John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  Yet in this Frugality of your Praises, there are some Things which I cannot omit, without detracting from your Character. You have so form’d your own Education, as enables you to pay the Debt you owe your Country, or, more properly speaking, both your Countries: Because you were born, I may almost say in Purple at the Castle of Dublin, when your Grandfather was Lord-Lieutenant, and have since been bred in the Court of England. 12

  If this Address had been in Verse, I might have call’d you, as Claudian calls Mercury, Numen commune, Gemino faciens commercia mundo. The better to satisfy this double Obligation, you have early cultivated the Genius you have to Arms, that when the service of Britain or Ireland shall require your Courage and your Conduct, you may exert them both to the Benefit of either Country. You began in the Cabinet what you afterwards practis’d in the Camp; and thus both Lucullus and Cæsar (to omit a crowd of shining Romans) form’d them selves to the War by the Study of History, and by the examples of the greatest Captains, both of Greece and Italy, before their time. I name those two Commanders in particular, because they were better read in Chronicle than any of the Roman Leaders; and that Lucullus in particular, having only the Theory of War from Books, was thought fit, without Practice, to be sent into the Field against the most formidable Enemy of Rome. Tully indeed was call’d the learn’d Consul in derision; but then, he was not born a Soldier: His Head was turn’d another way: When he read the Tactics, he was thinking on the Bar, which was his Field of Battle. The Knowledge of Warfare is thrown away on a General who dares not make use of what he knows. I commend it only in a Man of Courage and of Resolution: in him it will direct his Martial Spirit, and teach him the way to the best Victories, which are those that are least bloody, and which, tho’ atchieved by the Hand, are managed by the Head. Science distinguishes a Man of Honour from one of those Athletick Brutes whom undeservedly we call Heroes. Curs’d be the Poet, who first honour’d with that Name a meer Ajax, a Man-killing Ideot. The Ulysses of Ovid upbraids his Ignorance, that he understood not the Shield for which he pleaded: There was engraven on it, Plans of Cities, and Maps of Countries, which Ajax could not comprehend, but look’d on them as stupidly as his Fellow-Beast the Lion. But on the other side, your Grace has given your self the Education of his Rival; you have studied every Spot of Ground in Flanders, which for these ten Years past has been the Scene of Battles and of Sieges. No wonder if you perform’d your part with such Applause on a Theater which you understood so well. 13

  If I design’d this for a Poetical Encomium, it were easy to enlarge on so copious a Subject; but confining my self to the Severity of Truth, and to what is becoming me to say, I must not only pass over many Instances of your Military Skill, but also those of your assiduous Diligence in the War, and of your personal bravery, attended with an ardent Thirst of Honour; a long train of Generosity; Profuseness of doing Good; a Soul unsatisfy’d with all it has done; and an unextinguish’d Desire of doing more. But all this is Matter for your own Historians; I am, as Virgil says, Spatiis exclusus iniquis. 14

  Yet not to be wholly silent of all your Charities, I must stay a little on one Action, which preferr’d the Relief of Others, to the Consideration of your Self. When, in the Battle of Landen, your Heat of Courage (a Fault only pardonable to your Youth) had transported you so far before your Friends, that they were unable to follow, much less to succour you; when you were not only dangerously, but in all appearance mortally wounded; when in that desperate Condition you were made Prisoner, and carried to Namur, at that time in Possession of the French; then it was, my Lord, that you took a considerable Part of what was remitted to you of your own Revenues, and as a memorable Instance of your Heroick Charity, put it into the Hands of Count Guiscard, who was Governor of the Place, to be distributed among your Fellow-Prisoners. The French Commander, charm’d with the greatness of your Soul, accordingly consign’d it to the Use for which it was intended by the Donor: By which means the Lives of so many miserable Men were sav’d, and a comfortable Provision made for their Subsistance, who had otherwise perish’d, had not you been the Companion of their Misfortune: or rather sent by Providence, like another Joseph, to keep out Famine from invading those, whom in Humility you called your Brethren. How happy was it for those poor Creatures that your Grace was made their Fellow-Sufferer? And how glorious for You, that you chose to want, rather than not relieve the Wants of others? The Heathen Poet, in commending the charity of Dido to the Trojans, spoke like a Christian: Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco. All men, even those of a different Interest, and contrary Principles, must praise this Action, as the most eminent for Piety, not only in this degenerate Age, but almost in any of the former; when Men were made de meliore luto; when Examples of Charity were frequent, and when there were in being, Teucri, pulcherrima proles, Magnanimi heroes, nati melioribus annis. No Envy can detract from this: it will shine in History; and like Swans, grow whiter the longer it endures: and the Name of ORMOND will be more celebrated in his Captivity than in his greatest Triumphs. 15

  But all Actions of your Grace are of a piece; as Waters keep the Tenour of their Fountains: your Compassion is general, and has the same Effect as well on Enemies as Friends. ’Tis so much in your Nature to do Good, that your Life is but one continued Act of placing Benefits on many, as the Sun is always carrying his Light to some Part or other of the World: And were it not that your Reason guides you where to give, I might almost say that you could not help bestowing more, than is consisting with the Fortune of a private Man, or with the Will of any but an Alexander. 16

  What Wonder is it then, that being born for a Blessing to Mankind, your suppos’d Death in that Engagement, was so generally lamented through the Nation? The Concernment for it was as universal as the Loss: And though the Gratitude might be counterfeit in some; yet the Tears of all were real: Where every man deplor’d his private Part in that Calamity, and even those who had not tasted of your Favours, yet built so much on the Fame of your Beneficence, that they bemoan’d the Loss of their Expectations. 17

  This brought the untimely Death of your Great Father into fresh remembrance; as if the same Decree had pass’d on two short successive Generations of the Virtuous; and I repeated to my self the same Verses, which I had formerly apply’d to him: Ostendunt terris hunc tantum fata, nec ultra Esse sinunt. 18

  But to the Joy not only of all good Men, but of Mankind in general, the unhappy Omen took not place. You are still living to enjoy the Blessings and Applause of all the Good you have perform’d, the Prayers of Multitudes whom you have oblig’d, for your long Prosperity, and that your Power of doing generous and charitable Actions may be as extended as your Will; which is by none more zealously desir’d than by

  Your Grace’s most humble,

  most oblig’d, and most

  obedient servant,

  JOHN DRYDEN. 19

  Fables Ancient and Modern: Preface

  ‘TIS with a Poet as with a Man who designs to build, and is very exact, as he supposes, in casting up the Cost beforehand: But, generally speaking, he is mistaken in his Account, and reckons short of the Expense he first intended: He alters his Mind as the Work proceeds, and will have this or that Convenience more, of which he had not thought when he began. So has it hapned to me; I have built a House, where I intended but a Lodge: Yet with better Success than a certain Nobleman, who, beginning with a Dog-kennil never liv’d to finish the Palace he had contriv’d. 20

  From translating the First of Homer’s Iliads (which I intended as an Essay to the whole Work) I proceeded to the Translation of the Twelfth Book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, because it contains, among other Things, the Causes, the Beginning, and Ending of the Trojan War: Here I ought in reason to have stopp’d; but the speeches of Ajax and Ulysses lying next in my way, I could not balk ‘em. When I had compass’d them, I was so taken with the former Part of the Fifteenth Book (which is the Master-piece of the whole Metamorphoses) that I enjoyn’d myself the pleasing Task of rendring it into English. And now I found by the Nu
mber of my Verses, that they began to swell into a little Volume; which gave me an Occasion of looking backward on some Beauties of my Author, in his former Books: There occur’d to me the Hunting of the Boar, Cinyras and Myrrha, the good-natured story of Baucis and Philemon, with the rest, which I hope I have translated closely enough, and given them the same Turn of Verse which they had in the Original; and this, I may say without vanity, is not the Talent of every Poet: He who has arriv’d the nearest to it is the Ingenious and Learned Sandys, the best Versifier of the former Age; if I may properly call it by that Name, which was the former Part of this concluding Century. For Spenser and Fairfax both flourished in the reign of Queen Elizabeth; Great Masters in our Language; and who saw much farther into the Beauties of our Numbers, than those who immediately followed them. Milton was the Poetical son of Spencer, and Mr. Waller of Fairfax; for we have our Lineal Descents and Clans, as well as other Families: Spencer more than once insinuates, that the Soul of Chaucer was transfus’d into his Body; and that he was begotten by him Two hundred years after his Decease. Milton has acknowledg’d to me, that Spencer was his Original; and many besides my self have heard our famous Waller own, that he deriv’d the Harmony of his Numbers from the Godfrey of Bulloign, which was turned into English by Mr. Fairfax. But to return: Having done with Ovid for this time, it came into my mind, that our old English poet, Chaucer, in many Things resembled him, and that with no disadvantage on the Side of the Modern Author, as I shall endeavour to prove when I compare them: And as I am, and always have been, studious to promote the Honour of my Native Country, so I soon resolved to put their Merits to the Trial, by turning some of the Canterbury Tales into our Language, as it is now refin’d: For by this means, both the Poets being set in the same light, and dress’d in the same English Habit, Story to be compared with Story, a certain Judgment may be made betwixt them by the Reader, without obtruding my Opinion on him: Or if I seem partial to my Country-man and Predecessor in the Laurel, the Friends of Antiquity are not few: And besides many of the Learn’d, Ovid has almost all the Beaux, and the whole Fair Sex, his declar’d Patrons. Perhaps I have assum’d somewhat more to my self than they allow me; because I have adventur’d to sum up the Evidence: But the Readers are the Jury; and their Privilege remains entire to decide according to the Merits of the Cause: Or, if they please to bring it to another Hearing before some other Court. In the mean time, to follow the Thrid of my Discourse (as Thoughts, according to Mr. Hobbs, have always some Connexion), so from Chaucer I was led to think on Boccace, who was not only his Contemporary, but also pursu’d the same Studies; wrote Novels in Prose, and many Works in Verse; particularly is said to have invented the Octave Rhyme, or Stanza of Eight Lines, which ever since has been maintain’d by the Practice of all Italian Writers, who are, or at least assume the Title of, Heroick Poets: He and Chaucer, among other Things, had this in common, that they refin’d their Mother-Tongues; but with this difference, that Dante had begun to file their Language, at least in Verse, before the time of Boccace, who likewise receiv’d no little Help from his Master Petrarch: But the Reformation of their Prose was wholly owing to Boccace himself, who is yet the Standard of Purity in the Italian Tongue; though many of his Phrases are become obsolete, as in process of Time it must needs happen. Chaucer (as you have formerly been told by our learn’d Mr. Rhymer) first adorn’d and amplified our barren Tongue from the Provencall, which was then the most polish’d of all the Modern Languages: But this Subject has been copiously treated by that great Critick, who deserves no little Commendation from us his Countrymen. For these Reasons of Time and Resemblance of Genius in Chaucer and Boccace, I resolv’d to join them in my present Work; to which I have added some Original Papers of my own, which whether they are equal or inferiour to my other Poems, an Author is the most improper Judge; and therefore I leave them wholly to the Mercy of the Reader: I will hope the best, that they will not be condemn’d; but if they should, I have the Excuse of an old Gentleman, who mounting on Horseback before some Ladies, when I was present, got up somewhat heavily, but desir’d of the Fair Spectators that they would count Fourscore and eight before they judg’d him. By the Mercy of God, I am already come within Twenty Years of his Number, a Cripple in my Limbs; but what Decays are in my Mind, the Reader must determine. I think my self as vigorous as ever in the Faculties of my Soul, excepting only my Memory, which is not impair’d to any great degree; and if I lose not more of it, I have no great reason to complain. What Judgment I had increases rather than diminishes: and Thoughts, such as they are, come crowding in so fast upon me, that my only Difficulty is to chuse or to reject; to run them into Verse or to give them the other harmony of Prose, I have so long studied and practis’d both, that they are grown into a Habit, and become familiar to me. In short, though I may lawfully plead some part of the old Gentleman’s Excuse, yet I will reserve it till I think I have greater need, and ask no Grains of Allowance for the Faults of this my present Work, but those which are given of course to Humane Frailty. I will not trouble my Reader with the shortness of Time in which I writ it, or the several Intervals of Sickness: They who think too well of their own Performances are apt to boast in their Prefaces how little Time their Works have cost them, and what other Business of more importance interfer’d: but the Reader will be as apt to ask the Question, Why they allow’d not a longer Time to make their Works more perfect, and why they had so despicable an Opinion of their Judges as to thrust their indigested Stuff upon them, as if they deserv’d no better? 21

  With this Account of my present Undertaking I conclude the first Part of this Discourse: in the second Part, as at a second Sitting, though I alter not the Draught, I must touch the same Features over again, and change the Dead-colouring of the Whole. In general I will only say, that I have written nothing which savours of Immorality or Profaneness; at least, I am not conscious to my self of any such Intention. If there happen to be found an irreverent Expression, or a Thought too wanton, they are crept into my Verses through my Inadvertency; If the Searchers find any in the Cargo, let them be stav’d or forfeited, like Counterbanded Goods; at least, let their Authors be answerable for them, as being but imported Merchandise, and not of my own Manufacture. On the other Side, I have endeavour’d to chuse such Fables, both Ancient and Modern, as contain in each of them some instructive Moral, which I could prove by Induction, but the Way is tedious; and they leap foremost into sight, without the Reader’s Trouble of looking after them. I wish I could affirm with a safe Conscience, that I had taken the same Care in all my former Writings; for it must be own’d, that supposing Verses are never so beautiful or pleasing, yet if they contain any thing which shocks Religion, or Good Manners, they are at best, what Horace says of good Numbers without good sense, Versus inopes rerum, nugæque canoræ: Thus far, I hope, I am Right in Court, without renouncing to my other Right of Self-defence, where I have been wrongfully accus’d, and my Sense wire-drawn into Blasphemy or Bawdry, as it has often been by a Religious Lawyer, in a late Pleading against the Stage; in which he mixes Truth with Falsehood, and has not forgotten the old Rule of calumniating strongly, that something may remain. 22

  I resume the Thrid of my Discourse with the first of my Translations, which was the First Iliad of Homer. If it shall please God to give me longer Life, and moderate Health, my Intentions are to translate the whole Ilias; provided still, that I meet with those Encouragements from the Publick, which may enable me to proceed in my Undertaking with some Chearfulness. And this I dare assure the World before-hand, that I have found by Trial, Homer a more pleasing Task than Virgil (though I say not the Translation will be less laborious). For the Grecian is more according to my Genius than the Latin Poet. In the Works of the two Authors we may read their Manners and natural Inclinations, which are wholly different. Virgil was of a quiet, sedate Temper; Homer was violent, impetuous, and full of Fire. The chief Talent of Virgil was Propriety of Thoughts, and Ornament of Words: Homer was rapid in his Thoughts, and took all the Liberties both of Number
s and of Expressions, which his Language, and the Age in which he liv’d allow’d him. Homer’s Invention was more copious, Virgil’s more confin’d: So that if Homer had not led the Way, it was not in Virgil to have begun Heroick Poetry: For, nothing can be more evident, than that the Roman Poem is but the Second Part of the Ilias; a Continuation of the same Story: And the Persons already form’d: The Manners of Æneas, are those of Hector superadded to those which Homer gave him. The Adventures of Ulysses in the Odysseis, are imitated in the first Six Books of Virgil’s Æneis: and though the Accidents are not the same (which would have argu’d him of a servile, copying, and total Barrenness of Invention), yet the Seas were the same in which both the Heroes wander’d; and Dido cannot be deny’d to be the Poetical Daughter of Calypso. The Six latter books of Virgil’s Poem are the Four and twenty Iliads contracted: A Quarrel occasion’d by a Lady, a Single Combate, Battels fought, and a Town besieg’d. I say not this in derogation to Virgil, neither do I contradict anything which I have formerly said in his just Praise: for his Episodes are almost wholly of his own Invention; and the Form which he has given to the Telling, makes the Tale his own, even though the Original Story had been the same. But this proves, however, that Homer taught Virgil to design: And if Invention be the first Vertue of an Epick Poet, then the Latin Poem can only be allow’d the second Place. Mr. Hobbs, in the Preface to his own bald Translation of the Ilias (studying Poetry as he did Mathematicks, when it was too late), Mr. Hobbs, I say, begins the Praise of Homer where he should have ended it. He tells us, that the first Beauty of an Epick Poem consists in Diction, that is, in the Choice of Words, and Harmony of Numbers; Now, the Words are the Colouring of the Work, which in the Order of Nature is last to be consider’d. The Design, the Disposition, the Manners, and the Thoughts are all before it: Where any of those are wanting or imperfect, so much wants or is imperfect in the Imitation of Humane Life; which is in the very Definition of a Poem. Words indeed, like glaring Colours, are the first Beauties that arise, and strike the Sight: but if the Draught be false or lame, the Figures ill dispos’d, the Manners obscure or inconsistent, or the Thoughts unnatural, then the finest Colours are but Dawbing, and the Piece is a beautiful Monster at the best. Neither Virgil nor Homer were deficient in any of the former Beauties; but in this last, which is Expression, the Roman poet is at least equal to the Grecian, as I have said elsewhere; supplying the poverty of his Language by his Musical Ear, and by his Diligence. But to return: Our two Great Poets, being so different in their Tempers, one Cholerick and Sanguin, the other Phlegmatick and Melancholick: that which makes them excel in their several Ways is, that each of them has follow’d his own natural Inclination, as well in Forming the Design as in the Execution of it. The very Heroes show their Authors: Achilles is hot, impatient, revengeful, Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer, &c. Æneas patient, considerate, careful of his People and merciful to his Enemies; ever submissive to the Will of Heaven, quo fata trahunt retrahuntque sequamur. I could please my self with enlarging on this Subject, but am forc’d to defer it to a fitter Time. From all I have said I will only draw this Inference, That the Action of Homer being more full of Vigour than that of Virgil, according to the Temper of the Writer, is of consequence more pleasing to the Reader. One warms you by Degrees; the other sets you on fire all at once, and never intermits his Heat. ’Tis the same Difference which Longinus makes betwixt the effects of eloquence in Demosthenes, and Tully. One persuades; the other commands. You never cool while you read Homer, even not in the Second Book (a graceful Flattery to his Countrymen); but he hastens from the Ships, and concludes not that Book till he has made you an Amends by the violent playing of a new Machine. From thence he hurries on his Action with Variety of Events, and ends it in less Compass than Two months. This Vehemence of his, I confess, is more suitable to my Temper: and therefore I have translated his First Book with greater Pleasure than any Part of Virgil; But it was not a Pleasure without Pains: The continual Agitations of the Spirits, must needs be a Weakning of any Constitution, especially in Age; and many Pauses are required for Refreshment betwixt the Heats; the Iliad of its self being a third part longer than all Virgil’s Works together. 23