Fury is very much abated, and they are all fallen off from thisDistraction: The Little_ Histories _of this Kind have taken Placeof_ Romances, _whose Prodigious Number of Volumes were sufficient totire and satiate such whose Heads were most fill'd with thoseNotions. _ _These little Pieces which have banish'd_ Romances _are much moreagreeable to the Brisk and Impetuous Humour of the_ English, _who havenaturally no Taste for long-winded Performances, for they have nosooner begun a Book, but they desire to see the End of it: TheProdigious Length of the Ancient_ Romances, _the Mixture of so manyExtraordinary Adventures, and the great Number of Actors that appearon the Stage, and the Likeness which is so little managed, all whichhas given a Distaste to Persons of good Sense, and has made Romancesso much cry'd down, as we find 'em at present. The Authors ofHistorical Novels, who have found out this Fault, have run into thesame Error, because they take for the Foundation of their Historyno more than one Principal Event, and don't overcharge it with_Episodes, _which wou'd extend it to an Excessive Length; but theyare run into another Fault, which I cannot Pardon, that is, toplease by Variety the Taste of the Reader, they mix particularStories with the Principal_ History, _which seems to me as if theyreason'd Ill; in Effect the Curiosity of the Reader is deceiv'd bythis Deviation from the Subject, which retards the Pleasure he wou'dhave in seeing the End of an Event; it relishes of a SecretDispleasure in the Author, which makes him soon lose Sight of thosePersons with whom he began to be in Love; besides the vast Number ofActors who have such different Interests, embarresses his Memory, and causes some Confusion in his Brain, because 'tis necessary forthe Imagination to labour to recal the several Interests andCharacters of the Persons spoken of, and by which they haveinterrupted the_ History. _For the Reader's better Understanding, we ought not to chuse tooAncient Accidents, nor unknown Heroes, which are fought for in aBarbarous Countrey, and too far distant in Time, for we care littlefor what was done a Thousand Years ago among the_ Tartars _or_Ayssines. _The Names of Persons ought to have a Sweetness in them, for aBarbarous Name disturbs the Imagination; as the Historian describesthe Heroes to his Fancy, so he ought to give them Qualities whichaffect the Reader, and which fixes him to his Fortune; but he oughtwith great Care to observe the Probability of Truth, which consistsin saying nothing but what may Morally be believed. _ _For there are Truths that are not always probable; as for Example'tis an allowed Truth in the_ Roman History _that_ Nero _put hisMother to Death, but 'tis a Thing against all Reason and Probabilitythat a Son shou'd embrue his Hand in the Blood of his own Mother; itis also no less probable that a Single Captain shou'd at the Head ofa Bridge stop a whole Army, although 'tis probable that a smallNumber of Soldiers might stop, in Defiles, Prodigious Armies, because the Situation of the Place favours the Design, and rendersthem almost Equal. He that writes a True History ought to place theAccidents as they Naturally happen, without endeavouring to sweetenthem for to procure a greater Credit, because he is not obliged toanswer for their Probability; but he that composes a History to hisFancy, gives his Heroes what Characters he pleases; and places theAccidents as he thinks fit, without believing he shall becontradicted by other Historians, therefore he if obliged to Writenothing that is improbable; 'tis nevertheless allowable that anHistorian shows the Elevation of his_ Genius, _when advancingImprobable Actions, he gives them Colours and Appearances capable ofPerswading. _ _One of the Things an Author ought first of all to take Care of, isto keep up to the Characters of the Persons he introduces. TheAuthors of_ Romances _give Extraordinary Virtues to their Heroins, exempted from all the Weakness of Humane Nature, and much above theInfirmities of their Sex; 'tis Necessary they shou'd be Virtuous orVicious to Merit the Esteem or Disesteem of the Reader; but theirVirtue out to be spared, and their Vices exposed to every Trial: Itwou'd in no wise be probable that a Young Woman fondly beloved by aMan of great Merit, and for whom she had a Reciprocal Tenderness, finding her self at all Times alone with him in Places whichfavour'd their Loves, cou'd always resist his Addresses; there aretoo Nice Occasions; and an Author wou'd not enough observe goodSense, if he therein exposed his Heroins; 'tis a Fault which Authorsof_ Romances _commit in every Page; they would blind the Readerwith this Miracle, but 'tis necessary the Miracle shou'd befeisable, to make an Impression in the Brain of Reasonable Persons;the Characters are better managed in the Historical Novels, whichare writ now-a-days; they are not fill'd with great Adventures, andextraordinary Accidents, for the most simple Action may engage theReader by the Circumstances that attend it; it enters into all theMotions and Disquiets of the Actor, when they have well express'd tohim the Character. If he be Jealous, the Look of a Person he Loves, a Mouse, a turn of the Head, or the least complaisance to a Rival, throws him into the greatest Agitations, which the Readers perceiveby a Counter-blow; if he be very Vertuous, and falls into aMischance by Accident, they Pity him and Commiserate hisMisfortunes; for Fear and Pity in Romance as well as Tragedies arethe Two Instruments which move the Passion; for we in some Mannerput our selves in the Room of those we see in Danger; the Part wetake therein, and the fear of falling into the like Misfortunes, causes us to interest our selves more in their Adventures, becausethat those sort of Accidents may happen, to all the World; and ittouches so much the more, because they are the common Effect ofNature. _ _The Heroes in the Ancient_ Romances _have nothing in them that isNatural; all is unlimited in their Character; all their Advantageshave Something Prodigious, and all their Actions Something that'sMarvellous; in short, they are not Men: A single Prince attact by agreat Number of Enemies, it so far from giving way to the Croud, that he does Incredible Feats of Valour, beats them, puts them toflight, delivers all the Prisoners, and kills an infinite Number ofPeople, to deserve the Title of a Hero. A Reader who has any Sensedoes not take part with these Fabulous Adventures, or at least isbut slightly touch'd with them, because they are not natural, andtherefore cannot be believ'd. The Heroes of the Modern Romances arebetter Characteriz'd, they give them Passions, Vertues or Vices, which resemble Humanity; thus all the World will find themselvesrepresented in these Descriptions, which ought to be exact, andmark'd by Tracts which express clearly the Character of the Hero, tothe end we may not be deceived, and may presently know ourpredominant Quality, which ought to give the Spirit all the Motionand Action of our Lives; 'tis that which inspires the Reader withCuriosity, and a certain impatient Desire to see the End of theAccidents, the reading of which causes an Exquisite Pleasure whenthey are Nicely handled; the Motion of the Heart gives yet more, butthe Author ought to have an Extraordinary Penetration to distinguishthem well, and not to lose himself in this Labyrinth. Most Authorsare contented to describe Men in general, they represent themCovetous, Courageous and Ambitious, without entering into theParticulars, and without specifying the Character of theirCovetousness, Valour or Ambition; they don't perceive NiceDistinctions, which those who know it Remark in the Passions; inEffect, the Nature, Humour and Juncture, give New Postures to Vices;the Turn of the Mind, Motion of the Heart, Affection and Interests, alter the very Nature of the Passions, which are different in AllMen; the Genius of the Author marvellously appears when he Nicelydiscovers those Differences, and exposes to the Reader's Sight thosealmost unperceivable Jealousies which escape the Sight of mostAuthors, because they have not an exact Notion of the Turnings andMotions of Humane Understanding; and they know nothing but the grossPassions, from whence they make but general Descriptions. _ _He that Writes either a True or False History, ought immediatelyto take Notice of the Time and Sense where those Accidentshappen'd, that the Reader may not remain long in Suspence; he oughtalso in few Words describe the Person who bears the mostConsiderable Part in his Story to engage the Reader; 'tis a Thingthat little conduces to the raising the Merit of a Heroe, to Praisehim by the Beauty of his Face; this is mean and trivial, Detaildiscourages Persons of good Taste; 'tis the Qualities of the Soulwhich ought to render him acceptable; and there are those Qualitieslikewise that ought to be discourag'd in the Principal Character ofa Heroe, for there are Actors of a Second Rank, who serve only tobind the Intrigue, and they ought not to be compar'd with those ofthe First Order, nor be given Qualities that may cause them to beequally Esteemd; 'tis not by Extravagant Expressions, nor RepeatedPraises, that the Reader's Esteem is acquired to the Character ofthe Heroe's, their Actions ought to plead far them; 'tis by thatthey are made known; and describe themselves; altho' they ought tohave some Extraordinary Qualities, they ought not all to have 'em inan equal degree; 'tis impossible they shou'd not have someImperfections, seeing they are Men, but their Imperfections oughtnot to destroy the Character that is attributed to them; if wedescribe them Brave, Liberal and Generous, we ought not to attributeto them Baseness or Cowardice, because that their Actions wou'dotherwise bely their Character, and the Predominant Virtures of theHeroes: 'Tis no Argument that_ Salust, _though so Happy in theDescription of Men, in the Description of_ Cataline _does not insome manner describe him Covetous also; for he says this AmbitiousMan spent his own Means profusely, and raged after the Goods ofanother with an Extream Greediness, but these Two Motions which seemcontrary were inspired by the same Wit; these were the Effects ofthe Unbounded Ambition of_ Cataline, _and the desire he had to Riseby the help of his Creatures on the Ruins of the_ Roman _Republic;so vast a Project cou'd not be Executed by very great Sums of Money, which obliged_ Cataline _to make all Sorts of Efforts to get it fromall Parts. _ _Every Historian ought to be extreamly uninterested; he oughtneither to Praise nor Blame those he speaks of; he ought to becontented with Exposing the Actions, leaving an entire Liberty tothe Reader to judge at he pleases, without taking any care not toblame his Heroes, or make their Apology; he is no judge of the meritof his Heroes, his Business is to represent them in the same Form asthey are, and describe their Sentiments, Manners and Conduct; itdeviates in some manner from his Character, and that perfectuninterestedness, when he adds to the Names of those he introducesEpithets either to Blame or Praise them; there are but fewHistorians who exactly follow this Rule, and who maintain thisDifference, from which they cannot deviate without rendringthemselves guilty of Partiality. _ _Although there ought to be a great Genius required to Write aHistory perfectly, it is nevertheless not requisite that a Historianshou'd always make use of all his Wit, nor that he shou'd strainhimself, in Nice and Lively Reflexions; 'tis a Fault which isreproach'd with some Justice to_ Cornelius Tacitus, _who is notcontented to recount the Feats, but employs the most refin'dReflexions of Policy to find out the secret Reasons and hiddenCauses of Accidents, there is nevertheless a distinction to be madebetween the Character of the Historian and the Heroe, for if it bethe Heroe that speaks, then he ought to express himselfIngeniously, without affecting any Nicety of Points or Syllogisms, because he speaks without any Preparation; but when the Authorspeaks of his Chief, he may use a more Nice Language, and chuse hisTerms for the better expressing his Designs; Moral Reflexions, Maxims and Sentences are more proper in Discourses for Instructionsthan in Historical Novels, whose chief End if to please; and if wefind in them some Instructions, it proceeds rather from theirDescriptions than their Precepts. _ _An Acute Historian ought to observe the same Method, at the Endingas at the Beginning of his Story, for he may at first expose Maximsrelating but a few Feats, but when the End draws nigher, theCuriosity of the Reader is augmented, and he finds in him a SecretImpatience of desiring to see the Discovery of the Action; anHistorian that amuses himself by Moralizing or Describing, discourages an Impatient Reader, who is in haste to see the End ofIntrigues; he ought also to use a quite different Sort of Stile inthe main Part of the Work, than in Conversations, which ought to bewrit after an easie and free Manner: Fine Expressions and ElegantTurns agree little to the Stile of Conversation, whose PrincipalOrnament consists in the Plainness, Simplicity, Free and SincereAir, which is much to be preferr'd before a great Exactness: We seefrequent Examples in Ancient Authors of a Sort of Conversation whichseems to clash with Reason; for 'tis not Natural for a Man toentertain himself, for we only speak that we may communicate ourThoughts to others; besides, 'tis hard to comprehend how an Authorthat relates Word for Word, the like Conversation cou'd beinstructed to repeat them with so much Exactness; these Sort ofConversations are much more Impertinent when they run upon strangeSubjects, which are not indispensibly allied to the Story handled:If the Conversations are long they indispensibly tire, because theydrive from our Sight those People to whom we are engaged, andinterrupt the Seque of the Story. _ _'Tis an indispensible Necessity to end a Story to satisfie theDisquiets of the Reader, who is engag'd to the Fortunes of thosePeople whose Adventures are described to him; 'tis depriving him ofa most delicate Pleasure, when he is hindred from seeing the Eventof an Intrigue, which has caused some Emotion in him, whoseDiscovery he expects, be it either Happy or Unhappy; the chief Endof History is to instruct and inspire into Men the Love of Vertue, and Abhorrence of Vice, by the Examples propos'd to them; thereforethe Conclusion of a Story ought to have some Tract of Morality whichmay engage Virtue; those People who have a more refin'd Vertue arenot always the most Happy; but yet their Misfortunes excite theirReaders Pity, and affects them; although Vice be not alwayspunish'd, yet 'tis describ'd with Reasons which shew its Deformity, and make it enough known to be worthy of nothing butChastisements. _ THE JEWISH SPY: BEING A PHILOSOPHICAL, HISTORICAL andCRITICAL _Correspondence, _ _By_ LETTERS Which lately pass'd between certain _JEWS_in _Turky, Italy, France, &c. _ Translated from the ORIGINALS into _French_, _By the_ MARQUIS D'ARGENS;_And now done into_ English. THE SECOND EDITION. VOL. I. [Illustration] _LONDON_: Printed for D. BROWNE, without _Temple-Bar;_ R. HETT, in the_Poultry_; J. SHUCKBURGH, in _Fleet-street_; J. HODGES, on _LondonBridge_; and A. MILLAR, in the _Strand_. M DCC XLIV. [Illustration] LETTER XXXV. AARON MONCECA _to_ ISAAC ONIS, _a Rabbi, at_ Constantinople. _Paris_---- I still expect the Books from _Amsterdam_; and have writ severaltimes to _Moses Rodrigo_ to press him to send them to me; but to nopurpose: He puts me off to the End of the Month, and I shall not beable to send them to _Constantinople_ in less than five Weeks. I have search'd all the Booksellers Shops at _Paris_ for some choicenew Tracts, to add to those which I shall receive from _Holland_, but found nothing good besides what I have already sent thee, excepttwo little. Romances that are lately come out. The first isintitled, _Les Égaremens du Coeur & de l'Esprit_; the Author ofwhich I have already made mention of in my former Letters. [13] Hewrites in a pure Stile, understands Human Nature, and he lays theHeart of Man open with a great deal of Clearness and Justice: But inthis Work he has fallen into an Error, which he has often condemn'din the Writings of others. He makes it plain to the Reader, that heaffects to be witty; and there are some Passages where Nature issacrificed to the false Glare. But this Error, which is not common, is repair'd by a thousand Beauties. The Author of this Romancepaints rather than writes Things; and the Pictures he draws strikethe Imagination with Pleasure. Do but consider if it be possible todefine the first Surprize of a Heart with more Justness andClearness. _Without searching into the Motive of my Action, Imanaged, I interpreted her Looks; I endeavour'd to make her leastMotions my Lessons. So much Obstinacy in not losing Sight of hermade me at last taken notice of by her. She looked upon me in herturn, I fix'd her without knowing it, and during the Charm withwhich I was captivated whether I wou'd or not, I know not what myEyes told her, but she turn'd hers away with a sort of Blush. _ None but a Man who was at that Juncture, or had been formerly, inLove cou'd, with so much Truth and Delicacy, have painted all theMotions of the Soul. Genius, Wit, and Learning cannot draw Picturesso much to the Life, it being a Point to which the Heart alone canattain. When I say the Heart, I mean a tender Heart, and one that isin such Situations. The following is the Character of a Prude inLove. _Being not to be depended upon in her Proceedings, she was aperpetual Mixture of Tenderness and Severity: She seem'd to yieldonly to be the more obstinate in her Opposition. If she thought shehad, by what she said, disposed me to entertain any sort of Hopes, being on the Watch how to disappoint me, she presently resum'd thatAir which had made me so often tremble, and left me nothing totrust to but a melancholy Uncertainty_. One cannot help being struckwith the Truth and Nature which, prevail in this Character. Withoutan Acquaintance with the World, and a perfect Knowledge of Mankind, 'tis impossible to attain to this Point. 'Tis difficult todistinguish the different Forms, and, as one may say, the internalMotives of different Characters. A mean Writer does only take aSketch of 'em; but a good Author paints them, sets them plainly inSight, and exposes them as they really are. A Romance is consider'd in no other Light than as a Work composedonly for Amusement; but something else ought to be the Scope of it:For every Book that has not the Useful as well as the Agreeable, does not deserve the Esteem of good Judges. The Heart ought to beinstructed at the same time as the Mind is amused; and this is theQuality with which the greatest Men have render'd their Writingsfamous. A Writer who, abounding with bold Fictions and Imaginations, amusesthe Readers for a matter of a dozen Volumes with Incidents, work'dup artfully and importantly, and who nevertheless in the Close ofhis Book entertains his Reader's Imagination with nothing but Rapes, Duels, Sighs, Despair, and Tears[14]; has not the Talent ofinstructing, nor can he attain to Perfection; for he possesses butthe least part of his Art. An Author who pleases withoutinstructing, does not please long; for he sees his Book grow mouldyin the Bookseller's Shop, and his Works have the Fate of sorrySermons and cold Panegyric. Heretofore Romances were nothing more than a Rhapsody of tragicalAdventures, which captivated the the Imagination and distracted theHeart[15]. 'Twas pleasant enough to read them, but nothing more wasgot by it than feeding the Mind with Chimæras, which were oftenhurtful. The Youth greedily swallow'd all the wild and giganticIdeas of those fabulous Heroes, and when their Genius's wereaccustomed to enormous Imaginations, they had no longer a Relish forthe Probable. For some time past this manner of Thinking has beenchang'd: Good Taste is again return'd; the Reasonable has succeededin the place of the Supernatural; and instead of a Number ofIncidents with which the least Facts were overcharg'd, a plainlively Narration is required, such as is supported by Charactersthat give us the _Utile Dulci_. Some Authors have wrote in this Taste, and have advanced more orless towards Perfection, in proportion as they have copy'dNature[16]. There are others who carry Things to Extremity; for, by affecting toappear natural, they become low and creeping, and have neither theTalent of pleasing nor of instructing[17]. Some have had recourse to insipid Allegory[18], thinking to pleaseby a new Taste; but their Works dy'd in their Birth, and were solittle read that they escaped Criticism. If the bad Authors were but to reflect on the Talents andQualifications necessary for a good Romance, Works of this kindwould no longer be their Refuge. A Man who is press'd both by Hungerand Thirst, sets about writing a Book, and tho' he has notKnowledge enough to write History, nor Genius for Works of Morality, he stains a couple of Quires of Paper with a Heap of ill-digestedAdventures, which he relates without Taste, and without Genius, andcarries his Work to a Bookseller, who, were he oblig'd to buy it byWeight, and to give him but twice the Cost of the Paper, wou'd paymore for it than the Worth of it. Perhaps there is as much need forWit, an Acquaintance with Mankind, and the Knowledge of thePassions, to compose a Romance as to write a History. The onlyQualification to paint Manners and Customs, is a long Experience;and a Man must have examin'd the various Characters very closely, tobe able to describe them to a Nicety. How can an Author, whose common Vocation is staining of Paper, andspending his whole Time in a Coffee-house or in a Garret, give ajust Definition of a Prince, a Courtier, or a fine Lady? He neversees those Persons but as he walks the Streets; and I can scarcethink that the Mud with which he is often dash'd by their Equipages, communicates to him any Share of their Sentiments. Yet there is nota wretched Author but makes a Duke and Dutchess speak as he fancies. But when a Man of Fashion comes to cast his Eye on these ridiculousPerformances, he is perfectly surpriz'd to see the Conversation of_Margaret_ the Hawker, retail'd by the Name of the Dutchess of ----, or the Marchioness of ----. Yet be these Books ever so bad, abundance of 'em are sold; for many People, extravagantly fond ofNovelty, who only judge of Things superficially, buy those Works, tho' by the Perusal of 'em they acquire a Taste as remote from ahappy Talent of Writing, as the Authors themselves are. Don't fear, dear _Isaac_, that I shall ever send thee a Collectionof such paultry Books. Be a Man ever so fond at _Constantinople_ ofRomances and Histories of Gallantry, 'tis expected they should servenot only for Pleasure but for Edification. The second Book that I have bought, seems to me to be written withthis View. 'Tis intitled, _Memoirs of the Marquis_ de Mirmon; _orthe Solitary Philosopher_. The Author writes with an easy livelyStile[19]; and 'tis plain, that he himself was acquainted with theCharacters which he paints. Without affecting to appear to have asmuch Wit as the former Author that I mention'd to thee, he deliversthe Truth every where in an amiable Dress. If any Fault can be foundwith him, 'tis explaining himself a little too boldly; and he isalso reproach'd with a sort of Negligence pardonable in a Man whoseStile is in general so pure as his is. The following is hisCharacter of Solitude, _'Tis not to torment himself that a wise Manseems to separate himself from Mankind: He is far from imposing newLaws on himself, and only follows those that are already prescrib'dto his Hands. If he lays himself under any new Laws, he reserves tohimself the Power of changing them, being their absolute Master, andnot their Slave. Being content to cool his Passions, and to governthem by his Reason, he does not imagine it impossible to tame themto his own Fancy, and does not convert what was formerly an innocentAmusement to him, into a Monster to terrify him. He retains inSolitude all the Pleasures which Men of Honour have a Relish for inthe World, and only puts it out of their Power of being hurtful, bypreventing them from being too violent. _ There are several other Passages in this Book, which are asremarkable for their Perspicuity as their Justness. Such is theDescription of the Disgust which sometimes attends Marriages. _WhenPersons are in Love, they put the best Side outwards. A Man who isdesirous of pleasing, takes a world of Care to conceal his Defects. A Woman knows still better how to dissemble. Two Persons often studyfor six Months together to bubble one another, and at last theymarry, and punish one another the Remainder of their Lives for theirDissimulation. _ You will own, dear _Isaac_, that there is a glaring Truth andPerspicuity in this Character, which strikes the Mind. These nakedThoughts present themselves with Lustre to the Imagination, whichcannot help being pleased, because they are so just. If the Authorswho write Romances in this new Taste, would always adhere to theTruth, and never suffer themselves to be perverted to any new Mode(for this is what Works of Wit are liable to) their Writings wou'dprobably be as useful in forming the Manners as Comedy, because theywou'd render Romances the Picture of Human Life. A covetous Man willtherein find himself painted in such natural Colours; a Coquettewill therein see her Picture so resembling her, that theirReflection upon reading the Character will be more useful to themthan the long-winded Exhortations of a Fryar, who makes himselfhoarse with Exclamation, and often tires out the Patience of hisHearers. Authors who set about writing Romances, ought to study to paintManners according to Nature, and to expose the most secretSentiments of the Heart. As their Works are but ingenious Fictions, they can never please otherwise than as they approach to theProbable. Nor is every thing that favours of the Marvellous, esteem'd more among Men of Taste than pure Nonsense. Both generallygo together, and the Authors who fall into gigantic or unnaturalIdeas, have commonly a declamatory Stile, bordering upon a pompousand unintelligible Diction. The Stile of Romances ought to be simple; indeed it should be moreflorid than that of History, but not have all that Energy andMajesty. Gallantry is the Soul of Romance, and Grandeur and Justnessthat of History. A Person must be very well acquainted with theWorld to excel in the one, and he must have Learning and Politics todistinguish himself in the other. Good Sense, Perspicuity, Justnessof Characters, Truth of Descriptions, Purity of Stile are necessaryin both. The Ladies are born Judges of the Goodness of a Romance. Posterity decides the Merit of a History. Fare thee well, dear _Isaac_. As soon as I have receiv'd the newBooks from _Holland_, I will send them to thee. NOTES: [13] _Crébillon_ the Son. [14] _La Calprenede_. [15] The _Polexandre of Gomberville_, the _Ariana_ of _DesMaretz_, &c. [16] _Le Prevot d'Exiles_. See the _Bibliotheque desRomans_. [17] Histoire du Chevalier des _Essars_, & de la Comtessede _Merci_, &c. [18] _Fanseredin_, &c. [19] M. _d'Argens_. [Illustration] CLARISSA. OR, THE HISTORY OF A YOUNG LADY: Comprehending _The most_ Important Concerns _of_ Private LIFE, And particularly shewing, The DISTRESSES that may attend the MisconductBoth of PARENTS and CHILDREN, In Relation to MARRIAGE. _Published by the_ EDITOR _of_ PAMELA. VOL. IV. [Illustration] _LONDON:_ Printed for S. Richardson: And Sold by JOHN OSBORN, in _Pater-nosterRow_; ANDREW MILLAR, over-against _Catharine-street_ in the_Strand_; J. And JA. RIVINGTON, in _St. Paul's Church-yard_; And byJ. LEAKE, at _Bath_ M. DCC. XLVIII. [Illustration] THE EDITOR _to the_ READER. If it may be thought reasonable to criticise the Public Taste, inwhat are generally supposed to be Works of mere Amusement; or modestto direct its Judgment, in what is offered for its Entertainment; Iwould beg leave to introduce the following Sheets with a few cursoryRemarks, that may lead the common Reader into some tolerableconception of the nature of this Work, and the design of its Author. The close connexion which every Individual has with all that relatesto MAN in general, strongly inclines us to turn our observation uponhuman affairs, preferably to other attentions, and impatiently towait the progress and issue of them. But, as the course of humanactions is too slow to gratify our inquisitive curiosity, observantmen very easily contrived to satisfy its rapidity, by the inventionof _History_. Which, by recording the principal circumstances ofpast facts, and laying them close together, in a continuednarration, kept the mind from languishing, and gave constantexercise to its reflections. But as it commonly happens, that in all indulgent refinements on oursatisfactions, the Procurers to our pleasures run into excess; so ithappened here. Strict matters of fact, how delicately soever dressedup, soon grew too simple and insipid to a taste stimulated by theLuxury of Art: They wanted something of more poignancy to quickenand enforce a jaded appetite. Hence the Original of the firstbarbarous _Romances_, abounding with this false provocative ofuncommon, extraordinary, and miraculous Adventures. But satiety, in things unnatural, soon, brings on disgust. And theReader, at length, began to see, that too eager a pursuit after_Adventures_ had drawn him from what first engaged his attention, MAN _and his Ways_, into the Fairy Walks of Monsters and Chimeras. And now those who had run farthest after these delusions, were thefirst that recovered themselves. For the next Species of Fiction, which took its name from its _novelty_, was of _Spanish_ invention. These presented us with something of Humanity; but of Humanity in astiff unnatural state. For, as every thing before was conducted by_Inchantment_; so now all was managed by _Intrigue_. And tho' it hadindeed a kind of _Life_, it had yet, as in its infancy, nothing of_Manners_. On which account, those, who could not penetrate into theill constitution of its plan, yet grew disgusted at the dryness ofthe Conduct, and want of ease in the Catastrophe. The avoiding these defects gave rise to the _Heroical Romances_ ofthe _French_; in which some celebrated Story of antiquity was sostained and polluted by modern fable and invention, as was justenough to shew, that the contrivers of them neither knew how to lye, nor speak truth. In these voluminous extravagances, _Love_ and_Honour_ supplied the place of _Life_ and _Manners_. But theover-refinement of Platonic sentiments always sinks into the drossand feces of that Passion. For in attempting a more naturalrepresentation of it, in the little amatory Novels, which succeededthese heavier Volumes, tho' the Writers avoided the dryness of theSpanish Intrigue, and the extravagance of the French Heroism, yet, by too natural a representation of their Subject, they opened thedoor to a worse evil than a corruption of _Taste_; and that was, Acorruption of _Heart_. At length, this great People (to whom, it must be owned, all Sciencehas been infinitely indebted) hit upon the true Secret, by whichalone a deviation from strict fact, in the commerce of Man, could bereally entertaining to an improved mind, or useful to promote thatImprovement. And this was by a faithful and chaste copy of real_Life and Manners_: In which some of their late Writers have greatlyexcelled. It was on this sensible Plan, that the Author of the followingSheets attempted to please, in an Essay, which had the good fortuneto meet with success: That encouragement engaged him in the presentDesign: In which his sole object being _Human Nature_; he thoughthimself at liberty to draw a Picture of it in that light whichwould shew it with most strength of Expression; tho' at the expenseof what such as read merely for Amusement, may fancy can beill-spared, the more artificial composition of a story in onecontinued Narrative. He has therefore told his Tale in a Series of Letters, supposed tobe written by the Parties concerned, as the circumstances related, passed. For this juncture afforded him the only natural opportunitythat could be had, of representing with any grace those lively anddelicate impressions which _Things present_ are known to make uponthe minds of those affected by them. And he apprehends, that, in thestudy of Human Nature, the knowlege of those apprehensions leads usfarther into the recesses of the Human Mind, than the colder andmore general reflections suited to a continued and more contractedNarrative. This is the nature and purport of his Attempt. Which, perhaps, maynot be so well or generally understood. For if the Reader seeks herefor Strange Tales, Love Stories, Heroical Adventures, or, in short, for anything but a _Faithful Picture of Nature_ in _Private Life_, he had better be told beforehand the likelihood of his beingdisappointed. But if he can find Use or Entertainment; either_Directions for his Conduct_, or _Employment for his Pity_, in aHISTORY _of_ LIFE _and_ MANNERS, where, as in the World itself, wefind Vice, for a time, triumphant, and Virtue in distress, an idlehour or two, we hope, may not be unprofitably lost. [Illustration] MEMOIRS OF THE _Count_ Du BEAUVAL, INCLUDING Some curious PARTICULARS Relating to the DUKES of Wharton _and_ Ormond, During their Exiles. WITH ANECDOTES of several other Illustriousand Unfortunate Noblemen of the present Age. _Translated from the_ French _of the Marquis_ D'ARGENS, _Author of_ The Jewish Letters. _By Mr. _ DERRICK. _LONDON:_ Printed for M. COOPER, at the _Globe_ in _PaterNoster-Row_. M. DCC. LIV. PREFACE. _The Ground-work of Romances, till of late Years, has been a Seriesof Actions, few of which, ever existed but in the Mind of theAuthor; to support which, with proper Spirit, a strong picturesqueFancy, and a nervous poetical Diction, were necessary. When thesegreat Essentials were wanting, the Narration became cold, insipid, and disagreeable. _ _The principal Hero was generally one who fac'd every Danger, withoutany Reflection, for it was always beneath him to think; it was asufficient Motive of persisting, if there seem'd Peril; conqueringGiants, and dissolving Enchantments, were as easy to him as riding. He commonly sets out deeply in Love; his Mistress is a Virgin, heloses her in the Beginning of the Book, thro' the Spite or Craft ofsome malicious Necromancer, pursues her thro' a large Folio Volumeof Incredibility, and finds her, indisputably, at the End of it, like try'd Gold, still more charming, from having pass'd the FireOrdeal of Temptation. _ _Amusement and Instruction were the Intent of these Sort of Writings;the former they always fulfill'd, and if they sometimes fail'd inthe latter, it was because the Objects they conjur'd up to Fancy, were merely intellectual Ideas, consequently not capable ofimpressing so deeply as those which are to be met with in the Bustleof Life. _ _Hence those, whose Genius led them to cultivate this Sort ofwriting, have been induc'd to examine amongst such Scenes as aredaily found to move beneath their Inspection. On this Plan arefounded the Writings of the celebrated Mons. _ MARIVAUX, _and thePerformances of the ingenious Mr_. FIELDING; _each of whom areallow'd to be excellent in their different Nations. _ _The Marquis_ D'ARGENS, _sensible of the Advantages accruing fromWorks of this Kind, was not satisfied with barely copying the_Accidents, _but has also united with them the real Names of_Persons, _who have been remarkable in Life; conscious that we pay amore strict Attention to the Occurrences that have befallen thosewho enter within the Compass of our Acquaintance, or Knowledge, andif a Moral ensues from the Relation, it is more firmly rooted in theMind, than when it is to be deduced from either Manners or Men, withwhom we are entirely unacquainted. _ _The Marquis is easy in his Stile, delicate in his Sentiments, andnot at all tedious in his Narration. In the following Piece we findNothing heavy or insipid, he dwells not too long upon any Adventure, nor does he burthen the Memory, or clog the Attention withReflections intended, too often more for the Bookseller's Emolument, in swelling the Bulk of the Performance, than the Service of theReader, on whom he knew it to be otherwise an Imposition; since, bylong-winded wearisome Comments upon every Passage (a Fault toofrequent in many Writers) he takes from him an Opportunity ofexercising his reflective Abilities, seeming thereby to doubtthem_. [Illustration] PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY FIRST YEAR (1946-47) Numbers 1-4 out of print. 5. Samuel Wesley's _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700)and _Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693). 6. _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_(1704) and _Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704). SECOND YEAR (1947-1948) 7. John Gay's _The Present State of Wit_ (1711); and a section onWit from _The English Theophrastus_ (1702). 8. Rapin's _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech (1684). 9. T. Hanmer's (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_ (1736). 10. Corbyn Morris' _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc. _ (1744). 11. Thomas Purney's _Discourse on the Pastoral_ (1717). 12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by JosephWood Krutch. THIRD YEAR (1948-1949) 13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud. ), _The Theatre_ (1720). 14. Edward Moore's _The Gamester_ (1753). 15. John Oldmixon's _Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley_(1712); and Arthur Mainwaring's _The British Academy_ (1712). 16. Nevil Payne's _Fatal Jealousy_ (1673). 17. Nicholas Rowe's _Some Account of the Life of Mr. WilliamShakespeare_ (1709). 18. "Of Genius, " in _The Occasional Paper_, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719);and Aaron Hill's Preface to _The Creation_ (1720). FOURTH YEAR (1949-1950) 19. Susanna Centlivre's _The Busie Body_ (1709). 20. Lewis Theobold's _Preface to The Works of Shakespeare_ (1734). 21. _Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa, andPamela_ (1754). 22. Samuel Johnson's _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749) and Two_Rambler_ papers (1750). 23. John Dryden's _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681). 24. Pierre Nicole's _An Essay on True and Apparent Beauty in Whichfrom Settled Principles is Rendered the Grounds for Choosing andRejecting Epigrams_, translated by J. V. Cunningham. FIFTH YEAR (1950-51) 25. Thomas Baker's _The Fine Lady's Airs_ (1709). 26. Charles Macklin's _The Man of the World_ (1792). 27. Frances Reynolds' _An Enquiry Concerning the Principles ofTaste, and of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty, etc. _ (1785). 28. John Evelyn's _An Apologie for the Royal Party_ (1659); and _APanegyric to Charles the Second_ (1661). 29. Daniel Defoe's _A Vindication of the Press_ (1718). 30. Essays on Taste from John Gilbert Cooper's _Letters ConcerningTaste_, 3rd edition (1757), & John Armstrong's _Miscellanies_(1770). 31. Thomas Gray's _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751);and _The Eton College Manuscript_.