THE ADVANCEMENT AND REFORMATION OF Modern Poetry.
PART I.
CHAP. I. The Design of the Work.
NOthing can shew the excellence of Poetry more, than that it has always been esteem'd by the best of men, and that there has been no extraordinary man in [Page 2] the world since it came to any perfection, but who has commended it or encourag'd it.
And yet, to the Confusion of most who have given themselves time to think of it, Poetry, that has been encourag'd by so many great Princes, is believ'd by several to have degenerated, rather than to have improv'd by Time; while Physicks, Metaphysicks, and some other Arts, that have been very little, or not at all encourag'd, have advanc'd considerably.
And what will appear to be yet more strange, the very efforts that the Moderns have made to advance Poetry have done it hurt, because they have proceeded upon such erroneous principles, as have not only made their attempts successless, but have caus'd them to mistake their Errors for their Impotence.
For, some of the Moderns, who have been great Admirers of their Contemporaries, which is a modest expression for themselves, will by no means allow that the Ancients have excell'd us. From which opinion Presumption has follow'd, and from Presumption Security, and from Security Idleness.
[Page 3] But Despair on the other side has done a great deal more harm than Presumption has done on that. For some who have been of opinion that the Ancients have surpass'd us, have believ'd that they have done so, because they were in themselves superiour to us; from which it has happen'd that they have been servilely contented with following their old Masters, and most of the Best of the Modern Poetry has been but a Copy of the Ancient.
These different Opinions have occasion'd Disputes, and these Disputes have produc'd Quarrels, which have been maintain'd with a great deal of Heat on both sides. The favourers of the Moderns have treated their Adversaries as dejected little-soul'd persons, who have a base opinion of themselves and of Human Nature, which last they have much ado to forgive them, because they are included in the Censure.
For, How can it be, say they, but a Scandalous Despondence that obliges us to prefer other men to our selves, when Reason gives us the preference. For this, they say, is past all Dispute, that they who excel others in the same kinds [Page 4] of Writing, must have some advantage over them. And that advantage must be either from without or from within, or from the subjects they treat of. Now we can make it appear, say the Favourers of the Moderns, that the Ancient Poets had no external or internal advantage over us, and that the advantage of the subject is rather on our side. And this is what the Favourers of the Moderns alledge for themselves. The Partizans of the Ancients have on the other side treated the Favourers of the Moderns, as persons that are absolutely ignorant and without taste.
That the Ancients have excelled us in the greatness of Poetry they pretend to prove from the Authority of all; who have universally been acknowledged to to be the best Judges. For, say they, the consent of these, where the question is concerning a thing, that is rather to be felt, than to be demonstrated, is of the last importance. We defy, say they, any of the Favourers of the Moderns, to name so much as one Modern Critick, who has any Reputation in the world, who does not acknowledge that the Ancients surpass us in the greatness of Poetry. [Page 5] For the few, say they, who have asserted the preheminence of the Moderns, have immediately rendred themselves ridiculous to all men, who have any understanding in these affairs, and at length to all the rest, excepting a little handful of men, whose arrogance and obstinacy and extravagant vanity has been a Comedy to the rest.
So that the consent of the best Criticks, continue they, implies the consent of all, and the consent of mankind for so many several ages, concerning a thing that is rather to be felt, than to be demonstrated, is, if not a convincing Proof, at least a very strong Presumption. But what has been the event of this Dispute on both sides? Why the probability of the Arguments, instead of working conviction, has only exasperated the Spirits of the Parties; and the Favourers of the Moderns have treated the Lovers of the Ancients as so many slavish Pedants, and these on the other side the Favourers of the Moderns as so many ignorant Fools.
Amidst this diversity of opinions and these contentious ferments, I thought I should do an important service to a most [Page 6] noble art, if I could contribute any thing to the reconciling the common Friends to Poetry, that they might endeavour the advancement of the common cause with greater force united.
In order then to the calming the Fury of the Contending Parties, I shall endeavour to extort Important Concessions from both, and oblige on the one side, the Favourers of the Moderns, to acknowledge that the Ancients are not so weak as to make the Moderns presume; and engage at the same time the Partisans of the Ancients to own, that the Ancients are not in themselves so strong, as to make the Moderns despair.
And in order to the gaining this point with the greater ease, and the making my self an Agreeable Mediator of Peace, I shall endeavour to make an Impartial enquiry into the merits of the Cause, and try to engage both Parties by turns, by supporting their just pretensions. And whereas the Favourers of the Moderns have justly alledged, that all Writers who surpass others in the same kinds of Writings, must do it from some nternal, or external advantage, or from [Page 7] the subject it self, I shall endeavour to shew in the two following Chapters, that the Ancients could not derive their preheminence from any external or internal advantage, and afterwards we shall proceed to examine whether they deriv'd it from the subjects they treated of.
CHAP. II. That the Ancients did not excel the Moderns by any External Advantage.
THe External Advantages which one Writer has over another are chiefly two. The Assistance which he receives from the Age in which he writes, and the Encouragement he meets with. Now we shall shew that the Ancients did not surpass the Moderns on the account of either of these.
First, they had no advantage in the Assistance which they receiv'd from the Age in which they writ; on the contrary, [Page 8] the advantage here is clearly on the side of the Moderns: For good Thinking is the foundation of good Writing, both in Eloquence and in Poetry. Now thoughts are but the Images of things, and our knowledge of things is greater than that of the Ancients. For several which they knew are better known to us, and we know several which they never knew at all. How many Arts have the Moderns improv'd? How many wonderful Inventions are owing to them? And how many amazing Discoveries? From which we have a supply of Thoughts and Images that is never to be exhausted. So that in the Assistance which we Receive from the Age in which we live, we have the advantage of the Ancients.
Nor, secondly, is it from the encouragement which they received, that the Ancient Poets excell'd the Moderns: Tho at the same time I really believe that Encouragement was one of the causes of the Ancient excellence of the Orators. For tho good Thinking is the foundation of good Writing both in Eloquence and in Poetry, and the Moderns are qualify'd [Page 9] to think as Reasonably and as Subtly as the Ancients thought, yet 'tis in these Arts as it is in Architecture, there can be no Beauty nor Greatness without Foundation, but 'tis not the Foundation that makes the Greatness or Beauty. The chief design of Eloquence is to perswade, and he perswading the most effectually who moves his Hearers the most; that which makes the Greatness and Beauty of Eloquence, is not so much the thinking rightly, tho without that there can be no Excellence, as those violent Passions that reign and tyrannize over our Souls in the Speeches of the Ancient Orators, which they chiefly deriv'd from Ambition. For the moving their Popular Assemblies among the Ancient Grecians and Romans, being almost the only way among them to arrive at the chief Honours of the State, it can be no wonder to those who reflect upon the Force of Ambition, and the Stings it infixes into the minds of men, that the Ancient Grecians and Romans should be so great Masters of Eloquence. For, being instigated and stung by Ambition, they not only were supported in the taking such pains as the [Page 10] Moderns are utterly uncapable of taking, because they have not the same incentive to sustain them, but being mov'd and fir'd by Ambition themselves they the more easily rowz'd and inflam'd others; for if any one happens to urge, that the Love of Glory being alike inseparable from Moderns and Ancients, they have equal incentives to Eloquence; I desire him to take notice, that there is a very considerable difference between the Love of Glory barely considered, and that which is joyn'd to Ambition, which is the desire of Power and Place. For I desire him to consider, what Nourishment and Force the Love of Glory that was in the minds of the Ancient Orators, must necessarily have received from the Tumultuous applauses of the popular Assemblies, and the Glorious Recompences that ensued upon them.
But now if any one thinks, that he has here found out the Reason, why the Ancients surpass'd us in the greater Poetry, because Passion making the Greatness and Beauty of Poetry, as well as it does of Eloquence, (which it certainly does, as shall be clearly shewn [Page 11] anon) and Passion receiving access from Encouragement, the Ancient Poets writ with a Force superiour to that of the Moderns, only because they were more encouraged: if any one, I say, thinks at this rate, he will find himself very much mistaken. For tho I am convinc'd that Encouragement does very much, yet I am satisfied that the difference is not chiefly owing to that; for in the first place, tho the encouragement which the Ancients gave, was more general than that which the Moderns have met with, yet some of the Moderns have been as much encourag'd as most of the Ancients were, and yet fall very much short of them in the greater Poetry, of which Boileau and Racine are two Illustrious Examples. In the second place, Homer, the most admirable of all the Ancients, was not at all encourag'd. In the third place, one of the Moderns receiv'd no encouragement, who has often transcendently soar'd above both Ancients and Moderns, and that is Milton, as shall be shewn in its proper place. And, lastly, Comedy was as much encourag'd by the Grecians and Romans, as any other [Page 12] sort of Poetry; witness what the Athenians did for Aristophanes, and Scipio and Lelius for Terence; and yet I am perswaded that the Moderns have surpass'd the Ancients in Comedy, and shall give my Reasons below why I make no scruple of preferring Moliere, and two or three of our own Comick Poets, to Terence and Aristophanes. So that we must seek for another Cause of the excellence of the Ancient Poets, than the encouragement they met with.
There are three other things which may be numbred among external advantages, and those are the Climates in which the Ancient Poets liv'd, and the Languages in which they writ, and the Liberty which they enjoy'd. But these are not the chief things from which the Ancients deriv'd their Preheminence. For the greatest of the Lyrick Poets writ in a Country of downright Blockheads, and one of the greatest of the Epick Poets in a Country that had lost its Liberty, and besides the Grecians enjoy'd all the advantages of their Climate, and their Language and their Liberty, long after the Decay of Poetry. 'Tis true, indeed, the Grecians and Romans did [Page 13] derive one real Excellence from the Beauty of their Language, and that was the Harmony of their Versification, in which the Moderns are not likely to equal them. But Harmony of Versification is not the chief thing in Poetry, nor does the chief Excellence of the Ancients consist in such a Harmony. And thus we have shewn that they did not derive their Preheminence from any thing that was external: Let us examine in the next Chapter, whether the Ancients deriv'd their Excellence from any internal advantage.
CHAP. III. That the Ancients did not surpass the Moderns from any Internal Advantage.
THere is nothing more certain, than that he who handles any subject excellently, must do it by the power of his Internal Faculties. And consequently he who treats any subject admirably, [Page 14] has an inward advantage over him who treats it scurvily. But either that advantage is naturally deriv'd from the subject, or it is not. If it is naturally deriv'd from the subject, in that case we can never pretend to deny that the Ancients had an inward advantage over the Moderns. All that we shall endeavour to prove, is, that they had no internal advantage over them, abstracted from the nature of the subjects of which they treated.
Now all the internal advantages, which the Ancients may be supposed to have had over the Moderns, may be reduc'd to four. Divine Inspiration. Inspiration by Daemons. A Natural Superiority of the Faculties of the Soul. A greater Degree of Vertue.
The first advantage that the Ancient Poets may be suppos'd to have had over the Moderns, is from Divine Inspiration. Now the Ancient Poets were the Heathen Theologues, and to affirm that the Spirit of God should inspire those to teach the Adoration of Idols, and inspire them more than he does the Moderns, who are of the true Religion, would be equally absurd and blasphemous.
[Page 15] Nor, Secondly, can they have any advantage by Inspiration of Daemons. For in the first place, 'tis absurd to give a supernatural Cause of an effect of which we can give a very natural one. But we can give a very natural Cause of the Excellence of the Ancient Poets, as shall be shewn anon. In the second place the Ancients before Socrates, ow'd all their Moral Philosophy to their Poets. Now tho that Philosophy was only dispers'd up and down in sentences, yet had it a natural tendency to the forming that system, which afterwards the Disciples of Socrates fram'd from the mouth of their Master. And as that system was the utter overthrow of the Heathen Revelation, as we shall shew anon, any thing that had a natural tendency to the forming that system, could not be the work of Daemons. But Thirdly, supposing the Ancient Graecian Poets were really inspired by Daemons, it is hard to imagine that they should receive a greater advantage from such an Inspiration as that, than the Moderns, who apply themselves to Sacred Poetry, should have from Divine Assistance.
[Page 16] Nor, Thirdly, Can the Ancient Poets be suppos'd to have had a greater share of virtue than the Moderns. For all the Grecian Poets who were famous for the greater Poetry, flourish'd before there was in that part of the world any system of Morality. And perhaps most of the Roman Poetry is only a Copy of the Grecian. Now it is hard to imagin, that they who had no system of Morality, and no supernatural support, should transcend the Moderns in Vertue, who have a perfect system of Morality and Divine Assistance.
Nor, Fourthly, and principally, had the Ancient any natural superiority of Faculties over the Modern Poets. For if they surpass the Moderns in the greater Poetry, out of any superiority of Faculties, which they had naturally as they were the Ancients, it must be by a superiority of understanding or imagination, or both. But first, it was not from any superiority of understanding. Because from hence it would follow, that the Minds of men grow weaker by succession of ages, and then the Ancients would have surpass'd one another, as they preceded in time. [Page 17] Orpheus and Musaeus would have excell'd Homer, Alcaeus and Stetichorus Pindar, Thespis Euripides, and Aeschylus Sophocles; Tyrtaeus Virgil, and Alcmon Horace, which is all absolutely false. But then again, if any one urges, that if the Ancients did not surpass one another according to precedence of time, it was because art and experience were requir'd to the perfection of Poetry, and the younger in Time had the Advantage of the elder both in Art and Experience; to that I answer, that some of the Poets, who are younger in Time, have perhaps the advantage of those who are older, more by Nature than they have by Art. For the Tragick and Lyrick Poets, who preceded Sophocles and Pindar, come more behind them in true Genius than they go before them in Time. But now if the Ancients did not surpass one another according to priority of Time, why should they excel us? If it be objected, that several very extraordinary men happen'd to be born at such and such particular times; to that I answer, that this arriv'd by providence or by chance. If you alledge that it fell out by chance, to that [Page 18] I reply, that all the great Poets among the Grecians flourish'd within four hundred years of one another, and all the great Poets among the Romans within two hundred years; and then let me ask you, whither this look'd like chance. But if you pretend, that these men at these particular times, were design'd such excellent Poets by Providence, and for that very end were form'd with faculties so much superiour to those who preceded them, and who came after them; then let me ask you, for what design Providence should so manifestly alter the course of nature, or why that which fell out by Providence then, may not by Providence arrive again.
Besides, if the Ancient Poets excell'd the Moderns by a superiority of understanding, it would necessarily follow that they understood their Subjects better; which is false: For the Subjects of the Epick, Tragick and Lyrick Poets, are the vertues, vices, and passions of men, which the Moderns ought to understand at least as well as the Ancients, because they have all the knowledge of the Ancients, and their own improvement besides.
[Page 19] Thus have I endeavour'd to show, that we have no reason to despair of equalling the Ancients, because of the Transcendency of their understandings. And what has been said about their understandings, may serve to shew that they as little excell'd the Moderns in their Imaginations, as they did in the other; tho something more may be said for the last, for the violence of the Passions, proceeding from the force of the Imagination, and the corruption of Mankind, from the violence of the Passions, and the corruption of Mankind growing greater, as the World grows older; it follows, that the Imaginations of Men must grow stronger as the World grows older.
But lastly, how vain it is to urge, that the Ancients excell'd the Moderns by a superiority of Faculties, when it will appear a little lower, as clear as the Sun, that one of the Moderns very often excells them both in his Thoughts and Spirit.
Thus we have endeavour'd to shew, that the Ancients did not excell the Moderns in the greater Poetry, from any external advantage, that is, from the [Page 20] assistance which they had, from the Ages in which they writ, or from the Encouragement with which they met. We have shewn too, that they did not surpass them from any Internal advantage, whether it was from Divine Inspiration, or Inspiration by Daemons, or Transcendency of Vertue, or superiority of Faculties. The advantage then, which the Ancient Poets had over the Moderns, if they had any advantage, must be deriv'd from the Subjects of which they treated.
CHAP. IV. That the Ancient Poets deriv'd their greatness from the Nature of their Subjects.
IF the Ancient Poets excell'd the Moderns in the greatness of Poetry; that is, in Epick Poetry, in Tragedy, and in the greater Ode; they must necessarily derive their preheminence from the Subjects of which they treated, since it has [Page 21] beeu plainly made to appear, that they could notDerive it from anyExternal or Internal advantage. And it follows, that the Subjects which were handled by the Ancients, must be different from those which have been treated of by the Moderns. And if the Poems which have been writ by the Ancients of the forementioned kinds were very much greater than those which have been produced by the Moderns, why then it follows, that the subjects were very different. But here the Favourers of the Moderns assert, that the advantage which is to be drawn from the Subject, is purely on the side of the Moderns. For who, for Example, will compare the atchievements of Achilles and Aeneas, the event of which was only the reducing two pitiful paltry Bourgs, with the glorious actions of some of our Modern Captains. But then the Partizans of the Ancients reply, that there is a difference between one subject and another, which their adversaries seem not to have thought of. For, say they, humane Subjects, can never differ so much among themselves, as Sacred Subjects differ from Humane, for the difference [Page 22] between the Two last is as great as that between God and Man; which we know is infinite. Now, say they, sacred Subjects are infinitely more susceptible of the greatness of Poetry, than prophane ones can be. And the Subjects of the Ancients in the forementioned Poems were sacred. Now that we may engage the Lovers of the Antients in their turns by supporting their just pretensions, let us endeavour to show in the following Chapters, that Sacred Poems must be greater than Prophane ones can be, supposing equality of Genius, and equal art in the Writers, and that the Poems of the Ancients in the forementioned kinds were sacred. But in order to the doing that, we must declare what Poety is, and what is its chief Excellence.
CHAP. V. The Passion is the chief thing in in Poetry, and that all Passion is either ordinary Passion, or Enthusiasm.
But before we proceed let us define Poetry; which is the first time that a Definition has been given of that noble Art: For neither Ancient nor Modern Criticks have defin'd Poetry in general.
Poetry then is an imitation of Nature by a pathetick and numerous Speech. Let us explain it.
As Poetry is an Art, it must be an Imitation of Nature. That the instrument with which it makes its Imitation is Speech need not be disputed. That that Speech, must be Musical, no one can doubt: For Numbers distinguish the parts of Poetick Diction from the periods of Prose. Now Numbers are nothing but articulate sounds, and their [Page 24] pauses measur'd by their proper proportions of time. And the periods of Prosaick Diction are articulate sounds, and their pauses unmeasur'd by such proportions. That the Speech, by which Poetry makes its Imitation, must be pathetick is evident; for Passion is still more necessary to it than Harmony. For Harmony only distinguishes its Instrument from that of Prose, but Passion distinguishes its very nature and character. For therefore Poetry is Poetry, because it is more passionate and sensual than Prose. A Discourse that is writ in very good Numbers, if it wants Passion can be but measur'd Prose. But a Discourse that is every where extremely pathetick, and consequently every where bold and figurative, is certainly Poetry without Numbers.
Passion then is the Characteristical mark of Poetry, and consequently must be every where. For where-ever a Discourse is not pathetick, there it is Prosaick. As Passion in a Poem must be every where, so Harmony is usually diffus'd throughout it. But Passion answers the two ends of Poetry better than Harmony can do, and upon that account is [Page 25] preferable to it: For first it pleases more, which is evident: For Passion can please without Harmony, but Harmony tires without Passion. And in Tragedy and in Epick Poetry a man may instruct without Harmony, but never without Passion: For the one instructs by Admiration, and the other by Compassion and Terror. And as for the greater Ode, if it wants Passion, it becomes Hateful and Intolerable, and its Sentences grow Contemptible.
Passion is the Characteristical mark of Poetry, and therefore it must be every where; for without Passion there can be no Poetry, no more than there can be Painting. And tho the Poet and the Painter describe action, they must describe it with Passion. Let any one who beholds a piece of Painting, where the Figures are shewn in action, conclude that if the Figures are without Passion the Painting is contemptible. There must be Passion every where in Poetry and Painting, and the more Passion there is, the better the Poetry and the Painting, unless the Passion is too much for the subject; and the Painter and the Poet arrive at the height of [Page 26] their Art, when they describe a great deal of Action with a great deal of Passion. It is plain then from what has been said, that Passion in Poetry must be every where, for where there is no Passion there can be no Poetry, but that which we commonly call Passion, cannot be every where in any Poem. There must be Passion then, that must be distinct from ordinary Passion, and that must be Enthusiasm. I call that ordinary Passion, whose cause is clearly comprehended by him who feels it, whether it be Admiration, Terror or Joy; and I call the very same Passions Enthusiasms, when their cause is not clearly comprehended by him who feels them. And those Enthusiastick Passions are sometimes simple, and sometimes complicated, of all which we shall shew examples lower. And thus I have shewn that the chief thing in Poetry is Passion; but here the Reader is desir'd to observe, that by Poetry we mean Poetry in general, and the Body of Poetry; for as for the form or soul of particular Poems, that is allow'd by all to be a Fable. But Passion is the chief thing in the Body of Poetry, as Spirit is in the [Page 27] Human Body. For without Spirit the Body languishes, and the Soul is impotent: Now every thing that they call Spirit or Genius in Poetry, in short, every thing that pleases, and consequently moves in the Poetick Diction, is Passion, whether it be ordinary or Enthusiastick.
And thus we have shewn what the chief excellence in the Body of Poetry is, which we have prov'd to be Passion. Let us now proceed to the proofs of what we propounded, that sacred subjects are more susceptible of Passion than prophane ones, and that the subjects of the Ancients were sacred in their greater Poetry, I mean either sacred in their own natures, or by their manner of handling them.
CHAP. VI. That Passion is more to be deriv'd from a Sacred Subject than from a Prophane one.
WE have prov'd that Passion is the chief thing in Poetry, and that Spirit or Genius, and in short every thing that moves is Passion. Now if the chief thing in Poetry be Passion, why then the chief thing in great Poetry must be great Passion. We have shewn too, that Passion in Poetry is of two sorts, ordinary Passion or Enthusiasm. Let us now proceed to convince the Reader, that a sacred Poem is more susceptible of Passion than a prophane one can be; which to effect, let us shew two things, that a sacred subject is as susceptible of ordinary passions as a prophane one can be, and more susceptible of the Enthusiastick.
The first is evident from experience: For the Poetry among the Ancients, [Page 29] which shall be hereafter prov'd to be sacred, had in it greater ordinary Passions, than their Human Poetry either had or could possibly have.
'Tis now our business to show that Religious subjects are capable of supplying us with more frequent and stronger Enthusiasms than the prophane. And in order to the clearing this, let us enquire what Poetical Enthusiasm is. Poetical Enthusiasm is a Passion guided by Judgment, whose cause is not comprehended by us. That it is a Passion is plain, because it moves. That the cause is not comprehended is selfevident. That it ought to guided by Judgment is indubitable. For otherwise it would be Madness, and not Poetical Passion. But now let us enquire what the cause of Poetical Enthusiasm is, that has been hitherto not comprehended by us. That Enthusiasm moves, is plain to sence; why then it mov'd the Writer: But if it mov'd the Writer, it mov'd him while he was thinking. Now what can move a man while he is thinking, but the thoughts that are in his mind. In short, Enthusiasm as well as ordinary Passions, must proceed from the [Page 30] thoughts, as the Passions of all reasonable creatures must certainly do; but the reason why we know not the causes of Enthusiastick as well as of ordinary Passions, is because we are not so us'd to them, and because they proceed from thoughts, that latently and unobserv'd by us, carry Passion along with them. Here it would be no hard matter to prove that most of our thoughts are naturally attended with some sort and some degree of Passion. And 'tis the expression of this Passion, which gives us so much pleasure, both in Conversation and in Human Authors. For I appeal to any man who is not altogether a Philosopher, whether he is not most pleas'd with. Conversation and Books that are Spirited. Now how can this Spirit please him, but because it moves him, or what can move him but Passion? We never speak for so much as a minute together withont different inflexions of voice. Now any one will find upon reflection, that these variations and those inflexions mark our different passions. But all this passes unregarded by us, by reason of long use, and the incredible celerity of our thoughts, [Page 31] whose motion is so swift, that it is even to our selves imperceptible; unless we come to reflect, and every one will not be at the trouble of that. Now these passions, when they grow strong I call Enthusiastick motions, and the stronger they are the greater the Enthusiasm must be. If any one asks what sort of passions these are, that thus unknown to us flow from these thoughts; to him I answer, that the same sort of passions flow from the thoughts, that would do from the things of which those thoughts are Ideas. As for example, if the thing that we think of is great, when then admiration attends the Idea of it; and if it is very great amazement. If the thing is pleasing and delightful, why then Joy and Gayety flow from the Idea of it; if it is sad, melancholy; if 'tis mischievous and powerful, then the Imagination of it is attended with Terror; And if 'tis both great and likely to do hurt and powerful, why then the thought of it is at once accompanied with Wonder, Terror and Astonishment. Add to all this, that the mind producing these thoughts, conceives by reflection a certain Pride, and Joy and Admiration, as [Page 32] at the conscious view of its own excellence. Now he who strictly examines the Enthusiasm that is to be met with in the greater Poetry, will find that it is nothing but the fore-mention'd passions, either simple or complicated, proceeding from the thoughts from which they naturally flow, as being the thoughts or Images of things that carry those passions along with them, as we shall shew by examples in the following Chapter.
But these passions that attend upon our thoughts are seldom so strong, as they are in those kind of thoughts which we call Images. For they being the very lively pictures of the things which they represent, set them, as it were, before our very eyes. But Images are never so admirably drawn, as when they are drawn in motion; especially if the motion is violent. For the mind can never imagine violent motion, without being in a violent agitation it self; and the Imagination being fir'd with that Agitation, sets the very things before our eyes; and consequently makes us have the same passions that we should have from the things themselves. For the warmer the Imagination is, the more [Page 33] present the things are to us, of which we draw the Images, and therefore when once the Imagination is so inflam'd as to get the better of the understanding, there is no difference between the Images and the things themselves; as we see, for example, in Fevers and Mad men.
Thus have we shewn that Enthusiasm flows from the thoughts, and consequently from the subject from which the thoughts proceed. For, as the Spirit in Poetry is to be proportion'd to the Thought, for otherwise it does not naturally flow from it, and consequently is not guided by Judgment; so the Thought is to be proportion'd to the Subject. Now no Subject is so capable of supplying us with thoughts, that necessarily produce these great and strong Enthusiasms, as a Religious Subject: For all which is great in Religion is most exalted and amazing, all that is joyful is transporting, all that is sad is dismal, and all that is terrible is astonishing.
CHAP. VII. The Causes of Poetical Enthusiasm, shewn by Examples.
THe Enthusiasm that is found in Poetry, is nothing but the forementioned passions, Admiration, Joy, Terror, Astonishment, flowing from the thoughts which naturally produce them. For Admiration, together with that Pride which exalts the soul at the conceiving a great Hint, gives elevation; Joy, if 'tis great, gives transport, and astonishment gives vehemence. But now let us shew by examples, how this was done, and let us begin with that Admirable Ode of Horace, which is the third of the Third Book.
That is,
The man, the brave man, who is resolv'd upon a right and a firm principle, is sure never to have his solid vertue shaken, neither by the rage of the giddy multitude, nor by the frowns of an insulting Tyrant, nor by the Fury of the Roaring South, that Turbulent Ruler of the Tempestuous Adria; no, nor by the Red Right Hand of Thundring Jove: Nay, should the World's disjointed Frame come rushing down with a Dismal Sound upon him, its Ruines might Crush, but they could never Shake him. Now 'tis plain that in the original there is a great deal of Enthusiasm. But let us observe a little what this Enthusiasm is. Upon observation we shall find then, that in the fore-mentioned Verses there is Elevation, Severity and Vehemence, and consequently there is something Admirable in them, and Terrible and Astonishing. Now why should we feel these passions in reading these thoughts, unless the passions naturally attend them, when they are express'd as [Page 36] they should be? But Admiration, as we have said above, must come from something that is great, and Terror from something that is powerful, and likely to hurt; and Astonishment from something that is very Terrible, and very likely to hurt; that is, from things that are so, or from their Idea's. The Reader, upon examining the fore-mention'd Verses, will find that the thoughts in them all are great and terrible, and some of them are astonishing.
But here I desire the Reader to observe three things: First, the admirable gradation of Thought here. How the Poet rises from something that is Terrible, to something that is more Terrible, till he comes at last to something Astonishing and Amazing. How from the Rage of the Mad Multitude, he proceeds to the frowns of a Tyrant that stands threatning by: How he rises from thence to a storm at Sea, and from thence to the wrath of Jove express'd in the dreadful Thunder, and from thence to the final dismal Dissolution of all things. The next thing that I desire him to observe is, How the Spirit of the Poet rises with his Thoughts, which [Page 37] is a sure sign, that the one is nothing but the passions that attend on the other. And the third thing that the Reader is to remark is, that the Poet could not carry his Enthusiasm higher after the second thought, without having recourse to Religion. For he who knows any thing of the Pagan system, knows that the three last thoughts are taken from their Religion.
Let us now set before the Reader an Image, that only by its greatness will move him and exalt him. The passage is in the first Book of Milton's Paradice Lost, where he thus describes Lucifer.
[Page 38] I desire the Reader would give himself the trouble of comparing these ten lines, with the ten that preceded them, and then to tell me, why the Spirit should be so much greater in these than it is in the others; unless it proceeded from the greatness of the Ideas, or how the greatness of the Ideas could cause it, but by infusing into the Poet admiration and a noble pride, which express'd make the Spirit, which is stately and majestick till the last, and then it grows vehement, because the Idea which causes it, is not only great, but very Terrible. For all the afflicting Passions that are violent are express'd with vehemence. The Reader cannot but observe of himself, that the greatest of these noble Ideas is taken from Religion.
Now let us consider two very masterly Images, out of the Second Book of Virgil; the first is the Hewing down of a Tree, which appear'd so admirable to Julius Scaliger, that he affirm'd that Jupiter [Page 39] could never have mended it; and the second gave occasion for that Incomparable Statue of Laocoon, which I saw at Rome, in the Gardens of Beluidere, and which is so astonishing, that it does not appear to be the work of Art, but the miserable Creature himself, like Niobe benumm'd and petrify'd with grief and horror.
The first, besides its Greatness, carries Terror along with it. Virgil compares the Destruction of Troy, which had been ten years besieg'd, to the fall of a Mountain Ash, at whose Root the labouring Swains had been a long time hewing with their Axes.
Now here I desire the Reader to consider, how the Poet raises his Spirit as soon as he sets his Image in motion, and brings in Terror to his relief.
For all the passions, when they are very great, carry Fury along with them, and all the afflicting passions, together with Fury, carry Vehemence and Severity. [Page 41] And the Poet hereby setting his Image in motion, had set it before his eyes, and so made it the more terrible. Let us now consider that of Laocoon.
Which in English Blank Verse runs thus,
And now here we find a deal of Enthusiasm; which is nothing but the elevation, and vehemence and fury proceeding from the Great and Terrible and Horrible Ideas. For the Poet setting his Image in so much motion, and expressing it with so much action, his inflam'd Imagination set it before his very eyes, so that he participated of the Danger which he describ'd, was shaken by the Terror, and shiver'd with the Horror▪ [Page 45] And what is it but the expression of the passions he felt, that moves the Reader in such an extraordinary manner. But here let us observe how the Spirit of the Poet rises, as the Danger comes nearer, and the Terror grows upon him.
Let us consider beside what prodigious force all this must have in the connexion, where Religion adds to the Terror, encreases the Astonishment, and augments the Horror. For 'twas by the direction of Minerva that this Terrible Incident was brought about, who had combin'd with Juno to destroy the Trojans, as has been at large declar'd in a former Critical Treatise. And thus we have endeavour'd to shew how the Enthusiasm proceeds from the thoughts, and consequently from the subject. But one thing we have omitted, that as thoughts produce the spirit, the spirit produces and makes the expression; which is known by experience to all [Page 46] who are Poets; for never any one, while he was wrapt with Enthusiasm, wanted either Words or Harmony; and is selfevident to all who consider, that the Expression conveys and shows the Spirit, and therefore must be produced by it. So that from what we have said we may venture to lay down this Definition of Poetical Genius. Poetical Genius in a Poem is the true expressions of Ordinary or Enthusiastick Passion, proceeding from Ideas, to which it naturally belongs; and Poetical Genius in a Poet, is the power of expressing such Passion worthily: And the sublime is a great thought exprest with the Enthusiasm that belongs to it, which the Reader will find Agreeable to the Doctrine of Cecilius. Longinus, I must confess, has not told us what the sublime is; because Cecilius, it seems, had done that before him. Tho methinks, it was a very great fault in so great a Man as Longinus, to write a Book which could not be understood, but by another Mans Writings; especially when he saw that those Writings were so very defective, that they were not likely to last. But tho Longinus [Page 47] does not directly tell us, what the Sublime is, yet in the first six or seven Chapters of his Book, he takes a great deal of pains to set before us, the effects which it produces in the minds of Men; as, for example, that it causes in them admiration and surprize; a noble Pride, and a noble Vigour, an invincible force transporting the Soul from its ordinary Situation, and a Transport, and a fulness of Joy mingled with Astonishment. These are the effects that Longinus tells us that the Sublime produces in the minds of men. Now I have endeavour'd to shew what it is in Poetry that works these effects. So that take the Cause and the Effects together, and you have the Sublime.
CHAP. VIII. Recapitulation, and that the Subjects of the Ancients, in their greater Poetry, were Sacred.
WE have now shewn, that if the Ancients excel the Moderns in Epick Poetry, in Tragedy, and in the greater Ode, they derive not their preheminence from any external, nor from any internal advantage, abstracted from the nature of the subject, and that consequently they must draw it from the nature of the subject itself. Then we shew'd that the greatest difference between one subject and another is that of Sacred and Prophane. Then we shew'd that Passion was the chief thing in Poetry, and great Passion in great Poetry, and that either ordinary Passion or Enthusiasm. Then we shew'd that Sacred subjects were as susceptible of ordinary Passion, as the Prophane and more susceptible of the Enthusiastick, which [Page 49] last we shew'd by Reason and by Example. So that to give a convincing Reason why the Ancients did, and must for the most part excel the Moderns in Epick Poetry in Tragedy, and the greater Ode, we have nothing to do, but to shew, that those Poems among the Ancients were always Sacred, because it is very well known, that among the Moderns, they are for the most part Prophane. First, then for Tragedy, that is very well known to have been Sacred in its institution, and it is full as plain, that it must have been Sacred in its original Nature, and after that the Episodes began to Intrench upon the Chorus, it still continued Sacred, as having Apostrophes, Revelations, Invocations, Machines. And so had the greater Ode. And as for Epick Poetry, in that the eldest of the Muses after the first Invocation was believed to Dictate every thing; besides, that the Gods were every where introduced in it, and all things were done by their Ministery. For which Reason it's apparent, that the Moderns in these sort of Poems, writing upon Prophane Subjects, cannot possibly equal the Ancients, supposing [Page 50] these last to have had but an equal share of Genius with them.
CHAP. IX. That the Ancient Poets deriv'd their preheminence from Religion, shewn by several other things, and first from this; that they did not excel the Moderns in Poetry, in which they made no use of Religion.
THat the Ancients in the Epos, in the Ode, and in Tragedy, deriv'd their preheminence from Religion, may appear from several things that have not yet been mention'd, and first of all from this, that they did not excel the Moderns in Poetry, in which they drew no advantage from Religion, as in Comedy and in Satyr, and that in Historical Poetry, as the Pharsalia of Lucan, whenever the Ancients excell'd the Moderns, they drew their advantage from Religion.
[Page 51] For Comedy the Ancients are so far from excelling the Moderns in it, that the advantage is clearly on our side. For I shall make no scruple of preferring Moliere, and two or three of our own Comick Poets, to Terence and Aristophanes. For whether the design of Comedy, be to instruct or to please, or both, the Modern Comedy answers both those ends incomparably better than the Ancient. If the end of Comedy be only to please, why then it must please by the Ridiculum; for that which is the end of any sort of Writing whatever, must be attain'd by a way, that must distinguish that sort of Writing. As, for example, the end of Tragedy and of Epick Poetry is to instruct. But the latter instructs chiefly by Admiration, and the former by Compassion and Terror. Now Admiration distinguishes Heroick Poetry, and Compassion and Terror Tragedy, from all other sorts of Poems whatever; but the only thing that distinguishes the pleasure which Comedy gives us, from the pleasure that we receive from all other sorts of Poems whatever, is the Ridiculum. Now the Ridiculum in the Modern Comedy, is beyond Comparison Higher than it is in [Page 52] the new Comedy of the Ancients, and beyond Comparison more in Nature, than it is in the old one. And it is higher both in the Incidents, and in the Characters. For if the end of Comedy is to please, and that end is to be attain'd by the Ridiculum, why then the Ridiculum ought to be spread throughout it. But besides, that it is higher in the Modern Comedy, there is a greater variety of it both in the Incidents and in the Characters, and that variety must make it the more delightful. For a uniformity in this case takes away from the surprize, and without surprize the Ridiculum cannot subsist. And besides, that the Moderns have a greater variety both of Characters and Fables, they have a greater variety of Style. For the Style of the Comedy of the Ancients, and particularly of Terence his Comedy, does not seem to me to be varied enough, nor proportioned enough to the Characters. The Slave in Terence speaks with the same Elegance and the same Grace for the most part that his Master does. But look into the Plain Dealer, and you shall find as many Styles in it, as there are Characters. For Manly, Freeman, Plansible, Oliviae, Novel, Elisha, [Page 53] the Widow Blackacre and Jerry have each of them a different Dialect, which besides the variety, must be further delightful, because it is an exact Imitation of Nature. For as every man has a different form of face, he has a different turn of mind, and consequently a different cast of thought, and a different manner of expression. Add to this, that the Moderns seem to know men better, and to dive into some latent foibles, into some Ridiculous Recesses, that were utterly unknown to the Ancients. So that in every good Comedy, at the same time, that we are diverted with the Ridiculum, we are entertained with Discoveries, which is very delightful; But if the chief design of Comedy be to instruct, as I make no question but it is, because publick spectacles ought to contribute to the publick advantage, we shall find, that the Modern Comedy arswers this end too better than that of the Antients. If the design of Comedy be to instruct, it must instruct by the Ridiculum, for the very same Reason, that we affirm'd it must please by it, because it is to be distinguished by the means, by which it attains its end, But nothing but the Ridiculum can distinguish [Page 54] Comedy from all other Poems. But Comedy instructing by the Ridiculum, that Ridiculum ought to be both in the Fables and Characters. First, it ought to be in the Characters, or else it cannot be in the Incidents, and consequently there can be no Comedy. For the manners of the Agents produce the Incidents. Secondly, it ought to be in the Incidents, or else it would follow, that there would be manners in the Agents, which are not productive of action, which ought not to be. Besides, Comedy instructs by its Fables or Characters, or both. If it instructs only by its Characters, as some Criticks have thought, yet the Ridiculum ought to be in the Action too, or the seriousness of the Incidents would check the instruction, as well as the pleasure, which we receive from the Characters. But if it instructs by its Fable and Action, as certainly it ought to do, why then the Ridiculum must be in the incidents which are parts of the Action, because Comedy instructs by the Ridiculum; and consequently this last ought to reign chiefly in the Catastrophe, which ought to be the most instructive part of the Fable, and [Page 55] to make the strongest impression. Besides, there are but two ways of instructing by example, and those are, the shewing men Ridiculous for their faults, or unfortunate, to represent them expos'd by them, or chastis'd for them. But if Comedy shews men unfortunate, it usurps upon Tragedy. The great Disorders of the world are caus'd by great Passions, and they are punish'd by Tragedy. The little Passions cause little Disquiets, and make us uneasie to our selves and one another, and they are expos'd by Comedy. For, that which we call Humour in Comedy, is nothing but a little Ridiculous passion, and the exposing it in Comedy is thought to be Poetical Justice sufficient for it: Not but that at last the Characters in Comedy may be chastiz'd at the Catastrophe for faults which they have committed; but that very Chastisement ought to be wrapt up in the Ridiculum, or the Catastrophe cannot be truly Comical. For as the Catastrophe of a Tragedy ought to be the most Tragical part of it, because Tragedy instructing by Compassion and Terror, those two Passions ought to be most strongly mov'd in the most Instructive part of the Fable; so the Catastrophe [Page 56] of a Comedy ought to be the most Comical part of it for the very same reason; for Comedy instructing by the Ridiculum, as has been shewn above, the most Instructive part of it ought to be most Ridiculous. But now if 'tis the end of Comedy to Instruct, and it instructs by the Ridiculum, the Modern Comedy must be more Instructive than the Ancient could be. For the Ridiculum in the old Comedy of the Ancients, was very often out of Nature, both in the Characters and in the Incidents, and consequently could not instruct. And the Ridiculum in their new Comedy being not so strong as it is in ours, neither in their Characters not in their Incidents, could not Insttuct so powerfully; and the Moderns having greater variety of it both in their persons and action, the Instruction in the Modern Comedy must be the more extensive, besides that the variety of Action and Incidents must make our Catastrophes more surprizing, and consequently more Ridiculous.
So that the Modern Comedy pleasing more, and instructing more, and so answering the two ends of Comedy better than the Ancient did, it follows that [Page 57] the Moderns in Comedy are preferrable to the Ancients.
As the Moderns have excell'd the Ancients in Comedy, they have equall'd them in Satyr. There has been a long dispute among the Criticks, whether Horace or Juvenal ought to be preferr'd in Satyr. Their excellencies indeed are are very different, and therefore a Comparison is not easie to be made. Horace had a great deal of pleasantry, and Juvenal a great deal of force, at least for his way of writing. Now Boilean has justly got a great Reputation both for force and pleasantry, and consequently is equal to either of the Roman Satyrists; And here it will not be amiss to observe, that the very same Poets among the Moderns, who have surpass'd the Ancients in Comedy, and who have equall'd them in Satyr, have faln infinitely short of them when they have attempted the greater Poetry, as Ben Johnson comes behind them in Tragedy, and Boilean in the greater Ode.
As for Historical Poetry, any one who is acquainted with Lucan may have observ'd, that where that Author is very great, he derives his greatness from Religion; as he does, for example, in Cato's [Page 58] Speech, which is a kind of Abstract of the Religion and Metaphysicks of the Stoicks.
[Page 59] Which in English is thus.
Lucan is very far from being so exalted every where as he is here. For, [Page 61] where-ever he is very great and poetical, he must be so by the greatness of ordinary passion, or by the force of Enthusiasm. But ordinary passions can neither be very frequent in an Historical Poem; nor if they could, could they be frequently great. Because there being no Fable, and no Art, they can seldom be rightly prepar'd. Nor can the Enthusiasms be frequently great where there is no Religion. But Religion cannot be frequent in an Historical Poem, unless it is in Sacred History. If any one would give himself the trouble of comparing the Twelfth Book of the Aeneis with the seventh of the Pharsalia, he would find that Virgil is ten times greater than Lucan, and that Lucan's subject, as far as it is Humane, is ten times greater than Virgil's. For, I hope, no man will compare Aeneas, take him without his Divine Dependencies with Julius Caesar, the greatest of men, nor the Combat that made the former King of the Latins, with the Battel that made Caesar the Absolute Master of the World. From whence it would follow, if the greatness of Virgil's Subject consists in any thing Humane, that either Lucan's writing in his Seventh Book is twenty [Page 62] times below his Subject, or that the Writing of Virgil in his Twelfth Book is twenty times above his. But Lucan's writing in his Seventh Book is not twenty times below his Subject, as any Modern Poet that should be oblig'd to handle that Subject after him, would be forc'd to confess. Nor is the writing of Virgil in the last of the Aeneis so many degrees above his subject. For if it is, then that last Book is scurvily writ, because the thoughts and expressions ought to be proportion'd to the things. But the last Book of the Aeneis is admirably writ. What then can be the meaning of all this? Why the meaning must be, that Virgil's subject is twenty times greater than Lucan's. But Lucan's subject is ten times greater than his as far as it is only Humane, which has been made to appear. The excellency then of Virgil's subject must come from something that is not Humane, and that must be from Religion; so Virgil's greatness and his Enthusiasm comes from his Machines, and the Ministery of the Gods, and the other parts of his Religion, and Lucan's littleness, from his want of those Machines, and that Ministery▪ Petronius [Page 63] Arbiter, Lucan's Contemporary, was very sensible of this. For he, tho an Epicurean profest, was so sensible of the Advantage that Poetry deriv'd from Religion, that in the Beginning of his Satyricon, after he has been exclaiming against the Writers of the Times, and particularly against Lucan, he offers this expedient for the restoring Poetry to its former greatness, that they should restore it to its former Religion. But to return to Lucan; He is often tedious and spiritless, because his Subject is not only meerly Humane, but it's sometimes Impious. For Lucan had conceiv'd the most extravagant Design in the World. For at the same time that he sets up for a Stoick, he writes a Book to prove either that there is no such thing as Providence in the World, or that the Gods favour'd Injustice.
Before I make an end of this Chapter, I beg the Reader's leave that I may digress for a moment, because the digression is of very great importance to Poetry.
[Page 64] We have shewn that the Subject of Virgil in the Twelfth of his Aeneis, is very much greater than Lucan's is in the Seventh of his Pharsalia. We have shewn too, at the same time, that Lucan's was greater as He found it, and that Virgil's was greater as He made it. For I hope I need say nothing at this time of day to prove that the Religious part of Virgil's Subject was Invented and Dispos'd by the Poet. Which may show the benefit of Art, that is, of Rules in Poetry. For, tho 'tis by the Genius of a Writer, that is, by a Soul that has the power of expressing great Passions, whether ordinary or Enthusiastick, that we treat a Subject with Dignity equal to its greatness, yet 'tis Art that makes a Subject very great, and consequently gives occasion for a great Genius to shew it self.
And thus we have shewn that the Ancients did not excel the Moderns in Comedy and Satyr, which are not Sacred Poems, as having neither Invocations, Apostrophes, Revelations or Machines; at least the new Comedy had none of all these, and the old one only some low Burlesque or else Grotesque ones. We have shewn too that the Sacred Poetry [Page 65] of the Ancients, was beyond comparison greater than their Historical Poetry, because it was not Sacred.
CHAP. X. That in their Sacred Poetry, in which the Ancients, excell'd the Moderns, those places were greatest, and most Poetical that had most of Religion.
But as the Ancients did not surpass the Moderns in Poetry that was not Sacred, so in that sort of Poetry where they did excel them, they were never so admirable as where they were most Religious. Now the passages of the Ancient Poets, which seem to have most Religion in them, are either those addresses by which men approach'd the Gods, as Invocations, Apostrophes, and the like; or those condescensions, by which the Gods communicated themselves to men, as Revelations, Machines, [Page 66] &c. the first of which are Duties that belong to universal Natural Religion, the second to Religion which is Reveal'd, Extraordinary and Miraculous. Every thing that is great in Poetry must be great by the Genius that is felt in it, which is the chief thing in Poetry, according to the general acceptation of it; and the principal thing in the Materia Poetica, or the Body of Poetry. Now all Genius is Passion because it moves, and all Passion is either Enthusiasm or ordinary Passion, as we declar'd above. Now that even ordinary Passion in Poetry is heighten'd by Religion, we shall endeavour to prove. And we shall most insist upon those ordinary Passions, which are most to be found in Tragedy and in Epick Poetry. For, as for the greater Ode, that seems to be the peculiar province of Enthusiasm, and ordinary Passions in that are more rarely to be met with.
First then Admiration, which is the Reigning Passion in Epick Poetry, I mean that which is admirable in the action of the Hero, is heighten'd by Revelations, by Machines, and the Ministration of the Gods. For that Ministration, [Page 67] those Machines, and those Revelations are all Miraculous. And the man who was admirable before for his extraordinary Valour and his Native Greatness, becomes more wonderful, when we behold him the esteem and immediate concern of Heaven, when we see him the 'peculiar care of Providence, when we find the order of Nature inverted, the Skies grown factious upon his account, and Gods descending to sustain or oppose him.
But Secondly, Terror and Compassion, which are the Reigning Passions in Tragedy are Heighten'd by Religion. Tragedy, says Aristotle in his Poetick, is the Imitation of an action which excites Compassion and Terror. Now those two Passions proceed from Surprize, when the Incidents spring one from another against our expectation. For those Incidents, continues the Philosopher, are always more admirable than those which arrive by chance; which is evident from this, says he, that even of accidental things, those are always the most wonderful and most surprizing, which at the same time that [Page 68] they arrive by Chance, seem to fall out by Design; and by a certain particular secret conduct, of which Nature was what they relate of the Statue of Mitys at Argos, which fell upon his Murderer, and kill'd him upon the spot, in the midst of a great Assembly. For that by no means, says the Philosopher, seems to be the work of Chance. From whence ir follows, says he, of necessity, that those Fables where there is this conduct, will always seem preferable to those that have it not. Thus Aristotle declares that the Wonderful in Tragedy, as well as in Epick Poetry, is Heightned by Religion, that those Tragical Incidents that appear to have most of Providence in them, are always most moving and Terrible. The Reason is plain. For all cur Passions are grounded upon the Love of our selves; and Terror and Compassion spring from the Calamities of our equals; that is, of those who being in circumstances resembling ours, and committing faults which we either commit, or to which we are liable, are upon that unfortunate. For the more there appears to be of Providence in the punishment, the more we pity the persons. [Page 69] For if their calamities appear to be the work of Chance, they might as well have hapned to those who have not committed such faults, as to those who have. And therefore a Train of Incidents, which, contrary to our expectation, surprizingly produce one another, is necessary, because the more plainly the punishment appears the result of the faults, and the more clearly we are convinc'd of this when we least expect it, Providence appears the more in the case, and our security is shaken the more, and the more we are mov'd and Terrified. But Religion does not only heighten those Passions which are great in themselves, as Admiration and Terror are; for Admiration raises the Soul, and every thing that is Terrible, is certainly great to him to whom it is Terrible, but it ennobles those which are commonly base and dejected; as for example, Grief; witness that passage in the Passion of Dido:
[Page 70] And that Noble Apostrophe afterwards:
And that Sublime Apostrophe of Seinon in the Second Book:
But to come to the other sort of Passion, which gives Poetry its force and its greatness, Religious Enthusiasm must necessarily be greater than Human Enthusiasm can be, because the Passions that attend on Religious Ideas, when a man is capable of Reflecting on them as he should do, are stronger than those which attend on Prophane Ideas, as has been said above, and has been partly shewn by examples. And as ordinary Passion is Heightned by Religion, so Human Enthusiastick Passions are heightned [Page 71] by Religious Enthusiasm. We shall give an example of this in Terror, by which I mean not that Common Passion which Aristotle treats of in his Rhetorick and in his Poetick, and of which we spoke in the former part of this Chapter; but that Enthusiastick Terror, which springs from the Ideas unknown to him who feels it. Virgil in his first Book of the Aeneis describes a Tempest, which carries Double Terror along with it; the ordinary one, which springs from the concern which we have for the Hero; and the Enthusiastick one, which the Ideas would carry along with them, tho they were separated from that concern which we feel for the Hero. The Description is Grave, and Severe, and Exalted, because the Poet was mov'd by the Terrible Ideas. For that which is Terrible, is always great to him to whom it is Terrible, as we said before; and that which is Great is Admirable, and then he who is Terrified is always serious, and very much in Earnest. The same Description where the Terror is at the Height is vehement.
Because that which is very Terrible is Wonderful and Astonishing, and he who is astonish'd, being transported beyond himself, must of necessity express himself with that sort of Fury which we call Vehemence. Virgil, by setting so many Terrible Images in motion, had set this Tempest before his Eyes, or rather had transported himself as it were into it. Now, any one who has been upon the brink of a Wreck, and consequently has been very much Terrify'd himself, and seen others Astonish'd, cannot but have felt the same motions that he feels in Reading this passage, and cannot but have observ'd that others who felt them, express'd themselves with the same Fury and Vehemence that the Poet does, tho not with the same Elegance. But tho this Storm is Terrible in it self and Wonderful, yet the Machines, which prepare, and raise, and allay it, very much add to its Greatness [Page 73] and genuine Terror, and it is quite another thing when it is consider'd with the cause of it, which is the Anger of Juno, and the Compliance of Aeolus, and with that which follow'd upon it, which is the Indignation of Neptune, and the exertion of his absolute power.
The passages of the Ancient Poets that were most Religious, were their Invocations, Apostrophes, or the like; or those which contain'd the Miraculous part of their Religion, their Signs, Apparitions, Oracles, and other Revelations.
For their Invocations, Apostrophes, and the like, which were all of them either a sort of Prayers, or Divine Attestations, they are most of them very sublime, and attended with a strong Enthusiasm. And how could it be otherwise, but that the Ancient Poets, who were men of great Learning, of great Passions great Eloquence, and great Parts; when with study and pains, and with all their endeavours to be Enthusiastick, they address'd themselves to their Gods, should be extremely agitated, when we see very plainly that a sort of Modern Enthusiasts, who have neither [Page 74] Learning nor Parts, nor the least tincture of good Letters, are even in their Extempore Prayers disturb'd with very fierce Enthusiasms.
For the Apostrophe, we have given examples of it already, and therefore we shall only say here, that Longinus mentions it as one of the Figures that contribute the most to the Sublime. For the Invocation, we shall bring an Example of it, from the seventh Book of Virgil, and the Reader is desir'd to take notice what addition of Enthusiasm attends it.
[Page 75] And from Horace, Lib. 3. Ode 4.
But to come to those passages of the Ancient Poems, in which the Miraculous part of their Religion was contain'd, and their Revelation more nearly concern'd, as their Signs and Wonders, and their private Inspirations; but above all, the Apparitions of their Gods and their Oracles, it is no wonder if those passages, speaking of things that strike mankind with the last Astonishment, have almost all the Enthusiasm of which the mind of man is with Reason capable. Horace is by no means a cold Writer, and yet he is far from writing every where with the same degree of Fury, and the same Rapture, that he does in the beginning of the Nineteenth Ode of the Second Book.
Nor is Virgil every where so Enthusiastick, as he is in the beginning of the Sixth Book, where the Cumaean Sibyl rages with the Delphick God.
In short, any thing that immediately concerns Revelation has so great an Influence upon Poetry, that it is able to change even the Nature of Writing, and Exalt that very sort of Poetry, which by its Character is Low and Humble; as for Example, the Eclogue: The fourth Eclogue of Virgil will be easily granted by all to be very Sublime. But what is it that makes it so? Why there is at once in that Eclogue an Invocation, and an Apostrophe, and a Revelation of sundry Miracles to come. The Fifth Eclogue between Menalcas and Mopsus, begins with all the Humility, and all the Simplicity, that is proper and peculiar to the Eclogue.
And thus Mr Duke has with the same Simplicity translated it.
But this very Menalcas changes his Tone in a wonderful manner, when in the same Eclogue he comes to the Apotheosis of Daphnis.
And you may easily see that the Gentleman who translated it, who wants no [Page 79] Genius, felt the extream alteration of the Spirit.
But let us see a little how Virgil goes on.
[Page 80] But Virgil goes on.
But now 'tis time to ask a question, What is the reason that Virgil, who knew the Character of the Eclogue better than any man, and who was so throughly convinc'd that the Discourses of Shepherds ought to be simple, and their affections soft and gentle affections, and who besides has been always us'd to introduce his persons speaking perfectly in their Characters, should bring in Menalcas in this Eclogue talking in so exalted a manner, and with so [Page 81] strong an Enthusiasm? Why he has given the Reason in the preceding Verses.
'Tis that he was satisfied that very violent Enthusiasms flow so necessarily from the wonders of Religion, that they were as natural to Shepherds as they were to Kings, as being to both alike unavoidable. But what Influence the Miraculous part of Religion had on the Ancient Poetry, we shall discover more at large in the following Chapter.
CHAP. X. That the Grecian Poetry flourish'd with their Religion.
THe Grecian Religion flourish'd in Greece from the time of Orpheus, who was either the Original Instituter, [Page 82] or at least a vehement propogater of that Idolatry, till the Age after that in which Sophocles flourish'd, that is, for the space of about eight hundred years, and in that space of time flourish'd all their Poets, who are celebrated for their excellence in that sort of Poetry which we call Sacred. Which alone is a strong presumption, that these Poets deriv'd their excellence from Religion. In short, the advantage which their Poetry drew from Religion must needs be very considerable, when for all or most of the fore-mention'd space of time, according to the Testimony of Plutatch, and several others of their authentick Writers, it made most of their Zealots, even their common people Poets, and that even in their ordinary conversation. I must confess, the Gentleman who writ the History of Oracles, treats this as a Fiction, and a Fiction so palpable as not to be worth the answering. But perhaps that Gentleman had not consider'd this matter enough. For I desire the Reader to consider two things. First, the extraordinary incentives which those people had to Enthusiasm, which is one qualification for Poetry; and secondly, [Page 83] the habit which they might very probably contract of Versification. To be satisfied of the first, let us enquire a little into the nature of their Religion: And upon enquiry we shall find, that the very source, and spring and soul of it was an imaginary or pretended Revelation, and that that Revelation was suppos'd to be constant and continual, as it must be of every Religion which has no sound Morality. They had their publick and private Revelations, as Oracles, Visions, Dreams, Apparitions. And Gods and Goddesses, Nymphs and Demi-gods, Fawns and Satyrs were seen by Imagination in every Grove, on every Mountain, and in every Valley, as soon as either the Horrors of the place, or its silence, or their fears, or their wishes, or their contemplations had dispos'd their minds to be Religiously impos'd upon. Now what sort of Passions, and what sort of Spirit must be produc'd in them by these Imaginations, we may guess by what happens among our selves, when any one believes that he has seen an Apparition. The man is alter'd quite in a moment; his colour, his mein, his comportment are all different: Nor are [Page 84] they who hear him the same, but are all of them surpriz'd, transported, astonish'd, and all of them very profoundly attentive. Now very few that have any Judgment have any Notion that an Apparition will do them any harm, nor has any one an example of it, that may be easily credited. But the Ancient Grecians had notions, that their Gods had power to destroy them, or make them happy, and they had a thousand Examples of it, in Museus, and Orpheus and Homer, and the rest of the Fathers of their Church, which must cause the Emotions upon the fancied Apparitions, or the Relations of them to be the greater, and fill their Souls with more turbulent Passions, and a greater Religious Horror.
But then let us consider, secondly, that these Zealots must in some measure have contracted a Habit of Versisication from their Religious duties. For the very common People in Greece, had with quick apprehensions a great deal of vivacity; and therefore I leave the Reader to guess, what effect the Reading Museus, and Homer and Orpheus, and the rest of the Fathers of their Church, [Page 85] for their whole life-time, must necessarily have had upon their Minds; together with their Praying, Praising, Sacrificing and Thanksgiving in Verse: Why, may not they very well be supposed from all this, to have contracted a Habit of Versifying?
And why may not that Habit, joyn'd to their continual Enthusiastick Motions, which they had, either from the Revelations which they fancied that the Gods imparted to themselves, or from the Relations of those, which they believed were vouchsafed to others; or from the performance of the foresaid Religious Duties, and from their Ritual, which their Poets had compos'd with so much Enthusiasm, capacitate them to express, themselves Poetically even in common Society; as well as some whole Sects of our Modern Fanaticks in England, who have by no means the vivacity of the Grecians, are enabled from the continual Reading of Scripture, and the Imaginary Dictates of the private Spirit, to make up their ordinary conversation almost wholly of Scripture language.
[Page 86] But since these Visions and these Apparitions, joyn'd to their constant Reading the Poets, had such a mighty influence upon the people, what must they not have had upon their Priests the Poets, who having stronger pretences to those Revelations, and more earnest and eager application to the Reading of the Poets, who writ before them, and who besides having strong Imaginations and great Passions, and still greater Souls to command them, were qualify'd to draw an extraordinary advantage from them? When these, whose peculiar business it was to take care of Religion, at any time writ upon Religious Matters, what Gravity, what Severity, what Elevation, what Vehemence must they not necessarily derive from their subject?
CHAP. XII. Objection answered.
BUt here 'tis convenient to answer an Objection; for here it will be urg'd, that the Ancient Poets among the Grecians, being men of extraordinary parts, could not believe any thing so absurd as the Revelations and Miracles mention'd in the former Chapter, and consequently could not draw any advantage from them. To which I answer, that first they might draw an advantage from them tho they did not believe them; and secondly, that they did believe them.
First, Supposing they did not believe them, yet they might very well draw their advantage from them. For every one is brought up in the Reveal'd Religion of his Country, and consequently believes it for the first part of his life. Now every one knows that the force of [Page 88] Education, and the Influence of first Impressions is great, and especially upon the minds of those who have strong Imaginations. And supposing that the Poets, when they set themselves to write, were not satisfied about the Truth of the Revelations of which they treated, yet the former strong Enthusiastick motions, that they were wont to have upon the like Ideas in the first years of their youth, would certainly follow upon them again, whenever they had heartily a mind to give into them.
But secondly, a man may have a very good understanding, and yet believe a false, nay, even an absurd Revelation. The Revelation of Mahomet is both false and absurd, and yet several among the Turks, who have shewn themselves men of extraordinary parts for several years together, have at last convinc'd the world of the sincerity of their belief, by very frankly submitting to die at the Command of their Emperors, when they could with a great deal of ease have declin'd it. For 'tis so reasonable to believe that there should be such a thing as Revelation, of which we shall speak more at large anon; and all Revelations [Page 89] are so little to be comprehended by us, that a man even of a good understanding will be oblig'd to believe an absurd one rather than none. Besides, the Ancient Grecian Poets knew no other Religion than the Grecian Revelation. For they had neither any clear Idea of one Supreme Independent Being, nor any tolerable knowledge of the Law of Nature. For all the great Poets among the Grecians flourish'd before the Doctrine of Socrates was establish'd in the world, and before that establishment they had neither any certain knowledge of the True God, nor any tolerable notion of the Law of Nature. For had there been that, there would have been a system of Morality; but Socrates was the first who introduc'd Moral Philosophy into that part of the world.
And here the Mythologists may pretend as long as they please, that the Ancient Grecian Poets, by the number of their false Gods, meant only the different notions of the true. 'Tis plain they had no clear and distinct Idea of one Supreme and Infinite Being: For either the Knowledge of the True God must be drawn from Reason or Revelation [Page 90] From Revelation they could not draw it, because their own Revelation was not true: And if they had the knowledge of the true God from any other Revelation, of which perhaps some of them might have heard imperfectly, why then that knowledge was imperfect, and could consequently not be clear: And to deduce that knowledge from Reason a man must use a great deal of attention and a great deal of application. But in those times the Corruption of the Grecians was too great, and their Passions were too strong, and the Exercise of Reason was too little known among them, to use either the attention or the application. But besides all this, there is something in the Ancient Grecian Poets that is repugnant to the Divine Nature, as is known to every one who has been conversant with them, and that alone renders all the Conjectures of the Mythologists Ridiculous.
And lastly, we have a great deal of Reason to be convinc'd that the Ancient Grecian Poets, I mean their Sacred Poets, did believe the Revelations they neated of, because as their Poetry flourish'd [Page 91] with their Revelation, so at last it fail'd with it, as we shall shew at large in the following Chapter.
CHAP. XIII. That the greater Poetry among the Graecians fail'd with their Religion.
AS Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and the Greater Ode, flourish'd with Religion among the Ancient Grecians, so together with Religion they fail'd. Now in order to the proving this, let us enquire how and when the Grecian Religion fail'd. We have said in one of the former Chapters, that the very spring and soul of that Religion was a constant continual Revelation, as it must necessarily have been of such a Religion as had no Morality. The Grecians worshipp'd many Gods, but before they worshipp'd them, they must believe that they were, and that they wanted neither power nor will to make them either happy [Page 92] or miserablc. Now of these two things they were convinc'd by Imaginary or pretended Revelations, as by Oracles, Visions, Dreams, Apparitions, and a thousand Fantastick Miracles. Now as long as these were in credit in Greece Polytheism went on Triumphantly. For they who had neither any insight into the True Religion, nor any tolerable habit of Reasoning, could never argue against matter of Fact as long as they made no doubt of the Truth of it. But as soon as the matter of fact came to be suspected, the Grecian Worship was undermin'd and weaken'd very considerably. To be convinc'd of this, we need only consider the Design of that Revelation, and the methods of carrying it on, and we shall find that that very Design, and those very Methods, made a certain way for its ruine. We have said above that no Religion which wants Morality can outlast its Revelation. For if Morality is not for it, it will be against it. And 'tis impossible to conceive how any Religion can be permanent, which has neither Miracles nor Human Reason to support it. Now it will be an easie matter to shew two things, first, that [Page 93] the Grecian Religion was without Motality; and secondly, that the very Design of it, and the Methods of carrying on that Design, introduc'd Moral Philosophy, by a very natural preparation.
The Design of the Grecian Religion, seems to me to be the providing for the Happiness of Mankind in this life, by drawing them out of a state of War, and making them live peaceably and securely among one another.
Says Horace, in his little Treatise De Arte Poetica. That is:
Now this Design he was to bring about by Religion, and Revealing the pretended will of the Gods. In order to which it was necessary to give the people [Page 94] such a Religion as might be agreeable to them in the condition in which they were. For otherwise they would not have hearken'd to it. Now, to give them a Religion that might be agreeable to them, it was necessary to give them such a one as might Maintain and Indulge their Passions. For, when the Grecian Worship was first instituted, the corruption of that people was so very great, that tho the Instituter had known the pure Law of Nature, he durst never have preach'd it to them, because their Passions were then too strong to receive it. Well, then Orpheus, or Linus, or whoever was the first Instituter of the Grecian Religion, was oblig'd to Maintain and Indulge the Passions, which I am apt to believe that he had no notion of suppressing, because he believ'd them all to be natural, and saw by experience that some of them contributed to the Pleasure and Happiness of Mankind. The Instituter then of the Grecian Worship was oblig'd to Maintain the Passions; but here lay the difficulty. The very crimes that kept men asunder, and in a state of War, were caus'd by some of those very Passions; what then was [Page 95] to be done in this case? Why, He was oblig'd to give those Passions a diversion, and to Indulge and Maintain the rest in the same condition in which he found them. As for example, Rage and Fury were the principal passions that maintain'd men in a state of War, and occasion'd the frequent Murders that were daily committed among them. Now these passions being grown up with them, and by consequence become habitual to them, it would have been very difficult, if not impossible, to suppress them. The first Instituter then of the Grecian Religion thought fit to give those passions a vent a less cruel way, and for that purpose in all likelihood instituted the Orgies of Bacchus. But the passions that were not utterly inconsistent with Society, he indulg'd in the condition in which he found them, as the Love of Women, Wine, &c. For, all that the Founder of that Religion could pretend to at first, was to bring men out of a greater confusion into a less, and not to reduce them to perfect order. Therefore, by shewing the Gods addicted to these passions, he encourag'd the people to cherish them, nay, [Page 96] to such an Intemperance as was repugnant to the original Law of Nature, nay, even to such a criminal degree, as was afterwards forbidden by the Laws of the Grecian States. For Intemperance in the use of Wine and of Women is contrary to the Dictates of Natures original Law, and yet was encourag'd by the Examples of some of their Gods, and Rapes and Adulteries and Incest were encourag'd by the same Examples at first, without any manner of Countercheck. For, either the System of the Grecian Theology was contriv'd at first without any Infernal Punishments, or they were only threaten'd to such crimes as were contradictory of civil Society. But afterwards, as Confusion lessen'd, and Order increas'd, and other Crimes were found to be more repugnant to Community, and so were forbidden by the Laws, the Magistrates in all likelihood oblig'd the succeeding Poets to threaten those who dar'd to commit them, with the punishments of another World, and so to make up the Infernal Scheme by Degrees. Thus have I endeavour'd to shew by the most probable Conjectures I could make, what was the [Page 97] original Design of Orpheus, and what method he took to compass it. But this is past all doubt, that the original Revelation of the Grecian Worship was Repugnant in several points to the primitive Law of Nature, and the succeeding Laws of the Grecian States. Now the method which Orpheus, or whoever was the first founder of the Grecian Religion, had taken, was maintain'd by succeeding Poets, only here and there, as occasion serv'd, they intermingled precepts of Justice and Temperance; which precepts are by no means to be look'd upon as parts of that Revelation, but as Remnants of Natural Religion and of the Law of Nature, which the Passions had not been able totally to suppress; or the efforts and strugglings of Reason, recovering from its Lethargy by Degrees. But the Poets and Law-givers could not give good precepts with a great deal of good success, as long as the Gods were believ'd to give ill examples. For the people look'd upon their Laws, unless they were inforc'd by Religion, as made only for the conveniency of life, and trangsgrest them whenever they could [Page 98] with Impunity; and the precepts scat ter'd up and down in the Poems wer but Impotent Imperfect efforts of Reason, and utterly unable to prevail against a continual constant Revelation, and a train of perpetual Miracles.
But now let us consider how this Design of Orpheus, or whoever was the first Instituter of the Grecian Religion, let us see how his Design in setting up his Theology, together with the Methods that were us'd for carrying it on by him and succeeding Poets, secretly prepar'd the way for its utter ruine. For the bringing men in a body together, and causing them more frequently to converse with one another, was the first occasion of the cultivating Humane Reason, and was consequently one preparation to the Introduction of Moral Philosophy.
And the Laws that were made by their Legislators, and the Precepts that were given by their Priests and Poets, in consequence of mens convening and conversing together, had been sensible encroachments upon the Revelation, as being manifest contradictions of it, if men had been us'd to reflect. At last, [Page 99] after Miracles and Revelations had prevailed for the space of almost eight hundred years, Socrates arose a most extraordinary man, who finding that the Precepts that had been scattered here and there, for the Regulation of Humane Life, and the Laws that had been given for the maintaining of Order in Communities, were all contradictory of the Revelation, but all agreeing perfectly with one another in the promoting of the same Design, which was the welfare of those who observ'd them, he had reason to enquire a little more narrowly into the Revelation, and to find that that was contradictory too of it self. For the Celestial and the Infernal Schemes of the Ancient Grecian Theology, seem'd so utterly inconsistent, that as I hinted before, they could never be conceiv'd to be both given ou't at a time; but it was reasonable to believe, that first the Celestial Scheme was invented, and afterwards the Infernal made up by degrees, in order to the serving the ends of Government. For not only the Infernal Deities rigorously punish'd those very Crimes, which the Celestial Gods had by their Examples encourag'd men to [Page 100] commit: but which is very odd to consider, their Hell seem'd to be fill'd with their Good Gods, and their Heaven with Devils. For whether we consider Plato or Proserpine, or the Judges, or the Fates, or the Furies, these were all of them very rigorous, and if you please inexorable; but then they were all of them very just, and foes and inexorabie only to guilt, and never any of them did any harm to Virtue. But at the same time that the Magistracy of Hell was compos'd of these honest upright Persons, Heaven on the other side was fill'd with all sorrs of Scoundrels, Rakes, Cuckolds, Bullies, Pimps and Bawds, and Cuckold makers; and no Virtue, and no Innocence could secure either Men or Women, from these Immortal Scowrers. Nay, men often suffer'd for their Temperance, and women for their Chastity. Socrates then considering the absurdity of the Revelation, and the Reasonableness of the Laws and Precepts that were distinct from it: The agreement of the latter among themselves, and the inconsistency of the former, cultivated the one, and contemn'd the other, and by the force of a strong and clear Reason [Page 101] and a long conversation with all sorts of people, brought the Exercise and Habit of reasoning into Request, and by little and little introduced a system of Morality, restor'd in some measure Natural Religion, and recover'd the Law of Nature. Thus Socrates gave the world a System of Morality, and tho his Contemporaries had not reason enough to make the discovery themselves, yet they had sense enough to approve of it when it was made, and to be convinc'd of the Truth of it, and consequently to be satisfy'd that the Revelation was false. For seeing that Virtue, and Order and Happiness, I mean in some degree, sprung from Philosophy, and Vice and Confusion and Misery from the Revelation; and seeing the Philosophy was establish'd by Inferences, which very naturally flow'd from these Intelligent Faculties, which, whatever power had form'd man, had given him to be his guide; and seeing the Philosophy and the Revelation contradictory one of another, they could not find in their hearts to believe that the Gods could be so unjust as to design the misery and confusion of Mankind, or so absurd as to give them two [Page 102] rules to walk by, that were contradictory one of another.
The establistment then of Moral Philosophy, was the ruine of the old Revelation, and so made way for a new. For after the death of Socrates, there started up several Sects of Philosophers, as the Cyrenaicks, Cynicks, Peripateticks, Epicureans, Scepticks, some of them immediately, but all within a hundred and fifty years, who were all of them mortal Enemies, not only to the Grecian Revelation, but to Reveal'd Religion in general: Tho in the last they certainly went beyond the design of their common Master Socrates, whose intention was to reform Revelation, and not to ruin it. And thus upon the establishment of Moral Philosophy, the credit of Oracles was diminish'd considerably, and Apparitions, Visions, &c. were contemn'd and exploded, and with them down went the greater Poetry: for you will find upon enquiry, that there was no Poet among the Grecians, who was born after the death of Socrates, who writ with a great Spirit.
CHAP. XIV. That the Greater Poetry among the Romans flourish'd and fail'd with their Religion.
THat the Grecians deriv'd their preheminence in the greater Poetry from Religion, may appear not only because they flourish'd and decay'd together, but because the Romans, whose Country was not like Greece, the Scene of perpetual Miracles, and who for a long time had no correspondence with Greece, had no such thing as the Spirit of Poetry among them, till they came to Conquer that Country.
For there was something in the Institution of the Roman Religion, as it was establish'd by Numa Pamphilius, that lessen'd the credit of Divine Apparitions considerably. [Page 104] 'Tis true, Numa founded his Sacred Establishment upon the Authority of Apparitions; but at the same time that he profest a familiarity with the Goddess Aegeria, and with the Muses, Plut. Life of Numa. he taught the people, that no resemblance of the Gods could be made, nor any likeness to represent them. The first was a Fiction to serve a turn in Politicks, and the latter a Truth that was contradictory of the other. And he had need have very gross people to deal with, that could swallow such a contradiction as that: For if no Form or Likeness of the Gods could be made, in what Likeness could they appear to him, or how could he distinguish Aegeria from the Muses, or the Muses from one another? I am apt to believe that Numa ventur'd this contradiction upon the grossness of the people with whom he had to deal, because the Truth and Fiction were equally necessary to his Ecclesiastical Policy. For as his Authority was grounded upon the Fiction, so it was strengthen'd by the Truth; for the appearing of the Immortal Powers to Numa had not made him so venerable, if such Apparitions had been common to [Page 105] every one. However, this contradiction was swallowed by the People, and Numa upon it, gain'd both his Points; for he was held to be a Sacred Person, and the Gods were esteem'd invisible. So that for a hundred and sixty years, says Plutarch, in the Life of Numa, there was no such thing as a Statue in their Temples, nor any talk of the Gods appearing to them. For how could those numerous Gods, whom they worshipp'd, with any possibility appear to them, since they could make no likeness of them. At length, the Superstition of the Grecian Idolatry by degrees encreas'd upon them; and having conquer'd Greece and Carthage, and so got an insight into the Arts, and leisure at once to cultivate them, the Grecian Religion, and the Grecian Arts grew up together among them; and of all the Arts Poetry was the first that was cultivated, because it was incorporated with their Religion. So that thereappears to me to be this considerable difference between the greater Poetry of the Grecians, and that which was among the Romans, that the Grecians deriv'd their Poetick Enthusiasm from the Miracles of their Religion, [Page 106] and the Romans borrow'd theirs in some measure from the Grecians.
So that the latter appears to me to be but a Copy as it were of the former. For, in effect, the Romans copied the Grecian Spirit: For we have shown from Horace the best of the Roman Criticks, that the Romans had no such thing among them till they had conquer'd Greece, nor had they any such frequent Impulses to Enthusiasm, and having the same Revelation at the time that they cultivated Poetry, that the Grecians had, they could hardly say any thing of their Gods or their Demi-Gods, or their Fabulous Transformations, that the Grecian Poets had not said before them. Besides, the most famous of the Roman Poets copied particular Grecian Authors, as Horace did Pindar, and consequently fell short of them in the freeness and flame of their Spirit, as Copies must necessarily do of Originals. And as for the Tragedies that were among the Romans, [Page 107] the best of them were directly translated from the Athenian Poets.
Since then the Roman Poets copied the Grecian Spirit, what is the reason that the Romans copied them so much better than we do? Why, first, they understood them better, and were more familiar with them, because then the Grecian was a living language, and Rome had a continual correspondence with Athens. Secondly, they had a more beautiful and more harmonious language to receive that Spirit; and lastly and chiefly, that Religion from which it was deriv'd made greater impressions upon them than it does upon us. And in order to the making that appear, we shall show that Poetry among the Romans flourish'd and fail'd with Religion.
Poetry began to be cultivated at Rome after the Conquest of Greece, and the end of the Thid Punick War.
[Page 108] Now nothing is more reasonable than to believe that the Grecian Superstition, from which the Spirit of their Poetry was deriv'd, was at a greater height at Rome, after the Romans had conquer'd the Grecians, than it could be before they had a continual correspondence with that people. But besides, Religion in the main may be thought to be in a very great esteem among the Romans about the time that they began to cultivate Poetry.
In order to the proving which, let us enquire what was the fountain and source of Religion among the Romans, and upon what it chiefly depended. The chief support of Religion among the Grecians was the constant Revelation by Oracles; but the Italian Oracles were more rare, and of much less renown. The prop and support of the Roman Superstition lay in their Divinations, as Machiavel in his Discourses observes. For, says Machiavel, they easily believ'd that that Divinity that foretold their felicity had the power to effect it. Machiavel had reason to be of that opinion. For, how could their Gods be thought certainly to foretell what it was [Page 109] not in their power certainly to effect? And thus did the Roman Worship depend in a very peculiar manner upon the credit of their Divinations. But now let us enquire in what credit the Divinations were when Poetry began to be cultivated; which, as we observ'd above, was after the third Punick War.
Now the credit of the Augurs and the Aruspices must needs at that time be very great with the Romans. For, since good Fortune alone inclines men to Devotion, and to confide in the Gods, as Aristotle has observ'd in the Second Book of his Rhetorick; what thoughts must not the Romans have of their Soothsaying, when they were not only arriv'd at such a Degree of Felicity, but believ'd that they ow'd all their greatness to the predictions of their Augurs. For they consulted them upon every important conjuncture, and particularly before they gave Battel. 'Tis true, they had sometimes fail'd, but where they had fail'd once, they had succeeded ten times; which is evident from the felicity of that Commonwealth. Now, if one lucky guess can support our ordinary Fortunetellers, who are wretched contemptible [Page 110] bonds, against a hundred that happen unfortunate, as we know by experience it does, in what height of Reputation must not the Soothsayers be, whose Order it self was held to be Sacred and August, when they had apparently succeeded ten times for their failing once. The Romans were now become the greatest people upon the Earth, and the Promise of Romulus reveal'd to Proculus, according to the Oath of the latter, that Rome should be the Mistress of Nations; that promise, which at first seem'd so very incredible, was now very likely to be accomplish'd. And the Romans believ'd that they had been conducted by the predictions of those Diviners, as it were by so many steps, to that height of Glory, at which they were in Triumph arriv'd, and from the which they had a certain prospect of becoming Mastersof the Universe.
Divination then being in very great credit in the age in which Poetry began to be cultivated, Religion, which had its chief dependance upon it, must consequently needs be in very great credit too, which was the thing that we design'd to prove.
[Page 111] But from what has been said it necessarily follows, that any one that should have brought Divination into disgrace, must have given a terrible shock to the superstition of the Romans. Now, about a hundred and threescore years after Poetry began to be cultivated, being introduc'd by Livius Andronicus, there flourish'd a great Wit, who not only baffled the whole Mystery of Divination in a learned Philosophical Treatise, but also publish'd an extraordinary Book concerning the Nature of the Gods, which alone, says Mr Harrington, in his preliminaries to his Oceana, was sufficient to overthrow the Religion of the Roman State. Thus Cicero contriv'd and effected himself the very Crime, for which he declaim'd against Cataline with so much vehemence, and undermin'd the most solid foundations of the Temples of the Roman Gods.
About the same time the Athenian Philosophers began to establish themselves at Rome. The Jews, whose Country Pompey had subdu'd, began every day to resort more and more to the World's Capitol. The Romans, thro an excess of ridiculous flattery, deify'd their deceas'd [Page 112] Emperors, which alone was enough to make the Roman Religion ridiculous; and Jesus Christ came into the world to introduce a new Revelation. What was the effect of all this upon the Roman Religion? A Superstition that had made such impressions on the minds of that people, and from which they imagin'd that they and their Ancestors had receiv'd so much benefit, could not be utterly overthrown in a moment. The Romans were so very pertinacious in their Principles, and had so much flegm and constancy in their constitutions, that the Grecian Philosophy, and the Doctrine of Cicero, requir'd some time to prevail. However, prevail they did; and with them the Christian Religion got ground, and the Pagan declin'd; and the Superstition and Poetry of the Romans gradually declin'd together. And the Declension of the Roman Poetry was attributed even by Petronius himself, who was a thorough-pac'd Epicurean, to the neglect of the old Theology.
CHAP. XV. Objections answer'd. Conclusion of the former part of the Work.
But here it concerns us to answer some Objections, which we easily foresee may be made. For if the Religion which the Romans borrow'd from the Greeks had so great an influence on their Poetry, and the two Treatises which Cicero writ concerning Divination and the Nature of the Gods, gave such a shock to that Superstition; How comes it to pass that Poetry not only flourish'd afterwards, but came to perfection in Horace and Virgil, which two were the greatest of the Roman Poets. In answer to which we shall endeavour to show as succinctly as we can, why Poetry flourish'd after the publication of those Treatises, and why it afterwards came to perfection. To satisfie the Reader why Poetry flourish'd afterwards, we need only repeat what we observ'd [Page 114] above, that the flegm and solidity of the Roman people, and perhaps their Politicks, suspended the effect of those Writings, and of the Doctrine of the Grecian Philosophers; and when they began to spread, it is reasonable to believe that they went downwards from the Patricians and the Roman Knights to the people, who in all probability were the last who were undeceiv'd. Now the greatest of their Poets, and especially Virgil and Horace, flourish'd within less than fifty years after the publication of those Treaties, and were most of them very meanly descended. So that they were brought up in the Religion of their Country, and had consequently when they came to write, the advantage of first Impressions, and their copying the Grecian Poetry, threw them upon the old Idea's. 'Tis true, some few of them were better descended, and were Roman Knights, but either they were too much Men of Pleasure, to dive into Philosophy, or too much Poets, to espouse a Sect that would not favour Enthusiasm.
But now let us enquire with the same brevity, for what reason Poetry, that derives [Page 115] its preheminence from Religion, came to perfection among the Romans, after these attacks had been given to the Religion of that State: In answer to which, we must put the Reader in mind, that there are three things which contribute to the perfection of Poetry. The first is Nature, which is the foundation and basis of all. For Nature is the same thing with Genius, and Genius and Passion are all one. For Passion in a Poem is Genius, and the power of exciting Passion is Genius in a Poet; to the raising of which, Religion, as we have shewn above, gives a very great Advantage. The second thing is Art, by which I mean those Rules, and that Method, which capacitate us to manage every thing with the utmost dexterity, that may contribute to the Raising of Passion. The third thing is the Instrument by which the Poet makes his Imitation, or the Language in which he writes. By Language I do not mean here the expression of any particular Poem, or the poetical Dialect which the Poet models himself; but the language of the Country in which he writes, and which he finds made to his [Page 116] hands. These are the three things that contribute to the perfection of Poetry; so that in any Age or Country, at whatever juncture Religion and Language and Poetical Art are in greatest force together, at that very juncture the Poetry of that Country is at its heighth. And this is the reason why Tragedy, which is a Poem of the growth of Attica, was at its height in the time of Sophocles, because then the Language was in perfection; the Art of Poetry, and particularly of Tragedy, had been extremely cultivated, and Religion as yet had power enough o're the minds of men to inforce the passions. But the greatest of these three is Religion, and the most prevalent towards the advancement of Poetry, as is plainly seen by the event. For, after that the Introduction of Moral Philosophy had ruin'd the establish'd Religion among the Grecians, Tragedy immediately lost its force, tho the language remain'd in perfection afterwards, and the Poetick Art was perhaps improv'd. Let us now examine how the Art of Poetry, and the Roman Language and the Roman Religion stood in the time of Augustus. The Art of [Page 117] Poetry, which had been introduc'd by Livius Andronicus, had now been cultivated for about two hundred years, but with a great deal of Interruption, caus'd by the violences of those times; and that it was at its utmost height in the time of Augustus, we have no great reason to doubt, because we find more of the Poetical Art in the single Aeneis of Virgil, than in all the rest of the Roman Poets together. For the Language, that it was then at its height, is agreed on by most; and tho some few may contend that it was somewhat declin'd from the purity which it had in the preceding age, yet it was certainly more Poetical in the time of Augustus, that is, more full, more sounding, more significant, and more harmonious. And as for Religion, we have already shewn that the effect of the Writings of Cicero was suspended by the flegmatick temper which was incapable of sudden Impressions, and perhaps by the politicks of the Romans. But that was not all. Religion had then more Force, more Authority and more Majesty, than it had had for some time before; and that by the example of the Emperor. No one can be [Page 118] ignorant what influence the example of a Prince has upon the minds of the people. Now Augustus was in his temper Religious even to Superstition. And tho during the violences of the Triumvirate, his Politicks had got the better of Nature in him, yet assoon as he had attain'd the Soveraign Power, Policy and Nature were reconcil'd, and both of them favour'd Religion; whereas the Age preceding had been an Age of continual Violences, and consequently not of so much Religion. The Roman Senate having got the Lands from the People had consequently got the Dominion, so that that famous Commonwealth was dwindled into an Oligarchy, and that Oligarchy was grown factious, as all Oligarchies must of necessity do; and the heads of those Factions were all of them labouring who should overthrow the State; so that they who were at the Helm of the State, neither were nor could appear good, because there was a necessity of their giving pernicious Examples. Augustus himself, notwithstanding his natural clemency, and his proneness to Superstition, was drawn in by Ambition to the committing all manner [Page 119] of violences in the beginning of the Triumvirate, and neither did nor durst appear what he was, till dividing the World between himself and Anthony, Policy and Nature were reconcil'd in him, and he was oblig'd to appear rather more Debonaire and Religious than he was by his Natural Temper, that the Extravagancies of Anthony appearing more hideous, compar'd with the Beauty of his Character, he might insensibly undermine his Rival in the esteem of the Senate and the Roman people, and alone command the Universe; and we may judge by this, what influence the Example of the Emperor had upon the Writers, that it not only prevail'd upon Virgil to make Piety one of the chief Ingredients in the Character of his Hero; who was design'd by the Poet the very Picture of Augustus Caesar, but engag'd him to incorporate so much Religion with the Action of his Poem, that it is the most Religious Epick Poem that ever was writ in the World.
And thus we have endeavour'd to shew as briefly as we could, that Art and Language and Religion were all of them in a great deal of force together in the glorious [Page 120] Reign of Augustus, and much more powerfully united than ever they had been before, and I hope I need not tell the Reader than ever they were in the Reigns of succeeding Emperors. And in shewing that, I have given the reasons why the Roman Poetry was then at its utmost height, tho I make no doubt but that a settled calm and a full tranquility, after a fierce and a tedious Tempest; and the elevation that might spring from the Remains and the Appearances of Liberty, and consequently the appearances of their being Masters of the Universe; and lastly, the never to be forgotten bounty of a magnanimous Prince, and the Emulation that must ensue upon it among so many extraordinary men, might all of them contribute to the advancement of Poetry.
But if the Writings that flourish'd aamong the Romans, and especially in the time of Augustus, receiv'd such advantage from the Roman Religion, that the excellence and greatness of their Poetry is chiefly owing to that, how comes it that Virgil is found in his Writings to have had so exalted a notion of God, as is utterly inconsistent with the Grecian [Page 121] Theology? How comes it to pass, that Lucretius and Horace are held to be thorough-pac'd Epicureans, on whom the Superstition that reign'd among their Country-men could have no manner of influence, and yet Horace allow'd to be after Virgil the greatest of the Roman Poets, and Lucretius, as Tasso is pleas'd to call him, a most Noble Versifyer.
'Tis true indeed, Virgil had an exalted notion of God, as we may see by several places in his works,
And that famour passage in the fourth Georgick,
And that in the sixth Aeneid,
Now this exalted notion of Jupiter, or the Supreme Being, Virgil had from the Writings of Plato; and the rest of the Gods and Goddesses a little modifyed, as they are in that Poet, in whom we wee see none of Homer's Religious extravagancies are exactly the Platonick Daemons. So that Virgil strictly adhering to the Platonick Sect, it follows that his Philosophy did very little harm to his Religion.
But to proceed to Horace. He was so very far from being a thorough-pac'd Epicurean, as some will obstinately have him, that he was of every Sect by turns, and chang'd his Philosophy and his Religion with his Humour, as a great many do besides him; and when that Humour inclin'd him to Libertinism, then he was an Epicurean; and whenever it turn'd about to Austerity, then he became a Stoick. That there are a great many such persons in the world, we may take the word of the Duke De la Rochefant.
That is,
[Page 124] Now that Horace was as likely to be byass'd by his humour, as any other person whatsoever, we have his own word Epist. 8. lib. 1.
So that, as we observ'd above, when this humour inclin'd him to Libertinism, then he was an Epicurean, and when the alteration of that humour enclin'd him to severity, then he became a Stoick [Page 125] or a Platonick, of which we have a notorious instance in the 34th Ode of the first Book.
'Tis true, Monsieur Dacier treats this as Raillery, but it must be fine Raillery that could never be found out to be Raillery, till above sixteen hundred years after it was writ. Horace has left enough behind him, to shew that he understood Raillery a great deal better than that comes to. But what will he say then to that remarkable passage of the first Epistle of the first Book.
But tho we should grant that Horace was always an Epicurean, yet that would make rather for than against us. For it [Page 126] is certain that he was educated in the Religion of his Country, as we observ'd above, and we know that the force of first impressions is great, and the copying the Spirit of the Grecian Poetry threw him upon those first Ideas.
And then this very Horace, whom some of the Moderns will so obstinately maintain to be a constant Epicurean; this very person, who, as he was the second of the Roman Poets, was one of their greatest Criticks, declares himself absolutely of our opinion, viz. that the Roman Poetry deriv'd its preheminence from the Roman Religion; for in his Satyrs, wherein he assures us he is no Poet, he intermingles none but Burlesque Religion, and that very rarely, with his Verses; in his Odes, where he knew that he was a Poet, Religion is every where seen, and Invocations, Apostrophes, Machines and Revelations abound in them.
But now a word or two to Lucretius. He writ before the publication of Cicero's [Page 127] Treatises, but then he was undeniably an Epicurean, and writ with a design to draw others over to his Sect. But in that very Poem, which he writ with a Design to overthrow Religion, he shews of what importance Religion was to Poetry; and the very Treatise which he begins with a Design to overturn the Worship of the Gods, that very Treatise he begins with the Invocation of a Goddess. And that Invocation is undeniably one of the noblest and most Poetical parts of his Book: So that Lucretius, to attain an excellence in Poetry, was contented to be guilty of a very strange absurdity in Philosophy. For, to what purpose does he Invoke the Goddess of Love? Why he Invokes her to inform him that he ought not to Invoke her, for that she does not hear him, and does not regard him, and has nothing at all to do with him.
For, let no one tell me here, that by Venus the Poet means only the generative [Page 128] Faculty of things. In short, Lucretius Invokes something, and Invocation is Adoration, and whatever is ador'd, must during the action by the Adorer be esteem'd a Deity.
But it is not only in his Invocation that Lucretius is pleas'd to have recourse to Religion. For after that, in the two first Books he has been taking a great deal of pains to destroy the belief of Gods and Providence, that in his third he may be very Poetical and very Sublime, he is forc'd to erect a new Divinity in the room of those whom he has been just subverting; And that is Nature; tho by what he makes her say in that Noble Prosopopaeia, we might very well mistake her for Providence.
So that we have not only the opinion of Lucretius on our side, but the example too. For, by having recourse to Religion in that very Philosophy that utterly disclaims it, he not only declares of what Importance he thinks it to be to Poetry, but has shewn of what Importance it really is, by succeeding so much better in those passages than in the other parts of his Book. But how could a Materialist, the Reader may say, draw [Page 129] any advantage from Religion? But Lucretius was made, not born a Materialist. He was bred in the Religion of his Country, and so had the advantage of, first impressions which are never to be defac'd, Lucretius, you may say, perhaps was very lofty and very Poetical where he had nothing to do with Religion. Indeed sometimes he was so, for I do not remember that I affirmed that there can be no Poetry without Religion, but only that Religion gives the occasion for the best, the greatest and the most Exalted, and it makes for my purpose sufficiently, that Lucretius is most Poetical and and Sublime where he is Religious. But where he is lofty in other places, we find him describing the great Phaenomena of Nature, and the higher a man rises and the nearer he comes to the first infinite cause, the nearer he certainly comes to Religion. Besides, where Lucretius is lofty and Poetical in Describing the great Phaenomena of of Nature, there we are sure to find him astonish'd for from whence comes his vehemence but from his astonishment, which may give us a Suspicion, that Lucretius was not so very assured of the [Page 130] truth of his opinion. For effects astonish no man. He who is astonish'd is moved by the secret causes of things which are two high or too deep for his comprehension. So that in places where there is no mention of Religion, Lucretius in some measure derives from that his Impetuous Golden Torrent of Verse, his vehemence and his Sublimity.
And thus I have inquired into the merits of the Ancients, with all imaginable Impartiality, and have attempted to shew that they had the advantage of the Moderns in the greatness of Poetry, but that they deriv'd it not from any Superiority of Faculties, or any external or internal advantage, abstracted from the nature of the subjects of which they treated, but only from incorporating Poetry with Religion.
THE ADVANCEMENT AND REFORMATION OF Modern Poetry.
PART II.
CHAP. I. That the Design of the True Religion and Poetry are the same.
IN the former part of this Treatise we attempted to shew, that the Ancient Grecians and Romans excell'd the Moderns in the greatness of Poetry, and [Page 132] so endeavour'd to oblige a very considerable party of Mankind; who admire the Ancient Poets to that degree, that they despair of their being ever equall'd, much less surpass'd by the Moderns; but then, that we might disoblige as little as we could another body of men, who have a high opinion of the Moderns, and are apt to think them upon an equal foot with the Ancients, we endeavour'd to prove that the Ancients deriv'd their preheminence, not so much from any real superiority that they had in themselves, as from the Subjects of which they treated; which Subjects were Sacred, either in their own nature, or by their manner of handling them. So that we have taken the most effectual course that we could possibly do, to remove the despair of [...] party, without too much exalting them▪ and to check the unreasonable presumption of the other, without too much depressing them; that so the one party might despond no more, and the other be secure and careless no longer; but tha [...] the Passions and Prejudices being removed, which have hitherto obstructed the Advancement of a Noble Art, and [Page 133] both Parties being reconcil'd and united in the common opinion, that the Ancients, tho they are exalted above us, are not beyond our reach, may immediately take fire, and contending with a Noble Emulation, push on the Art to some degrees of perfection, beyond what it has attain'd for these last fifteen hundred years. For, in the remaining part of this Treatise, we shall make it our business to convince the Reader, with all the brevity that the Importance of the affair will admit of, that the Moderns, by joyning Poetry with the true Religion, will have much the advantage of the Ancients in the main, tho they may fall short of them in some particular Poems.
But here it concerns us to answer an Objection. For perhaps the Reader may say, how can you maintain that the Christian Religion will be such a help to Poetry, when you have already in a former Treatise, made use of the Authority of Boileau, to shew that Christianity and Poetry were things that were inconsistent.
That is,
To which we answer; that we only made use of this passage in the foremention'd Treatise, to shew, that the Mysteries of the Christian Religion were not to be mix'd with Fiction, and consequently that it would be a hard matter to contrive Machines for an Epick Poem, upon a Modern Christian subject: [Page 135] and if Boileau means any thing more by the fore-mention'd passage, I shall endeavour to show that he is mistaken, and that there may not only be most exalted Poetry upon a Christian subject, without Machines and without Fiction, but that the true Religion is more favourable to Poetry than Paganism, or Philosophy or Deism; and I shall first enquire into the Reason of things, and afterwards see how it is supported by Matter of Fact.
First, I shall enquire into the Reason of the thing, and I make no doubt but to make it appear, that the nearer Poetry comes to Perfection, the more agreeable it is to the design of the true Religion, and that consequently Poetry is much more noble and more instructive, and more beneficial to Mankind than either History or Philosophy.
In order to the doing which, let us examine what the design is of the true Religion, and we shall find that not only the design of Poetry is the very same, but the very methods of attaining that design the same, as far as they can be humanely prosecuted; tho at the same time it must be confest, that Poetry, tho [Page 136] the noblest of all Arts, and preferable either to History or Philosophy, falls as short of the Excellence of the true Religion, as Human Invention does of Divine Wisdom.
The design of every Religion must be the Happiness of those who embrace it. Impostors, and all who set up new Religions for some politick ends, must always pretend this, or they will have no followers; for all men propound Happiness to themselves in every thing that they do; and the Reason why so few men are throughly and entirely of any Religion, is, because they are not sufficiently convinc'd that it will make them happy. But as even false Religions must pretend to make those who profess them happy, so the true one must really effect it: For the true Religion, whether it is innate or reveal'd, must certainly come from God, and must be given by him as a Rule and a Law for those who embrace it to walk by. Now all Laws that are made by good Law-givers, are made for the Happiness of those who embrace them. But God must be good, and consequently cannot make Laws, only because it is [Page 137] his Arbitrary will; no, he must make them, because he who best knows the nature of his own Creatures, knows that they will find their Happiness in being conformable to them. But if the design of all Religion must be to make men happy, why then that must be the true Religion that makes men the most happy: And consequently that must be the true Religion that has the Simplest Design, and the shortest and the surest. For the design of the true Religion being to make men happy, it must necessarily be of such a nature, as that all may be capable of it. For if a Religion, of which none but men of sense were capable, should be the true Religion, it would follow, that God had made most men Blockheads, and afterwards made them wretched for being so. But now let us examine what Religion that is, that takes the shortest and the surest, and most admirable method for making those who embrace it happy.
Since the design of all Religion must be to make men happy, and the only true Religion can effect that design, which all others in vain pretend to, because [Page 138] only the true Religion can come from God, who alone understands our natures, and alone knows that which the most will please us, it follows, that all who are not really of the true Religion, cannot be perfectly happy. Now this is certain, that Mankind has in all Countries and in all Ages, in all Places and at all Times, complain'd of the want of Happiness. Both Ancients and Moderns, Philosophers and the People, have agreed that Man was miserable. And this universal consent may be sufficient to shew, that the misery of Man is real, and not imaginary; besides, they have all, both Ancients and Moderns, Philosophers and Poets, Men of Sense, and the Vulgar, admirably agreed in describing it. They have all consented in this, that the misery of Man proceeded from a perpetual conflict that is within him, and from a discord continually reigning among the faculties of the Soul; a cruel War between the Passion, and Senses, and the Reason, while the Reason violently draws one way, and the Passions and the Senses another; the latter endeavouring still to be pleas'd by getting the upper hand of the former, [Page 139] and the former contending to be satisfied by subduing the latter, while neither party can gain an entire victory, but an eternal conflict remains; for tho the frequent advantages are on the side of the Passions, yet Reason rallies from time to time, and maintains a running fight.
And says Horace, 8th Epistle of the first Book.
But St. Paul, who knew the cause of this misery of Mankind, has given by much the most clear and lively Discription of it. Rom. ch. 7: ver. 13.
verse 15 For that which I do I allow not; for what I would that do I not, but what I hate that do I.
verse 16 If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good.
verse 17 Now then it is no more I but sin that dwelleth in me.
verse 18 For I know that in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing, for to will is present with me, but how to perform that which is good I find not.
verse 19 For the good which I would, I do not, but the evil which I would not, that I do.
verse 20 Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I, but sin that dwelleth in me.
verse 21 I find then a law, that when I would do good, evil is present with me.
verse 22 For I delight in the law of God after the inward man.
verse 23 But I see another law in my members, warring against the law in my mind, [Page 141] and bringing into captivity the law of sin which is in my members.
verse 24 O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death.
verse 25 I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord, so then with the mind I my self serve the law of God, but with the flesh the law of sin.
Thus has St Paul given a lively Description of the conflict that is in the Human Soul between Passion and Reason, because he very well knew the cause of it. The Philosophers felt the effect, and could describe it tolerably well; but being wholly ignorant of the cause, they took that to be a Defect in Nature, which is really an infectious Distemper; and here lay the folly of those people, in believing that they were capable of altering Nature; which puts me in mind of an Astrological King of Naples, who not being very well pleas'd with what he thought the System and Contrivance of the Universe, said that if God when he made the World would have vouchsaf'd to have consulted him, he could have given him very good advice. For, so by their Writings the Philosophers seem to have been of opinion, [Page 142] that whereas God had made Man Impious, they could make him Good, and whereas he had made him a Blockhead, they could make him Wise.
But the Philosophers not knowing the cause of the misery of Man, made very successless attempts towards the making us happy; for whether they supported the Reason against the Passions, all that they gain'd was to inflame the contention which they design'd to extinguish; and by rousing and exasperating the Parties make that War be carried on with vehemence, which perhaps was in a languishing state before; or whither they animated the Passions against the Reason, they could only mortifie what they could never vanquish.
Thus, whither they endeavour'd to live up to the Dictates of Reason, the Passions plagu'd them by a very violent resistance; or whether they endeavour'd to plunge themselves in sensual pleasure, they could no further oppress the Reason than they stupified the whole Man; and Remorse at last, like the Dragon that watch'd the Hesperian fruit, was never to be laid asleep.
[Page 143] But tho the Philosophers seem'd wholly in the dark, the Poets appear'd to have a glimmering of the Truth, as we may conclude from the Fable of Pandora and Epimetheus, whether they had it from old Tradition, or from a Noble Effort of Reason. For, says Mr Mede, If there were no Scripture, yet the unsampled Irregularity of our whole Nature, which all the time of our life runs counter to all Order and Right Reason, the woful misery of our condition being a scene of sorrow, without any rest or contentment, this might breed some general suspicion, that ab initio non fuit ita, but that he who made us Lords of his Creatures, made us not so worthless and vile as now we are, but that some common Father to us all, had drank some strange and Devilish Poyson, wherewith the whole Race was infected. Thus far goes Mr Mede, and I will make bold to add, by the leave of the Clergy, that this Suspicion might very well grow up to Reason and Certainty, tho' there were no Scripture. For that Man is miserable, experience assures us; but since Man is a Creature capable of [Page 144] Happiness, and one who knows his misery, Reason may tell us that Man could never be Created miserable, for that would have been contrary to the goodness of God, which is his Darling Attribute. Since God might as well Damn his Creatures for nothing, as he might Create them miserable. Man therefore was certainly created happy, and happy had he continued till now, if it had not been for his own fault, because it had been repugnant to the Justice of God, to punish Man for nothing. Thus far we may conclude then by the force of Reason, that Man has committed some horrible crime, the which has made him miserable.
But tho' the strength of Reason may reach thus far, yet it could never inform Man of the Nature of the crime, the committing of which has made him miserable, nor in what his original Happiness consisted. All that that we can guess by Reason is this, that since the misery of Man at present lyes in the conflict that he has within himself, and in the Civil War which is maintaind in his faculties, that his original Happiness consisted in the Peace and Agreement, [Page 145] and the Harmony that was between them, and that the Crime that caused his unhappiness, was in all likelihood something that naturally and necessarily broke that Harmony and that Agreement. And that we may see how far these conjectures agree with what our Religion says of it, let us make some enquiry into the account which Sacred Writ has given of it.
That tells us, that man was not in the beginning what he is at present. That he was created Holy, Innocent, Perfect. That his Creator fill'd him with the brightness of Knowledge, and with a luminous lively Intelligence. That he then had a strict dependence on his Maker. That he communicated the wonders of his Glory to him. That the Eye of Man then saw the Majesty of God; and that this Creature, so miserable now, was then most entirely happy. That he was unclouded, untroubled, impained, impassive, immortal. This is the account that our Religion gives us of the primitive state of Man. It tells us, how great his Knowledge was, [Page 146] his Happiness and his Perfection. Let us now see how much his Passions and his Sences were able to contribute to so much Felicity.
That Man in his Original State had Passions and great Passions, is certain. For without Passion there can be no Happiness, because there can be no Pleasure. Besides, it must be by a great Passion, or by great Passions that the first Man must fall. For by the weakness of his Reason he could not be lost: For if he had not had Reason enough to know that he ought not to have committed the transgression which ruin'd him, why then the ruin of Man had not been his own fault. Man therefore before the Fall had Passions, but being in a state of Perfect Felicity, he could consequently be subject to no Passions, which were not entirely consistent with that. He walked with God, and was then united to him, because the Creator was pleased to communicate himself in so great a degree to his Creature. Man therefore constantly contemplated [Page 147] God, not so much by the force of Reason as of Intuition, or a luminous lively Intelligence. God acted upon his mind, and he felt him as well as saw him, and consequently Admir'd, Lov'd, Desir'd, Ador'd him, and the result of these charming Passions was a Joy unspeakable. For the more they were exalted, the more his Reason approv'd of them; and since it knew that he could never suffer by them in that state of Happiness and of Immortality, it eternally exhorted him to perpetuate them, and told him that they could never be too high for their Glorious Object. So that man in his primitive State was always in lofty ravishing Transports. For Love, Admiration, Joy and Desire, those charming Passions were all that he knew, of which Blissful Love was always the chief. For God making Man a sociable Creature, gave him such a sort of a Happiness, as that the Felicity of one might produce that of another; and what could that be but an habitual Charity, or loving God and Man for the sake of God. Our blissful Sire enjoy'd [Page 148] a sincere felicity, and consequently could never know any trouble, nor any passion that had a mixture of trouble, as anger, sorrow, fear, and the like. Much less could Ambition find room in his breast, with Envy, Hatred, Pride, and Revenge, and the rest of those Turbulent passions that are utterly inconsistent with Charity.
And as his passions were always pleasing, so his senses were never shock'd: The happy creature converst with Angels, and saw the Majesty of his Maker. And for the Terrestrial Objects which were around him, and which were all subjected to his universal Empire, whenever he survey'd them, like his Creator, he found that they were always good; and as the Creatures never were Disobedient, he was never Displeas'd with them. For, as he had neither fear nor knowledge of suffering, Antipathy, Aversion, Horrour, and the like, were things that he never knew, which in this woful state of misery, are so often Nature's secret Intelligencers, to advise us of approaching harm. Thus all the Faculties were always pleas'd, and man was bless'd unspeakably.
[Page 149] But the result of this perfect Harmony, was not only continual Happiness, but unclouded Knowledge and Immortality. For, as from the Agreement of the vital Faculties, and their concording motions, Spirit and Health and pleasant Ease, and vigour of Sense proceeds; so from the Harmony of the Rational and Animal powers proceeded a luminous lively Intelligence, and a blissful Immortality. For pleasure was the result of that Agreement, and since Death can only come by pain, he who is in a state of perpetual pleasure, must by consequence be Immortal.
But Man alas was unable to support so much Happiness without Presumption. He form'd the Design of growing Independant, of shaking off the government of him who made him, and finding his felicity apart from God. This made him conceive the Horrible Crime, of Diverting his affections from him who alone was worthy of them; to things that were form'd so many degrees inferiour to him: and that which made the unpardonable enormity of that crime was this, that when God had created him with an ardent desire of Happiness, [Page 150] and had created him of such a nature, that his full and his perfect Happiness lay in his strict dependance on him, and had given him a clear understanding to know this; that, I say, made the unpardonable enormity of his Crime, that, contrary to this Nature, and this Desire, and this unclouded Knowledge, he revolted and fell off from God, and by the suggestion of his greatest enemy, tax'd him at once with folly and envy, in believing himself capable of finding and enjoying a greater felicity than what his Maker design'd for him. And thus Mans fatal Original Sin, whether the business of the Tree of Knowledge is Literal or Allegorical, consisted in his horribly diverting his affections from his God to the Creatures. And thus the Harmony of his Intellectual and Animal powers was very miserably broke. For Reason disapprov'd of the unworthy objects that Man had chosen for his Passions, and the Passions being natural and congenial to the Soul, could not be idle, and Man could not reduce them to their primitive object. For God had abandon'd him to himself, and how should Man of himself approach Infinity?
[Page 151] And now the blissful Time was no more, when Man was only touch'd with transporting Passions. And now the force of those Charming Passions was continually curb'd by Reason, which utterly disapprov'd of their objects; and a thousand vexatious ones sprung up among them, like cockle to choak the vital seed, and which were partly the result of present misery, and partly of past felicity.
Besides, the Sences partook of the same Disorder that had seiz'd the Passions; and they that during his state of Innocence, were always pleas'd with the approbation of Reason, and were ne're Disturb'd, now either betray'd him to Concupiscence, or were shock'd at their several objects. His Eye and his Ear, those noble ministers of the Understanding, were no longer charm'd with the voice of God, and the glorious presence of Angels; and were either too much engag'd by the Terrestrial objects around them, or disturb'd in despight of Reason. The Creatures whom God had furnish'd with instinct sufficient for the care of their preservation, in their Degenerate Monarch beheld [Page 152] their Enemy. They gladly obey'd him during his Innocence, as Loyal Subjects do a good King, but when he grew wicked he grew a Tyrant, and they at the same time turn'd Rebels. From hence Aversions, Horrors, Antipathies, and Fear and Hate and Rage sprung up in them; and Man was got into a state of War with all the inferiour Creatures, who of his Humble Vassals before, were now his Potent Enemies. Both Parties were on their Guard incessantly, always dreaded, and always terrify'd.
And thus the Harmony of the Intellectual and Animal powers was dissolv'd by Original Sin. And the Ignorance of this, caus'd all the blunders of the Philosophers. They knew very well, that the Combat between the Reason and Passions caus'd the misery of Man, but they never dreamt of reconciling the difference, because alas they never thought that the parties had once been friends. All that they aim'd at, was to put an end to the conflict, by destroying one of the parties, and so some of them thought of stifling the Reason, and others of suppressing the Passions.
[Page 153] But the folly of these two Designs was equally great, because they are attempts at things that are equally Impossible. For as long as Man is Man he must have Reason, and as long as there is Reason there will be Remorse, which will rally from time to time, and be a check upon the exorbitance of the Passions. And tho Remorse could be entirely extinguish'd, as I believe it never can, yet Reason would be sure to make its Declaration another way, and that is by our inconstancy in pleasure, and our want of variety.
Nor is the folly less of endeavouring to suppress the Passions, for either they must be wholly suppress'd or restrain'd; But all the Passions being natural, in the condition in which Man is now, none of them can be wholly suppress'd without destroying the Man, nor can some of them be so much as moderated, without maintaining constantly in the soul a very violent conflict, because they were perfectly unrestrain'd in their original Natures.
The Passions are either natural and congeneal to the Soul, or accidental: These first are those which are pleasing [Page 154] to it, as Love, Joy, Desire, and with these the first Man was created, for Man was created Happy; but without these Passions there can be no Happiness. The accidental Passions, as Anger, Envy, Indignation, and Desire of Revenge, are those with which Man at the first was not created, for they all include Misery, and he was created Happy. They were all the result of the fall, which brought woe to the Race of Men. Man is indeed capable of restraining these last, because they all of them include Misery, and he retaining a vehement desire of Happiness, tho joyn'd to an impotence of attaining it, is by that very Desire capacitated to struggle with apparent Misery. But it must needs be a hard contention when we pretend to moderate the first, because there is something within us that secretly tells us they are necessary to our Happiness; and the conflict must needs be violent, when we strive against our own Happiness. Besides, they are as natural to the Soul as Reasoning, and the result of that; and a Reasonable Creature can no more be without Admiration, Love and Desire, than it can be without Thinking, [Page 155] or without the appetites of Sence; and a Man can no more suppress the one by Philosophy than the other. He can no more take away Love and Desire by Reasoning, than he can satisfie Hunger and Thirst with a Syllogism. All that he can arrive at, is either to conceal those Passions, as he may do his Appetites, or to refuse to act in consequence of them, as he may in consequence of Thinking, or of Sensual Appetites. Or lastly, He may weaken these congeneal Passions by Mortification, as he may do his Appetites or his Reason. For a Distemper weakens the whole Man, and Mortification is a Distemper in effect at least. But when the man is in health, and his Sences vigorous, and his Reason piercing, these Appetites too will be strong. And the more powerful the Reason is, the stronger will be the Passions: And therefore the attempt to suppress these was folly in the Philosophers. For these Passions are the pleasure of the Soul, which cannot struggle with success against felicity. The cause of their mistake was this; Some of them, as for example, the Stoicks, thought that Reason disapprov'd [Page 156] of the Passions, when she only dislik'd the Objects; whereas the Cyrenaicks on the other hand thought that Humane Nature allow'd of the Objects, when it did nothing but approve of the Passions.
And this may serve to shew the folly of Deism as well as it may of Philosophy. For Deism pretending, like Philosophy, to combat all the Passions, must be founded on the strength of Reason. But a Religion founded on the strength of Reason, cannot be the true Religion. For the true Religion must be sent from God, for the Happiness of Mankind, and of that Religion all must be capable, as we have shown above. But of a Religion founded on the strength of Reason, and whose proofs must of consequence be deduc'd from a long train of consequences, all men are not capable, for every Religion must have proofs, and all men are not capable of the proofs of such a Religion as that. As for example: before a man can be a Deist effectually, he must be convinc'd of the being of a God by Reason, and must be convinc'd by the same Reason that the World is govern'd [Page 157] by God. But to be capable of the proofs that Deism gives of those two points, a man must either have a very strong Reason, or a very good education, whereas not so much as one in forty of Mankind has either. But all are capable of the proofs of Revealed Religion: For by proving the Divinity of the Revelation, the Doctrine is proved in course. Now the Divinity of the Revelation must be prov'd by Miracles. But Miracles are proofs of which all men are capable, because they speak to the Passions and appeal to the Sences. Since therefore the true Religion must be design'd for all; and all men are capable of the proofs of Reveal'd Religion, whereas not one in forty is capable of the proofs of Deism, it follows that a Religion that is not Reveal'd cannot be the True Religion.
Besides, no Religion can be the True Religion that is insufficient to answer the ends of Government. But a Religion that is not design'd for all, can never answer the ends of Government. And therefore Deism cannot be the True Religion. For there are but two things that can restrain mankind, and keep [Page 158] them within the power of Law; Religion, and sense enough to know their real Interest. But we have already made it appear above, that whoever wants good sense cannot be restrain'd by Deism.
That Deism is insufficient to answer the ends of Government, may be further plain from matter of fact; for it would be an easie thing to convince the Reader that there never was any tolerable Government in the World without a Reveal'd Religion; and that the Governments that have been most Renown'd upon Earth, flourish'd with their respective Revelations, and with them decay'd, as the Israelites did with their Prophets, the Grecians with their Oracles, and the Romans with their Divinations; so that either the True Religion can be in the World without order and without peace, or Deism cannot possibly be the True Religion.
Again, either that can be the True Religion, which can contribute nothing even to the Happiness of those who embrace it, or Deism cannot be the True Religion. For Deism contributes nothing at all to the Happiness even of [Page 159] those who are capable of it, because that by combating and resisting the Passions, it maintains the War of the Faculties, instead of appeasing it.
Thus we have shewn that the Design of the True Religion must not only be to make men Happy, but must effectually do it; that the Philosophers indeed had that Design, but blunder'd in the execution of it; and by pretending either to set up our Passions above our Reason, or our Reason above our Passions, only maintain'd an eternal conflict in the breasts they design'd to ease; that the Deist does the very same thing, by his endeavours to exalt Reason by depressing the Passions. Let us now shew how the Christian Religion exalts our Reason by exalting the Passions, and by a plain and a short, but a most admirable Design, restores the Harmony of the Human Faculties, and the Felicity of the first man.
For, after that Christianity has gain'd its professors, by proving after the most plain and simple manner all that is necessary to be believ'd in it; that is, by Miracles attested by unexceptionable Witnesses, it gains its end, which is the [Page 160] Happiness of its believers, in so plain, so sure, and so short a way, that the way to Happiness and the end is but one and the same thing, and differs only in Degree. Set your affections on things above, and not on things below, says the Apostle, Coloss. 1. 2. That is, Do but earnestly desire of God to incline your affections to him, their primitive object; Do but desire it, and he will incline them, and the great business of Religion is done, the Harmony of the Human Faculties restor'd, and the Felicity of the first man in some measure at least renew'd. Nay, the way is shorter and plainer even than this. For, Do but earnestly desire of God to give you Charity, and he will give it, and with that give every Virtue. For, to shew how plain, how short, how admirable, the Design is of this Divine Religion, Love, which is but a single Passion, and the most pleasing of all the Passions, comprehends all its Duties and all its Felicity. St Paul has given an admirable reason why it comprehends all its Duties; for Love, says he, worketh no ill to his Neighbour, and is therefore the fulfilling of the [Page 161] Law. And that it is inclusive of all its Felicity, may be concluded from hence, that Charity gently restraining those tumultuous Passions which disturb and torment the mind, exalts all the pleasing affections which are natural and congeneal to the Soul, and exalts the very Reason of Mankind, by exalting those charming Passions. For Reason being troubled no more in its Functions, by the painful conflict which it maintain'd before, is free to discern and distinguish Divine Truth, and now employs the exten and stretch of its power, in confirming and augmenting the force of those aspiring Passions, which, while they were directed to mortal objects, it esteem'd its mortal Enemies. And as the Reason rouzes and excites the Passions, the Passions, as it were in a fiery vehicle, transport the Reason above Mortality, which mounting, soars to the Heaven of Heavens, upon the wings of those very affections that before repress'd the Noble Efforts that it made to ascend the Skies.
And thus we have seen how the Christian Religion reconciles Passion to Reason. And while the troublesome [Page 162] Virtues of Deists and old Philosophers, are employ'd in restraining those charming Passions, which are so natural to the Soul of man, and which, rightly directed, constitute all its Felicity, the Cardinal Virtues of the true Religion, as Faith, and Hope and Charity, are exalted Passions themselves. And as Christianity confirms and cherishes all the pleasing affections, which are to the Soul, as so many delicious Friends, and so many dear Relations, the very conversation of which is sufficient to make it happy, it gently appeases the tumultuous Passions, accidental uneasy guests that interrupt its pleasure.
But the Christian Religion restores the harmony of the Human Powers to a greater degree than this, and provides even a pleasure of Sence that may be highly approv'd of by Reason. For though the Christian in this life is not allowed to expect that in a Soveraign degree, yet, since there is no sight so charming to the Eye, and no Musick so harmonious to the Ear, as the voice and looks of those whom we love, the Christian Religion by commanding us, 1 Epist; of St Pet. ch. 1. v. 2. To love one [Page 163] another with a pure heart fervently, has provided in an admirable manner for the delight of those noble Sences.
Thus the proofs ofChristianity are short, and plain, and its Doctrine that leads to Felicity admirably short and unperplex'd, whereas the proofs of Deism are abstruse, (I mean to the People they are abstruse,) and we have shewn that the true Religion must be designed for all, and the method that it takes to make us happy, tedious and vexatious. And this is extreamly remarkable, that the very morality which in Deism and in Philosophy is prov'd, at the first perhaps with difficulty, and perhaps at the last obscurely; and when it is prov'd, obey'd with pain, because it shocks all the pleasing Passions which so firmly inhere to the Soul, that very Morality in the Christian Religion is clearly and easily prov'd to all, because the Divinity of its Revelation is clearly and easily prov'd, and when it is prov'd is pursu'd with pleasure, because it is every part of it dictated by Love, the best and sweetest of all the Passions.
And thus Christianity performs in a moment, what Philosophy and Deism have for Ages in vain attempted. For God can touch the Heart in a moment, [Page 164] and a short contrition makes way for a long felicity. And the wisdom of God seems loudly to declare the simplicity of his great design, by the persons whom he chose to execute it. For had there been any thing perplex'd or difficult in it, Men of Choice Education and great Parts, would have been chosen to expound it. But it was so easie, so clear, so agreeable to the Nature of Man, whether consider'd as an Individual, or a Member of a vast Society, (for Charity, that makes the Happiness of particulars, tends to the felicity of the whole community; and whereas Justice is satisfied with the restraining men from the doing harm, Charity, the most active and the best natur'd of all virtues, engages him to the doing good; and there can be no such prevalent motive for the making any one happy, as because we love him) the design, I say, of this Holy Religion, is so agreeable to the nature of man, that God made choice of twelve poor Fishermen, or something more vile to human regard than Fishermen, to propagate its Divine Doctrine. And to whom did they preach it? Not to Brutal Savages, as [Page 165] Orpheus did his pretended Revelation before them, nor to bloody Barbarians, as Mahomet did his Fanatick Enthusiasm afterwards, but to the most civiliz'd and knowing Nations of the World, when Learning was at the greatest heighth amongst them; to the Provinces of the Lesser Asia, who were the most subtle people on the Earth; to Greece the great Inventress of Arts; and to Rome the Mistress of Nations: to Rome, that with her victorious Armies, had even then, just then subdu'd and civiliz'd the barbarous World. And twelve poor ignorant contemptible Fishermen, who were dispis'd by their own Nation, and whose Nation it self was almost universally despicable, in a very short time establish'd this Doctrine in the midst of these knowing Nations; nay, and establish'd it without Arts, without Eloquence, without Reputation, without Power, and downright Innocence and Simplicity prevail'd o're the subtilty of the Asiaticks, the vigorous lively penetration of the Greeks, and the profound solidity of the Romans. So that Knowledge blushing was instructed by Ignorance, and the vain efforts of all human [Page 166] Wisdom stood confounded by the foolishness of Preaching; And the Apostle had a great deal of reason to exeult in the first Ep. to the Cor. v. 20, 21. Where is the Wise? Where is the Scribe? Where is the Disputer of this World? Hath not God made foolish the Wisdom of this World? For after that by the Wisdom of God, the World by Wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of Preaching to save them that believe; and v. the 27th, ibid. God hath chosen the foolish things of this World to confound the Wisdom of the Wise. So that this Religion, propagated under these strange disadvantages, by Ignorance against Philosophy, by Simplicity against Arts and Eloquence, by Weakness against all the opposition of Power, by abject and contemptible persons, against the noise and renown of Wisdom, by men under poverty and persecution, against all the Flatteries of Imperial Tyrants; this Divine Religion, embraced with danger, boasted of in sufferings, and taught in Martyrdom; this Religion, I say, thus wonderfully propagated, must needs have had something in the design of it, when it was but never [Page 167] so little attended to, that is extreamly agreeable to the Nature of Man, and must be better adapted to make a Creature, compounded of Passions and Reason Happy, than either Power or Place, or Worldly Prosperity, or Fame, or Philosophy, were before. But what could be so agreeable to the nature of a Creature compounded of the foresaid Faculties, as that which reconciled those Faculties which neither Fame nor Philosophy, Riches nor Power could ever be found to do, or how could twelve poor wretched Fishermen, without education, without parts, comprehend what the worlds great Sages could never find out, or how could they consent against apparent interest in making it known to the world, if they had not been instructed and compell'd to act by something that was more than Human?
And thus we have shewn, How that the Design of all Religion must be to make men Happy, but that the True Religion must not only design it, but must effectually do it. And then we proceeded to shew, that the misery of man consisting in the conflict which is maintain'd within him, his Happiness [Page 168] by consequence must proceed from the Harmony which is in the Human Faculties; then we shew'd how that Harmony came to be broke, and how it was afterwards by the Christian Religion restored.
But now, as the end of every Religion must be the happiness of those who embrace it, so the design of every Art must be the very same, as has been always acknowledged by all who have enquired into the Nature of Art in general, or into the designs of particular Arts. And as the true Religion must not only propound the Happiness of its Professors, but must really effect it, and as that alone is the true Religion, which makes the best provision for the happiness of those who profess it; so that must be the best and the noblest Art which brings the greatest Felicity with it. But as the misery of man proceeds from the discord and those civil jars that are maintained within him, it follows that nothing can make him happy, but what can remove that discord, and restore the Harmony of the Human Faculties. So that that must be the best and the noblest Art, which makes the best Provision at the [Page 169] same time for the satisfaction of all the Faculties, the Reason, the Passions, the Sences. But none of them provides in such a Soveraign manner as Poetry, for the satisfaction of the whole man together. In some of them only Reason finds its account, as in Logick and Mathematicks. In some of them only Reason and Passion, as in the Ancient Eloquence, and that by no means in a Soveraign degree, for sometimes the Passions oppress the Reason, and sometimes Reason excludes the Passions. In others the Passions and the Sences are charm'd, while Reason finds little contentment in them. Thus Musick by its Harmony raises the Passions, at the same time that it pleases the Ear, and Painting by its touches moves the affections, at the same time that it charms the Eye. But in a sublime and accomplish'd Poem, the Reason and Passions and Sences are pleas'd at the same time superlatively. The Reason in the soundness and importance of the Moral, and the greatness and justness of an Harmonious design, whose parts so beautiful, when they are considered separately, become transporting upon a view or the whole, while we are never weary of [Page 170] contemplating their exact proportion and beautiful symetry, and their secret wonderful dependance, while they are all animated by the same Spirit in order to the same end. The reason further finds its account, in the exact perpetual of Servance of Decorums, and in beholding itself exalted by the exaltation of the Passions, and in seeing those Passions in their fiercest transports, confin'd to those bounds, which that has severely prescrib'd them. That the Passions must find their account in Poetry, we have endeavour'd to prove in the former part of this Treatise, but we cannot forbear taking notice of this, that those very Passions which plague and torment us in life, please us, nay, transport us in Poetry. That the noble senses find their account in an accomplish'd Poem, no one who has read one, can a moment doubt. Nor Corelli's Hand nor Syphace's voice, could ever to a judicious ear equal the Virgilian Harmony: Which has all the Mastery, with all the Air, and all the Sweetness, with all the Force, that the most delicate Ear can require. Tho all his Numbers are always perfect, yet he never dwells upon any; and [Page 171] they which are in themselves so pleasing, delight us the more, because we are immediately forc'd to leave them for the perfection of some different Harmony. Nor is the Eye less satisfied than the Ear, For an Admirable Poet always Paints. and all his Pictures are always Beautiful: Let the real objects be never so odious, let them be never so dreadful, yet he is sure to paint them Delightful. For, tho sometimes a vigorous lively Imitation of Creatures that are in their natures noxious, may be capable of giving us Terror, yet Nature, by giving us a secret Intelligence that the object is not real, can turn even that Tormenting Passion to pleasure.
Thus Poetry, by restoring the Harmony of the Human Faculties, provides for the Happiness of Mankind, better than any other Human Invention whatever. And 'tis for this reason that it has always been so highly esteem'd by the greatest of men. They who have arriv'd at the being Masters of the Universe, have afterwards entertain'd the Ambition of becoming Poets; and after they have acquir'd a great deal of Fame by making whole Nations miserable, [Page 172] have aspir'd to the more charming glory of making mankind happy. 'Tis for this very reason, that this Delicious Art has had as many Confessors, if I may be allow'd to call them so, almost as Religion it self. 'Tis for this very reason, that so many have been willing to renounce all worldly greatness for it, and pleasure which attends on power, and have been contented to live poor and miserable, pitied by the wise, and contemn'd by fools, persecuted by fortune, and hated by one another.
For, no man leaves pleasure but for greater pleasure, and he who forsakes all the world for Poetry, must find a Happiness in that, which all the world could not supply him with. Poetry seems to be a noble attempt of Nature, by which it endeavours to exalt it self to its happy primitive state; and he who is entertain'd with an accomplish'd Poem, is for a time at least restor'd to Paradice. That happy man converses boldly with Immortal Beings. Transported he beholds the Gods ascending and descending, and every Passion in its turn is charm'd, while that his Reason is supreamly satisfied. Perpetual Harmony attends his [Page 173] Ear, his Eye perpetual Pleasure. Ten thousand different objects he surveys, and the most dreadful please him. Tygers and Lyons he beholds like the first Man with joy, because like him he sees them without danger. But nothing that is meerly Human can be on all sides perfect. The Delight which Poetry gives is neither perpetual, nor are all men capable of it. Religion alone can provide man a pleasure that is lasting, as it may be universal. Poetical fire neither always burns in us, nor can it always warm us, but Charity, like the sacred flame that was the guardian of the Roman Empire, if 'tis with care maintain'd like that, becomes like that eternal.
But now since the design of Poetry, and the very method of prosecuting that design, as far as it can be humanly prosecuted, is the same with that of the True Religion, since the very thing that they both propose is to exalt the Reason by exalting the Passions, and so make Happy the whole Man by making Internal Discord cease, I appeal to any one whether Poetry must not agree better with that Religion, whose Designs are the very same with it, than with Paganism [Page 174] or Philosophy or Deism, whose Designs have been shewn repugnant to it. In short, when the Pagan Theology was brought nearer to the Christian Religion, by the Philosophy of Plato; as it was modelled by Virgil, it became the fitter for Poetry. For Virgil saw with an admirable judgment, not only that the Reason must find its account in Poetry, as well as the Passions and the Sences, but that the Reason of Mankind, in the time of Augustus Caesar, when Moral Philosophy got ground every day in the World, would not be satisfied at so easy a rate, as it was when Homer writ; or at least that it would not long be satisfied at so easy a rate; which oblig'd him to model the Grecian Revelation by the Philosophy of Plato, and that got Virgil the preheminence over Homer. For since the design of every Art is to make men happy, and that is the best and the noblest Art which makes the best provision for the happiness of Mankind, and nothing can make man so happy as the reconciling him to himself, which can be no way so effectually done, as by making all the Faculties find [Page 175] their satisfaction together, it follows that that must be the noblest Poetry, where the Reason, the Passions and Sences, are all of them pleas'd, and pleas'd in the highest degree together. And therefore tho we should be obliged to grant what some will pretend with so much obstinacy, and which I can never believe, that the Passions and the Sences find their account in Homer better than they do in Virgil, yet since they find their account too in Virgil, in a very great degree, and Reason at the same time is satisfied, whereas it is horribly shock'd in Homer by the extravagance of his Theology, it follows that Virgil for that Reason is certainly to be preferred to Homer; tho this is to be said in the behalf of the latter, that he writ to the people of his own age, in which the Reason of Mankind was satisfy'd at an easier rate.
And therefore when I say that Virgil is to be preferr'd to Homer, I mean that he is so in regard to us, because he is capable of giving us a greater pleasure than Homer, but I do not pretend at the same time that Virgil is capable of giving us a greater pleasure than Homer [Page 176] gave his Contemporaries. As likewise when I affirm, that the Moderns, by joyning Poetry with the True Religion, will have the Advantage of the Ancients, I mean only in regard to us, to whom they will give a greater pleasure than the Ancients can do, but not a greater than the Ancients gave their Contemporaries. In short, if Virgil was forc'd to model his Grecian Revelation by Platonism, that he might please more effectually even in his time, when that Revelation as yet prevail'd; I think we may very well conclude that in our time we ought to fling it out of our Poetry, when it has been for so long time utterly exploded, and contemn'd by the very Boys. Thus the Grecian Religion and the Modern Poetry can agree but very indifferently, because the Reason is shock'd by it. And if Reason is shock'd by the Religion which is joyn'd with the Poetry; by the Religion, I say, which gives the force to the Passions, as we have shewn above; I would fain know how the Passions can very well find their account. I know indeed very well, that a Poet, by the force of a strong Imagination, may enter into the Grecian [Page 177] Religion when he sets himself to write, and transport himself to the Age and Scene of his Action; and consequently may draw a great deal of advantage from the Religion of that Country, and of that Age, in order to the being mov'd; and if the Poet is extremely mov'd himself, why they who read him must be mov'd in some measure too; but whether the generality of Readers can be so very much mov'd, as if the Passions deriv'd their Force from a Religion that is more familiar to them, I have a great deal of reason to doubt: But if Reason cannot find its account in the Grecian Religion joyn'd with the Modern Poetry, much less would the Passions find their satisfaction in Deism or the Ancient Philosophy. The Christian Religion alone can supply a Poet with all that is Sublime and Majestick in Reason; all that is either soft or powerful, either engaging or Imperious in the Passions; and with all the objects that are most admirable to the sences, and consequently most delightful; as shall be shewn at large in the following Chapter.
CHAP. II.
WE shew'd in the former part of this Treatise that the Ancients excell'd the Moderns in the greatness of Poetry, because they incorporated Poetry with Religion; and we pretended to shew in this Second Part, That by joyning Poetry with the true Religion, the Moderns in the main will have the advantage of the Ancients. In order to the proving which, we shew'd in the first Chapter, that the design of the Christian Religion was agreeable to that of Poetry; whereas the Designs of Paganism and Deism and Philosophy were not agreeable to it. We shew'd that the true Design of Poetry, as well as of the Christian Religion, was to please the Reason, the Passions and the Sences at the same time. For we shew'd in the former part of this Treatise, that Passion, whether ordinary or Enthusiastick, is the principal thing in Poetry; and nothing is more certain than that the more [Page 179] the Sences are stirr'd, and the more the Reason at the same time is satisfied, the more strongly for the most part the Passions of Reasonable creatures are mov'd.
Now in this Chapter we pretend to shew, that the true Divine Poetry has the advantage of the Pagan Poetry; that it satisfies the Reason more, at the same time that it raises a stronger Passion, and that it entertains the Sences, and especially the Eye, more delightfully; and we pretend to give undeniable instances of it, both from Sacred Writ, and from one of the Fathers, and from one of our own Poets.
There is certainly to subject so great as the power of God, and both Homer and Virgil have handled it to admiration. The latter says of Jupiter, who presided at the Council of the Gods, in the Tenth Book.
[Page 180] And thus Mr Dryden has made it English.
But Virgil has handled this subject still after a greater manner, in the first of the Georgicks. And that the Reader may have all the force of it set before his Eyes, we shall show him how 'tis prepared, and begin a little before it▪
And Mr Dryden has made it English after so noble a manner, that he has done all the Justice, that our Language would allow him, to the admirable original.
But now let us see how the Psalmist has treated the same subject in the eighteenth Psalm, and we shall find, that the greatness of Virgil is littleness compared to his.
verse 6 In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cryed unto my God: He heard my voice out of his Temple, and my cry came before him, even into his Ears.
verse 7 Then the Earth shook and trembled, the foundations of the Hills also moved and were shaken, because he was wrath.
verse 8 There went up a smoak out of his Nostrils, and fire out of his Mouth devoured, Coals were kindled by it.
verse 9 He bowed the Heavens also and came down, and darkness was under his Feet.
verse 10 And he rode upon a Cherub, and did fly; He came flying upon the Wings of the Winds.
[Page 184] verse 11 He made darkness his secret place; His pavilion round about him were dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies.
verse 12 At the brightness that was before him his clouds removed hail-stones and coals of fire.
verse 13 The Lord also thundered in the Heavens, and the highest gave his voice, Hailstones and Coals of Fire.
verse 14 Yea, he sent forth his arrows and scattered them, and he shot out lightnings, and discomfited them.
verse 15 Then the channels of waters were seen, and the foundations of the world were discovered, at thy Rebuke, O Lord, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils.
Now, in the first place, Reason finds its account better here than it does in Virgil; for the more amazing effects that we see of Divine displeasure, the more it answers our Idea of infinite wrath. But there is nothing that Virgil has said upon this subject, but what is much stronger in the Psalmist; and there are several things in the latter, which are by no means in Virgil. For example, how much stronger is the Hills also moved, and were shaken, because he was wroth, than that of Virgil.
Which only signifies the Thunders rending the tops of the Mountains; which any one may see is weak in comparison of what David says, That the very Mountains seem'd to have a sense of the Indignation of their Creator. Mr Dryden endeavour'd to add strength to this passage of Virgil:
But he too falls very much short of the force of the Psalmist; for he makes the Trembling of the Earth, and the Nodding of the Mountains, to be only the natural necessary effects of mechanical motion.
And that which satisfies the Reason the more here, raises the Passion more strongly, and entertains the sences the better, because there are more, and [Page 186] more amazing effects of the Divine pleasure. For how great, how lofty, how terrible is that; He bowed the Heavens and came down, and darkness was under his feet? How much stronger than that of Virgil, Ipse pater, &c. And how Poetical and how Dreadful is that. Then the Channels of the Waters were seen, and the foundations of the World were discovered; at thy Rebuke, O Lord, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils. How terribly is the Eye delighted here, which is a sence that the Poet ought chiefly to entertain; because it contributes more than any other to the exciting of strong Passion? And here I desire the Reader to consider, that there is more Terror here, both ordinary and Enthusiastick, and consequently more spirit in a faint Copy, nay, a Prosaick Copy, translated in the Imperfection of our Tongue, and by men who in all likelihood had no manner of notion of Poetry, than there is in Virgil's original. What force and what infinite Spirit must there not have been in the original Hebrew? Since these are thoughts that are so truly great, and so truly lofty, that they carry with them spirit and force and fire, through [Page 187] whatever head they pass, and whatever language; how admirable and inimitable must they not have been, in the hands of that Divine Poet, who knew how to shew them to the utmost advantage. The Character of Buchanan is by no means Elevation, but yet he is so exalted in this description, that he soars above Virgil, who is by nature lofty.
Now how much stronger and more Poetical is,
Than that of Virgil,
[Page 189] And how much weaker is,
How much weaker is this, I say, than
Where Buchanan shews the Mountains not only disjoynted with the terrible fright, and shaken from their very foundations; but every one of them roaring with Infernal Thunder, like Mongivell or Vesuvius. Besides that, in this passage of the Psalmist every thing is great and every thing is sustain'd, whereas in that of the first Georgick even the great Virgil forgets himself.
How poorly does the last Verse of the Triplet answer to the greatness of the other two?
But now if any one pretends here, that Virgil is describing only a common Storm, whereas David is describing the extraordinary indignation of God; to him I answer, that Virgil, to heighten that common Storm, shews it to be the effect of Divine wrath, and Divine wrath must at all times be Infinite. But to show the Invalidity of such an objection, I desire any one to produce any thing from the Grecian and Roman Poets, upon the same subject, that is any ways comparable to this passage of the Psalmist. For, as our Religion gives us more exalted notions of the power of an Infinite Being, than the Heathen Religion did to the Grecian and Roman Poets; it consequently produces a stronger spirit in Poetry, when it is manag'd by those who have Souls that are capable of expressing it.
[Page 191] I could produce a hundred passages more out of Sacred Writ, which are infinitely superiour to any thing that can be brought upon the same subject from the Grecian and Roman Poets.
And the only reason why I refuse to do it, is because it may be pretended, that the Writers in Sacred Writ had the peculiar advantage of Divine Inspiration, and that no consequence can be drawn from them in the behalf of the Moderns, who pretend not to the same advantage. And therefore I shall produce some instances of the preheminence of the Christian over the Pagan Poets; whose Authors cannot be pretended to have been Divinely assisted, in a more peculiar manner, than any of the Moderns may be. The first instance that I shall bring, shall be from the Hymn of St Ambrose, a Father of the Church, who lived in the third Century; a Hymn more exalted than either Orphens or Homer or Callimachus ever produced. I have given the former part of it a dress of my own; thro the which, tho perhaps it may appear disguis'd to the Reader, yet even thro that disguise, he may discern a Greatness, and a [Page 192] Beauty, that are not every where to be found.
Te Deum, &c. We praise thee O God.
The next Instance is from Milton, who in the seventh Book of the Paradice lost, has handled the subject of the Creation better than either Ovid or Virgil himself has done. Tho he is certainly above Ovid by the force of his own genius, as much as by the advantage of his Religion; but 'tis by the latter only that he excels Virgil, than [Page 201] whom I do not believe that any man can have a greater Genius. When I say that Milton excels Virgil, I mean that he does so sometimes both in his Thought and in his Spirit, purely by the advantage of his Religion. But at the same time I am very far from thinking that he so much as equals him either in the continual harmony of his Versification; or the constant of Beauty of his expression, or his perpetual exaltation. He writ in a Language that was not capable of so much Beauty, or so much Harmony; and his Inequality proceeded from his want of Art to manage his subject, and make it constanly great. For it would be an easie matter to prove that none of the Moderns understood the Art of Heroick Poetry, who writ before Bossu took pains to unravel the Mystery. But nothing can make more for my subject than to show that Milton, who lay under these vast disadvantages, very often excell'd, even the Prince of the Roman Poets, both in the greatness of of his Thought and his Spirit.
But first let us see how he surpasses Ovid, in his description of Chaos, and the Creation of the World from [Page 202] Chaos. And in order to that let us see the account that the Roman gives of it in the beginning of his Metamorphosis.
And thus Mr Dryden has translated it in the beginning of the third Miscellany.
Let us examine Milton's description of Chaos in the second Book of Paradice Lost, where he shews Satan and Sin and Death, taking a survey of it from Hells Gate.
[Page 205] Now I leave it to any Reader to judge, who has never so little discernment in these affairs, which of these Descriptions is most fine, most figurative and most Poetical. But now let us see how Ovid begins his account of the Creation.
And thus Mr Dryden has made it English.
But how poor is this beginning compar'd to the pompous preparative with which Milton ushers in his account of the same thing, in the seventh of his Paradice lost.
And 'tis plain, that Milton owes this Greatness and this Elevation to the Excellence of his Religion. How mean is
To Milton's description of the first great Fial.
How low is the formation of Earth and Sea in Ovid, compar'd to Milton's.
[Page 209] Let us now see Milton's account of this.
What an Image is here? and taken apparently from ourReligion, which teaches us the most exalted notions of God, and the immediate obedience of the Creatures to their Creator. But Milton goes on, and at the same time sets before us another wonderful sight.
[Page 210] But Milton goes on.
These three Verses are cold and flat, and inharmonious, for there can be no true Harmony in Numbers without Passion; but let us see whether the Verses that follow will make amends for them.
What an Image is here again, with which none but our own Religion could have possibly supply'd him!
Let us now examine Virgil's account of the beginning of the World in the sixth Eclogue, and see if we can meet with any thing that may be compar'd to these thoughts of Milton, which at the same time that they are wonderful are simple, and are naturally produc'd by the subject.
[Page 212] Which by Mr Dryden is thus translated.
And now any one may see how much Virgil's God is Inferiour to Milton's Angel. 'Tis true, I know very well that it may be urg'd in Virgil's behalf that he does not pretend to set down Silenus his Song, but only the principal heads of it; whereas Milton makes the Angel Raphael give an account at large of the [Page 213] Creation. I know this very well I say, but I am satisfied at the same time, that Virgil making Silenus proceed upon the Epicurean Hypothesis, if he had given never so full and artful an account of the Creation, could never possibly have equall'd Milton; for that Hypothesis runs directly counter to those lofty Thoughts, and those noble Images, which Milton has shown in such wondrous motion. For these Verses,
And this:
Are directly contradictory of those noble Images, which we find in the following account of Milton.
Here are four flat unmusical Verses again; but those which follow will more than make amends for them.
What a number of admirable Images are here crowding upon one another? So natural and peculiar to the subject, that they would have been as absurd and extravagant in any other, as they are wonderfully just in this. And yet even in this subject nothing could have supply'd a Poet with them, but so Divine a Religion. So that at the same time that the eye is ravishingly entertain'd, Admiration is rais'd to a height, and the Reason is supremely satisfied. For are not these effects that are worthy of an infinite Cause? Can any thing be more surprizingly strong than this energetick Image?
Is not the following one great and wonderful?
And how admirable is the next.
He began to rise even before he was finish'd, and his Horns were finish'd in rising.
I thought to have proceeded, and to have compar'd the Councils and Fights of Virgil and Milton; and above all, their Description of Hell and its Torments; in which both those great Poets seem to have exerted all their strength. But I am afraid I have already run into length, and there is matter remaining for an entire volume.
And thus I have endeavour'd to show in the former part of this Book, that the principal reason why the Ancient Poets excell'd the Moderns in the greatness of Poetry, was because they incorporated Poetry with Religion; and in the Second Part, That the Moderns, by joyning the Christian Religion with Poetry will have the advantage of the Ancients; that is, that they will have the assistance of a Religion that is more agreeable to the design of Poetry than the Grecian Religion.