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reader of Mr. Addison would pronounce in the cafe, I can undertake to give him fatisfaction. Speaking of what Mr. Dryden calls, the Faery way of writing, "Men of cold fancies and philofophical difpofitions," fays he, "object to this kind of poetry, that it has not probability enough to affect the imagination. But-many are prepoffeffed with fuch falfe opinions, as difpofe them to believe thefe particular delufions; at leaft, we have all heard fo many pleafing relations in favour of them, that we do not care for feeing through the falfhood, and willingly give ourselves up to fo agreeable an impofture." Spectator, Vol. vi. Apply, now, this fage judgement of Mr. Addison to Taffo's Enchantments, and you fee that a falfhood convict is not to be pleaded against a fuppofed belief, or even the flightest hear-fay. So little account does this wicked poetry make of philofophical or hiftorical truth: All the allows us to look for, is poetical truth; a very flender thing indeed, and which the poet's eye, when rolling its finest frenzy, can but juft lay hold of. To fpeak in the philofophick language of Mr. Hobbes, It is fomething much beyond the actual bounds, and only within the conceived poffibility, of nature.

But the fource of bad criticism, as universally of bad philofophy, is the abufe of terms. A poet, they fay, muft follow Nature; and by Nature we are to fuppofe can only be meant the known and experienced courfe of affairs in this world. Whereas the poet has a world of his own, where experience has lefs to do, than confiftent imagination.

He has, befides, a fupernatural world to range in. He has Gods, and Faeries, and Witches, at his command: And,

"O! who can tell

"The hidden pow'r of herbes, and might of magick Spenfer, F. Q. B. i. C. 2.

"fpell ?"

Thus, in the poet's world, all is marvellous and extraordinary; yet not unnatural in one fenfe, as it agrees to the conceptions that are readily entertained of thefe magical and wonder-working Na

tures.

This trite maxim of following Nature is further mistaken in applying it indifcriminately to all forts of poetry.

In thofe fpecies which have men and manners profeffedly for their theme, a ftrict conformity with human nature is reasonably demanded.

"Non hic Centauros, non Gorgonas, Harpyafque
"Invenies: hominem pagina noftra fapit :"

is a proper motto to a book of Epigrams, but would make a poor figure at the head of an epick poem.

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Still further, in thofe fpecies that addrefs themfelves to the heart and would obtain their end, not through the Imagination, but through the Paffions, there the liberty of tranfgreffing nature, I mean the real powers and properties of human nature, is infinitely restrained; and poetical truth is, under thefe circumftances, almoft as fevere a thing as historical. The reafon is, we muft firft believe, before we can be affected. But the cafe is different with the more fublime and creative poetry. This fpecies, addreffing itfelf folely or principally to the Imagination; a young and credulous faculty, which loves to admire and to be deceived; has no need to obferve those cautious rules of credibility fo neceffary to be followed by him, who would touch the affections and intereft the heart.

. This difference, it will be faid, is obvious enough. How came it then to be overlooked? From another

mistake, in extending a particular precept of the drama into a general maxim.

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The incredulus odi of Horace ran in the heads of thefe criticks, though his own words confine the obfervation fingly to the stage:

"Segnius irritant animos demiffa per aurem

"Quam quæ funt oculis fubjecta fidelibus, et quæ
"Ipfe fibi tradit Spectator"

That, which paffes in representation, and challenges, as it were, the fcrutiny of the eye, muft be truth itself, or fomething very nearly approaching to it. But what paffes in narration, even on the ftage, is admitted without much difficulty—

"multaque tolles

"Ex oculis, quæ mox narret facundia præfens."

In the epick narration, which may be called abfens facundia, the reafon of the thing fhows this indulgence to be ftill greater. It appeals neither to the eye nor the ear, but fimply to the imagination, and fo allows the poet a liberty of multiplying and enlarging his impoftures at pleafure, in proportion to the eafinefs and comprehenfion of that faculty.

Thefe general reflexions hardly require an application to the present subject. The tales of Faery are exploded, as fantastick and incredible. They would merit this contempt, if prefented on the ftage; I mean, if they were given as the proper fubject of dramatick imitation, and the intereft of the poet's plot were to be wrought out of the adventures of these marvellous perfons. But the epick mufe runs no rifque in giving way to fuch fanciful exhibitions.

You may call them, as one does, "extraordinary dreams, fuch as excellent poets and painters,

by being over ftudious, may have in the beginning of fevers."

The epick poet would acknowledge the charge, and even value himself upon it. He would fay, "I leave to the fage dramatift the merit of being always broad awake, and always in his fenfes: The divine dream, and delirious fancy, are among the noblest of my prerogatives."

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But the injuftice done the Italian poets does not ftop here. The cry is, “Magick and enchantments are fenfeless things. Therefore the Italian poets are not worth the reading." As if, because the fuperftitions of Homer and Virgil are no longer believed, their poems, which abound in them, are good for nothing.

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Yes, it will be faid, their fine pictures of life and manners. And may not I fay the time, in behalf of Ariofto and Taffo? For it is not true that all is unnatural and monftrous in their poems, because of this mixture of the wonderful. Admit, for example, Armida's marvellous conveyance to the happy Ifland, and all the reft of the love-story is as natural, that is, as fuitable to our common notions of that paffion, as any thing in Virgil or (if you will) Voltaire.

Thus we fee the apology of the Italian poets is eafily made on every fuppofition. But I ftick to my point and maintain that the faery tales of Taffo do him more honour than what are called the more natural, that is, the claffical parts of his poem. His imitations of the ancients have indeed their merit; for he was a genius in every thing. But they are faint and cold and almoft infipid, when compared with his original fictions. We make a

h Sir W. Davenant's Preface. HURD.
1ño "Oveç☺, Homer. HÚRD.

fhift to run over the paffages he has copied from. Virgil. We are all on fire amidft the magical feats of Itmen, and the enchantments of Armida :

Magnanima menfogna, hor quando è il vero "Si bello, che fi poffa à te preporre ?"

I fpeak at least for myself; and muft freely own, if it were not for thefe lyes of Gothick invention, I fhould fcarcely be difpofed to give the Gierufalemme Liberata a fecond reading.

I readily agree to the lively obfervation, "That impenetrable armour, enchanted caftles, invulnerable bodies, iron men, flying horfes, and other fuch things, are eafily feigned by them that dare. But, with the obferver's leave, not fo feigned as we find them in the Italian poets, unless the writer have another quality, befides that of courage.

One thing is true, that the fuccefs of thefe fictions will not be great, when they have no longer any footing in the popular belief: And the reafon is, that readers do not ufually do, as they ought;. put themfelves in the circumstances of the poet, or rather of thofe, of whom the poet writes. But this only shows, that fome ages are not fo fit to write epick poems in, as others; not, that they fhould be otherwife written. It is alfo true, that writers do not fucceed fo well in painting what they have heard, as what they believe themfelves, or at least obferve in others a facility of believing. And on this account I would advife no modern poet to revive these faery tales in an epick poem. But ftill this is nothing to the cafe in hand, where we are confidering the merit of epick poems, written under other circumstances.

k Mr. Hobbes's Letter. HURD.

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