Series Two: _Essays on Poetry_ No. 4 Thomas Purney, _A Full Enquiry into the True Nature of Pastoral_ (1717) With an Introduction by Earl Wasserman The Augustan Reprint Society January, 1948 _Price_: $1. 00 _GENERAL EDITORS_ RICHARD C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_ EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_ H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR. , _University of California, Los Angeles_ _ASSISTANT EDITOR_ W. EARL BRITTON, _University of Michigan_ _ADVISORY EDITORS_ EMMETT L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_ BENJAMIN BOYCE, _University of Nebraska_ LOUIS I. BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_ CLEANTH BROOKS, _Yale University_ JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_ ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_ SAMUEL H. MONK, _University of Minnesota_ ERNEST MOSSNER, _University of Texas_ JAMES SUTHERLAND, _Queen Mary College, London_ Lithoprinted from copy supplied by author by Edwards Brothers, Inc. Ann Arbor, Michigan, U. S. A. 1948 INTRODUCTION In the preface to each of his volumes of pastorals (_Pastorals. Afterthe simple Manner of Theocritus, 1717_; _Pastorals. Viz. The BashfulSwain: and Beauty and Simplicity, 1717_) Thomas Purney rushed intocritical discussions with the breathlessness of one impatient to revealhis opinions, and, after touching on a variety of significant topics, cut himself short with the promise of a future extensive treatiseon pastoral poetry. In 1933 Mr. H. O. White, unable to discover thetreatise, was forced to conclude that it probably had never appeared(_The Works of Thomas Purney_, ed. H. O. White, Oxford, 1933, p. 111), although it had been advertised at the conclusion of Purney's secondvolume of poetry as shortly to be printed. A copy, probably unique, of_A Full Enquiry into the True Nature of Pastoral_ (1717) was, however, recently purchased by the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library of theUniversity of California, and is here reproduced. Despite the obviousfailure of the essay to influence critical theory, it justifiesattention because it is the most thorough and specific of the remarkablyfew studies of the pastoral in an age when many thought it necessary toimitate Virgil's poetic career, and because it is, in many respects, acontribution to the more liberal tendencies within neoclassic criticism. Essentially, the _Full Enquiry_ is a coherent expansion of the randomcomments collected in the poet's earlier prefaces. Purney belongs to the small group of early eighteenth-centurycritics who tended to reject the aesthetics based upon authority andpre-established definitions of the _genres_, and to evolve one logicallyfrom the nature of the human mind and the sources of its enjoyment; inother words, who turned attention from the objective work of art to thesubjective response. These men, such as Dennis and Addison, werenot searching for an aesthetics of safety, one that would produceunimpeachable correctness; Purney frequently underscored his preferencefor a faulty and irregular work that is alive to a meticulous but dullone. This is not to be understood as praise of the irregular: the rulesof poetry must be established, but they must be founded rationally onthe ends of poetry, pleasure and profit, and the psychological processby which they are received, and not solely on the practices anddoctrines of the ancients. Taking his cue from the Hobbesian and Lockianmethodology of Addison's papers of the pleasures of the imaginationwithout delving into Addison's sensational philosophy, Purney outlinedan extensive critical project to investigate (1) "the Nature andConstitution of the human Mind, and what Pleasures it is capableof receiving from Poetry"; (2) the best methods of exciting thosepleasures; (3) the rules whereby these methods may be incorporated intoliterary form (_Works_, ed. White, p. 48). It is this pattern of thoughtthat regulates the _Full Enquiry_. Perhaps more than any other poetictype, the pastoral of the Restoration and the early eighteenth centurywas dominated by classical tradition; the verse composed was largelyimitative of the eclogues of Theocritus and Virgil, especially thelatter, and criticism of the form was deduced from their practices orfrom an assumption that the true pastoral of antiquity was the productof the Golden Age. Of this mode of criticism Rapin and Pope were theleading exemplars. In opposition, Fontenelle, Tickell (if he was theauthor of the _Guardian_ essays on the pastoral), and Purney developedtheir theories empirically and hence directed the pastoral away from theclassical tradition. (On these two schools see J. E. Congleton, "Theoriesof Pastoral Poetry in England, 1684-1717, " _SP_, XLI, 1944, pp. 544-575. ) Although Purney adopted a modification of Aristotle's criticaldivisions into Fable, Character, Sentiment, and Diction, and tookfor granted the doctrine of the distinction of _genres_, he otherwiserejected traditional formulae and critical tenets, and began with thepremise that man is most delighted by the imaginative perception of thestates of life for which he would willingly exchange his own. These are"the busy, great, or pompous" (depicted in tragedy and the epic) and"the retir'd, soft, or easy" (depicted in the pastoral). From thisanalysis of "the Nature of the Human Mind, " the characteristics of thetrue pastoral, such as the avoidance of the hardships and vulgaritiesof rural life, follow logically. Similarly, since a minutely drawndescription deprives the reader's fancy of its naturally pleasurableexercise, pastoral descriptions should only set "the Image in the finestLight. " Rapin, on the other hand, had determined the proper length ofdescriptions by examining Virgil and Theocritus. For the association ofthe pleasure afforded by the pastoral with the natural human delightin ease, Purney was indebted to the essays on the pastoral in _TheGuardian_ (see no. 22), from which he borrowed extensively for many ofhis principles, and to Fontenelle, who constructed his theory of thepastoral upon the premise that all men are dominated "par une certaineparesse. " By contrast, although Pope adopted Fontenelle's premise, hetested its validity by relating it to the accepted definition of the_genre_. One of Purney's major purposes in the essay was to dignify the pastoralby demonstrating that it admits all the components generally reservedfor tragedy and the epic. Most critics had considered the pastorala minor form and consequently had narrowed their attention to a fewfrequently debated questions, mainly the state of rural life to bedepicted and the level of the style to be adopted. All agreed that thepoem should be brief and simple in its fable, characters, and style. But it was therefore a poetic exercise, no more significant, Purneycomplained, than a madrigal. He was intent upon investing the pastoralwith all the major poetic elements--extended, worthy fable; moral;fully-drawn characters; and appropriate expression. For in his mind thepoem best incorporates one of the only two true styles, the tender, andtherefore warrants a literary status beneath only tragedy and the epic. Like his critical method, Purney's decision that the pastoral shoulddepict contemporary rural life divested of what is vulgar and painfulin it, rather than either the life of the Golden Age or true rusticexistence places him on the side of Addison, Tickell, Ambrose Philips, and Fontenelle (indeed, his statement is a paraphrase of Fontenelle's), and in opposition to the school of Rapin, Pope, and Gay, who argued fora portrait of the Golden Age. Both schools campaigned for a simplicityremoved from realistic rusticity (which they detected in Spenser andTheocritus) and refinement (as in Virgil's eclogues); but to one groupthe term meant the innocence of those remote from academic learning andsocial sophistication, and to the other the refined simplicity of anage when all men--including kings and philosophers--were shepherds. Withreservations, the first group tended to prefer Theocritus and Spenser;and the second, Virgil. Hence, too, the first group approved of Philips'efforts to create a fresh and simple pastoral manner. As a poet, Purneymoved sharply away from the classical pastoral by curiously blending anentirely original subject matter with a sentimentalized realism and anaive, diffuse expression; and as a critic he pointed in the directionof Shenstone and Allan Ramsay by emphasizing the tender, admittingthe use of earthy realism in the manner of Gay, and recommending forpastoral such "inimitably pretty and delightful" tales as _The TwoChildren in the Wood_. Had his contemporaries read the treatise, how they would have been amused to contemplate the serious literarytreatment of chapbook narratives, despite Addison's praise of thisballad. In his usual nervous manner, the critic did not confine himself to histopic, but touched on a number of significant peripheral subjects. Heshowed the virtue of concrete and specific imagery at a time when mostpoets sought the sanctuary of abstractions and universals; commentedcogently on the styles of Chaucer, Spenser, and Shakespeare; anticipatedthe later doctrine of the power of the incomplete and the obscure tosuggest and therefore to compel the imagination to create; adopted andexpanded Addison's distinction between the sublime and the beautiful;and, borrowing a suggestion that he probably found in Dennis (_CriticalWorks_, ed. Edward N. Hooker, Baltimore, 1919, I, 47), developed aprofitable distinction between the sublime image and the sublime thoughtby examining their different psychological effects. But, because they run counter to the accepted opinions of his age, itis Purney's comments on matters of style that are especially striking, although it must be remembered that most of them have to do with thepastoral alone and do not constitute a general theory of poetics. Perhaps his most original contribution is his attack upon the cautiouscontemporary styles of poetry: "strong lines, " a term that originallydefined the style of the metaphysical poets, but that now described thecompact and pregnant manner of Dryden's satires, for example, and the"fine and agreeable, " exemplified, let us say, by Pope's _Pastorals_ orPrior's _vers de société_. To these Purney preferred the bolder thoughless popular styles, the sublime and the tender, corresponding to thetwo pure artistic manners that Addison had distinguished. How widelyPurney intended to diverge from current poetry can be judged by hisdefinition of the sublime image as one that puts the mind "upon theStretch" as in Lady Macbeth's apostrophe to night; and by his praise ofthe simplicity of Desdemona's "Mine eyes do itch. " Both passages wereusually ridiculed by Purney's contemporaries as indecorous. Equally original is Purney's concept of simplicity, which he insistedshould appear in the style and the nature of the characters, not indenuding the fable and in divesting the poem of the ornaments of poetry, as Pope had argued in the preface of his _Pastorals_. It was thisconcept that also led Purney to his unusual theory of enervated diction. How unusual it was can be judged by comparing with the then-currentpractices and theories of poetic diction his recommendation ofmonosyllables, expletives, the archaic language of Chaucer and Spenser, and current provincialisms--devices that Gay had used for burlesque--asmeans of producing the soft and the tender. But it is hardly true that Purney's "true kinship is with theromantics, " as Mr. White claims, for there is a wide chasm between aromantic and a daring and extravagant neoclassicist. Rather, Purney'ssearch for a subjective psychological basis for criticism is one of theelements out of which the romantic aesthetics was eventually evolved, and it frequently led him to conclusions that reappear later in theeighteenth century. * * * * * In addition to editing Purney's pastorals, Mr. H. O. White has publishedan exhaustive study of "Thomas Purney, a Forgotten Poet and Critic ofthe Eighteenth Century" in _Essays and Studies by Members of the EnglishAssociation_, XV (1929), 67-97. University of Illinois. Earl. R. Wasserman A FULL ENQUIRY INTO THE TRUE NATURE OF PASTORAL. The PROEME or first Chapter of which contains a SUMMARY of all that theCRITICKS, ancient or modern, have hitherto deliver'd on that SUBJECT. After which follows what the Author has farther to advance, in order tocarry the POEM on to its utmost Perfection. * * * * * Written by Mr. _PURNEY_. * * * * * [Illustration] * * * * * _LONDON_ Printed by _H. P. _ for JONAS BROWN, at the _Black Swan_ without_Temple-Bar_. 1717. PROEME. _Cubbin_ (ye know the Kentish Swain) was basking in the Sun oneSummer-Morn: His Limbs were stretch'd all soft upon the Sands, and hisEye on the Lasses feeding in the Shade. The gentle Paplet peep'd atColly thro' a Hedge, and this he try'd to put in Rhime, when he saw aPerson of unusual Air come tow'rd him. Yet neither the Novelty of hisDress, nor the fairness of his Mien could win the Mind of the Swain fromhis rural Amusement, till he accosted the thoughtful Shepherd thus. If you are the _Cubbin_, said he, I enquire for, as by the Peculiarityof your Countenance, and the Firmness of your Look, you seem, youngBoy, to be; I would hold some Discourse with you. The Pastorals of yourPerformance I have seen; and tho' I will not call 'em Perfect, I thinkthey show a Genius not wholly to be overlookt. My Name, continued he, isSophy, nor is it unknown in the World. In this Book (and here he plucktit out of his Pocket) I have pen'd some Rules for your future Guidance. _Cubbin_ was strangely taken with the mild Address and Sweetness ofSophy. A thousand times he thanked him, as often smil'd upon him, andspread his Coat for him to set more soft upon the Sands. Sophy was a true-born _Britton_, and admir'd a forward _Spirit_. The_French_ he little loved; Their Poets dare not (said he) think withoutthe Ancients, and their Criticks make use of their Eyes instead of theirUnderstandings. 'Twas his way to pardon, nay admire a Critick, whofor every fifty Errors would give him but one Remark of Use, or goodDiscovery. But always read one Sheet, then burnt those dull insipidRogues, who thought that to write a good was to write a faultless Piece. By which means their whole Work becomes one general Fault. This Censure, I fear, would fall pretty heavy on the [A]_Criticks_ of_France_; if this were a proper Place to persue the Argument in. ButSophy thus resum'd his Talk. [Footnote A: _In the Preface to the Second Part of our_ Pastorals, _viz. _ THE BASHFUL-SWAIN, _and_ BEAUTY AND SIMPLICITY, _we have shownto what Perfection the whole Science of_ CRITICISM _was brought by theAncients, then what Progress the_ French Criticks _have further made, and also what remains as yet untouch'd, and uncompleat_. ] In this, said he, I like your Temper, Cubbin. By those few Pieces wehave seen of your's, and those I hear you have in Manuscript, you seemdetermin'd to engage in those Kinds of Poetry and those Subjects inCriticism, which the Ancients have left us most imperfect. Here, if youfail, you may be still some help to him who shall Attempt it next; andif all decline it, apprehensive of no fair success, how should it everattain Perfection. Then Cubbin told the _Critick_, that the reason of his entering uponPastoral, where the Labour was excessive and the Honour gain'd minute, was this; He had unhappily reflected on that thing, we call a Name, sothoroughly, and weigh'd so closely what like Happiness it would afford, that he could now receive no pleasure from the Thoughts of growingfamous; nor would write one Hour in any little kind of Poetry, which wasnot able to take up and possess his Mind with Pleasure, tho' it wouldprocure him the most glaring Character in Christendom. This Temper wasespecially conspicuous while he tarried at the Fountain where he imbibedthe little Knowledge he possesses. He seem'd as out of humour withApplause, and dafted aside the Wreath if ever any seem'd dispos'd tooffer it. I' faith, said _Cubbin_, I am nothing careful whether any Pastorals becry'd up or not. Were I dispos'd to write for a Name, no whit would Iengage in either the Sublime or Soft in Writing: For as the middle Way, made up of both, is vastly easiest to attain; so is it pleasant to themost Imaginations, and acquires the widest Character. There are originally, answer'd Sophy, no perfect and real Kinds ofWriting but them two. As for the Strong Lines, 'tis supplying the wantof the Sublime with the Courtly and Florid Stile; as what we usuallycall the Fine and Agreeable is but bastard and degenerate from the trulyTender. But yet it must be added that this suits the Populace the best. Here Cubbin answer'd Sophy, that these were pretty ways of makingVerses, but his mind was of such a peculiar Turn, that it requir'd somegreater Design, and more laborious to occupy it, or else it would notbe sufficiently engag'd to be delighted. Twould not be taken offfrom reflecting on what a stupid Dream is Life; and what trifling andimpertinent Creatures all Mankind. Unless, said He, I'm busy'd, and in ahurry, I can't impose upon my self the Thought that I am a Being of somelittle significance in the Creation; I can't help looking forward anddiscovering how little better I shall be if I write well, or ill, or notat all. I would fain perswade my self, continued he, that a _Shakespear_and a _Milton_ see us now take their Works in hand with Pleasure andread with Applause. Tis certain, answer'd Sophy, that the less we know of Nature and ourSelves, the more is Life delightful. If we take all things as we see'em, Life is a good simple kind of Dream enough, but if we awaken outof the dull Lethargy, we are so unhappy as to discover, that tis all andevery thing Folly, and Nonsense and Stupidity. --But we walk in a vainShadow and disquiet our selves in vain. Here Cubbin fell with his Face to the Ground, and said, I prethee now nomore of this; your Book you open'd but forgot to give me the Contents. Sophy recollected him; and told the Swain, That Book contain'd someRules for his Direction. But as I have not patience, added he, to makea Treatise of some hundred Pages, which consists of other Persons Hints, but flourish'd and dilated on; or the Rules and Observations of theAnciants set in a different Light; I shall first sum up the wholeDiscoverys the _French_ or any other Criticks yet have made in Pastoral;and where they have left it I shall take the Subject, and try how farbeyond I am able to carry it. For after that, every single Thoughtwill be the free Sentiment of my own Mind. And I desire all to judgeas freely as I write; and (if, after a strict Examination of the Rules, they see any Reason) to condemn as peremtorily; for we cannot get out ofan Error too soon. _RUAEUS_ say's, The Pastoral Sentiments must have a Connection Plain andEasy. Affirming that tho' Incoherence, may add a neglegence and simpleloosness to Pastoral, yet 'tis not such a Negligence or Simplicity asPastoral delight's in. _DRYDEN_ observe's, that the Dialect proper for Pastoral, must have aRelish of the Fascion of speaking in the Country. _FONTENELL_ that most excellent _Frenchman_ takes Notice, that noPassion is so proper for Pastoral as that of Love. He mean's as to whatwe are to describe in our Swains; not mentioning those Passions thatPoem is to raise in the Reader. _RAPIN_ observe's, The Fable should be One. The Swains not abusive, orfull of Raillery. The Sence should not be extended or long. This Authorhas other Observations new, but you may guess of what a Nature, when heconfesses He walk'd but as _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_ lead him. Thereforehe cannot have carried the Poem to any Perfection beyond the Conditionthey left it in; and so much any Reader may see from the Authorsthemselves, without reading a large Volume to find it out. Mr. _DRYDEN_, in another place, has an Observation which carrys theKnowledge of Pastoral still farther. Pastorals, says he, must contain anagreeable Variety after the manner of a Landscape. But in the _GUARDIANS_, Vol. I. The Reader may see the Nature ofPastoral more explain'd and enter'd into, in a few Dissertations, thanby all these Authors have deliver'd on the Subject. As these are Booksin every Bodies Hands, I shall not trouble my self to extract theSummary of 'em. But he will find the Criticism on Phillips and the otherObservations are extreamly Ingenious. CHAP. I _Of the Parts of Pastoral; and of the several Sorts of that Poem_. PASTORAL, in it's Imitation of the Lives of Shepherds, makes use ofFABLE, CHARACTERS, SENTIMENTS and LANGUAGE; and by these four Partsconjoyntly obtain's it's End; that is, excites our Pity, or our Joy, or both. For in FABLE I include the MORAL; in SENTIMENTS both IMAGE andTHOUGHT; and in LANGUAGE I comprehend the HARMONY. These four Parts of PASTORAL would lead us into an easy and naturalenumeration of the several Kinds or Sorts of that Poem: According asthey have more or fewer of those Parts; and as they do or do not excitethe Pastoral passions. Not that all those Kinds are perfect Pastorals, or even Poems, but only such as Authors have given us Examples of, from_THEOCRITUS_ and _VIRGIL_. But I omit this Division for another more material. A Difference morefundamental, arises in the PASTORALS written by different AUTHORS, according to the Age which the Poet chuses to describe, or the differentDescriptions which he gives us of the COUNTRY. For he may draw it as'tis suppos'd to have been in the Golden Age; or be may describe hisown COUNTRY, but touching only what is agreable in it; or lastly, may depaint the Life of Swains exactly as it is, their Fatigues andPleasures being equally blended together. And this, last Kind mostWriters have given into; for _Theocritus's_ rude unmanner'd Muse (asmany Criticks have stiled it, not much amiss) naturally led himinto this Method; and then, tis easy to conceive why the latterPastoral-Writers chose the same. But as the second Method is plainly more delightful than the last, asit collect's the most beautiful Images and sweetest Thoughts the Countryafford's; so I shall show that 'tis preferable on many other Accounts;and even finer for Pastoral than the Golden Age. But this when I speakof the Characters. I would only settle now in short the most compleat Kind of Pastoral; Andsuch, I think, is that which most beautifully draw's the present Life ofShepherds, and raises Pity or Joy, by the four Parts of Pastoral, Fable, Characters, Sentiments, and Language. And since 'tis these whichconstitute a perfect Pastoral, I shall crave leave to speak separatelyof 'em all. And first of the Fable. CHAP. II. _Of the Fable; and the means of making a perfect One_. A Fable proper for Pastoral, and best adapted to delight, must havethese following Qualities to render It compleat. _First_, It must be one entire _Action_, having a Beginning, a Middle, and an End. _Secondly_, A perfect _Fable_ must have a due _Length_. And not consistof only a mournful Speech which a Shepherd find's occasion to make; orthe like. _Thirdly_, And since all Poetry is an Imitation of the mostConsiderable, or the most Delightful Actions in the Person's Life weundertake; not any trifling Action can be sufficient to constitute the_Fable_. _Fourthly_, Another Quality which a Pastoral Fable should have to be themost compleat is a _Moral Result_. I shall speak to all these Heads, except the first, concerning the_Unity_; for without that Quality, it's self-evident that 'tis no Fable. By _Unity_ I mean the same with Aristotle. [A] [Footnote A: _See his 6th Chapter_. ] SECT. 1. _What Length a perfect Pastoral should have_. All _Pastoral-Writers_ have used the same _Length_ which _Theocritus_at first happen'd into. I shall be therefore obliged, I doubt, to dwelllonger, on this Head, than the Importance of it may seem to require; andmust premise, that tho' a _Fable_ would need, finely carry'd on, tobe three or four Hundred Lines, yet let no Writer be under any Concernabout this: If a _Fable_ have Unity, shews a delightful story, paintsproper Characters, and contains a Moral, I shall not doubt to call thePoem a perfect and compleat _Pastoral_, tho' the Length exceeds notfifty Lines. But my Reasons for extending it are these: Some Author I have seen, ingeniously observes, that even in tellingcommon Stories, 'twere best to give some short Account of the Personsfirst, to be heard with Delight and Attention; For, says he, 'tis not somuch this being said, but its being said on such a particular Occasion, or by such a particular Person. As this is true in a common Story, so'tis more so in a Poem. The strongest Pleasure that the Mind receivesfrom Poetry, flows from its being engaged and concerned in the Progressand Event of the Story. We naturally side in Parties, and interest ourselves in their Affairs of one side or the other. Then 'tis, our Carepursues our Favourite Character, where're he goes. We anticipate all hisSuccesses, and make his Misfortunes our own. Were the Catastrophe in aTragedy to appear in the first Act, but little should we be moved by it, not having as yet imbibed a favourable Opinion of the Hero, nor learn'dto be in Pain as often as he is in Danger. Now, we may read, I fear, some Number of the _Pastorals_ of the ordinaryLength, before we shall meet with this Pleasure. The Truth is, we arecommonly past a hundred Lines, the length of these Pieces, before theMind and Attention is entirely fix'd, and has lost all its former andexternal Thoughts. All the Pleasure therefore which proceeds from theStory is lost in these short Pieces. 'Tis true Indeed, I think it possible for a Novel, or perhaps a Poem, to contain a Story in a hundred Lines which shall be able to engage theMind so as to delight it from the _fable_ it self, stript of all itsOrnaments. But how few in a hundred Ages have had Genius's capable ofthis. And if 'tis difficult in a Novel or Poem, which may couch theCircumstances close together, how much more Difficult must it be in_Pastoral_. In the former Pieces nothing is to be observed but the Storyitself, in the latter a thousand Beauties are to be adjoyn'd and as manyRules observ'd. SECT 2. _The proper Length of Pastoral further collected from the Considerationof the_ Characters. Another Pleasure which the brevity of these Pieces robs us of, is this. The Characters cannot finely and distinctly be depainted in so short aCompass. And 'tis observable, we are concern'd for the Personages inno Poetry so much as those of Pastoral. Simplicity and Innocence haveCharms for every Mind, and we pity most, where most our Pity's wanted. So that the two noblest Beauties, and which constitute the mainDifference between Poetry and Versification, between a perfect Poem anda Madrigal, Epigram or Elegy, are entirely lost in those Pieces, andthe only Pleasure they can raise, must proceed alone from Sentiment andDiction. SECT 3. _The Length of Pastoral, yet further shown from the Passions it raises_. In every rational and consistent Piece, the Writer has some Aim in View;as, to work every thing up to one End and a Moral Result; or to excitesome Passion, or the like. Otherwise it is but an Assay of Wit, a Flirtof the Imagination, and no more. Too trifling to detain the rationalMind. Now, that these short Pieces are not capable of having a Moral, or raising any Passion, I need trouble my self for no other Proof thanthere never having been such one produced. But give me leave to instance in the usual Method of forming a Pastoral. One Shepherd meets another; tells him some body is dead; upon which, they begin the mournful Dialogue, or Elegy. But in such an Elegy, thereis but one thing can raise a fine Pleasure; which can be the only solidReason for the Writers performing such a Work; and that is the raisingPity, without which no End is obtain'd by such a Dialogue. And 'tis onlya School-Boy tryal of Wit; like a single Description. Unless the Poetthink's it enough that the Scene is laid in the Country, and the veryTalk of Shepherds is enough to support a Piece. And the truth is, ofa Nature so exceeding pleasant is Pastoral, that a Piece which has butFields and Hedges repeated pretty often in it, is at least tolerable;whereas in any other Poetry, we see every day far better Poems cast outof the World as soon as they enter into it. But another reason of theirSuccess proceeds from the little Knowledge most People have ofPastoral; all Poets having gone in exactly the same Track, without oneendeavouring to raise the Poem to any greater Perfection than theyfound it in; whereas Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and Comedy, arriv'd by slowdegrees to the Perfection they now bear; and this Writer still wentbeyond the last of an equal Genius. But I was going to give an Instance how incapable these Pieces are ofraising the Passions. A mournful Dialogue, or Elegy is formed upon theDeath of some Person. But if this Elegy raises not our Pity, 'tis aTrifle, and only a childish Copy of Verses. But in order to raise thatmost delightful Passion, should not the Reader be first prepossess'd infavour of the Party dead? Can I pity a Person because deceas'd, withoutknowing any thing of his while alive? 'Tis the same in that other well-known way of drawing up a Pastoral. I mean, where two Shepherds sing alternately. _Theocritus_ haply lightupon this, and every Pastoral Writer since his time, (that I haveseen) has been so unfortunate as to happen exactly upon the same. AndI believe it has as often been indifferent to the Readers which of theShepherds overcame. Our Joy in this Case is equal to our Grief in theother. SECT. 4. _From the length by Nature prescribed to all Pieces, Epick, Tragick, &c. Is shown, That Pastoral will, at least, admit of the Length of three orfour hundred Lines_. Thus far of the Necessity of extending a Pastoral to the Length ofthree or four hundred Lines, if we would not deprive our selves of theOpportunities of being as delightful as Poetry will permit. But if anyCommentator, who think's himself oblig'd to defend _Theocritus_ and_Virgil_ in every particular, should not only not allow this Length tobe preferable, but even condemn it as faulty, it would oblige us to comemore close to the Point, and to take the Question from the bottom. Whatis the Length by Nature fix'd for all Pieces? And why mayn't an Epickbe as short as a Tragick Poem? Methink's a Poet should not be contentto take these things on Trust, and tye himself down to Brevity or Lengthonly because _Theocritus_ wrote short and _Homer_ long Pieces. I have not Leisure to enter fully into this Question, but wouldrecommend it to some Person who has, as a Subject that would prove asEntertaining to the Reader as the Writer. However, I shall speak justwhat I have at present in my Mind upon it. Without considering Tragedy as drawn into Representation, it is plain itwould not endure the Length of Epick Poetry, without being wearious inthe Reading, for these Reasons among others: It's Nature is more heatedand violent than the Epick Poem, and consists of only Dialogue; whereasthe former has the Variety of Dialogue and Narration both. Besides, theunder-actions which work up to the main Action in Heroick Poetry, areeach as great and as different from each other, as the main Actions ofdifferent Tragedies. Nor would Pastoral bear the Length of even Tragedy. For it admits notboth those two kinds of Writing, the Sublime and the Beautiful, whichare the most different of any in Nature, having only the last. But thesetwo give so sweet a variety to the same Piece, when they are artfullyblended together, that a good Tragedy or Epick Poem can never tire. Soonas we begin to be sated and cloy'd with Passion and Sublime Images, thePoet changes the Scene; all is, on a sudden soft and beautiful, and weseem in another World. Yet is Pastoral by no means ty'd down by nature to the Length used by_Theocritus_ and all his Followers. 'Tis only Example has introduc'dthat Method. For, 'tis a Poem capable of raising two Passions, and thosetho' all consistent with one another, yet what raise Pleasures, the mostwidely different of any, in the Mind. When we have tir'd the Reader witha mournful and pitious Scene, we may relieve and divert his Mind withagreeable and joyous Images. And these the Poet may diversify and varyas often as he pleases. And so different are the Passions of Pity andJoy, that he may all thro' the Poem please in an equal Degree, yet allthro' the Poem in a different Manner. Besides, this Poem changes the general Scene, which is more than evenTragedy does. A Poet who has form'd a perfect Notion of the Beautiful, and furnished his Mind with a sufficient number of delightful Images, before he set's down to write a Pastoral, will lead the Reader thro' sosweet a Variety of amusing scenes, and show so many beautiful Picturesto his Imagination, that he will never think the tenth Part of aTragedy's Length too much for a Pastoral. 'Tis true indeed that they who make a Pastoral no more considerablethan a Song or Ballad (as _Theocritus_, _Virgil_, &c. ) without Passions, Characters, a delightful Fable, or any Moral, do well to make it of nogreater Extent than a Song or Ballad. Where there is nought to delightbut the Sentiments, (for they aim at neither the soft nor the sublimeLanguage) a Reader cannot attend to more than a hundred Lines; but wherethe Mind is engag'd and concern'd for the Issue of the Story, and eagerto know the Event, 'tis insensibly drawn on, and haveing some Aim inView, is much less weary'd, tho' led on to a greater Extent. CHAP. III. _That the Pastoral Action must not be very little and minute; also thatseveral Under-actions must run thro' the Poem_. A Third Quality, laid down as necessary to constitute a Fable whollyperfect, was this, That as there must be but one Action, that Actionmay not be any trifling, silly Circumstance of a Shepherd's Life. Asone Swain's telling the other how poor and bare he is grown. Or onecomplaining to the other, that his Flock has had some Mischance, or thelike; which is as much as can be gather'd out of the Pastorals form'dafter the ordinary Way. For if you take the Actions of any of 'em, divested of the Ornaments of Poetry, and the constant Repetition of thepleasing Words, Grove, Breeze, Mead, &c. You will find nothing, evennothing at all in any of 'em. So that, tho' these Pastorals mostly may have Actions, nay, and Unityof Action; yet are they Actions no more proper for a Poem, than aProposition of Euclid, turn'd into Verse, would be. There is nothing, (not even the telling how the Sow and Pigs swallow'd their Wash, andfought the while, ) but might be call'd one Action, with a Beginning, Middle and End. So that 'tis nothing to have unity of Fable, if theFable be not proper. Shepherds are indeed suppos'd to be happy, and devoid of Stir, andNoise, and Bustle; but does it follow, that there are no Actions orIncidents in a Shepherd's Life? If there are delightful Actions, 'tisplain we don't run counter to a Shepherd's Life in drawing 'em intoPoetry; and Poetry imitates the Actions of Men. Which show's that theseordinary Pastorals are no more Poetry, than Lucretius is, or than anyother Philosopher, if turn'd into Verse, would be. Sure I think, as weallow an Epick Writer to take his Hero in that Part or Character of hisLife, where he will make the best Figure in Poetry, so we should allow aPastoral-Writer the same Opportunity of pleasing. 'Tis necessary also that several lesser Actions work up to the main One;that the whole Piece may be fill'd with Circumstances. 'Tis the verySoul of Poetry to imitate Actions; to lead the Mind thro' a Variety ofScenes; and to present a Number of Pictures before it. 'Tis plain a Shepherd's Life has as many Incidents, as other Person's;only one Kind are in low Life, the other not. The Simplicity of Pastoralis nothing touch'd by this, if these Incidents are Pastoral: For thedifference between Epick or Tragick Poetry, and Pastoral, must notproceed from the One haveing many, the other no Under-Actions, butrather from the different Actions, which a Hero and a Swain are engag'din. A Shepherd's leading his Lass to a Shade, and there sticking herBosom with Flowers, is the same in Pastoral, as an Hero's hurling aJavelin, is in Epick Poetry. And a variety of Circumstances and Actionsis equally necessary in both Pieces. Or perhaps in Pastoral most; sincethe Coolness and Sedateness of Pastoral is very apt to sate and tirethe Reader, if he dwell's long on one Action; and we can bear a longerDescription of a Battle than of two Shepherd's sitting together; becausethe first fill's and actuate's the Mind the most; and where it is somuch employ'd, it cannot so easily flag and grow dull. SECT. 2. _Whether the Pastoral Fable should be simple or complex; and how it mustdiffer from the Epick Fable_. The Implex Fables are to me, in all Poetry, the finest. And evenPastoral may receive an additional Beauty from a Change of Fortune inthe chief Character, if manag'd with Discretion. 'Tis not easy to givedirect Proofs for things of this Nature. But what little I have to offerfor Pastoral's requiring an Implex Fable, is as follows. Pastoral, like all Poetry, should aim at Pleasure and Profit. Pleasureis best produc'd, if the Poem raises Pity, or Joy, or both; and Profitby its having a Moral. Now the Implex Fable attain's it's End theeasiest. For we pity Misfortunes no where so much as in one we saw butlately happy: Nor do we joy to see a Man flourish; but to see him risefrom Ills to a flourishing Condition, rejoyces the Mind. And as forthe other End of Poetry, which is Profit, every one may see that ImplexFables are greatly best for producing a Moral. But great Care must be taken in this Way. Whereas the Catastrophe inEpick Poetry, is work'd up by violent Means, as Machines, and the like;In Pastoral it must be produced so easy and natural, as to seem toproceed from it self. Nor must the Change of Fortune be produced by any sudden Contrast, asin most Tragedies it is; since Surprize (unless very weak) is a Fault inPastoral, tho' a Beauty in other Poetry. 'Tis also evident that the Ills which a Shepherd falls into, from someslight, and almost inevitable Slip (from which the Moral is form'd) mustbe infinitely less than those which embarrass a Hero; because Ills mustbe proportion'd to the Fault; and 'tis plain, the Faults of a Swain aresuppos'd to be very minute. A hundred Observations, like this last, might be made, tooinconsiderable to enumerate; but the Poet, when he form's his Fable, cannot avoid observing 'em. Otherwise, 'tis best he keep to the SimpleFable; which, tho' a better may, by Industry, be form'd, is far enoughfrom being faulty. SECT. 3. _What Circumstances or Actions of a Shepherd's Life are properest forthe Poet to go upon_. We cannot be pleas'd with the Description of any State, or Life, whichat that time we would not willingly exchange our present State for. Nor is it possible to be pleas'd with any thing that is very low andbeggarly. Therefore, methinks, I would raise my Shepherd's Life to aLife of Pleasure; contrary to the usual Method. For when a Citizen orPerson in Business divert's himself in the Country, 'tis not from seeingthe Swains employ'd or at Labour; he visits the Country for the easyand agreeable Retiredness of it; and I believe the Pleasure of seeinga Shepherd folding his Sheep, proceeds from the Prospect of Evening, ofthe Woods and Fields, and from the Innocence we conceive in the Sheep, and the like; not from the Action of the Shepherd folding them. So ofReapers, we conceive 'em filling the following Year with Plenty; Wehave, while we see 'em, the Thought of Fulness, and the time when everything is brought to Perfection; and these, and the like Thoughts, ratherraise the Delight of seeing those particular Labours, than the Actionsthemselves. For we see, that if we behold Sheep, or the like, in a City, tho' Countrymen are ordering them, we have no such Delight; becausethere the Silence of Evening, the Prospect of Fields, &c. Are not added. I would therefore omit the Labour of Shepherds, if I could invent a Lifemore agreeable; but the latter must be form'd from a Man's Imagination, the former from Observation; and _Virgil_ could draw that almost as wellas _Theocritus_. I wonder the Writers of Pastoral should be so fondof showing their Shepherds Beating Their Ronts, or Scolding With eachother, or the like; when they might describe 'em sleeping upon Violets;plaiting rosy Chaplets by a lovely Rivulet; getting _Strawberries_ for aLass, &c. 'Tis observable, that no Tragedy can be well constituted without amixture of Love; and even _Shakespear_, (who seem's to have had solittle of the Soft or Tender in his Genius) was obliged to have somerecourse to that Passion, in forming his most regular Tragedy; I meanOthello. Not that an Hero should be soften'd, much less drawn in hismost degenerate Hours, when he is in Love. For, methinks, the Frenchseem a little too fond of introduceing Love, when they draw theirgreatest Hero's as amorous Love-Sops, and omit all that is truly Greatin their Characters. Now if Love, with Reason manag'd, appear so well in Tragedy, it mustsure be extreamly proper for Pastoral. In the first we are to be rais'dand heated; in the latter sooth'd and soften'd: The one has to do withPersonages, all gentle and tender; the Subject of the other is Fury andBravery. I would therefore have, methinks, a Sprinkling of Love thro'all my Pastorals; and 'twill give the Writer an Opportunity of showingthe Tenderness, and the Simplicity of his Characters in the finestManner: Yet must it be so diversify'd and broken, by other Incidentsinterfering, as not to cloy and nauseate the Reader, with the Repetitionof nothing but Love and Love. The vulgar Notion is, that Wrestling, and such like Incidents areproperest for Pastoral; but if a Writer introduces such, he'll find 'emso few, that 'twill be necessary to touch upon Love besides. But methinks, I would not show my _CHARACTERS_ in so low and clownisha degree of Life; For if I draw 'em so rough, and Porter-like, in oneplace, I cannot give 'em Tenderness and Simplicity in another; withoutbreaking in upon the Manners. So that if I was compell'd to put this Circumstance of Wrestling intoa Pastoral, I would have recourse, even there, to Love, to render itPleasurable to the Mind; as thus: A tender-hearted Lass should be plac'dSpectator of her Wrestling Lover: By this means the Poet might make itshine in Poetry; if he described her Behaviour, her soft Concern andjoyous Smiles, occasioned by every little Failure, and every Prospect ofSuccess. But this is a Subject of so great Extent, that I have not time togo thro' with it. Take therefore this general Rule for all. ThoseCircumstances or Actions in the Fable, which show barely theDelightfulness of the Country, are good. Those which give us a Sightof also the Sprightliness and Vigour of it, are better; and those whichcomprehend further, the Simplicity and the Tenderness of the youngLasses, are best. And from hence a Writer or Reader will be able to makea Judgment of any Circumstance that may occur. SECT. 4. _That this Variety of Actions does by no means impair the Simplicity ofPastoral_. There is nothing in Pastoral, of which Persons have a wronger Notionthan of the word Simplicity. Because the Poem should be simple, theystrip it of all Beauty and Delightfulness; that is, they lay theSimplicity where it should not so much be (in the Fable) and depriveit of all Simplicity, where 'twould be beautiful (in the Sentiments andDiction. ) If all the Incidents or Actions, that are truly simple and delightful, thro' the whole Number of _Theocritus_'s Idylls, were collected intoone Pastoral, so as to follow naturally each other, and work up to onegeneral End, I think that Pastoral would be more truly simple than anywe have at present. 'Tis true, a Poet may thrust into Pastoral as greata multitude of Actions, and as surprizingly brought about, as we findin Tragedy, but there is no necessity, because he must use a Numbersufficient to please, that therefore he must fall into that fault. Yetfor mine own part, I had rather see too much, than too little Action, asI cannot help preferring a faulty Writer before a dull One. But a Poet of Genius will diversify and adorn his Fable, as much as helawfully may; and as for the Simple, he will draw such soft and tenderCharacters, as will furnish his Poem with enough of that, and of themost delightful Kind. The generality of Pastoral Writers seem tothink they must make their Pieces simple, by divesting them of all theOrnaments of Poetry; and the less and more inconsiderable Sketches theyare, the more Simple they are. A strange Conception sure of Simplicity. While their Sentiments are false almost in every Line; either in theirown Nature; or with respect to Pastoral; or to the Person speaking; orsome other foreign Cause. But I shall always wave the being particularin such Cases as these. To point at Faults directly, I think theBusiness of a Carper, not a Critick. CHAP. IV. _Of the Moral; and what kind of Moral Pastoral require's_. The fourth Quality that a Fable ask's, to render it compleat, is aMoral Result. I need not trouble you with a Proof of a Moral's beingnecessary; 'tis plain that every Poem should be made as perfect as 'tiscapable of being, and no one will ever affirm a Moral to be unnatural inPastoral. But if any one should demand a Proof, 'tis thus: Poetry aim'sat two Ends, Pleasure and Profit; but Pastoral will not admit of directInstructions; therefore it must contain a Moral, or lose one End, whichis Profit. We might as easy show that the other End of Poetry, _viz_. Pleasure, is also impair'd, if the Moral be neglected; but the thing isplain. To hasten therefore to enquire what kind of Moral is proper forPastoral, we must look back into the Reasons prescribed by Nature forthe Morals in all Sorts of Poetry. Epick Poetry and Tragedy are conversant about Hero's, Kings, andPrinces, therefore the Morals there, should be directed to Personsengaged in Affairs of State, and at the Helm, and be of such a Natureas these; _A Crown will not render a Person Happy, if he does not pursuehis Duty towards God and Man; the best Method of Securing a Government, is to occasion Unity in it_, and the like. Again, Comedy's Subject is to expose the Ill Habits in low Life. It'smoral therefore should contain Instructions to the middle Sort ofPeople: As, _What Ills attend on Covetousness_. Or, _On a Parent's beingtoo Severe_, or the like. * * * * * But so easy and gentle a kind of Poetry is Pastoral, that 'tis not verypleasant to the busy Part of the World. Men in the midst of Ambition, delight to be rais'd and heated by their Images and Sentiments. Pastoraltherefore addresses it self to the Young, the Tender, and particularlythose of the _SOFT-SEX_. The Characters also in Pastoral are of thesame Nature; _An Innocent Swain_; or _Tender-Hearted Lass_. From suchCharacters therefore we must draw our Morals, and to such Persons mustwe direct them; and they should particularly aim at regulating the Livesof Virgins and all young Persons. * * * * * What Nature I would have a Moral of, cannot so well be explain'd as byExamples; but I do not remember at present any such Pastoral. You arenot widely deficient, Cubbin, I think, in this particular. Your firstshow's us, that the best Preservative a young Lass can have against Loveand our deluding Sex, is, to be wholly unacquainted therewith. LittlePaplet is eager of Listning to Soflin's Account of Men and Love; butthat first set's her _Heart_ on the Flutter; then she is taken withSoflin's _SWEET-HEART_; tho' all the while she is ignorant of the Causeof her Uneasiness. The Moral to your second Pastoral, which contain's Instructions to_COQUETTS_, warning them not to take pleasure in giving Pain, is, Ithink, not worst than this. But the Moral to your Third (call'd the Bashful Swain), methinks, is notso good. It is also directed to the _COQUETTS_; and instruct's 'em notto give a Lover any Hopes, whom they do not intend to make happy. If theyoung Lass there, had jilted Cuddlett, she had mist of her good Fortune;and her Unwillingness to encrease the Number of her Admirers, is theCause of her Happiness. But, I know not how, this like's me not so wellas the other Three; or, perhaps it is not produced so naturally by theFable, and that may prevent it's pleasing. SECT. 2. _How to form the most regular kind of Moral_. If a Writer's only Aim was the preserving Poetical Justice in his Moral, he would have nothing to do but to show a Person defective in someslight Particular, and from thence Unhappy; but as a Poet always reachesat Perfection, these following Rules are to be observ'd. The Inadvertency or Fault which the Character commit's, must be such aFault as is the natural or probable Consequence of his Temper. And hisMisfortune such an one as is the natural or probable Consequence of hisFault. As in Othello: (For how can I instance in Pastoral. ) I rathersuppose the Moor's Fault, to be a too rash and ungrounded Jealousy; thanthat Fault, common to almost all our Tragedies, of marrying without theParent's Consent. A rash _Jealousy_ then, is the natural consequence ofan open and impetuous Temper; and the Murder of his Wife is a probableConsequence of such a Jealousy, in such a Temper. So that the Hero'sTemper naturally produces his Fault, and his Fault his Misfortunes. If you allow that the fault should be the natural or probableConsequence of the Temper; let me ask you then, if those Tragedies orPastorals can be so perfect, where the original natural Temper of theHero or Heroine is not drawn into the Piece. I mean, where all thatwe see of the Mind of the Chief Character, is his Mind or Temper, asalter'd entirely, by some foreign or accidental Means. As, Who will tellme what Hamlet's natural Temper was? Throughout that admirable Tragedy, we see not his bare Temper once; but before he appear's, he's in wildDistraction, which proceed's from former Accidents. This Method Mr. _Row_ too has taken, especially in that ingenious Tragedy, call'd _JANESHORE_. We do not see any thing of her Temper but Grief and Sorrow; butGrief cannot be natural to any Person's Mind, but must be accidental. However, I think, this Method may be, at least, very good; whether 'tisthe best, I leave others to determine. But as to the Fault, whether 'tis in the Action, or out of it, is of nomoment to the Perfectness of a Pastoral. Tho' I must needs say, I am forwhat Aristotle call's the Peripatie, or change of Fortune in Pastoral;but I think the Action that produces the Change may be either in thePoem, or have happen'd some time before, but so that it's Influence doesnot reach the Persons till they have been a while engaged in the Actionsof the Tragedy or Pastoral. SECT. _Last_. Here Sophy closed his Book; for the Heat of the Day came on, and anHouse or an Arbour began to be more agreeable than the open Fields. Sophy told the Swain he would meet him there agen in the Evening, andread him some more of the Minutes he had put down for his Direction, andwithdrew; and the Shepherd drove his Lambs to the Covert of the Shades. Accordingly, as the day began to decline, the Critick again appear'd;and opening his Book, pursued the Argument he had made some Progress in. _The End of the first Part_. PART II. CHAP. I. _Of the Pastoral CHARACTERS or MANNERS, in general_. I should but tire the Reader, if I endeavour'd to prove that Pastoraldoes require the Manners, or Characters to be preserved. If our Methodof ordering Pastoral be admitted, the Necessity thereof will be easilyperceived. But If any one prefer's the ordinary Method, I must tell him, that 'tis not proper to draw Characters in a Piece of an hundred Lines. It is to be observ'd, that tho' a Fable and Moral are essential to everyPoem; yet a Poem may subsist without the Manners. In Epick Poetry theMachinery, the sublime Descriptions, &c. Are such strong and PoeticalOrnaments, that a very fine Piece of the Heroick kind, might be form'dwithout the Ornament of Characters. But Pastoral is in it self, (if Imay so speak) less Poetical; and therefore more want's the additionalOrnaments of Art. 'Tis naturally low and mean, and therefore should beas much rais'd as possible. Whereas Epick-Poetry is of a Nature sowarm and heated, that it's own proper Strength and Violence is able tosupport it. If this could want a Proof, I might say in short, Thatwe can bear with Epick-Poetry, even without any kind of Verse, and_Cambray_ has succeeded in such; but every one will judge that shoulda Pastoral appear in Prose, nay even without the Feminine Ornament ofJangle, 'twould not be born with; which show's that Epick Poetry cansupport it self with fewer foreign Assistances than Pastoral. Another Observation I shall make, relating to the Manners or Charactersin general, is this; and 'tis equally applicable to Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and Pastoral: There are three different ways of drawingCharacters; which in Tragedy form the Poem, as 'twere, of threedifferent Kinds or Natures. The first, and finest is, where the Natural Temper of the Hero's Mind isdrawn in the former Part of the Poem, but after the Peripatie alter's. As Timon of Athens is drawn at first all free and well-natur'd toa Fault; but after his change of Fortune, is described as a quitedifferent Man; morose, and in hatred with himself and all the World. Andso in other Tragedies. The second Sort is, where the Temper of Mind is the same in the formerand latter Part of the Play; but all along forced from it's NaturalBent. Every where inclin'd and leaning to a different Temper; yet isno where wholly carry'd off, or alter'd, as in _Venice-Preserv'd_;_Jaffeir's_ Temper is generous, faithful, and tender, but thro' Want andEnticement being drawn into a Conspiracy, this Temper is half effac'din him: But the Strugglings which the Poet has so fine an Opportunityof describing, between his present Actions and his natural Temper, arecarry'd thro' the whole Piece; and he condemn's himself the same forungenerously betraying his Friend at the End, as for entring into theConspiracy against his Country, at the beginning of the Play. The last kind of Character is, where the Natural Temper of the Mind isneither drawn in the latter Part of the Poem; nor retain'd thro' thewhole, but clouded and broken; but instead thereof some casual andaccidental Humour, which from some Misfortune, or the like, has quitechanged the Natural Temper before the Person appear's on the Stage, orin the Poem. As in the Distress'd-Mother, the Character that give's nameto the Tragedy, is all along in Tears and Grief for _Hector_; and whather Temper was before his Death, does not appear, that is, what herNatural Temper was. I need not detain you to apply what I have here observ'd to Pastoral inparticular; 'tis enough to affirm, that the Method which appears mostbeautiful in Tragedy, will be equally finest in Pastoral Poetry. CHAP. II. _What Condition of Life our Shepherds should be supposed in. And whetherthe_ Golden-Age, _or the present state of the Country should be drawn_. There are three different Methods, (as we hinted in the first Chap. Ofthe first Book) of describing the Country. For it may be drawn, as 'tissuppos'd to have been in the Golden-Age; or, as 'tis now, but only thepleasant and delightful Images extracted, and touch'd upon; or, lastly, we may draw the Country in it's true and genuine Colours, theDeformities as well as the Beauties having admittance into our Poem. This last sort run's upon the Labours and fatigues of the Rusticks; andgives us direct Clowns and Country-Folk. We alway see 'em sweating witha Sicle in their Hands; beating their Cows from the Corn; or else atScolding. Yet doubtless a kind of Pastorals of this Nature might be madeextreamly delightful, if the Writer would dare to write himself, and notbe lead so much by _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_. But a Method preferable to this, I think, is a Description of theGolden-Age; and there is very little difference between this, and thatwhich we hold the best. It draw's the Swains, all Innocent and tender. Show's us Shepherds, who are so, not for their Poverty, but theirPleasure; or the Custom of those unrefin'd Ages, when the Sons andDaughters of Kings were of that Employ, as we read in the Scripture ofthe Ladies of greatest Quality, drawing Water for their Flocks, and thelike. I am therefore nothing averse to this kind of Pastoral. It draw'ssuch a Life as we could easily wish our selves in; and such, and onlysuch, can bear a pleasurable Description. But all the Opportunities that the supposition of the Golden-Age givesthe Reader of the Beautiful in his Descriptions, and being Entertainingin his Characters; In short, all the delightful Scenes, Arborets andShades, as well as all the gentleness and simplicity of that Age, may bedrawn into the other, namely the middle state, which we prefer; if theCharacters be proper. Besides, I should not be fond of describing the Golden-Age, because weare not so much interested and concern'd in what was only some thousandYears ago, and ne're will be again. If the Poet possesses us withagreeable Sentiments of our own Country (by describing it, but omittingall that is not delightful in it) we are doubly pleas'd with theConsideration that it may be in our own Power to enjoy the sweetAmusement: and we are apt to fancy while we are reading, that werewe among those Swains, we could solace our selves in their easyRetirements, and on their tender Banks in the same manner that they do. And since Poetry, the more naturally it deceives, the more fully itpleases; I should be very desirous, methinks, of giving my Pieces asgreat an Appearance of Probability, as possible. And in our way, thePoet may, to add yet more to the Probability, mention several Places inthe Country, which actually are to be found there; and will have severalOpportunities of giving his Stories an Air of Truth. SECT. 2. _The Method of_ Theocritus, _and all his followers, shown to beinferiour, from the Nature of the Human Mind_. But further, to shew that we should not describe the Country init's Fatigues, it's Roughness, or it's Meanest, take these FewConsiderations. For, as no Writer whom I have read (but that excellentFrenchman _FONTENEL_, ) has raised his Shepherds and Shepherdesses abovethe vulgar and common sort of Neat-herds and Ploughers, I am oblig'd todwell a little the longer on this Head. It may be observ'd, I think, that there are but two States of Lifewhich are particularly pleasant to the Mind of Man; the busy, great, or pompous; and the retir'd, soft, or easy. More are delighted with theformer than with the latter kind, which affoard's a calm Pleasure, thatdoes not strike so sensibly, but proceeds much from the Imagination. Perhaps this may be the reason why Epick and Tragick Poetry are moreuniversally pleasing than Pastoral; for they describe the Actions ofsuch Persons, as most Men are dazled and enamour'd with; and wouldwillingly quit their own Stations in Life for. But tho' this State of Life may perhaps be more generally engaging thanthe soft and retir'd; 'tis certain the soft is the next eligible, andconsequently will shine the most next in Poetry. As no one would muchdesire to be one of Theocritus's Shepherds, so 'tis plain, no one canbe much delighted with being concern'd, as 'twere, with such; of havingtheir Actions take up our Minds, and their Manner of Life set before us. As a love of Grandeur, Show and Pageantry is implanted naturally inour Minds, so we cannot be pleas'd with any thing that is mean, low andbeggarly; and as we dislike what is mean and beggarly, How can we loveto have our Minds conversant about, direct Ploughmen, _&c_? We love theCountry for it's soft Retirements, it's Silence, and it's Shades, andcan we love a Description of it that sets none of these before us? If Iread a Pastoral, I would have it give me such a Prospect of the Country, and stop me upon those Objects, where I should myself stay, wereI there; but would not that be (at least generally) upon the mostbeautiful Images. If the Toils of the Country-Folk took my Observance, 'twould only be for Variety, because those Images which a Poet canso plentifully raise out of his own Brain, can hardly be met with inReality. But methinks were I determin'd to describe the Labours andHardships of the Country, and not to collect the Beauties; I would e'enobserve the Manner of the Fellows and Wenches in the Country, and putdown every thing that I observ'd them act; as Mr. Gay has very welldone; and than we shall have at least this Pleasure, of seeing howexactly the Copy and the Original agree; which is the same that wereceive from such a Picture as show's us the face of a Man we know. Again, 'tis natural to the Mind of Man to delight in the Happiness ofit's Fellow-Creatures; and no Pleasure can be imbibed from the Prospectof another's Misery; unless it is so calculated as to excite Pity. ThePleasure, that comes the nearest such of any, is a Comick one, whichdelight's to see the human Form distorted and debased, and turn'd intothat of a Beast. And as for Pity, the most delightful Passion of all, it can't be excitedby this Means. For those Swains are inured to Labour, and acquaintedwith Fatigue; but we pity those who fall from Greatness to a State ofHardships. CHAP. III. _What Personages are most proper for Pastoral. And what Passions we mayallot our Shepherds; and what degree of Knowledge_. Since Simplicity and Tenderness are universally allow'd to constitutethe very Soul and Essence of Pastoral, there la nothing scarce in theProceedings of Pastoral-Writers more surprizing to me, than that no onehas allotted any Part of Characters in their Pieces to the _SOFT-SEX_:But have, to a Writer, introduc'd only Men, and even the roughest ofthat Sex. I can no otherways account for that their Conduct, but that _Theocritus_happen'd not to make any true Female Characters, nor to introduce anysuch of the Fair-Sex, as would shine in Pastoral, and they pretend tonothing farther than the Copying after him. This is the more strange, since even Epick-Poetry and Tragedy, whoseNature is Violence and Warmth, cannot well subsist without the tenderCharacters. 'Tis they that sprinkle so sweet a Variety thro' thosePieces, and relax the Minds of the Readers, with the Beautiful and Soft, after it is sated with the Sublime. Now if even the warmest Kinds of Poetry delight in Female Personages, How much more Pastoral, which is all Tenderness and Simplicity? Whosedesign is to sooth and spread a Calm over the Mind, as the higher Poemsare to elevate and strike It. But 'tis not enough that we introduce some Characters drawn from the_SOFT-SEX_: our Male Characters must be also of the same Nature, farfrom rough or unmanner'd. Every Character must also be of such a Kindas will be entertaining to the Mind. For there are some more, some lessdelightful, among those Female _Characters_, which at first sight seemequally proper to Pastoral. Of this kind is a Prudish _Character_, orexcessively reserv'd. For, besides that frankness and Openness of Heart, is what we imagine natural to Shepherds, a Poet can never raise Delightfrom such a Character. Her fault is too hateful to excite Pity in herPunishment; and too small to raise Joy in beholding bar Unfortunate. Besides that such a Joy were not proper for Pastoral. Of the same Natureis a Finical, or Squeamish Character, and many others, at first sightagreeable to Pastoral. SECT. 2 _What Passions we may allot our Shepherds_. Although I am for raising the Characters in Pastoral somewhat abovethe degree of Boors and Clowns; yet no one is more for retaining thePastoral Simplicity. Our Characters of young and tender Innocents, give, I think, a better Opportunity of introducing the true PastoralSimplicity, than those very mean and low Personages, which rather leadus to an unmanner'd Clownishness, than an agreeable Simplicity. To preserve this Simplicity, we must avoid attributing to our Swains, any of those Passions or Desires, which engage busy and active partof Mankind; as Ambition, and the like. _Theocritus_ therefore, and_Virgil_, and the generality of his Followers, have rather made theirShepherds sing alternately for a Leathern Pouch, or a Goat, than forthe Desire of Praise. And nothing, I believe, but his being unwillingto make his Swains sing for exactly the same Reward, that all since_Theocritus_, have done, could have made our excellent Phillips alterthe Pouch and the Kid, for Praise, in his sixth Pastoral. _Let others meanly stake upon their Skill. Or Kid, or Lamb, or Goat, or what they will; for praise we sing, nor Wager ought beside; And, whose the Praise, let_ Geron's, _Lips decide_. There are few of even the most violent passions but may be introduc'dinto Pastoral, if artfully manag'd and qualify'd by the Poet: As Hatred, if it be not carried to it's height; which is an Excess in Pastoral. And I observe, _Cubbin_, you make your Shepherd _Colly_, inconstant; andhave an Aversion to his former Sweet-heart _Soflin_, on account of herFrankness, and too great Forwardness. But yet I think it is not faulty, because you make his Affections vary, against his Inclination, and he isangry with himself for his dislike to _Soflin_; but no Reason can stopunruly Love. So Revenge, if admitted, must be very ingeniously manag'd, or 'twill beintolerable. There is a cunning Thought in _Tasso_, that may perhaps letthe Reader something into the Manner in which I would have it order'd. A Female Warriour, opposed to her Lover in Aims, for his Inconstancyshoot's a Dart at him, yet wishes it may not strike him. But what comes nigher to the explaining the manner of introducingRevenge into Pastoral, is what we find in the sixth Idyll of_Theocritus_. _Polyphemus's_ Mistress had been unkind; and how do'she propose to take Revenge: Why, he will not take notice of her as shewalk's before his Cave to be seen, and pelt's his flock. After whichfollow's the most simple, and I had almost said, finest Thought in anyPastoral-Writer. The whole Beauty of which no one will conceive, but whohas a Soul as tender as _Theocritus_ had, and could touch the _Soft_ aswell. Poliphemus threaten's several Punishments, after which, followsthis. 'Tis as fine in _Creech's_ Version as the Original. _Besides, my Dog, he is at my Command, Shall bark at her, and gently bite her Hand_. What I have said of this, might be said of the other Passions; but Ishall insist no longer on this Head. As for the Passions most proper forPastoral, they are discuss'd elsewhere. SECT. 3. _What degree of Knowledge we may attribute to our Swains_. The difference between the Knowledge of our Shepherds, and that ofpoliter Persons, must not proceed in the least from any differencein their Natural Endowments, but entirely from the manner of theirEducations. The Poet therefore, has nothing to do in this Case, but toconsider what is most probable for Nature to effect, unassisted by Art. As for a Shepherd's knowing what the ancient Poets have deliver'd, concerning the different Ages, and other things, I shall not determinewhether 'tis natural or not: because not only _Theocritus_, whoseShepherds are as well vers'd in History as other Men, and _Virgil_, whose Shepherds are often Philosophers, have gone in this way, but ourCountryman Mr. Phillips also, whose excellency is his Correctness. (Lang. ) _Thrice happy Shepherds now! for_ Dorset _loves The Country Muse, and our delightful Groves. While_ Anna _reigns. O ever may she reign!_ And bring on Earth a Golden-Age again. _Pastor_. 6. I shall leave the Reader also to determine concerning the followingpiece of Knowledge. (Hob. ) _Full fain, O blest_ Eliza! _would I praise Thy Maiden Rule, and Albion's Golden Days_. Then gentle _Sidney_ liv'd, the Shepherds Friend: _Eternal Blessings on his Shade descend!_ The same is to be said of other the like Passages, but the most ordinaryCapacity may judge what Knowledge is, or is not, consistent with theBanner of a Shepherd's Education. CHAP. IV. _How to form the Pastoral Characters, and the great Difficulty of doingit_. A Poet, who would write up to the Perfection of Pastoral, will findnothing more difficult (unless the Dialect) than the inventing asufficient Number of Pastoral Characters; such as are both faultless andbeautiful. That difficulty proceeds from hence. In Epick and Tragick Poetry we have the whole scope of all Men's Tempersand Passions to draw; which are widely various and different: As, theSavage and Wild; the Ambitious; the Simple and Tender-hearted; theSubtle, &c. Thus in the Epick and Tragick Poems, you draw the generalQualities of all Men's Minds. But in Pastoral, you are pinn'd down toone of these common qualities (which is Simplicity and Tenderness. )And laying that as a Foundation, from thence draw your particularCharacters. In every Character still supposing that at the bottom ofit, and to accompany it. But Rules of this Nature, are like MathematicalAssertions, not easily explain'd, but by Examples. Tho' I think, _Cubbin_, I need not insist long on this to you; for your Characters arenot much faulty in this particular. If I remember aright; some of yourCharacters are these: Paplet has Simplicity and Tenderness: But her distinguishing Characteris, that she is a May, so young, as to be entirely ignorant of Love; butextreamly Curious to be let into the Nature of Men and Lovers. Collikin has Simplicity and Tenderness: But withal a Tincture ofInconstancy in his Nature. Soflin, with her Simplicity and Tenderness, is excessive Easy, andComplying, to a Fault; open and too free-hearted. Florey has Simplicity; and Tenderness for his Lass; but he is almost outof Humour with himself for being so soft. He is suppos'd to be broughtup in the lonely Cave with Paplet; and his natural Tamper is wild andexcessive brisk; hating the House, and delighting in Hunting. But youshow, I see, only a Glimpse of his Natural Temper, which breaks outat times; but he is drawn as tender, being all the Time in Love withPoppit. The rest of your Characters have the same Foundation; nor break in, Ithink, upon Simplicity and Tenderness. 'Tis true indeed, as to the Difficulty of forming Pastoral Characters, beyond those of Epick Poetry; That even there, one general Charactershould diffuse it self thro' all the rest, and that is Bravery. (For _Homer_ might, I think, as well have brought in a Baboon, or aHedge-hog, for Heroick Characters, as a _Vulcan_ and a _Thirsites_. ) ButBravery will coincide with greatly more Tempers than Pastoral Simplicityand Tenderness; nor does it lay the Poet under a Restraint comparably sogreat. 'Tis farther observable, as to the Difficulty of forming the PastoralCharacters, that if we wou'd write up to the Perfection of Pastoral, 'tis necessary that whatever habit or temper of Mind distinguishes anyCHARACTER in the first Pastoral, wherever that CHARACTER afterwardsappears, thro' the whole set of Pastorals, it must appear with thesame Temper as before; that is, 'tis not enough to have the Charactersuniform and just thro' one and the same Pastoral, but what is theCharacter of any Swain or Lass in the first and second Pastoral, that must be their Character in all the rest, if they are nam'd orintroduc'd, tho' never so slightly. For by this means, not onlyevery single Pastoral will make a regular Piece, but the whole set ofPastorals also constitute together one uniform and ample Poem; if theReader delights to fill his Mind with a large and ample Scheme. The set of Pastorals would be still more perfect, if the Characterswere also all continued on from the first to the last Pastoral, and nonedrop'd, as 'twere, in silence; but in the Pastorals which draw towardsthe End, the Characters should be all disposed of in Pastoral, and afteran entertaining Manner; so that the two or three last Pastorals will belike the fifth Act in a Tragedy, where the Catastrophe is drawn up. Thereasonableness of this appear's from hence. I suppose the Poet to formhis Story so, and so to draw his Characters, that the Reader's Mind maybe engag'd and concern'd for the Personages. Now the Mind is uneasy if'tis not let into the issue of the Affairs of the Person it has beenlong Intent upon, and given to know whether he is finally Unfortunate, or Happy. SECT. _Last_. Thus far proceeded Sophy, when Night drew on. He shut his Book; andCubbin told him, he had not pass'd many days with so much Delight asthat. If you have found my Discourse, said Sophy, entertaining, do notfail of being here again early to morrow Morning, and I will continueit to you. The Shepherd express'd his Satisfaction, and they hasted hometogether. The following Morn was fair and inviting; they both appear'd when theLark began his Mattin Song; and Sophy thus proceeded. _The End of the Second Part_. P A R T III. CHAP. I. _Of the Sentiments in general_. I must crave leave to extend the Signification of the Word Sentiment, tothe including tooth IMAGE and THOUGHT. For I think the Criticks shouldby all means have, before now, made that Division, and the omission hasoccasion'd the greatest Obscurity and Confusion in the Writings of thosewho have discours'd on any particular Kind of Sentiment. But that theReader may take the more Care to keep this Distinction in his Head, wewill give one Instance of the Confusion it occasion'd in the Mind of_Longinus_, who treated the Sublime, and certainly ought to have had aclear Notion of the Subject he wrote so largely, and so floridly upon. Now in his sixth _Section_, he make's it a Question, and discourseslargely, whether Passion can go along with a Sublime SENTIMENT. But anyone who has divided Sentiment into Image and Thought would laugh at thisQuestion; it being so plain that passion is consistent with a SublimeThought, and is not with a Sublime Image. Would not any person who desired to acquire a true and thorough Notionof a sublime Sentiment, so as to know one, wherever met, be puzzledat _Longinus_'s telling him, _Homer_'s Sentiment is sublime, wherehe make's the _Giant_'s heap Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa Wood-top'dPelion; and a little after telling him that _Alexander_'s to _Parmeno_is a sublime Sentiment. _Parmeno_ say's, _Were I Alexander, I wouldembrace these Proposals of Peace_. _Alexander_ reply'd, _And I, by theGods, were I Parmeno_. These Sentiments of _Homer_ and _Alexander_ (tho'equally sublime) are as different as a Bright and a Tender Sentiment. Ifthen I have settled one in my Mind, as sublime, How shall I conceive theother as such? But there is no other way of avoiding this Confusion, and of beingequally certain of all sublime Sentiments, but by knowing that thefirst of these is a sublime Image, and the last a sublime Thought orSentiment. And you will find, if you consider the Nature of _Homer_'sImage, all sublime Images are like it; and the same of _Alexander_'ssublime Thought. Altho' the sublime Sentiments in general are sodifferent. But since we are accidentally engag'd in considering the Sublime; I willendeavour to show you how to judge infallibly of a Sublime SENTIMENT. For I think it cannot be gotten from _Longinus_; or at least, I couldnever learn it from that most Florid and Ingenious author. And it may beshown in three Lines, as well as in so many Volumes. A Sublime Image always dilate's and widen's the Mind, and put's it uponthe Stretch. It comprehends somewhat almost too big for it's Reach;and where the Mind is most stretch'd, the Image is most Sublime; if weconsider no foreign Assistances. As _Homer_ say's, _The Horses of theGods, sprung as far at every Stride, as a Man can see who sit's upon theSea-shore_. But foreign Assistances, as a figurative Turn, &c. May raisea passage to an equal degree of Sublimity, which yet does not so largelydilate the Mind; as this of _Shakespear_'s is more Sublime than that of_Homer_'s. --_Heaven_'s Cherubs, _hors'd Upon the sightless_ Curriers _of the Air, Shall blow the horrid Deed in every Eye_. _Macbeth_. Act. 1. Scen. 7 The not having a perfect Idea of the Sentiment, make's us conceivesomething the greater of it. A Sublime Thought always gives us a greater and more noble Conception ofeither the Person speaking; the Person spoken of; or, the Thing spokenof. I need not instance; but if you apply this to any of the Thoughts of_Homer_, or _Shakespear_, generally call'd Sublime, you'll find it willalways square. Here let me make one Observation: That you may never be mistaken injudging of a Sublime Passage, _Cubbin_, take notice; that there aresome Thoughts so much imaged in the Turn that is given to 'em, by thefigurative Expression, that they lose the name of Thoughts, and commenceImages. I will mention one out of _Shakespear_, (who uses this Methodthe most of any Author, and 'tis almost the only thing that raises hisLanguage) I will mention it, because, being in it self a low and commonSentiment, he has made it the most Sublime, I think, of any he has. _Macbeth_'s Lady say's, before the Murther of the King. --_Come, thick Night. And pall thee in the dunnest Smoak of Hell, That my keen Knife see not the Wound it makes Nor Heav'n peep thro' the Blanket of the Dark, To cry, Hold! Hold!_ _Macbeth_ Act. 1. Scen. 5. But I run the Digression too far. CHAP. II. _Of the Images. And which are proper for Pastoral, which not_. Let us proceed to consider what Images will shine most in PASTORAL. Andhere I shall not consider all kinds of Images, both good and vicious, but only those which are in their own nature good; and among those showwhich may, and which may not, be introduc'd into Pastoral. Of Images, in their own Nature good, only the BEAUTIFUL, and the[A]GLOOMY are, properly speaking, fit for Pastoral. The Uncommon, theTerrible, and the Sublime, being improper. [Footnote A: _The Division of the Images and Thoughts is made, and thenature of the_ GLOOMY _consider'd, in the Critical Preface to the SecondPart of our Pastorals_. ] If any other kinds of Images are introduced, they must be artfullyqualify'd, or else be faulty; the Methods to be used in so qualifyingthem, are too numerous to recount. But give me leave to put down one, which relates to the Language. Suppose you was to describe some LOVELADS and LASSES roving a littleby the Sea-shore in a guilded Boat; when, on a sudden, the Wind arises, drives 'em into the middle of the Main at once, and dashes the _Gondola_on a Rock. Might you not describe such a boistrous Circumstance in aneasy and Pastoral manner. _Sore raven the fell Sea (Oh sorry Sight!) And strait (most wofull Word) the Boat doth split_. But these are things which are better left to the Writer's own Genius, than to Rule and Criticism. As to the gloomy Images, I shall only caution the Pastoral Writer, thatthey must be of a very different Nature from those in Epick Poetry orTragedy: That is, the gloomy must not be so strong; but the Images mustrather contain a pleasing Amusement. And that they'll do, if they aredrawn from the Country: As _Fairies_; _Will-o'-Wisps_; _the Evening_;_falling Stars_; and the like, will all furnish Images exactly agreeableto Pastoral. Having made this Observation on the _Gloomy Images_, let us now proceedto the Consideration of the Beautiful, which will detain us somewhatlonger. SECT. 2. _Of Beautiful Images. And of those; which are more, which less fine_. In my usual way of considering Beautiful Images; for the greaterClearness, I rank 'em into three several Classes. This division I donot desire to impose on any one else; but the mentioning it, cannot beamiss. Of the three sorts or kinds of Beautiful Images, the first, and leastdelightful is, where only a simple Image is exhibited to the Reader'sMind. As of a Fair Shepherdess. The second Sort is, where there is the Addition of the Scene; as supposewe give the Picture of the fair Shepherdess, sitting on the Banks of apleasant streamlet. The third, and finest kind of Beautiful Images is, where the Picturecontain's a still further Addition of action. As, the Image of a fairShepherdess, on the Banks of a pleasant Stream asleep, and her innocentLover harmlessly smoothing her Cloaths as flutter'd by the Wind. And themost beautiful Image in Phillips, or I think any Pastoral-Writer, is ofthis Nature. _Once_ Delia _lay, on easy Moss reclin'd; Her lovely Limbs half bare, and rude the Wind. I smooth'd her Coats, and stole a silent Kiss; Condemn me, Shepherds, if I did amiss_. _Past_. 5. The last Line contains a Pastoral Thought, of the best Sort; as thethree first a Pastoral Image. The middle of this last Pastoral is full of beautiful Images, and hastherefore proved so Entertaining to all Readers, that I wonder Mr. Phillips would not give us the Beautiful in his four first Pieces also. Of all the Persons who have written in the English Language, no one everhad a Mind so well form'd by Nature for Pleasurable Writing, as Spencer. Yet as he wrote his Pastorals when very Young, this does not appear somuch from them, as from his Fairy Queen; thro' which, (like Ovid, in hisMetamorphoses) he has perpetually recourse to Pastoral. Especially inhis Second Book; in which there are more pleasurable Pastoral Images inevery eight Lines, than in all his Pastorals. We have Knights basking inthe Sun by a pleasant Stream, rambling among the Shepherdesses, enteringdelightful Groves surrounded with Trees, or the like, almost in everyStanza; but thro' all his Pastorals, we have not half a dozen beautifulImages. 'Tis therefore the Pastoral Language that support's 'em, whichhe took excessive pains about. CHAP. III. _Of Pastoral Descriptions. And what Authors have the finest_. Of Images are form'd Descriptions, as by a Combination of Thoughts aSpeech is composed. And a Description is good or bad, chiefly as theImages or Circumstances are judiciously, or otherwise, chosen; andartfully put together. As to the putting them together, I shall only observe, that inDescriptions of the Heat of Love, not in Pastoral, but in such Piecesas Sapho's, or the like, the Circumstances should be couch'd extreamlyclose; in Epick Poetry the Circumstances should be somewhat less closelyheap'd together; and that Pastoral requires 'em the most diffuse of any;being of a Nature extreamly calm and sedate. Hence we may learn what Length Pastoral will admit of in it'sDescriptions. And certain it is, that as we are easily wearied by a coldSpeech, so are we by a cold Description, unless very concise. But as those Poets whose Minds have delighted in Pastoral Images havealways been Men of Pleasurable Fancies, and who never would bring theirMinds under the Regulation of Art; all who have touch'd Pastoral thefinest have egregiously offended in this Particular. The only Writers, Ithink, who have ever had Genius's form'd for Pastoral Images, are _Ovid_and _Spencer_; which appear's from the _Metamorphoses_ of the first, andthe _Fairy-Queen_ of the latter. As for _Theocritus_, he seem's to meto be better in the Pastoral Thought than Image; and as I rank together_Ovid_ and _Spencer_, so I put _Theocritus_ in the same Class with_Otway_. And I think any one of these Four, if he had form'd his Mindaright by Art, (that is, had either thoroughly understood Criticismin all it's Branches, or else never vitiated his natural Genius by anyLearning) was capable of giving the World a perfect Sett of Pastorals. The former two would have run most upon beautiful Images, and the lattertwo upon Agreeable Thoughts. I need not instance in the tedious Descriptions of _Theocritus_, _Ovid_and _Spencer_. But certainly, if long Descriptions are faulty in EpickPoetry, as they prevent the Curiosity of the Reader, and leave himnothing to invent, or to imploy his own Mind upon, they are inPastoral much more disagreeable. Tho' if any thing would excuse along Description, there is in _Ovid_ and _Spencer_, that inimitableDelightfulness, which would make 'em pass. Virgil has no Descriptions inhis Pastorals so long as Spencer, and Heavens deliver us if he had; foras 'tis, I can better read the longest of _Spencer_'s, than the shortestof his, in his Pastorals. SECT. 2. _The proper Length for Descriptions adjusted, from severalConsiderations_. What I have laid down seem's in its self plain and evident; but because_Rapin_, and some other Criticks, famous for the Niceness of theirJudgments, have made it a considerable Question, and at last own'dthemselves unable to decide it, I shall further consider the Matter. 'Tis best, I think, only just to exhibit the Picture of an Object to theReader's Mind; for if 'tis rightly set and well given, he will himselfsupply the minute Particulars better to please himself than any Poet cando; as no different Fancies are equally delighted with one and the samething, the Poet in an extended Description must needs hit upon manyCircumstances not pleasant to every Fancy; even tho' he touches all thebest Particulars. But if the Poet only set's the Image in the finestLight, by enumerating two or three Circumstances, the Reader's Mindin that very instant it sees the Image or Picture, fill's up all theOmissions with such Particulars, as are most suitable to it's own singleFancy. Which farther conceives something beyond, and something out ofthe way, if all is not told. Whereas descending to Particulars cool'sthe Mind, which in those Cases ever finds less than it expected. To instance in Painting, for that's the same. When I first cast my Eyeon a beauteous Landscape, and take in a View of the whole and all it'sparts at once, I am in Rapture, not knowing distinctly what it is thatpleases me; but when I come to examine all the several Parts, they seemless delightful. Pleasure is greatest if we know not whence it proceeds. And such is the Nature of Man, that if he has all he desires he is nolonger delighted; but if ought is with-held, he is still in Eagerness, and full of Curiosity. Besides, Descriptions in Pastoral should be particularly short, becauseit draw's into Description nought but the most Common tho' the mostBeautiful of Nature's Works: Whereas Epick Poetry, whose Business isto Astonish, represents Monsters and Things unheard of before, and a_Polyphemus_ or a _Cyclops_ will bear, nay require, a more particularDescription, than a beauteous Grott, or falling Water; because theOne is only calling up into our Mind what we knew before, the other isCreation. Besides that in Epick Poetry the Descriptions are generallymore necessary than in Pastoral. To describe the fair Bank where yourLovers sate to talk does not help the _Fable_; but if _Homer_ had notprepared us, by a particular Description of _Polyphemus_'s hugeness, hewould not have been credited, when he afterwards said, _That he hurl'dsuch a Piece of a Rock after_ Ulysses'_s Ship, as drove it back, tho' ittouch'd it not, but only plung'd into the Waves, and made 'em roll withso great Violence_. I shall only add one Observation on this Head, and proceed. Pastoraladmits of _Narration_ and _Dialogue_, but in _Narration_ we may begreatly more diffuse in our Descriptions than in the _Dialogue_ part ofthe Piece. For nothing in Poetry is to be preserv'd with more care thanprobability, especially in Pastoral. Now for a Shepherd to be relatingan Accident of Concern, and to dwell on a Description of Place or Personfor four or five Lines in the midst, does it not look as if 'twere onlyVerses written, and not a Tale actually told by the Swain, since insuch a Case 'tis natural to hast to the main Point, and not to dwell soparticularly on Matters of no Consideration. I might give several other Reasons for the shortness of PastoralDescriptions, as that 'tis the manner of Shepherds not to dwell on oneMatter so precisely, but to run from one thing to another; Also, thatthe Reader's Mind is delighted when it has scope to employ it self; andthe like. But the clearness of the Question prevents me. SECT. 3. _What Pastoral Images will shine most in a Description_. We have just shown which Images are the finest; and 'tis evident that byan accumulation of the best Images is form'd the best Description. 'Tisnot here my business particularly to show which Circumstances, in anyDescription, are best, which worst; 'tis enough, that in general Weaffirm the most Beautiful to be finest in Pastoral, and the most Sublimein Epick Poetry; which are most Beautiful, and which are most Sublime Ihave elsewhere shown. Yet there are several foreign Assistances or Adjuncts, which do greatlyadd to a beautiful Circumstance; as for Instance; if along witha beautiful Image, we by any means show at once the Happiness andInnocence of the rural Inhabiters, it renders the Circumstance greatlymore delightful. This can't so well be explain'd as by an Instance. _Ovid_ describes _PROSERPINA_, as she is gathering Flowers in a Meadowamong her Play-Fellows, hurried away by _PLUTO_, in order to herRavishment. Among the Misfortunes, which that Violence brought upon theInnocent young Creature, this is one; _And oh, out Lap the pretty florets fell_. There is no Circumstance in any Author, nor any one will be everinvented, more proper for Pastoral than this Line: As it contains notonly a most beautiful Image, but show's us at once the Simplicity, and Happiness of the Country, where even such Accidents are accountedMisfortunes. But this is a Circumstance that would but just bear the touching upon;and _Ovid_ by his two next Lines, has, I think, spoil'd it. In Mr. _SEWEL_'s Translation they run thus. _Oft on her_ Mates, _oft on her Mother call's, And from her Lap her fragrant Treasure fall's; And she (such Innocence in Youth remains) Of that small Loss, among the rest, complains_. If he had stopt with the second Line he had put himself, as 'twere, inthe place of a Shepherd, and spoke of the Misfortune as if it came fromhis Heart, and he was interested for the Beauteous Innocent. But in thetwo last Lines he takes upon him the Author, is grave and reflecting;but nothing is so Beautiful in these kind of Descriptions, as for aWriter to put himself as 'twere in the Place of the Person he speaksof; and unless a Writer delights to do this, and takes Pleasure in hisCharacters, and has, as 'twere, a Love and Kindness for 'em, he'llnever excell in Pastoral. And I have been told, Cubbin, by some of yourAcquaintance, that they can easily tell what sort of Characters you werefondest of when your wrote your Pastorals; for there is one you nevermention but with an unusual Pleasure and Alacrity; and it appear's fromyour Description of her that your Heart was on the flutter when you drewit. And if you read it over now, so long after, you'll observe it. Butit has made you excell your self. SECT. 4. _Cautions for the avoiding some Faults which_ Theocritus, Ovid, Spencer, Tasso, &c. Have fallen into in their Descriptions_. The generality of our narrative Poets under their general Descriptions, bring in the Descriptions of particular and lesser Things. This is veryfaulty. I might Instance In _OVID_, _SPENCER_, _CHAUCER_, &c, but thereis an Example of this so very flagrant in _TASSO_, that I can't forbearmentioning it, as I think 'tis the most monstrous one I ever saw, andthese Observations relate alike to Epick Poetry and Pastoral. ThisAuthor has occasion in the Thirteenth Book of his Hierusalem to describea Drought, which he does In Six and Fifty Lines, and then least we mightmistake what he's describing tell's us in Eight Lines more, how theSoldiers panted and languished thro' excessive Heat, then in Eight moredescribes the Horses panting and languishing; then in Eight more givesus a Description of the Dogs, who lay before the Tents also panting andlanguishing, and so on. This is what I mean by bringing one Description within another; and 'tisthe greatest of Faults. We lose all thoughts of the general Description, and are so engaged in Under-ones, that we have forgot what he at firstpropos'd to describe. Another Observation I would make, is, that a Pastoral Writer should beparticularly careful not to proceed too far, or dwell too minutely onCircumstances, in his most pleasurable Descriptions, which we may termthe Luscious. Such as _Spencer_'s, where he makes his Knight lye loll'din Pleasures, and Damsels stripping themselves and dancing around forhis Diversion. This, _SPENCER_ methinks carries to an excess; for hedescribes 'em catching his Breath as it steam'd forth; distilling theSugar'd Liquor between his Lips, and the like. Such Descriptions willgrow fulsome if more than just touch'd, as the most delicious things thesoonest cloy. CHAP. IV. _That Pastoral should Image almost every thing_. There is nothing more recommends the Tragedys of Mr. _Row_, than hisLanguage, which I think is (in it's own Nature) particularly Beautiful. As I cannot forbear looking into the Springs and Means by which our bestPoets attain their Excellence in the several Dialects they touch thefinest, what 'tis that constitutes the Difference between the Languageof one and that of another; and also what Rank or Class each Dialectbelongs to; I have done the same as to the Writings of Mr. _Row_. AndI observe that the chiefest Means he makes use of to render his TragickLanguage at once Uncommon and Delightful, is the Figurative Way ofconsidering Things as Persons. What I mean is this. ----_Comfort Dispels the sullen Shades with her sweet Influence_. And again: ----_My wrongs will tear their Way, And rush at once upon thee_. Jane Shore: _Act_ 1. And this is extreamly frequent, especially in Jane Shore. And nothingcan be more Beautiful in Heroick Language; and this Author has someSentiments dress'd, by this Figurative Way, as finely as most of_Shakespear_'s; As this _Care only wakes, and moping Pensiveness; With Meagre, discontented Looks they sit, And watch the wasting of the Mid-night Taper_. Now what is this but imaging almost every thing, or turning as manyThoughts as possible into Images? Now if the Thoughts in strong Lines, (as they call 'em) appear best inImagery, how much more will Pastoral Thoughts. The former have Passionand Heat to support 'em, the latter are entirely Simple. And If HeroickWriters are fond of Images, how much more should Pastoral Writers avoida long Series of bare Thoughts, and endeavour to Address the Mind of theReader with a constant Variety of Pictures. What I have here delivered may seem trifling to the Reader. But if helooks into the modern Pastoral-Writers he'll observe that the Scarcityof Images goes a great way towards making their Pieces flat and insipid. And 'tis impossible indeed to have a sufficient Variety of Images in aPastoral that is compos'd by nought but a mournful Speech or Complaint. Therefore a Writer who would not only write regular, but also delightfulPastorals, should doubtless run very much upon Description. I need not make the Distinction between an Epick and a Pastoral Writer'smanner of Imaging. They are widely different; nor can a Pastoral Imageso many Things as an Epick Writer. For he cannot consider Things asPersons, nor use the other Methods that Heroick Poetry takes to effectit. CHAP. V. _Of the Thoughts. And which are proper for Pastoral, which not_. I Shall not consider those Thoughts which are, in their own Nature, Vicious; as the Ambiguous, the Pointed, the Insipid, the Refined, the Bombast, and the rest. But of those Kind of Thoughts which arein themselves good, only these three do properly belong to Pastoral;namely, The Agreeable, or Joyous; The Mournful, or Piteous; And the Softor Tender. Yet the rest of those Thoughts which are in their own Nature good, may be so order'd as to bear a part in Pastoral. For as We may make aShepherd false to his Mistress, if he be offended with the Levity of hisNature; so We may make a Lass Ill-natured and Satyrical, for Instance, if 'tis not in her Temper, but assumed only for a good Purpose. SECT. 2. _Of those Thoughts which are proper for Pastoral, how to Judge which arefinest_. I need only observe, that where is the greatest Combination of thosethings which make the best Figure in Pastoral, that is always the bestThought. As a Thought that is not only agreeable or Beautiful, but hasalso Simplicity. The two finest Passages that I remember in _THEOCRITUS_for their Simplicity, are these. Which are exceeding well Translatedby _CREECH_; whose Language (next to some of _Spencer's_) is vastly thebest we have, for pastoral. I will quote the whole Passage. Daph. ) _And as I drove my Herd, a lovely Maid Stood peeping from a Cave; she smil'd, and said, Daphnis is lovely, ah! a lovely Youth; What Smiles, what Graces sit upon his Mouth! I made no sharp Returns, but hung my Head And went my Way, yet pleas'd with what she said_. Idyll. 8. Of the same Nature is what _COMATAS_ says in another Place. Com. ) _I milk two Goats; a Maid in yonder Plain Lookt on, and Sigh'd_, Dost milk thy self poor Swain! And what follows soon after. Com. ) _The fair Calistria, as my Goats I drove, With Apples pelts me, and still murmurs Love_. Idyll. 5. Tho' these Thoughts are so exceeding Beautiful thro' their Simplicity, I rather take 'em to be Agreeable Thoughts; and Simplicity to be only anAdjunct or Addition to 'em; as Passion is an Addition and Embellishmentto the Sublime Thoughts. The Mournful Thought, with the Addition of Simplicity, is as pleasing, Ithink, as the Agreeable with Simplicity. The finest of this kind that Iremember in _THEOCRITUS_, are in his 22 _Idyll_. A Shepherd resolves toHang himself, being scorn'd by the Fair he ador'd. For the more he wasfrown'd upon the more he loved. _But when o'recome, he could endure no more, He came and wept before the hated Dora; He wept and pin'd, he hung the sickly Head, The Threshold kist, and thus at last he said_. Many Thoughts In the Complaint are as fine as this. As, of the followingLines, the 3d and 4th. _Unworthy of my Love, this Rope receive. The last, most welcome Present I can give. I'll never vex thee more. I'll cease to woe. And whether you condemned, freely go; Where dismal Shades and dark_ Oblivion _dwell_. Of the same Nature also is what soon after follows. _Yet grant one Kindness and I ask no more; When you shall see me hanging at the Door. Do not go proudly by, forbear to smile. But stay, _ Sweet Fair, _and gaze, and weep a while; Then take me down, and whilst some Tears are shed, Thine own soft Garment o're my Body spread. And grant One Kiss, --One Kiss when I am dead. Then dig a Grave, there let my Love be laid; And when you part, say thrice, _ My friend is Dead. All these Thoughts contain Simplicity as an Addition to the Mournful. And 'tis impossible for any Thoughts to be more Natural. 'Twere endless to enumerate all the several kinds of Beautiful PastoralThoughts, but from these any one may discover the rest; and the generalRule we gave at the beginning of the Chapter will be a Direction for hisranging them into distinct Classes. Yet give me leave to mention one Kind, which I think we may term thefinest. 'Tis where the Agreeable Thought, and the Tender, meet together, and have besides, the Addition of Simplicity. I would explain my Meaningby a Quotation out of some Pastoral Writer, but I am at a loss how todo it; give me leave therefore to bring a Passage out of the Orphan. AThought may contain the Tender, either with regard to some Person spokenof, or the Person speaking. The first is common, this Play is fullof it. I will therefore Instance in the latter. And first where 'tischiefly occasion'd by the turn that is given to it in the Expression. Chamont presses his Sister to tell him who has abused her. Mon. ) _But when I've told you, will you keep your Fury Within it's bound? Will you not do some rash And horrid Mischief? for indeed_, Shamont, _You would not think how hardly I've been used From a near Friend_. Cham. ) _I will be calm; but has_ Castalio _wrong'd thee?_ Mon. ) _Oh! could you think it!_ (Cham. ) _What?_ Mon. ) _I fear he'll kill me_. (Cham. ) _Hah!_ Mon. ) _Indeed I do; he's strangely cruel too me. Which if it lasts, I'm sure must break my Heart_. Act. 4. In the other passage the Tender lyes more in the Thought. Mon. ) _Alas my Brother! What have I done? And why do you abuse me? My Heart quakes in me; in your settled Face And clouded Brow methink's I see my Fate; You will not kill me!_ Cham. ) _Prithee, why dost talk so?_ Mon. ) _Look kindly on me then, I cannot bear Severity; it daunts and does amaze me. My Heart's so tender, should you charge me rough. I should but Weep, and Answer you with Sobing. But use me gently, like a loving Brother, And search thro' all the Secrets of my Soul_. CHAP. VI. _Of three Kind of Thoughts which seem to be false, yet are admitted andvalued by Pastoral Writers_. Tho' I proposed not to consider those Thoughts which are false, eitherin their own Nature, or with Respect to Pastoral; yet there are somesuch, that yet are thought good, by the generality of Writers, which Ishall therefore Just mention; since Pastoral-Writers are especially fondof 'em, and seem to look upon 'em as Beautys. Of these false Thoughtsthere are, I think, three sorts. The EMBLEMATICAL, the ALLEGORICAL, andthe REFINED. Of the first Sort, or the EMBLEMATICAL, _SPENCER_ was so fond, that hemakes it run all thro' his first and last Pastoral; which two comethe nearest of any he has to true Pastorals; and contain Thoughts morepleasant than those in his other (especially his Allegorical) Pieces. But these pleasant Thoughts are mostly Emblematical, as this, which Ithink, is in SPENCER. _My Leaf is dry'd, my Summer Season's done, And Winter, blasting Blossoms, hieth on_. Meaning that his happy time of Life was past, and Old Age drew on. Ineed not prove these Thoughts to be improper for Pastoral. The Second Sort, or the ALLEGORICAL, is also what _SPENCER_ delightedequally in. His every Pastoral almost has under the plain Meaning ahidden one. Let all judge of Allegorical Pastorals as they please, butin my Opinion, they are not consistent with the Simplicity of that Poem. The Third Sort I mention'd was the _REFINED_. And of this our ModernSwains are as fond, as _SPENCER_ was of the two first. But all theDifficulty is to show that their Thoughts are refin'd; for all allow aRefin'd Thought to be faulty. But those I am going to mention are notat present look't upon as such. As that Apostrophe, where the Shepherdcalls upon the Works of Nature to assist him in his Grief. This Thoughtbeing us'd by all Pastoral-Writers show's how Beautiful they thought it:And the generality of them, 'tis plain, took delight in the Affectationof it, because they have put it as affected as they could. If 'tis possible for any, the finest Turn, that can be given it, toprevent the Affectation, I think the Ingenious Mr. _ROW_ has done it, inhis excellent Tragedy, call'd _JANE SHORE_. _Give me your Drops, Ye soft-descending Rains, Give me your Streams, Ye never-ceasing Springs, &c_. But the very best Turn, methinks, that can possibly be given to thisThought, Mr. _PHILIPS_, in his Pastorals, has hit upon. _Teach me to grieve, with bleating Moan, my Sheep, Teach me, thou ever-flowing Stream, to weep; Teach me, ye faint, ye hollow Winds, to sigh, And let my Sorrows teach me how to dye_. The Thought likewise of the Heavens and the Works of Nature wailingalong with the Swain, is what Pastoral-Writers all aim at. I need notquote different Authors, for the different Turns that are given to thisThought; I remember Mr. _CONGREVE_ has it in four several Places. Thebest express'd, I think, is this. _The Rocks can Melt, and Air in Mists can mourn, And Floods can weep, and winds to Sighs can turn, &c_. It seem's to be turn'd the best next in these Lines. _And now the Winds, which had so long been still, Began the swelling Air, with Sighs to fill, &c_. The Affectation of the Thought show's it self rather more, I think, inthe following Lines. _And see, the Heav'ns to weep in Dew prepare. And heavy Mists obscure the burd'ned Air On ev'ry Tree the Blossoms turn to Tears, And every Bough a weeping Moisture bears_. But give me leave to quote the Thought once more and I have done. _The Marble Weep's, and with a silent Pace, It's trickling Tears distil upon her Face. Falsely ye weep, ye Rocks, and falsely Mourn! For never will ye let the Nymph return!_ If any should have a Curiosity to see these Thoughts at large, forwe have not quoted the whole of 'em, he may find 'em in _Congreve_'sPastoral, call'd _The Mourning Muse of_ ALEXIS. I shall trouble you with but one Thought more of those which we reduceunder the Denomination of Refin'd, and that is the ANTITHESIS. I do notjust now remember a Line of this Nature in any Author but Mr. _PHILIPS_;otherwise, I avoid hinting at particular Faults in a Writer who isgenerally regular and correct, in his Sentiments. _In vain thou seek'st the Cov'rings of the Grove, In the cool Shades to sing the Heats of Love_. SECT. 2. _Of_ SIMPLE THOUGHTS. _And the finest quoted out of_ SHAKESPEAR _and_PHILIPS. 'Twould be well if Pastoral-Writers would leave aiming at such Thoughtsas these, and endeavour to introduce the Simple Ones in their stead. But what is most surprizing, is, that their false Thoughts are as seldomtheir own, as their true ones, and they steal all indifferently from_THEOCRITUS_ and _VIRGIL_. Which shows how necessary it is to be athorough Critick, if you would be a good Poet. Pastoral-Writers are sufficiently for Simplicity; nay so much, thatthey form their Storys or Fables so little and triffling as to affordno Pleasure; is it not strange then that they should be so averse toSimplicity in their Thoughts; where Simplicity would be the greatestBeauty in their Poetry? Pastoral-Writers have all sorts of falseThoughts but those which we may call the Too Simple. I do not indeedknow any Author who has such a Thought unless it be our wide-thoughted_SHAKESPEAR_. And indeed 'tis scarce possible to rise to Simplicityenough, in Pastoral, much less to have a Thought too Simple. _SHAKESPEAR_'s is this. Des. ) _Mine Eyes do itch, doth that boad Weeping?_ Emil. ) _'Tis neither here nor there_. Des. ) _I have heard it said so: O these Men, these Men! Dost thou in Conscience think, tell me_ Emilia, _That there be Women do abuse their Husbands, In such gross kind_? &c. Othello. Act. 4. Sc. Last. But if this passage is too Simple, 'tis for Tragedy so, not forPastoral; and because _DESDEMONA_ was a Senators Daughter, and Educatedin so polite a place as _VENICE_; but in Pastoral, I think, we mayIntroduce a Character so Young, Simple and Innocent, that there is noThought so Simple but will square with it; at least, we have no Instanceof any such one as yet. The Simplicity of this Scene would be inimitablefor Pastoral; and I think, it shows as great if not a greater Genius, in the Writing it, than any one in _SHAKESPEAR_. But a Scene so trulySimple and Innocent cannot well be represented. Besides, what is bestwrit is most open to the Ridicule of little Genius's; And more, I doubt, look upon this Scene in _OTHELLO_ as Comedy, than have a taste of thatsweet Simplicity, that is in it, if we consider the Sentiments only inthemselves. Yet must we not carry the Reflection too far, of Pastoral-Writers havingno such thing as the Simple in any of their Thoughts, for thereare passages in Mr. _PHILIPS Pieces_ truly Simple. And 'tis worthyObservation how beautiful a figure they make, tho' we don't consider'em as being in a Pastoral. Such is the celebrated one, contain'd in thelast of these Lines. _I smooth'd her Coats, and stole a silent Kiss: Condemn me Shepherds if I did amiss_. _Phllips Past_. 6. But we have greatly more Simple Thoughts in other Pieces than inPastorals. The finest of all which, is this famous one in _OTHELLO_. _Why I should fear I know not, Since Guiltiness I know not: But yet I feel I fear_. Yet need we not much wonder at the scarcity of these Simple Thoughts;since there is nothing requires so great a Genius as finely to touchthe SIMPLE; and the greatest Genius's never attempt Pastoral; it beinga Form so mean, little and trifling, without the Ornaments of Poetry, FABLE, MANNERS, MORAL, &c. And of a confused Imperfect Nature. CHAP. VII. _Of COMPARISONS in Pastoral. And how much our modern Pastoral-Writershave fail'd therein_. SIMILIES in Pastoral must be managed with an exceeding deal of Care, orthey will be faulty. As a Poet may range Nature for Comparisons; thisgives a Pastoral-Writer a very easy Opportunity of introducing ruralThoughts. _VIRGIL_ therefore, and those Swains who have writtenPastorals more by Art and Imitation than Genius, generally heap threeor four SIMILIES together for the same thing; and which is of no Moment;nor wanted any Comparison. As I have hinted that _Theocritus_ had a Genius capable of writing aperfect Set of Pastorals, his Similies are infinitely the best of anySwain's. The chief Rule, I think, to be observ'd is (if Rules can begiven for such Things as these) that SIMILIES be contain'd in three orfour Words. As this of _PHILIPS_'s. _Whilon did I, all as this_ Pop'lar _fair, Up-raise my heedless Head devoid of Care_, &c. Or at most they ahould not exceed a Line. As this is a very Beautifulone In the same Author. And also in his 1st Pastoral. _A Girland, deck't with all the Pride of_ May, _Sweet as her Breath, and as her Beauty gay_, &c. I shall not give my Opinion of the following Similies; yet I might saythat I think 'em not altogether so fine as the foregoing two. Altho'they contain delightful Images _As Milk-white Swans on Silver Streams do show, And Silver Streams to grace the Meadows flow; As Corn the Vales and Trees the Hills adorn, So thou to thine an Ornament was't born_. _Past_. 3. The next relates to the Sweetness of _Colinet_'s Voice. _Not half so sweet are Midnight Winds, that move In drowsy Murmurs o're the waving Grove; Nor dropping Waters, that in Grotts distil, And with a tinkling Sound their Caverns fill_. _Past_. 4. Methinks thus dressing a Thought so pompous in SIMILIES, raises so ourExpectation, that we are fit to smile when the last Line comes. There are also another kind of Similies, which being heapt in the samemanner, seem to be design'd by _VIRGIL_, and those who have taken theirThoughts from him, rather to fill up Space with somthing Pastoral, thanto be the natural Talk of Shepherds. For Swains are not suppos'd toretard their Storys by many or long SIMILIES; their Talk comes from theHeart, Unornamental; but Similies, in Pastoral, are for Ornament. But Imust show what kind of Thoughts I mean, which I also account SIMILIES, but they have a peculiar Turn given to 'em. I remember but two in Mr. _PHILIPS_ Pastorals. _First then shall lightsome Birds forget to fly, The briny Ocean turn to pastures dry, And every rapid River cease to flow, 'Ere I unmindful of_ Menalcas _grow_. The other is this. _While Mallow Kids; and Endive Lambs pursue; While Bees love Thyme; and Locusts sip the Dew;_ _While Birds delight in Woods their Notes to strain, Thy Name and sweet Memorial shall remain_. But now I have given Examples of those Similies which seem faulty; andquoted at the beginning of the Section, some that are good; I will bringan Instance of a SIMILIE, which is more delightful to the Fancy than allthese put together; and which show's that _Theocritus_ thought 'twas asmall thing to put down Pastoral Thoughts or Images, if he did not cullthe most pleasurable in Nature. _CREECH_ has translated it very well. _DAPHNIS_ had conquer'd _MENALCAS_ in Singing. _The Boy rejoyc'd, he leap'd with youthful Heat, As sucking Colts leap when they swig the Teat; The other griev'd, he hung his bashful Head, As marry'd Virgins when first laid in Bed_. CHAP. VIII. _Of imitation; or Stealing Sentiments from the_ ANTIENTS. If a direct Imitation of the Thoughts of the _Greeks_ and _Romans_, shows no great Richness of Genius, in any kind of Poetry, in Pastoral'tis much more to be avoided. If a Hero does sometimes talk out _HOMER_and _VIRGIL_, 'tis not so shocking, because tis not dissonant to Reasonto suppose such a Person acquainted with Letters and Authors; nor is anHeroick Poems Essence Simplicity; But if a Modern gives me the Talk of aShepherd, and I have seen it almost all before in _THEOCRITUS_, _VIRGIL_and _SPENCER_, it cannot delight me. For that Poetry pleases the most, that deceives the most naturally. But how can I, while I am reading apastoral, impose upon my self that I am among Swains and in the Country, if I remember all they say is in _Greek_ and _Roman_ Authors. And fewread _Modern-Writers_ but have read the _Antients_ first. A Shepherdshould speak from his Heart, as if he had no design of Pleasing, butis prompted to utter all he says: But if in all he says we see anImitation, or a Thought stole from other Authors, it destroys allSimplicity, shows Design and Labour. Besides, Epick Poetry warms and elevates the Mind, hurries it on withfury and Violence, which prevents our noting any slight Inacuracy, so asto be offended by it; but in so cool a Poem as Pastoral, whose designis to sooth and soften the Mind, we have leasure to consider everyUnnaturalness and every Improbability. SECT. 2. _Of_ Soloman'_s Allegorical pastorals; Entitled_ The CANTICLES. Yet I know not how, tho' 'tis so unnatural to find Thoughts in theMouths of Shepherds, which we have observ'd in _THEOCRITUS_ and_VIRGIL_, yet I am never better pleased than with those Thoughts whichare taken out of the Scripture. Methinks the Thoughts in the CANTICLESare so exceeding fine for Pastoral that 'tis pity to give 'em any otherTurn than what they have there; and if I did take any of those PastoralSentiments, I would translate the whole Passage as we there find it. _MILTON_ in his soft Passages has often imitated the Thoughts in theCANTICLES; and Mr. _PHILIPS_ has taken from thence the hint of thefinest Image but one he has in his Pastorals. _Breath soft ye Winds, ye Waters gently flow, Shield her ye Trees, ye Flow'rs around her grow, Ye Swains, I beg ye pass in silence by, My Love in yonder Vale asleep doth lye_. My not disliking Thoughts taken from the CANTICLES, makes me think that'tis not so much the Thoughts being stolen from _THEOCRITUS_ or _VIRGIL_that makes me dislike 'em, as the poor and mean Figure they make inPoetry. Could Poets take as fine Pastoral Images from the Antients, asthis of _Philips_, I believe no one but would be pleased by 'em, comefrom whence they would. But the Thoughts which our Writers take fromthe Antients are such, that would they trust their own Genius's, I amsatisfied they would, at least, not have worse, nor more false ones. I was a little surprized when I first read Mr. _Philips_'s _5th_Pastoral, (which has the most of a story or Fable of any) how he cameto take the very story which _STRADA_ tell's to show what a Genius_CLAUDIAN_ had. _OVID_'s _Metamorphoses_ is full of such Fairy andRomantick Tales, and he might well enough have given a Description of aBird's contending with a Man for the Prize in Singing, but methinks 'tisnot wholly probable enough for a Fable in Pastoral. Now the Cause of my mentioning this in Mr. _PHILIPS_, is to persuade, ifpossible, those who shall hereafter engage in Pastoral-Writing to trustto their own Genius's. By that means we may hope Pastoral will, oneDay, arrive at it's utmost Perfection, which if Writers pretend to go nofarther than the first who undertook it (I mean _THEOCRITUS_) it nevercan do. For 'tis no one Genius that can bring any Kind of Poetry to it'sgreatest Compleatness. And all know by what slow Steps Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and Comedy arrived at the Perfection they now bear. SECT. _Last_. But now the time of Day drew on, when Cubbin must drive his Heifers toWater. Sophy therefore withdrew, but promised to be there in the Eveningagen. When the Heat of the Day was over, and the Evening Air began to breathin a delightful manner, Sophy accordingly appear'd, and setting him onthe Rushes, that esprouted up by the River side, open'd his Book, andproceeded in the following Manner. _The End of the Third part_. PART IV. CHAP. 1. _Of the Pastoral Language in general_. I must here premise, that I intend not here a full and compleatDiscourse on the Pastoral Language; for that would take up a Volume. ButI would recommend it to some other Hand; for I know nothing that wouldbe more acceptable to the Letter'd World than an Enquiry into the Natureof the _English_ Language. But there is no Dialect or Part of our Language so little understood, as that which relates to Pastoral; nor none (not even the Sublime) sodifficult to write. Of all who have attempted Pastoral in our Tongue, noone (but _SPENCER_) has gone so far as even the weakening and enervatingtheir Dialect; yet after that is perform'd, a Pastoral-Writer has gonebut half way; for after the Strength is taken away, a Tenderness andSimplicity of Expression must supply its Place, or else 'tis only baldand low, instead of Soft and Sweet. _Spencer_'s Language is what supports his Pastorals; for I can maintain, that he has not above one Sentiment in fifteen but is either false, ortaken from the Antients, throughout his Pastorals. The greatestDefect in his Language is it's want of Softness. He has introduced asufficient, or perhaps too great a Number, of Old-Words. But they arepromiscuously used. He took not the Pains to form his Dialect beforehe wrote his Pastorals, by which means he has used more rough and harshOld-Words, than Smooth and Agreeable Ones. They are used where ourcommon Words were infinitely more Soft and Musical. As _What gar's theeGreet?_ For, _What makes thee Grieve?_ How Harsh and Grating is theSound of _SPENCER_'s two Words, But Instances were endless. He is themore blamable, because there are full enough Old-Words to render aDialect Rustick and Uncommon of the most sweet and delightful Soundimaginable. As _ween_ or _weet_, for _think_; _yclepen_, for _call'd_, and the like. These being so tender and soft, render the Language ofPastoral infinitely more tender also, than any common Words, now in use, can do. CHAP. II. _How to attain to the_ Soft _in Writing_. That a Shepherd should talk in a different Dialect from other People, isallow'd by all. That the Pastoral Language should be soft and agreeableis equally past dispute. The only remaining Question then is, what it isthat composes such a Dialect, and how to attain it. In order to compose a Pastoral Dialect entirely perfect; the firstthing, I think, a Writer has to do, is, as we said before, to enervateit and deprive it of all strength. As for the manner of enervating a Language, it must be perform'd by theGenius of the Poet, and not shown by a Critick. However when the Thingis done, 'tis not difficult to see what chiefly effected it. There are, I think, _Cubbin_, two Things that principally enervate your Language. _First_, 'Tis perform'd by throwing out all Words that are _Sonorous_and raise a _Verse_. Mr. _PHILIPS_ comes the nearest to a PastoralLanguage of any English Swain but _Spencer_. And he has truly enervatedhis Language in four several Lines. One of which is the last of thesetwo. _Ye Swains, I beg ye pass in silence by; My Love in yonder Vale asleep doth lye_. The Word Doth, is what enervates the last Line. But 'twould be stillbetter enervated if Mr. _Philips_ had used only such Words as have veryfew Consonants in them. For by Consonants, joyn'd with the Vowel O, aWriter may render his Language, in Epick Poetry, just as Sonorous as hewill; and by the want of Consonants and by delighting in the other softVowels he may render it weak. I cannot see that Mr. _PHILIPS_ has anyLine where the Language is wholly enervated. But see how _Spencer_ hasdone this. Especially in the second of these Lines. _The gentle Shepherd sate beside a Spring. All in the Shadow of a Bushy Breer. &c_. In this last Line, there is but one Word end's with a Consonant, wherethe following Word begin's with one. But a Writer, who is perfectlyMaster of his Language, will be able to have every Line like this; andno Word more strong than Evening, Rivulet, and the like, will he beforc'd to use. _Secondly_, The Language is by nothing more weaken'd, than by the use ofMonisyllables. This no one ever had the least Notion of but _Spencer_. Which I wonder has not been observed, 'tis so very palpable in him. Whatmakes the finess of these Lines else? _All as the Sheep such was the Shepherd's look, For pale and wan he was (alas the while!) May seem he lov'd, or also some Care he took, Well could he tune his Pipe and form his Stile_. Past. 1. Here is but two Words for four Lines, except Monosyllables. The best Lines in _PHILIPS_, for the Language, are these, whereMonosyllables reign. . .. _Fine gain at length, I trow, To hoard up to my self such deal of Woe!_ And the last of these; for the first is rough thro' too many Consonants. _A lewd Desire strange Lands and Swains to know: Ah Gad! that ever I should covet Woe!_ Past. 2. There are other Methods, I see, Cubbin, you have taken to enervate yourLanguage; too minute and too numerous to recite, but they are easily, Ithink, observ'd, if a Person peruses the Pastoral Writers with Care. When our Dialect is thus render'd weak and low, we must then add toit, (in order to render it as pleasant as a Dialect that is not low andmean) Simplicity, Softness and Rusticity. This is perform'd principallyby these three things. By Old-Terms; by Turns of Words, and Phrazes; andby Compound Words. Of all which I shall crave leave to treat distinctly. And first of Ancient Terms. SECT. 2. _Of Old-Words_. When first I look'd into _Chaucer_. I thought him the most dry insipidWriter I ever saw. And there is indeed nothing very valuable in eitherhis Images or Thoughts; but after a Person is accustom'd to his mannerof Writing and his Stile, there is something of Simplicity in his OldLanguage, inimitably sweet and pleasing. If 'tis thus in _Chaucer_, in Pastoral such a Language is vastly more delightful. For we expectsomething very much out of the Way, when we come among Shepherds; andhow can the Language of Shepherds be made to differ from that of otherPersons, if they use not Old-Words? 'Tis very remarkable that all our greatest Poets whose Works willlive to Eternity, have introduced into their Language Old-Words; as_Shakespear_, _Spencer_, _Milton_. _Dryden_ also, whose Genius was muchinferiour to those Writers; has used some few. And _Ben. Johnson_ (tho'he lived at the same time with _Shakespear, Spencer, &c_. ) whose Geniuswas yet meaner than _Dryden_, has not one Old-Word. Ancient Terms were doubtless a great disadvantage, especially to_Spencer_, when his Works appear'd first in the World; but he had a Soullarge enough to write rather for Posterity, than present Applause. He took so excessive a delight in the Old Language of his admired_Chaucer_, that he could not help, in some measure, imitating it. Our greatest Writers having all given into an Ancient Dialect, wouldalmost encline us of the present Age, to think of making theirLanguage a standing Language; for Queen _Elizabeth_'s Age is to us what_Augustus_'s was to the _Latins_; we must never hope to have so manynoble Genius's adorn any one Age for the future; I might have said, anytwenty Ages. Therefore if any _English_ Dialect survives to theWorld's End, 'twill certainly be theirs; and 'twill be prudence in anyAfter-writer to draw his Language as near to theirs as possible; that iftheirs are understood a thousand Years hence, his may too. But to leave the Consideration of Old-Words in Epick Poetry and Tragedy, let us proceed to Pastoral. There are several Advantages flow from theUse of Old-Words, but I have time to mention but two or three. There is a Spirit and a Liveliness of Expression to be preserv'd inPastoral as well as other Poetry; now I affirm that 'tis impossibleto perform this without Old-Words; unless a Writer make Shepherds talkSublimely, and with Passion, as in Tragedies. Again, if a Writer has a Genius for Pastoral he will have some Thoughtsoccur so inimitably Simple, that they would appear ridiculous in theCommon Language; and 'tis necessary that the Language should answer tothe Thought. These are the finest Thoughts of all for pastoral. There are also several Thoughts which, tho' extreamly agreeable tothe simple Innocence of young Country Girls, will appear too luscious, unless the Simplicity and Rusticity of the Speaker appear's, by theOld Language spoken. But we smile at a Thought in such simple Language, which perhaps we shall nauseate in a polite Dialect. But one of the greatest Advantages of Old-Words, is, that they affordthe Writer so fine an Opportunity of rendring his Language mostinimitably soft and smooth. This cannot be done by any other Means; andhow proper soft and simple Language is to Pastoral (at least wherethe Characters are Young, Tender, and Innocent) I need not say. As forVIRGIL and those Pastoral Writers who seem not to aim at Simplicityin either their Characters or Sentiments, the using of Old-Words isentirely different with regard to them. To see a Sentiment, which wouldas well become any other Person as a Shepherd, dress'd in the Simplicityof an Ancient Dialect, would appear nothing but Affectation. We areused to see such Sentiments in another Dress. Nay, were their ThoughtsSimple, 'twould not be agreeable for them to use Old-Words, unless thewhole Turn of their Language was answerable to it; to have a common, ordinary Language, with Old-Words scatter'd through it, is a mixtconfused Language, and what is very expressively named by our WordHodge-podge. 'Tis not enough therefore, for the forming a pastoralLanguage to use Old-Words; a Writer must set down, and by true Pains andIndustry constitute a Language entirely of a piece and consistant;in performing which the choicest Old-Words will be of some littleAssistance. If I might advise you, Cubbin, I would have you always write Pastoralsin either such a Language as this, entirely uniform and of a piece, orelse to write in a strong polite Language. Never write any single thingin a low and mean Language. Polite Language is only faulty with respectto it's being in Pastoral; but low Language is in it's own Naturefaulty. The first is only unnatural; the latter is stupid and dull. Therefore unless you resolve to go quite thro', never weaken or enervateyour Pastoral Language at all. Unless you resolve to add Simplicityand Softness, to supply the place of Strength, never rob it of it'sStrength. It had better have strength and Sprightliness and Politenessthan Nothing. The best Way is that which Sir _Philip Sidney_ has taken, to supposeyour Swains to live in the _Golden-Age_, and to be above the ordinaryDegree of Shepherds, for Kings Sons and Daughters, were then ofthat Employ. And upon this Supposition to make 'em talk in a polite, delightful and refined Dialect. By this Means you will disable theCriticks at once. But perhaps some may expect that I should vindicate the Use ofOld-Words, on my own Account. But for that Reason I am the more carelessin touching the Subject; because I would leave the World to a free andunbias'd Judgment of what I have done. Nor is this an Age, indeed, tobegin to vindicate Old-Words in. The Method has been approv'd of in allAges even in Epick Poetry and Tragedy, and should we go now to defend itin Pastoral? A Friend indeed of _SPENCER_'s wrote a Vindication of hisOld-Words, but had _SPENCER_ been living be would doubtless have beenashamed of it's appearing in the World. 'Tis the Opinion of the bestJudges that the Old-Words used by Mr. _Row_, even In the Tragedy of_JANE SHORE_ are a great Beauty to that Piece. And those who haveobjected against _SALLUST_ for affecting Old-Words, have made nothingout. Tho' History is to deliver plainly Matters of Fact, and not toflourish, and beautify it's self with foreign Ornaments, as Poetry is. There are not so many disapprove of _SALLUST_'s Old-Words, as commendhim for adding a Majesty and Solemness to his Writings thereby. I might add (were there occasion for vindicating Old-Words) that wehave render'd our _English_ Language unexpressive and bare of Words, bythrowing out several useful Old-Words; as _Freundina_ a _She-Friend_;_Theowin_ a _She-Servant_, &c. But as no one has shewn Old-Words tobe faulty, for so many hundred Years, 'twould be folly to trouble theReader with a Vindication of 'em, at this Day. The only Question is, whether an Author has chose the Softest and Finest; or has shown by hisChoice the weakness of his Judgment. SECT. 3. _Of Compound Words_. Another thing which occasions Softness in the Pastoral Language, ifrightly managed, is the use of Compound Words. But there is nothingrequires a greater Genius than to form Beautiful Compound Words in EpickPoetry, or more Exactness and Labour in Pastoral. In Epick Poetry 'tisabsurd to make a Compound Word, unless it helps forward the Sence; andin Pastory, it must add to the Softness of the Dialect, and in somemeasure assist the Thought, yet it need not do it so much as in EpickPoetry; where a Writer of Genius will form such Compound Words as willeach contain as much as a whole Line. As may be seen in _Homer_, andthe _Greek_ Poets, especially. Among the _English_, _Milton_'s are oftenvery fine. _Brandish'd aloft the horrid Edge came down, Wide-wasting_. The Compound Words, in Pastory, must be so easy and natural, as scarceto be observ'd from the other Language. They must run easy and smooth, and glide off the Tongue, and that will occasion their not beingobserv'd in the reading. A Pastoral Writer will often be able, if he gives an Image in oneLine, by a Compound Word in that Line to give another Image, oranother Thought as full and as fine an one as that which the wholeLine contains. But as this and the like Observations cannot bewell understood without Instances quoted, I shall leave 'em to theObservation of those who intend to engage in Pastoral Writing; for thatand nothing else, will put 'em upon a thorough Search into the Springsand Rules by which all former Pastoral Writers have excell'd. SECT. 4. _Of Turns of Words and Phrazes_. Another help to Softness, and the very greatest Beauty of all in thePastoral Language, is, a handsome use of Phrazes. This must dependentirely on the Genius of the Writers, for there is no one Rule can begiven for the attaining thereto. A Person who writes now may imitate_Ovid_ and _Spencer_ in this particular (if he can submit his Fancyto Imitation) and that is all the Assistance he can have. As forrural Phrazes, there are not above half a dozen in all the Counties orDialects that I am acquainted with. All that we can do on this Head, is to leave the Reader to Observation. For I confess that I do not so much as know how I came by those fewI myself have, farther than that by use and practising in an UncommonDialect, I happen'd on 'em at Unawares. However I may quote those which are the very finest of any in _Spencer_. Who is the only Writer in our Language that ever attempted tenderPhrazes or Turns of Words. Yet there are two such Passages in _Creech_'s_Theocritus_, which I will also quote. _All as the Sheep, such was the Shepherd's Look; For pale and wan he was (alas the while!)_ &c. And again. _Ye Gods of Love, who pity Lover's Pain. (If any Gods the Pain of Lovers pity)_ &c. And again. _A simple Shepherd Born in_ Arcady, _Of gentlest Blood that ever Shepherd bore_, &c. Such beautiful Turns of Words as these are extremely scarce in_Spencer_; but he has not one but what is inimitably fine and natural. Let us now see the two Phrazes which _Creech_ has happen'd upon. Whose Language I have observ'd to be infinitely the best of any of ourPastoral writers, next to Spencer. This is one of them. A Shepherdesssays to a persuading Swain. _You will deceive, you Men are all Deceit; And we so willing to believe the Cheat_. The other is this, to Diana; when she consents. _I liv'd your Vot'ry, but no more can live_. CHAP. III. _The Tender in Pastory distinguish'd from that in Epick poetry orTragedy_. 'Tis strange to me that our Pastoral Writers should make no Distinctionbetween their SOFT when they write Pastories, and when they write EpickPoetry. This in _Philips_ is the Epick Softness, or what we call theBeautiful sometimes in Epick Poetry in Opposition to the Sublime. _Breath soft ye Winds, ye Waters gently flow; Shield her ye Trees, ye Flow'rs around her grow_, &c. And this which also is the Sixth Pastory. _Once_ Delia _lay, on easy Moss reclin'd, Her lovely Limbs half bare, and rude the Wind_, &c. This also is of the same kind of SOFT. _A Girland deckt in all the Pride of May, Sweet as her Breath, and as her Beauty Gay_, &c. But Instances were endless. In Opposition to this kind of Soft, I shallquote out of _Spencer_ some Passages which have the truest Softness. For such that Author has, beyond any in the World, tho' perhaps not veryoften. He begins his last Pastory thus. _A gentle Shepherd sate besides a Spring, All in the shadow of a bushy Breer_, &c. And his first he begins thus. _A Shepherd's Boy (no better do him call)_ &c. His Pastoral named _Colin Clout's come home_, begins thus. _The Shepherd-boy (best known by that Name) Who after TITYRUS first sang his Lay, Lays of sweet Love, without Rebuke or Blow, Sate, as his manner was, upon a Day_, &c. These Lines of _Spencer_ and those of _Philips_, both contain agreeableImages and Thoughts, yet are they as different as _Milton_ and_D'Urfey_. I shall only make one Observation on this difference. Namely, that inthe soft and beautiful Lines of _Philips_, each Word, only signifies asoft and beautiful Idea; As _Breath, Waters, Flow, Gently, Soft_, &c. But in _Spencer_ the sound also is soft. Had such an Author dress'd thisinimitable Thought of _Philips_, the Line would have glided as smoothand easy off the Tongue, as the Waters he mentions, do along theMeadows. SECT. II. _That no Language is so fit for Pastoral as the English_. I have before observed, that this softness is effected, among otherthings by little Words; yet I cannot help observing here, that ourLanguage is infinitely the finest of any in the World for Pastoral, andit's abounding so much in little Words is one Reason of it. The Pompsand Stateliness of the Latin Lines could not have been made proper forPastoral, unless entirely alter'd, and 'tis not likely that a Geniusdaring enough to do that would engage in Pastoral. The _Romans_ had not a Particle, as we have, before their_Substantives_; As _A_ and _The Tree_. Seldom used a Word before theVerbs; as _He goes_, _They go_. Nor had they our _Doth_ and _Does_;without which no _Englishman_ could form a Pastoral Language. As thesweet Simplicity of that Line, I have just quoted, is occasion'd bynothing else. _A Shepherd-boy (no better do him call_. ) The _Greek_ Language was greatly more fit for Pastoral than the _Latin_. Among other Reasons, because the former had so many Particles; and couldrender their Language uncommon, by their different Dialects, and bytheir various Methods of changing, and of compounding Words. Which noLanguage will admit of in an equal degree, besides the _English_. Butthen the _Greek_ Language is too sonorous for Pastoral. Give me leave toshow the inimitable softness and sweetness of the _English_ Tongue, onlyby instancing in one Word. Which will also show how copious a Languageours is. I know but three Words the _Greeks_ had to express the Word Lador Swain by: [Greek: Agrikôs, Poimruos; and Bôkolos]; and how sonorousare they all. We have six; Swain, Boy, Shepherd, Youth, Stripling, Lad;and how inimitably soft is the sound of 'em all. _Theocritus_ has more Turns of Words or Phrazes than _Spencer_; yet hecould in none of 'em come up to _Spencer_'s smoothness and simplicityin his Numbers. As I quoted only the Phrazes of my Country-men In theChapter on that Head; I will here put down the finest in Theocritus, tho' I cannot say indeed that he has any but in his first Pastoral. [Greek: Archete boukolikas Moisai philai harchet haoithas. Thursis hodhôx Ahitnas, kai Thursidos adea phôna. Pa pok had êsth, oka Daphnisetaketo, pa poka Numphai;] The finest of these Lines (and the softest but one that I remember thro'all his Pieces) is the middle one; it is most incorrigibly translatedby _Creech_: tho' I blame him not for it, because of the difficulty ofinventing fine Phrazes, much more of translating those of other Men, into Rhime; for which Reason _Creech_ has not attempted to give us anyof _Theocritus_'s Turns of Words. CHAP. IV. _That there may be several sorts of Pastorals_. To conclude this Essay, as there are Tempers and Genius's of all sorts, so perhaps it may not be amiss to allow Writings of all sorts too. Ithink every Person's Aim should be to be subserving as much as possible, to the Delight and Amusement of his Fellow-Creatures. And if any cantake pleasure in what is really not pleasant, 'tis pity, methinks, torob 'em of it. Yet if there is in nature a Method which pursued will bestill more delightful, the Critick is to be observed who points out theWay thereto. If any of my Countrymen therefore can take delight from reading thePastorals of _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_, or any of those who haveimitated those two Ancients, I shall be ready to allow that there maybe several sorts of Pastorals. 'Tis certain that _Milton_ and _Homer_, (thro' the Scene of the Former lying about the Sphere of Men) are asdifferent as _East_ from _West_, yet both excellent. Tragedy hasas different sorts as Epick-Poetry; Nor are _Julius Caesar_ and the_Orphan_ of the same Nature. The same difference in Tragedy, is betweenall those, whose Chief CHARACTER is a Hero, and those that draw aFemale, as _Jane Shore_, the Lady _Jane Gray_, _and the like_, are to meentirely different from _Shakespear's_, not respecting the Excellency of'em. _Shakespear_ having a Genius made for the Sublime, and perhaps Mr. _Row_ rather for the Soft and Tender; as appears in two Passages at theEnd of _JANE SHORE_. Which in my Judgment are not much excell'd by even_Otway_ himself. Since I have mention'd that Author, I can't help remarking how difficulta thing it is for any Person to know what his own Genius is fittest for;and how great a Chance it is whether ever a Writer comes to know it. Tho' _Otway_ had so fine a Genius for the TENDER, it never appear'd tilla little before he dyed. Thro' all his Plays we cannot trace eventhe least Glimpse of it, till his two last, _The Orphan_ and _VenicePreserv'd_. But we run the Digression too far. SECT. 2. _What Kind of Pastorals would please most Universally; and delight thegreatest Number of Readers_. For my own Part, as I said, I could be delighted with any Kind ofPastoral, if the Writer would but be at the Pains of selecting themost beautiful Images, and tenderest Thoughts. This is the first andprincipal Matter. Yet this might be perform'd by a moderate Capacity, without a Genius born for Tragedy. Would a Person but form a delightful Story, invent new and uncommon andpleasing Characters, and furnish his Mind with a small Number of fineImages from the Country, before he sate down to write his Pieces, Hewould not fail of Success. But if Writers will only put down a parcelof common triffling Thoughts from _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_, nor will somuch as aim at any thing themselves, can you blame me Cubbin, if I throw'em aside. Let 'em have a thousand Faults, I can be pleas'd by 'em, if they have but Beauties with 'em; nor will you ever hear me blame_Shakespear_ for his Irregularity. And Pastoral is delightful to me init's own Nature, that were these Authors to employ but my Mind in anymanner, I should have Patience to peruse 'em. But if these Authors were unwilling to be at the Pains of forming apleasant Story themselves, they might go upon little Tales alreadyknown, such as, _The Two Children in the Wood_, and a thousand othersinimitably pretty and delightful. And had we a Set of such Pastorals as these, I am satisfied they wouldtake extreamly. More Cubbin, perhaps than yours ever will; becauseperfect Pastories are directed only to Persons of Reading and Judgment. But you cannot I suppose satisfie your own Mind, unless you write up towhat you judge the Standard of Perfection in every sort of Writing. _FINIS_. _Notes on the Text_. It was impractical to issue Purney's _Enquiry_ in facsimile becauseof the blurred condition of the photostats. This reprint follows theoriginal text faithfully, with the following exceptions: the long"s" and the double "v" are modernized; small capitals, which appearfrequently in the 1717 version, are reduced to lower-case letters; a fewvery slight typographical errors have been silently corrected. On page40, line 1, _thoroughly_ reads _throughly_ in the original; and thethree lines of Greek on p. 70, somewhat garbled in the original, aregiven in corrected form. ANNOUNCING THE Publications OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY _General Editors_ RICHARD C. BOYS EDWARD NILES HOOKER H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR. _THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY_ MAKES AVAILABLE _Inexpensive Reprintsof Rare Materials_ FROM ENGLISH LITERATURE OF THE SEVENTEENTH ANDEIGHTEENTH CENTURIES Students, scholars, and bibliographers of literature, history, and philology will find the publications valuable. _The Johnsonian News Letter_ has said of them: "Excellent facsimiles, and cheap in price, these represent the triumph of modern scientific reproduction. Be sure to become a subscriber; and take it upon yourself to see that your college library is on the mailing list. " The Augustan Reprint Society is a non-profit, scholarly organization, run without overhead expense. By careful management it is able to offer at least six publications each year at the unusually low membership fee of $2. 50 per year in the United States and Canada, and $2. 75 in Great Britain and the continent. Libraries as well as individuals are eligible for membership. Since the publications are issued without profit, however, no discount can be allowed to libraries, agents, or booksellers. New members may still obtain a complete run of the first year's publications for $2. 50, the annual membership fee. During the first two years the publications are issued in three series: I. Essays on Wit; II. Essays on Poetry and Language; and III. Essays on the Stage. _PUBLICATIONS FOR THE FIRST YEAR (1946-1947)_ MAY, 1946: Series I, No. 1--Richard, Blackmore's _Essay upon Wit_ (1716), and Addison's _Freeholder_ No. 45 (1716). JULY, 1946: Series II, No. 1--Samuel Cobb's _Of Poetry_ and _Discourse on Criticism_ (1707). SEPT. , 1946: Series III, No. 1--Anon. , _Letter to A. H. Esq. ; concerning the Stage_ (1698), and Richard Willis' _Occasional Paper_ No. IX (1698). Nov. , 1946: Series I, No. 2--Anon. , _Essay on Wit_ (1748), together with Characters by Flecknoe, and Joseph Warton's _Adventurer_ Nos. 127 and 133. JAN. , 1947: Series II, No. 2--Samuel Wesley's _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700) and _Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693). MARCH, 1947: Series III, No. 2--Anon. , _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_ (1704) and anon. , Some _Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704). _PUBLICATIONS FOR THE SECOND YEAR (1947-1948)_ MAY, 1947: Series I, No. 3--John Gay's _The Present State of Wit_; and a section on Wit from _The English Theophrastus_. With an Introduction by Donald Bond. JULY, 1947: Series II, No. 3--Rapin's _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech. With an Introduction by J. E. Congleton. SEPT. , 1947: Series III, No. 3--T. Hanmer's (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_. With an Introduction by Clarence D. Thorpe. Nov. , 1947: Series I, No. 4--Corbyn Morris' _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc_. With an Introduction by James L. Clifford. JAN. , 1948: Series II, No. 4--Thomas Purney's _Discourse on the Pastoral_. With an Introduction by Earl Wasserman. MARCH, 1948: Series III, No. 4--Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood Krutch. The list of publications is subject to modification in response to requests by members. From time to time Bibliographical Notes will be included in the issues. Each issue contains an Introduction by a scholar of special competence in the field represented. The Augustan Reprints are available only to members. They will never be offered at "remainder" prices. _GENERAL EDITORS_ RICHARD C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_ EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_ H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR. , _University of California, Los Angeles_ _ADVISORY EDITORS_ EMMET L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_ LOUIS I. BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_ BENJAMIN BOYCE, _University of Nebraska_ CLEANTH BROOKS, _Louisiana State University_ JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_ ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_ SAMUEL L. MONK, _University of Minnesota_ JAMES SUTHERLAND, _Queen Mary College, London_ * * * * * Address communications to any of the General Editors. British andContinental subscriptions should be sent to B. H. Blackwell Broad Street Oxford, England * * * * * _Please enroll me as a member of the Augustan Reprint Society_. _I enclose the membership fee for the second year_ (1947-1948). _the first and second year_ (1946-1948). NAME. .. .. .. Address. .. .