the Plague, the Country, the Battle of the Bulls, the Labour of the Bees, and thofe many other excellent images of nature, moft of which are neither great in themselves, nor have any natural ornament to bear them up: but the words wherewith he defcribes them are fo excellent, that it might be well applied to him, which was faid by Ovid, "Materiem fuperabat opus:" the very found of his words has often fomewhat that is connatural to the subject; and while we read him, we fit, as in a play, beholding the fcenes of what he reprefents. To perform this, he made frequent use of tropes, which you know change the nature of a known word, by applying it to fome other fignification; and this is it which Horace means in his epiftle to the Pifo's: the thought; the fecond is fancy, or the variafin, deriving or moulding of that thought as the judgment reprefents it proper to the fubject; the third is elocation, or the art of clothing and adorning that thought, so found and varied, in apt, fignificant, and founding words: the quicknefs of the imagination is feen in the invention, the fertility in the fancy, and the accuracy in the expreffion. For the two firft of thefe, Ovid is famous amongst the poets; for the latter, Virgil. Ovid images more often the movements and affections of the mind, either combating between two contrary paffions, or extremely difcomposed by one. His words therefore are the leaft part of his care; for he pictures nature in diforder, with which the ftudy and choice of words is inconsistent. This is the proper wit of dialogue or difcourse, and confequently of the drama, where all that is faid is to be fuppofed the effect of sudden thought; which, though it excludes not the quickness of wit in repartees, yet admits not a too curious election of words, too frequent allufions, or use of tropes, or in fine any thing that fhews remoteness of thought or labour in the writer. On the other fide, Virgil speaks not so often to us in the perfon of another, | like Ovid, but in his own: he relates almoft all things as from himself, and thereby gains more überty than the other, to exprets his thoughts with all the graces of elocution, to write more figuratively, and to confefs as well the labour as the force of his imagination. Though he defcribes his Dido well and naturally, in the violence of her paffions, yet he must yield in that to the Myrrha, the Biblie, the Althæa, of Ovid; for, as great an admirer of him as I am, I muft acknowledge, that if I fee not more of their fouls than I fee of Dido's, at least I have a greater concernment for them: and that convinces me, that Ovid has touched thofe tender ftrokes more delicately than Virgil could. But when action or perfons are to be defcribed, when any fuch image is to be fet before how bold, how mafterly are the ftrokes of Virgil! We see the objects he presents us with in their native figures, in their proper motions; but fo we iee them, as our own eyes could never have beheld them fo beautiful in themfelves. We fee the foul of the poet, like that univerfal one of which he speaks, informing and moving through al his pictures: -Totamque infufa per artus "Dixeris egregiè, notum fi callida verbum "Reddiderit junctura novum But I am fenfible I have prefumed too far to entertain you with a rude difcourfe of that art which you both knew fo well, and put into practice with so much happiness. Yet, before I leave Virgil, I must own the vanity to tell you, and by you the world, that he has been my mafter in this poem: I have followed him every where, I know not with what fuccefs, but I am sure with diligence enough my images are many of them copied from him, and the reft are imitations of him. My expreflions alfo are as near as the idioms of the two languages would admit of in tranflation. And this, fir, I have done with that boldnefs, for which F will ftand accountable to any of our little critics, who, perhaps, are no berter acquainted with him than I am. Upon your first perufal of this poem, you have taken notice of fome words, which I have innovated (if it be too bold for me to fay refined) upon his Latin; which, as I offer not to introduce into English profe, fo I hope they are neither improper, nor altogether inelegant in verfe; and, in this, Horace will again defend me, "Etnova fictaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, fi "Græco fonte cadant, parcè detorta The inference is exceeding plain: for if a Roman poet might have liberty to coin a word, fuppofing only that it was derived from the Greek, was put into a Latin termination, and that he used this liberty but feldom, and with modefty; how "Mens agitat molem, & magno fe corpore much more justly may I challenge that privilege " mifcet." to do it with the fame prerequifites, from the belt places, where either the fancy or the words were and moft judicious of Latin writers! In fome his, or any other's, I have noted it in the margiu, that I might not feem a plagiary; in others I have have neglected it, to avoid as well tedioufuefs, fcriptions or images well wrought, which I proas the affectation of doing it too often. Such demife not for mine, are, as I have faid, the adequate tion, which is its proper object; as the images of delight of heroic poefy; for they beget admiraburlefque, which is contrary to this, by the fame reafon beget laughter; for the one thewa nature B you are not of the number of those, of whom t younger Pliny speaks; "Nec funt parum mul "qui carpere amicos fuos judicium vocant;" I a rather too fecure of you on that fide. Your ca dor in pardoning my errors may make you mo confider that they come into the world with yo approbation, and through your hands. I beg fro you the greateft favour you can confer upou abfent perfon, fince I repofe upon your manag ment what is dearest to me, my fame and repu tion; and therefore I hope it will flir you up make my poem fairer by many of your blots; beautified, as in the picture of a fair woman, which we all admire the other fhews her deformed, as in that of a lazar, or of a fool with diftorted face and antique gestures, at which we cannot forbear to laugh, because it is a deviation from nature. But though the fame images ferve equal-remifs in correcting them; if you will not with ly for the Epic poefy, and for the hiftoric and panegyric, which are branches of it, yet a feveral fort of fculpture is to be used in them. If fome of them are to be like thofe of Juvenal," Stantes "in curribus Æmiliani," heroes drawn in their triumphal chariots, and in their full proportion; others are to be like that of Virgil," Spirantia "mollius æra:" there is somewhat more of foft-not, you know the ftory of the gamefter w nefs and tenderness to be fhewn in them. You will foon find I write not this without concern. Some, who have seen a paper of verses, which I wrote last year to her Highness the Dutchefs, have accused them of that only thing I could defend in them. They said, I did "humi ferpere;" that I wanted not only height of fancy, but dignity of words, to fet it off. I might well anfwer with that of Horace," Nunc non erat his locus;" I knew I addreffed them to a lady, and accordingly I affected the foftness of expreffion, and the smoothness of measure rather than the height of thought; and in what I did endeavour, it is no vanity to fay I have fucceeded. I deteft arrogance; but there is some difference betwixt that and a just defence. But I will not farther bribe your candor, or the reader's. I leave them to speak for me; and, if they can, to make out that character, not pretending to a greater, which I have given them. And now, fir, it is time I fhould relieve you from the tedious length of this account. You have better and more profitable employment for your hours, and I wrong the public to detain you longer. In conclufion, I muft leave my poem to you with all its faults, which I hope to find fewer in the printing by your emendations. I know married the rich man's daughter, and when father denied the portion, christened all the ch dren by his furname, that if, in conclufion, th muft beg, they should do fo by one name, as w as by the other. But fince the reproach of faults will light on you, it is but reafon I fho do you that justice to the readers, to let th know, that, if there be any thing tolerable in t poem, they owe the argument to your cho the writing to your encouragement, the correct to your judgment, and the care of it to y friendship, to which he must ever acknowle himself to owe all things, who is SIR, The most obedient, and most Faithful of your servant From Charleton in Wiltshire, JOHN DRYD What peace can be, where both to one pretend? But they more diligent, and we more strong) Or if a peace, it foon must have an end; For they would grow too powerful were it long. VIL. Behold two nations then, engag'd fo far, [land: That each seven years the fit must shake each Where France will fide to weaken us by war, Who only can his vaft designs withstand. VIII. See how he feeds th' Iberian with delays, To render us his timely friendship vain : And while his fecret foul in Flanders preys, He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain. IX. Such deep defigns of empire does he lay O'er them, whofe caufe he feems to take in hand; And prudently would make them lords at fea, To whom with ease he can give laws by land. X. This faw our king; and long within his breaft XI. His generous mind the fair ideas drew Of fame and honour, which in dangers lay; Where wealth, like fruit on precipices, grew, Not to be gather'd but by birds of prey.. XII. The lofs and gain each fatally were great; And still his fubjects call'd aloud for war: But peaceful kings, o'er martial people fet, Each other's poize and counterbalance are, |