EPISTOLA VI. NIL admirari, prope res est una, Numici, e NOTES. Ver. 3. dear MURRAY,] This piece is the most finished of all his Imitations, and executed in the high manner the Italian Painters call con amore. By which they mean, the exertion of that principle, which puts the faculties on the stretch, and produces the supreme degree of excellence. For the Poet had all the warmth of affection for the great Lawyer to whom it is addressed: and, indeed, no man ever more deserved to have a Poet for his friend. In the obtaining of which, as neither vanity, party, nor fear, had any share (which gave birth to the attachments of many of his noble acquaintance,) so he supported his title to it by all the good offices of a generous and true Friendship. Ver. 4. Creech.] From whose Translation of Horace the two first lines are taken. P. Ver. 4. Words of Creech.] Who, in truth, is a much better translator than he is usually supposed and allowed to be. He is a nervous and vigorous writer; and many parts, not only of his Lucretius, but of his Theocritus and Horace (though now decried), have not been excelled by other translators. One of his pieces may be pronounced excellent: his translation of the thir EPISTLE VI. TO MR. MURRAY. "Nor to admire, is all the Art I know, To make men happy, and to keep them so." (Plain Truth, dear MURRAY, needs no flow'rs of speech, So take it in the very Words of Creech.) This Vault of Air, this congregated Ball, Self-centred Sun, and Stars that rise and fall, There are, my friend! whose philosophic eyes Look through, and trust the Ruler with his Skies, To him commit the Hour, the Day, the Year, And view this dreadful All without a fear. Admire we then what Earth's low Entrails hold, Arabian shores, or Indian seas infold; All the mad trade of Fools and Slaves for Gold? Or 'Popularity? or Stars and Strings? The Mob's applauses, or the gifts of Kings? Say with what "eyes we ought at Courts to gaze, 5 10 15 NOTES. teenth Satire of Juvenal; equal to any Dryden has given us of that author. Ver. 8. trust the Ruler] This last line is quaint and even obscure; the two first vigorously expressed. Horace thought of a striking and exalted passage in Lucretius. Book v. 1. 1185. "Qui timet his adversa, fere miratur eodem Quo cupiens pacto: pavor est utrobique molestus: Improvisa simul species exterret utrumque : ¡Gaudeat, an doleat; cupiat, metuatne; quid ad rem: Si, quidquid vidit melius pejusve sua spe, Defixis oculis, animoque et corpore torpet? *Insani sapiens nomen ferat, æquus iniqui; Ultra, quam satis est, virtutem si petat ipsam. 'I nunc, argentum, et marmor "vetus,æraque, et artes Suspice: cum gemmis "Tyrios mirare colores: Gaude, quod spectant oculi te omille loquentem : Gnavus mane forum, et vespertinus pete tectum; "Ne plus frumenti dotalibus emetat agris Mutus, et (indignum ; quod sit pejoribus ortus) 'Hic tibi sit potius, quam tu mirabilis illi. 'Quicquid sub terra est, in apricum proferet ætas ; NOTES. Ver. 44. Yet time ennobles, or degrades each Line; One of the noblest houses in Europe.-The Original is, "Quicquid sub terra est, in apricum proferet ætas ; This wants neither force nor elegance; yet is vastly inferior to the Imitation, where a very fine panegyric on two great characters, in the second line, gives dignity and ease to the masterly conciseness of the first. W. Ver. 45. It brighten'd CRAGGS's,] His father had been a barber; but, by industry and ability, got to be Post Master General, and Agent to the Duke of Marlborough. If weak the "pleasure that from these can spring, The fear to want them is as weak a thing: Whether we dread, or whether we desire, In either case, believe me, we admire; Whether we 'joy or grieve, the same the curse, Thus good or bad, to one extreme betray 20 Th' unbalanc'd Mind, and snatch the Man away; 25 For Virtue's self may too much zeal be had; k The worst of Madmen is a Saint run mad. 'Go then, and if you can, admire the state Of beaming diamonds, and reflected plate; Procure a TASTE to double the surprise, And m gaze on Parian Charms with learned eyes: Be struck with bright "Brocade, or Tyrian Die, Our Birth-day Nobles' splendid Livery. If not so pleas'd, at Council-board rejoice, To see their Judgments hang upon thy Voice: From morn to night, at Senate, Rolls, and Hall, Plead much, read more, dine late, or not at all, But wherefore all this labour, all this strife? q For Fame, for Riches, for a noble Wife? 30 35 Shall One whom Nature, Learning, Birth, con spir'd To form, not to admire, but be admir'd, 40 Sigh, while his Chloe blind to Wit and Worth |