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 A N 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 O N 
 
 EPIC POETRY. 
 
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 AN ^ 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 O N 
 
 EPIC POETRY; 
 
 IN FIVE EPISTLES 
 TO THE REV". M^ M A S O l^f . 
 
 WITH 
 
 NO T E S. 
 
 Vatibus adder e calcar 
 
 XJtJiudio majore petant Helicona virentern, HoR, 
 
 By WILLIAM H A Y L E Y, Esq. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. D O D S L E Y, IN P A L L- M A L L» 
 
 M>DCC.LXXXII.
 
 Imprompiu 4> Mr. HAYLHYw 
 
 AS Briuiu wfurn'd, with all 1 rrjother's pjir, 
 rv¥.> for.', two gallant fo/JS, i;iu)!iy flain 1 
 Xlild Cook by ravage fuqr robVd.of b-tjjh. 
 And Har.ial AVimr. Jsom'd to baf«r Jeith; 
 The Co<J-<fs plong'd Jn.gr;-f r<>o vsft to fpttkj 
 Hid in her trk- h^r iear-disfi;;ured cheek. 
 Thefiri<-.i Nnc «it!» fyr, pathetic cars 
 SiJivcy'd the n( Lie mourr.cr'a dumb defpair; 
 "While faKT her c'loir the fighj of r'ty b^okf, 
 Ihc mule cf elegy thui warmly fpoJce : 
 ' Tak* inj-.r'd pareit all "e can btftow, 
 *« To fooihe thy heart, and mltigat. thy woe 1" 
 Speak'n^-, to earth the UiBdcnchufuft cjm?, 
 Ani veirj herhcav'nly pov.-er with Sewani'j narae ; 
 And that no vulgar eye might pi.-ree the truth, 
 J>»oclalm*d herfc'f the fiiend of Andre's youth. 
 In that fiir fembl4nce, with fuch plaintive fire 
 She rtiuckihech-ras of her pithctic lyre. 
 The uerping Go3d#fs own> the bcft relief, 
 An! fond!? lifteniv.ith f'bfiiing grief ; 
 Htr lovrlieft daughters lend a wiilir.g ear; 
 Hov'rin? the latent miifr with many a tear. 
 Her bra»eftfon«, who in their evrrr vein 
 Feel the frong pathos of the magic ftrairt* 
 Blefsthe encha 'ting lyre by gl ry ftrung, 
 Inrying the dsaJ, who aie fo Tweetly fung.
 
 
 1 ^f 
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 THE FIRST. 
 
 r5 

 
 ARGUMENT 
 
 OF THE FIRST EPISTLE. 
 
 l7itroduBio77, — Defig?^ of the Poe??z to remove prejudices 
 ^ixhich obfttmEi the cultivation of Epic writing. — -Origin 
 of Poetry, — Honors paid to its infa7icy. — Ho?ner the- 
 fr/l Poet remaining. — Difficulty of the quefion why he- 
 had no Succcffor i7i Greece. — Remark of a celebrated 
 Writer^ that as Criticif/n flour ifjes Poetry declines. — 
 Defence of Critics. — Danger of a bigoted acquiefcence in 
 critical Syfle7ns — and of a Poet' s criticifing his own^ 
 works. — Adva7itages of Friendpip and. Study of the. 
 higher Poets.
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 fERISH that critic pride, which oft has hurl'd 
 Its empty thunders o'er the Epic world ; 
 Which, eager to extend its mimic reign, 
 Would bind free Fancy in a fervile chain ; 
 With papal rage the eye of Genius blind, ^ 
 
 And bar the gates of Glory on the mind ! 
 
 Such dark decrees have letter'd Bigots penn'd *, 
 Yet feiz'd that honor'd name, the Poet's Friend. 
 But Learning from her page their laws will blot ; 
 Scorn'd be their arrogance ! their name forgot ! lo 
 
 Th' indignant Bard, abhorring bafe controul. 
 Seeks the juft Critic of congenial foul. 
 Say ! Mason, Judge and Mafter of the Lyre ! 
 Harmonious Chief of Britain's living Choir, 
 
 * Ver. 7. See N O T E I. 
 
 B 2 Say!
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
 Say ! wilt Thou liften to his weaker ftrains, 15: 
 
 Who pants to range round Fancy's rich domains ; 
 
 To vindicate her empire, and difown 
 
 Proud Syftem, feated on her injur'd throne? 
 
 Come ! while thy Mufe, contented with applaufe. 
 
 Gives to her graceful fong a little paufe, ^ 20* 
 
 Enjoying triumphs pafl: ; at leifure laid 
 
 In thy fwect Garden's variegated fhade. 
 
 Or fondly hanging on fome favorite Oak 
 
 That Harp, whofe notes the fate of Mona fpoke, 
 
 Strung by the facred Druid's focial band, 25 
 
 And wifely trufted to thy kindred hand ! 
 
 Come ! for thy liberal and ingenuous heart 
 
 Can aid a Brother in this magic art j 
 
 Let us, and Freedom be our guide, explore 
 
 7'he highefl: province of poetic lore, 30 
 
 Free the young Bard from that oppreffive awe, 
 
 Which feels Opinion's rule as Reafon's law, 
 
 And from his fpirit bid vain fears depart. 
 
 Of wxaken'd Nature and exhaufted Art ! 
 
 Phantoms ! that literary fpleen conceives ! 3.5 
 
 Dullnefs adopts, and Indolence believes ! 
 
 Whil 
 
 e
 
 [ 5 J 
 
 While with advent'rous ftep v/e wind along 
 Th' expanfiv^e regions of Heroic fong, 
 From different foiirces let our fearch explain 
 Why few the Chieftains of this wide domain^^ 40 
 
 Haply, infpiriting poetic youth, 
 Our verfe may prove this animating truth. 
 That Poefy's fublime, negleded field 
 May ftill new laurels to Ambition yield ; 
 Her Epic trumpet, in a modern hand, 4:5 
 
 Still make the fpirit glow, the heart expand. 
 Be fuch our dodrine ! our enlivening aim 
 The Mufe's honor, and our Country's fame ! 
 Thou firft and faireft of the focial Arts ! 
 Sovereign of liberal fouls, and feeling hearts, 50 
 
 If, in devotion to thy heavenly charms, 
 I clafp'd thy altar with my infant arms. 
 For thee neglected the wide field of wealth. 
 The toils of int'reft, and the fports of health. 
 Enchanting Poefy ! that zeal repay 55 
 
 With powers to fing thy univerfal fway ! 
 To trace thy progrefs from thy diftant birth, 
 Heaven's pure defcendant ! dear delight of Earth ! 
 
 Charm
 
 [ 6 J 
 
 Chann of all regions ! to no age confin'd ! 
 
 The prime ennobler of th' afpiring mind ! 60 
 
 Nor will thy dignity, fweet Power ! difdain 
 What Fiction utters in her idle ftrain, 
 Thy fportive Friend ! who, mocking folemn Truth, 
 Tells her fond tales of thy untutor'd youth. 
 As wrong'd Latona (fo her tale begins) 65 
 
 To Delphos travell'd with her youthful twins ; 
 Th' envenom'd Python, with terrific fway, 
 Crofs'd the fair Goddefs in her deftin'd way : 
 The heavenly parent, in the wild alarm, 
 Her little Dian in her anxious arm, 7^ 
 
 High on a flonc, which fhe in terror trod. 
 Cried to her filial guard, the Archer God, 
 Bidding with force, that fpoke the Mother's heart. 
 Her young Apollo launch his ready dart ; 
 In meafur'd founds her rapid mandate flowed, 75 
 
 The firft foundation of the future Ode ! 
 Thus, at their banquets, fabling Greeks rehearfe * 
 The fancied origin of ficred Verfe : 
 
 V(fr. 77. See NOTE IT. 
 
 And
 
 [ 7 ] 
 
 And though cold Reafon may with fcorn affail. 
 
 Or turn contemptuous from their fimple tale, 80 
 
 Yet, Poefy ! thy lifter Art may ftoop 
 
 From this weak iketch to. paint th' impaffion'd group. 
 
 Though tafte refin'd to modern Verfe deny 
 
 The hacknied pageants of the Pagan fky, 
 
 Their finking radiance ftill the Canvafs warms, 85 
 
 Painting ftill glories in their graceful forms y 
 
 Nor canft thou envy, if the world agree 
 
 To grant thy Sifter claims denied; to thee ; 
 
 For thee, the happier Art 1 the elder- born ! 
 
 Superior rights and dearer charms adorn : go 
 
 Conhn'd fhe catches, with obfervance keen, 
 
 Her hngle moment of the changeful fcene ; 
 
 But thou, endu'd vv^ith energy fublime, 
 
 Unqueftion'd arbiter of fpace and time! 
 
 Canft join the diftant, the unknown create, 95 
 
 And, while Fxiftence yields thee ail her ftate. 
 
 On the aftonilh'd mind profufely pour 
 
 Myriads of forms, that Fancy muft adore. 
 
 Yet of thy boundlefs power the deareft part 
 
 Is firm poffeffion of the feeling Heart : 100. 
 
 't3 
 
 No..
 
 [ 8 ] 
 
 No progeny of Chance, by Labor taught, 
 
 No ilow-form'd creature of fcholaftic thought, 
 
 The child of Paflion thou ! thy lyre fhe ftrung, 
 
 To her parental notes fhe tun'd thy tongue ; 
 
 Gave thee her boldeft fwell, her fofteft tone, 105 
 
 And made the compafs of her voice thy own. 
 
 To Admiration, fource of joy refin'd ! 
 Chaftc, lovely mover of the iimple mind ! 
 To her, though fceptics, in their pride, declaim. 
 With many an infult, on her injur'd name ; no 
 
 To her, fweet Poefy ! we owe thy birth. 
 Thou firft encomiafl: of the fruitful Earth I 
 By her infpir'd, the earliefl: mortal found 
 The ear-delighting charm of meafur'd found ; 
 He hail'd the Maker of a world fo fair, 115 
 
 And the firfl: accent of his fong was prayer. 
 O, moft attractive of thofe airy Powers, 
 Who mol"t illuminate Man's chequer'd hours ! 
 Is there an Art, in all the group divine, 
 Whofe dawn of Being muft not yield to thine ? 120 
 
 Religion's felf, whofe provident controul 
 Takes from fierce Man his anarchy of foul, 
 
 2 She
 
 [ 9 J 
 
 She o'er thy youth with fond afFeclion hung, 
 
 And borrow'd mufic from thy infant tongue. 
 
 Law, fterner Law, whofe potent voice impreft 125 
 
 Severeft terror on the human breaft, 
 
 With thy frefh flow'rs her aweful figure crown'd, 
 
 And fpoke her mandate in thy fofter found. 
 
 E'en cold Philofophy, whom later days 
 
 Saw thy mean rival, envious of thy praife ; 130 
 
 Who clos'd againft thee her ungrateful arms. 
 
 And urg'd her Plato to defame thy charms ; 
 
 She from thy childhood gain'd no fruitlefs aid, 
 
 From thee fhe learnt her talent to perfuade. 
 
 Gay Nature view'd thee wdth a fmiling glance, 135 
 
 TJie Graces round thee fram'd the frolic dance : 
 
 And well might feftive Joy thy favor court ; 
 
 Thy fong turn'd ftrife to peace, and toil to fport. 
 
 Exhaufted Vigor at thy voice reviv'd. 
 
 And Mirth from thee her dearefl; charm deriv'd. 140 
 
 Triumphant Love, in thy alliance bleft, 
 
 Enlarg'd his empire o'er the gentle breaft ; 
 
 His torch affum'd new luftre from thy breath. 
 
 And his clear flame defied the clouds of death. 
 
 C But
 
 C ic ] 
 
 But of the fplendid train, who felt thy fway, 145 
 
 Or drew cxiftence from thy vital ray, 
 
 Glory, with fondcft zeal, proclaimed thy might, 
 
 And hail'd thee vidlor of oblivious Night. 
 
 Her martial trumpet to thy hand fhe gave. 
 
 At once to quicken, and reward the Brave: 1 50. 
 
 It founds — his blood the kindling Hero pays, 
 
 A cheap and ready price for thy eternal praife I 
 
 Tho' felfifh Fear th' immortal ftrain deride, 
 
 And mock the Warrior's wifh as frantic pride ! 
 
 Ye gallant, haplefs Dead of diftant time, 155 
 
 M^hofe fame has perifh'd unembalm'd in rhyme. 
 As thro' the defert air your afhes fly, 
 In Fancy's ear the namelefs atoms cry, 
 '^ To us, unhappy! cruel Fates refufe 
 '* The well-earn'd record of th' applauding Mufe.'* 160 
 Blefl: are thofe Chiefs, who, blazon'd on her roll,. 
 Still waken virtue in each kindred foul ; 
 Their bright exiftence ftill on earth prolong, 
 And fliine for ever in the deathlefs fong. 
 Yet oft Oblivion, in a treacherous fhade, 165 
 
 Has funk the tuneful rites to Valor paid ; 
 
 Her
 
 [ " 3 
 
 Her pal lied lips refufing to rehearfe 
 The facred, old, traditionary verfe. 
 
 As well the curious eye, with keen defire, 
 Might hope to catch that fpark of vital fire, 170 
 
 Which firft thro' Chaos {hot a fudden light, 
 And quicken'd Nature in its tranfient flight ; 
 As the fond ear to catch the fleeting note. 
 Which on the ravifli'd air was heard to float, 
 When firft the Mufe her Epic ftrain began, 175 
 
 And every lift'ning Chief grew more than Man. 
 
 But, as the Ruler of the new-born day 
 From Chaos rofe, in glory's rich array ; 
 So from deep fliades, impenetrably ftrong, 
 That fliroud the darken'd world ofantient fong, 180 
 
 Bright Homer burfts, magnificently clear, 
 The folar Lord of that poetic fphere ; 
 Before whofe blaze, in wide luxuriance fpread, 
 Each Grecian Star hides his diminifli'd head ; 
 Whofe beams departed yet enchant the fight, 185 
 
 In Latium's fofter, chafte, refleded light. 
 
 Say ye ! whofe curious philofophic eye 
 Searches the depth where Nature's fecrets lie; 
 
 C 2 Ye,
 
 [ X2 3 
 
 Ye, who can tell, how her capricious fit 
 
 Direds the flow and ebb of human wit, 190 
 
 And why, obedient to her quick command, 
 
 Spring-tides of Genius now enrich her fav'rite land, 
 
 Now fink, by her to different climes affign'd, 
 
 And only leave fome worthlefs weeds behind ! 
 
 Say! why in Greece, unrival'd and alone, 195 
 
 The Sovereign Poet grac'd his Epic throne ? 
 
 Why did the realm that echoed his renown. 
 
 Produce no kindred heir to claim his crown ? 
 
 If, as the liberal mind delights to think. 
 
 Fancy's rich flow'rs their vital efi'ence drink 200 
 
 From Liberty's pure ftreams, that largely roll 
 
 Their quick'ning virtue thro' the Poet's foul; 
 
 Why, in the period when this Friend of Earth 
 
 Made Greece the model of heroic worth, 
 
 And faw her votaries adl, beneath her fway, 205 
 
 Scenes more fublime than Fidion can difplay. 
 
 Why did the Epic Mufe's filent lyre * 
 
 Shrink from thofe feats that fummon'd all her fire ? 
 
 Or if, as courtly Theorifls maintain, 
 
 The Mufes revel in a Monarch's reign ; 210 
 
 * Ver. 207. See NOTE III; 
 
 Why^
 
 [ 13 ] 
 
 Why, when young Ammon's foul, athirft for fame, 
 
 Call'd every Art to celebrate his name ; 
 
 When ready Painting, at his fovereign nod, 
 
 With avveful thunder arm'd this mimic God ; 
 
 Why did coy Poefy, tho' fondly woo'd, 215 
 
 Refufe that dearer fmile for which he fued. 
 
 And fee him fhed, in martial Honor's bloom. 
 
 The tear of envy on Achilles' tomb ? 
 
 In vain would Reafon thofe nice queftions folve, 
 Which the fine play of mental powers involve : 220 
 
 In Bards of ancient time, with genius fraught, 
 What mind can trace how thought engendered thought, 
 How little hints awak'd the large defign, 
 And fubtle Fancy fpun her variegated line ? 
 Yet fober Critics, of no vulgar note, 225 
 
 But fuch as Learning's fons are proud to quote, 
 The progrefs of Homeric verfe explain, 
 As if their fouls had lodg'd in Homer's brain. 
 Laughs not the fpirit of poetic frame, 
 However llightly warm'd by Fancy's flame, 230 
 
 When grave Boffu by Syftem's ftudied laws * 
 The Grecian Bard's ideal pidlure draws, 
 * Ver. 231. See NOTE IV, 
 
 And
 
 [ u ] 
 
 And wifely tells us, that his Song arofe 
 As the good Parfon's quiet Sermon grows ; 
 Who, while his eafy thoughts no preffure find 235 
 
 From hofts of images that croud the mind, 
 Firft calmly fettles on fome moral text, 
 Then creeps — from one divifion — to the next ? 
 Nor, if poetic minds more flowly drudge 
 Thro' the cold comments of this Gallic judge, 240 
 
 Will their indignant fpirit iefs deride 
 That fubtle Pedant's more prefumptive pride, 
 Whofe bloated page, with arrogance replete. 
 Imputes to Virgil his own dark conceit : * 
 And from the tortur'd Poet dares to draw 245 
 
 That latent fenfe, which Horace never faw ; 
 Which, if on folid proof more ftrongly built, 
 Muft brand the injured Bard with impious guilt. 
 While fuch Didtators their vain efforts wafte 
 In the dark viiions of diftemper'd Tafte, 250 
 
 Let us that pleafing, happier light purfue, 
 Which beams benignant from the milder few ; 
 
 * Ver. 244. See NOTE V. 
 
 1 VJhn
 
 [ ^5 ] 
 
 Who, juftly confcious of the doubts that ftart 
 
 In all nice queftions on each finer Art, 
 
 With modeft doubt aflign each likely caufe, 255 
 
 But dare to didate no decifive laws! 
 
 'Tis faid by one, who, with this candid claim, * 
 
 Has gain'd no fading wreath of Critic fame. 
 
 Who, fondly lift'ning to her various rhyme, 
 
 Has mark'd the Mufe's ftep thro' many a clime ; 260 
 
 That, where the fettled Rules of Writing fpread, 
 
 Where Learning's code of Critic Law is read, 
 
 Tho' other treafures deck th' enlighten'd (hore,. 
 
 The germs of Fancy ripen there no more. 
 
 Are Critics then, that bold, imperious tribe ! 265 
 
 The Guards of Genius, who his path prefcribe j 
 
 Are they like Vifirs in an Eaftern court. 
 
 Who fap the very power they fhould fupport ? 
 
 Whofe fpecious wiles the royal mind unnerve, 
 
 And fink the monarch they pretend to ferve, 270 
 
 No ! of their value higher far I deem ; 
 
 And prize their ufeful toil with fond efteem* 
 
 Ver. 257. See NOTE VI. 
 
 When
 
 ■[ ^6 ] 
 
 When Lowth's firm fpirit leads hini to explore 
 The hallow'd confines of Hebraic lorcj 
 When his free pages, luminous and bold, 275 
 
 The glorious end of Poefy unfold, 
 Affert her powers, her dignity defend. 
 And fpeak her, as Hie is, fair Freedom's friend ; 
 When thus he fliines his mitred Peers above, 
 I view his warmth with reverential love; 280 
 
 Proud, if my verfe may catch refledled light 
 From the rich fplendor of a mind fo bright. 
 Bleft be the names, to no vain fyftem tied, 
 Who render Learning's blaze an ufeful guide, 
 A friendly beacon, rais'd on high to teach 285 
 
 The wand'rino; bark to fhun the fhallow beach. 
 But O! ye noble, and afpiring few, 
 Whofe ardent fouls poetic fame purine, 
 Ye, on whom fmiling Heaven, perfedion's fource. 
 Seems to beftow unlimitable force, 290 
 
 The inborn vigor of your fouls defend. 
 Nor lean too fondly on the firmefh friend ! 
 Genius may link on Criticifm's brcaft, 
 By weak dependr.ncc on her truth opprcft, 
 
 9 Sleep
 
 [ ^7 } 
 
 Sleep on her lap, and ftretch his llfelefs length, 295 
 
 Shorn by her foothing hand of all his ftrength. 
 
 Thou wilt not. Mason ! thou, v/hofe generous heart 
 Muft feel that Freedom is the foul of Art, 
 Thou wilt not hold me arrogant or vain, 
 If I advife the young poetic train 300 
 
 To deem infallible no Critic's word ; 
 Not e'en the didates of thy Attic Hurd : 
 No ! not the Stagyrite's unqueftion'd page, 
 The Sire of Critics, fandlified by age ! 
 The nobleft minds, with folid reafon bleft, 305 
 
 Who feel that faculty above the reft. 
 Who argue on thofe arts they never try. 
 Exalt that Reafon they fo oft apply, 
 Till in its pride, with tyrannous controul, 
 It crufh the kindred talents of the foul ; 310 
 
 And hence, in every Art, will fyftems rife. 
 Which Fancy muft furvey with angry eyes ; 
 And at the lightning of her fcornful fmile, 
 In frequent ruin finks the labor'd pile. 
 
 How oft, my Romney ! have I known thy vein 315 
 Swell with indignant heat and gen'rous pain, 
 
 D To
 
 ■ [ ^8 ] 
 
 To hear, in terms both arrogant and tanie^ 
 
 Some reas'ning Pedant on thy Art declaim : 
 
 Its laws and limits when his fov^ereign tafte 
 
 With firm preciiion has minutely trac'd, 32a 
 
 And in the clofe of a decifive fpeech 
 
 Pronounc'd fome point beyond the Pencil's reach, 
 
 How has thy Genius, by one rapid ftroke, 
 
 Refuted all the fapient things he fpoke ! 
 
 Thy Canvafs placing, in the cleareft light, 325. 
 
 His own Impoflible before his fight ! 
 
 O might the Bard who loves thy mental fire, 
 
 Who to thy fame attun'd his early lyre. 
 
 Learn from thy Genius, when dull Fops decide, 
 
 So to refute their fyftematic pride ! 33-0 
 
 Let him, at leaft, fucceeding Poets warn 
 
 To view the Pedant's lore with doubt, or fcorn. 
 
 And e'en to queftion, with a fpirit free, 
 
 Eftablifh'd Critics of the firft degree ! 
 
 Among the names that Judgment loves to praife, 3:35 
 
 The pride of ancient, or of modern days ; 
 
 What Laws of Poefy can Learning fliew 
 
 Above the Critic fong of fage Despreaux ? 
 
 His
 
 " [ 19 3 
 
 His fancy elegant, his judgment nice. 
 
 His method eafy, and his ftyle concife ; 340 
 
 The Bard of Reafon, with her vigor fraught, 
 
 Her purefl: dodlrine he divinely taught ; 
 
 Nor taught in vain ! His precept clear and chafte 
 
 Reform'd the errors of corrupted Tafte ; 
 
 And French Imagination, v^ho w^as bit 345 
 
 By that Tarantula, diftorted Wit, 
 
 Ceafing her antic gambols to rehearfe, 
 
 Bleft the pure magic of his healing verfe : 
 
 With his loud fame applauding Europe rung, 
 
 And his juft praife a rival Poet fung. "350 
 
 Yet, had this Friend of Verfe-devoted Youth) 
 
 This tuneful Teacher of Poetic truth, 
 
 Had he but chanc'd his dodrineto diiFufe 
 
 Ere Milton commun'd with his facred Mufe ; 
 
 And could that Englifh, felf-dependant foul, 355 
 
 Born with fuch energy as mocks controul, 
 
 Could his high fpirit, with fubmiiflive awe. 
 
 Have ftoop'd to liften to a Gallic Law j 
 
 D 2 His
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
 His hallow'd fubjecl, by that Law forbid *, 
 
 Might dill have laid in lilent darknefs hid, 360 
 
 And, this bright Sun not rifing in our fphere, 
 
 Homer had wanted ftill his true compeer. 
 
 From hence let Genius to himfcif be juft. 
 Hence learn, ye Bards, a liberal diftruft ; 
 Whene'er 'tis faid, by Syftem's haughty Son^ 365 
 
 That what He cannot do, can ne'er be done,. 
 'Tis Fancy's right th' exalted throne to prefs, 
 Whofe height proud Syftem can but blindly guefs, 
 Springs, whofe exiftence {he denies, unlock, 
 And call rich torrents from the flinty rock. 370 
 
 Let the true Poet, who would build a name 
 In noble rivalfhip of antient fame, 
 "When he would plan, to triumph over Time, 
 The fplendid fabric of his lofty rhyme, 
 Let him the pride of Conftantine affume, 375 
 
 Th' imperial Founder of the fecond Rome, 
 Who fcorn'd all limits to his work affign'd, f 
 Save by th' infpiring God who rul'd his mind j 
 
 * Ver. 359. See NOTE VII. 
 t Ver. S77' See NOTE VIII, 
 
 5 Or,
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
 Or, like the fabled * Jove, to afcertaln 
 The doubtful confines of his wide domain, 380 
 
 Two Eagles let him fend of equal wing, 
 Whofe different flight may form a perfedl ring, 
 And, at the point where Senfe and Fancy meet, 
 There fafely bold, and though fublime difcreet, 
 His fame's foundation let him firmly lay, 385 
 
 Nor dread the danger of difputed fway ! 
 Yet, if the Bard to glory mull afpire 
 By free exertion of unborrow'd fire. 
 Nor, like the Claflic Bigot, vainly deem 
 No modern Mufe can challenge juft efteemj 390 
 
 Unlefs her robe in every fold be preft 
 To fall precifely like the Grecian veft ; 
 If the blind notion he muft boldly fliun, 
 That Beauty's countlefs forms are only one, 
 And not, v^hen Fancy, from her magic hoard, 395 
 
 Would blindly bring him treafures unexplor'd, 
 
 * Jupiter, ut perhibent, fpatiu n quum difcere vellet 
 
 Naturae, regni nefcius ipfe fui, 
 Armigeros utrimque duos asqualibus alis 
 
 Mifit ab Eois Occiduifque plagis. 
 ParnalTus geminos fertur junxifle volatus 5 
 
 Contulit alternas Pythius axis aves. Claudian. 
 
 Snap
 
 r 22 ] 
 
 Snap her light wand, and force her hand to bear 
 
 The heavier Compafs, and the formal Square ; 
 
 Let him no lefs their dangerous pride decline, 
 
 Who fingly criticife their own defign. 400 
 
 In that nice toil what various perils lurk ! 
 
 Not Pride alone may mar the needful work ; 
 
 But foes more common to the feeling nerve, 
 
 Where Tafte and Genius dwell with coy Referve, 
 
 The lickly Doubt, with modeft weaknefs fraught, 405 
 
 The languid Tedium of o'erlabour'd thought, 
 
 T'le Pain to feel the growing work behind 
 
 The iinifh'd model in the forming mind ; 
 
 Thefe foes, that oft the Poet's bofom pierce, 
 
 Thefe ! that condemn'd to fire Virgilian Verfe, 410 
 
 Prove that the Bard, a hold, yet trembling elf, 
 
 Should find a Critic firmer than himfelf. 
 
 But what fine Spirit will afiuine the Judge, 
 
 Patient thro' all this irkfome toil to drudge r 
 
 'Tis here, O Friendililp ! here thy glories (hine j 415, 
 
 The hard, th' important tafk is only thine ; 
 
 For thou alone can ft all the powers unite, 
 
 That juftly make it thy peculiar right : 
 
 9 Thine
 
 [23 ] 
 
 Thine the fixt eye, which at no foible winks ; 
 
 Thine the warm zeal,, which utters all it thinks, 420 
 
 In thofe fweet tones, that hafty Spleen difarm, 
 
 That give to painful Truth a winning charm,^^ 
 
 And the quick hand of lift'ning Genius teach,. 
 
 To grafp that excellence he burns to reach : 
 
 Thou fweet Subduer of all mental ftrife I 425 
 
 Thou Source of vigor ! thou Support of life ! 
 
 Nor Art nor Science could delight or live^ 
 
 Without that energy thy counfels give i 
 
 Genius himfelf muft fink in dumb defpair,. 
 
 Unbleft, uncherifh'd by thy cheering care. 430 
 
 Nor let the Bard, elate with youthful fire, 
 When Fancy to his hand prefents the lyre, 
 When her jftrong plumes his foaring fpirit lift,^ 
 When Friendfhip, Heaven's more high and hoJy gift. 
 With zeal angelic prompts his daring flight, 435 
 
 And round him darts her doubt-difpelling light, 
 Let him not then, by Vanity betray'd,. 
 Look with unjuft contempt on Learning's aid ! 
 But, as th' advent'rous Seaman, to attain 
 That bright renown which great Difcoverors gain, 44c 
 
 Confults
 
 [ 24 ] 
 
 Confults the conducl of each gallant name, 
 
 Who fail'd before him in that chace of Fame, 
 
 Reviews, with frequent glance, their ufeful chart, 
 
 Marks all their aims, and fathoms all their art, 
 
 So let the Poet trace their happy courfe, 445 
 
 So bravely emulate their mental force, 
 
 Whofe daring fouls, from many a different clime, 
 
 Have nobly ventur'd on the fea of Rhyme ! 
 
 Led by no fear, his fwelling fail to flack, 
 
 Let him, with eager eyes, purfue the track ; 450 
 
 Not like a Pirate, with infidious views 
 
 To plunder every veffel he purfues. 
 
 But with juft hope to find yet farther fhores^ 
 
 And pafs each rival he almoft adores ! 
 
 ENU OF THE FIRST EPISTLE. 
 
 EPISTLE
 
 ."1 TT^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 Tf H E. S. E, C- O. N D. 
 
 E
 
 ARGUMENT 
 
 OF THE SECOND EPISTLE. 
 
 CharaEier. of A7icient Poets — Homer — Apollonhis Rhodius 
 
 • — Vircril — L ucan .
 
 [ 27 ] 
 
 EPISTLE II. 
 
 A I L5 migHty Father of the Epic line,, 
 Thou vaft, prolific, intelledual Mine,, 
 Where veins of ancient and of modern gold, 
 The wealth of each poetic world, have roll'd !: 
 Great Bard of Greece, whofe ever-during Verfe t; 
 
 All ages venerate, all tongues rehearfe ; 
 Could blind idolatry be juftly paid, 
 To aught of mental power by man difplay'd, 
 To thee, thou Sire of foul-exalting Song, 
 That boundlefs worfliip might to thee belong • , , 
 
 For, as thy Jove, on his Olympian throne,, 
 Ih his unrivall'd fway exults alone. 
 Commanding Nature by his aweful nod, 
 Ih high feclufion from each humbler God ; 
 So fhines thy Genius thro' the cloud of years, i'5: 
 
 lixalted far above thy Pagan peers 
 
 E 2 Hv
 
 [ 2S ] 
 
 By the rich fpleudor of creative fire, 
 
 And the deep thunder of thy martial lyre ; 
 
 Tlic confcions world confcffes thy controiil, 
 
 And hails thee Sovereign of the kindling foul. 20 
 
 Yet, could thy mortal fliape revifit earth, 
 How would it move, great Bard! thy fcornful mirth, 
 To hear vain Pedants to thv Verfe afliQ;a 
 Scholaftic thoughts that never could be thine; 
 To hear the quaint conceits of modern Pride 25 
 
 Blafpheme thy Fancy and thy Tafte deride ? 
 When thus in Vanity's capricious fit. 
 We fee thy fame traduc'd by Gallic wit, * 
 We fee a Dwarf, who dares his foot to reft 
 On a recumbent Giant's ample chefl, 30 
 
 And, lifting 'his pert form to public fight, 
 Boafts, like a child, his own fuperior height. 
 But neither envious Wit's malignant craft, 
 Tho' arm'd v;ith Ridicule's envenom'd fiiaft, 
 Nor fickle Failiion's more tyrannic fway, 35 
 
 Whofe varying voice the fons of Earth obey, 
 
 ^ Vc-r. 28. See NOTE I. 
 
 2 Can
 
 [ 29 3 
 
 Can (Lake the folid bafe of thy renown. 
 
 Or blaft the verdure of thy Laurel crown. 
 
 Tho' Time, who from his many-colour'd wings. 
 
 Scatters ten thoufand (liadcs o'er human things. 
 
 Has wrought unnumbered changes fince thy birth. 
 
 And given new features to the face oi earth ; 
 
 Tho' all thy Gods who fliook the ftarry pole, 
 
 UnquePcion'd Rulers of the Pagan foul, 
 
 Are fallen with their fanes, in ruin hurl'd, ^5 
 
 Their worfhip vaniih'd from th' enlighten'd world ; 
 
 Still its immortal force thy Song retains. 
 
 Still rules obedient man and fires his glowing veins ; 
 
 For Nature's felf, that great and conftant power, 
 
 One and the fame thro' every changing hour, 50 
 
 Gave thee each fecret of her reign to pierce, 
 
 And ftampt her fignet on thy facred Verfe , 
 
 That aweful fignet^ whofe imperial fvvay 
 
 No age difpntes, no regions difobey ; 
 
 For at its fight the fubjecl pafiions flart, 55 
 
 And open all the paffes of the heart. 
 
 'Twas Nature taught thy Genius to difplay 
 That ho ft of Characters who grace thy lay ; 
 
 So
 
 [ 30 ] 
 
 So richly varied and fo vaft the ftore, 
 
 Her plaftic hand can hardly model more ; 60 
 
 'Twas Nature, nobleft of poetic Guides, 
 
 Gave thee thy flowing Verfe, whofe copious tides 
 
 Gufhing luxuriant from high Fancy's fource. 
 
 By no vain art diverted in their courfe, 
 
 With fplendid cafe, with iimple grandeur roll, 65 
 
 Spread their free wealth, and fertilize the foul. 
 
 There are, whom blind and erring zeal betrays 
 To wound thy Genius with ill-judging praife ;. 
 Who rafhly deem thee of all Arts the fire, 
 Who draw dull fmoke from thy refplenden-t fire,. 70 
 
 Pretend thy fancied Miracles to pierce,. 
 And form quaint riddles of thy cleareft Verfe V- 
 Blind to thofe brighter charms and puree worth,. 
 Which make thy Lays the lalling joy of earth., 
 For why has every age with fond acclaim 7(5. 
 
 Sweird the loud note of thy increafmg fame? 
 Not that cold Study may from thee deduce 
 Vain codes of myftic lore and laws abftrufe ; 
 But that thy Song prefents, like folar light, 
 A. world in adljon.to th' enraptui'd Hght; So 
 
 That.
 
 t 31 ] 
 
 That, with a force beyond th' enervate rules 
 
 Of tame Philofophy's pedantic Schools, 
 
 Thy living Images inftrud mankind, 
 
 Mould the juft heart, and fire th' heroic mind. 
 
 E'en Socrates himfelf, that pureft Sage, * 85 
 
 Imbib'd his Wifdom from thy moral page ; 
 
 And haply Greece, the Wonder of the Earth 
 
 For feats of martial fire and civic worth, 
 
 That glorious Land, of nobleft minds the nurfe. 
 
 Owes her unrivall'd race to thy infpiring Verfe ; 90 
 
 For O, what Greek, who in his youthful vein 
 
 Had felt thy foul-invigorating ftrain. 
 
 Who that had caught, amid the feftive throng, 
 
 The public leflbn of thy patriot Song, 
 
 Could ever ceafe to feel his bofom fwell ' 95 
 
 With zeal to dare, and pafiion to excel. 
 
 In thee thy grateful country juflly prais'd 
 
 The nobleft Teacher of the tribes fhe rais'd ; 
 
 Thy voice, which doubly gave her fame to lafi, 
 
 Form'd future Heroes, while it funo; the oaft. 100 
 
 what deep regret thy fond admirers feel. 
 That mythologic clouds thy life conceal ; 
 
 Ver. 85. See NOTE II. 
 1 
 
 That,
 
 [ 32 J 
 
 That, like a difcant God, thou'rt darkly iiiewn, 
 
 Felt in thy Works, but in Thyfelf unknown ! 
 
 Perchance the (Lades that hide thy mortal days 105: 
 
 From keen Affedion's difanpointed ^mze, 
 
 And that Idolatry, fo fondly proud, 
 
 With which thy Country to thy genius bow'd,. 
 
 Might form, the caufe why, kindling with thy fire,. 
 
 No Grecian rival ftruck thy Epic lyre ; i.ia 
 
 Perchance, not feeing how thy fteps were train'd, 
 
 How they the fummit of Parnaffus gain'd, 
 
 On thy opprc/iive Glory's flaming pride 
 
 Young Emulation gaz'd, and gazing died.. 
 
 The Mufes of the Attic Stage impart rr^: 
 
 To many a Votary their kindred art ;. 
 And fhe who bids the Theban Eagle bear 
 Her lyric thunder thro' the ftormy air. 
 How high foe'er fhe leads his daring flight, ^' 
 Guides his bold rivals to an equal height. 120 
 
 Of all the Grecian Bards in Glory's race, 
 'Tis thine alone, by thy unequalFd pace. 
 
 * Vcr. 119. See NOTE III. 
 
 To
 
 [ zz ] 
 
 To reach the goal with loud applaufe, and heat 
 
 No ftep approaching thme, no rival near. 
 
 Yet may not Judgment, with fevere difdain, 125 
 
 Slight the young Rhodian*s variegated ftrain ; * 
 
 Tho' with lefs force he ftrike an humbler fhellj 
 
 Beneath his hand the notes of Paffion fwelL 
 
 His tender Genius, with alluring art, 
 
 Dil^lays the tumult of the Virgin's heart, 130 
 
 When Love, like quivering rays that never reft. 
 
 Darts thro' each vein, and vibrates in her breaft* 
 
 Tho' Nature feel his Verfe, tho' fhe declare 
 
 Medea's magic is ftill potent there, 
 
 Yet Fancy fees the flighted Poet rove -135 
 
 In penflve anger thro' th' Elyflan Grove. 
 
 From Critic fliades, w^hofe fupercillous pride 
 
 His Song neglected, or his Powers decried, 
 
 He turns indignant — unoppreft by fears. 
 
 Behold, he feeks the fentence of his Peers, j.4^0 
 
 See their juft band his honed claim allow, 
 
 See pleafure lighten on his laurell'd brow ; 
 
 * Ver. 126. See NOTE IV. 
 
 F He
 
 [ 34 ] 
 
 He foars the Critic's cold contempt above, 
 For Virgil greets him with fraternal love ! 
 
 Hail, thou rich Column, on whofe high-wrought frame 
 The Roman Mufe fupports her Epic fame ! 146 
 
 Hail, great Magician, whofe illufive charm's 
 Gave pleafing luftre to a Tyrant's arms, 
 To Jove's pure fceptre turn'd his iron rod, 
 And made the Homicide a Guardian God ! 150 
 
 Hail, wond'rous Bard, to Glory's temple led 
 Thro' paths that Genius rarely deigns to tread ; 
 For Imitation, fhe whofe fyren fong 
 Betrays the fkillful and unnerves the firong, 
 Preferving thee on her perfidious fhorc,. 155 
 
 Where many a Poet had been wreck'd before. 
 Led thee to heights that charm th' aftonifli'd eye,. 
 And with Invention's heaven in fplendor vie. 
 As Rome herfelf, by long unwearied toil, 
 Glean'd the fair produce of each foreign foil; r6o 
 
 From all her wide Dominion's various parts 
 Borrow'd their laws, their ufages, their arts ;, 
 Imported knowledge from each adverfe zone. 
 And made the wifdom of the world her own: 
 
 10 Thy
 
 C 35 3 
 
 Thy patient fpirit thus, from every Bard 165 
 
 Whofe mental riches won thy juft regard, 
 
 Drew various treafure ; which thy {kill refin*d, 
 
 And in the fabric of thy Verfe combin'd. 
 
 It was thy glory, as thy fond defire, 
 
 To echo the fweet notes of Homer's lyre ; 170 
 
 But with an art thy hand alone can reach, 
 
 An art that has endear'd the ftrain of each. 
 
 So the young Nymph, whofe tender arms embrace 
 
 An elder Sifter of enchanting grace, 
 
 Though form'd herfelf with every power to pleafe, 175 
 
 By genuine charader and native eafe. 
 
 Yet fondly copies from her favourite Fair 
 
 Her mien, her motion, her attractive air. 
 
 Her robe's nice fhape, her riband's pleafing hue, 
 
 And every ornament that ftrikes the view j 180 
 
 But flie difplays, by imitative art. 
 
 So quick a fpirit, and fo foft a heart, 
 
 The graceful mimic while our eyes adore, 
 
 We think the model cannot charm us more : 
 
 Tho' feen together, each more lovely fhews, 185 
 
 And by comparifon their beauty grows. 
 
 F 2 Some
 
 [ 36 ] 
 
 Some Critics, to decide which Bard prevails, 
 Weigh them like Jove, but not in golden fcales ; 
 In their falfe balance th' injur'd Greek they raifc, 
 Virgil finks loaded with their heavy praife. * 19a 
 
 Ingenuous Bard, w^hofe mental rays divine 
 Shaded by modeft doubts more fvveetly fliine ; 
 Thou whofe laft breath, unconfcious of the wrong,. 
 Doom'd to deftrudion thy fublimeft Song ;. 
 How dull their incenfe in thy fight muft burn,. 195: 
 
 How muft thy fpirit with abhorrence turn 
 From their diigufting rites, who at thy {brine 
 Blafpheme thy Mafter's name,, to honor thine ! 
 More equal tribute, in their fimpler flowers,. 
 The Roets oiler to your feparate powers ;. J.DO^ 
 
 For all poetic eyes delight to view- 
 Your different forms, and with devotion due 
 In each the radiant Delphic God they own,, 
 By J>eauteous majefty diftindly (hewn : 
 But they behold the lofty Homer ftand' 20.yf, 
 
 The bright Coloffus of the Rhodian land. 
 
 V,er 190. See NOTE V: 
 
 Beneath
 
 C 37 3 
 
 Beneath whofe feet the waves fubmiffive roll, 
 
 Whofe towering head appears to prop the pole ; 
 
 Stupendous Image ! grand in every part. 
 
 And feeminop far above the reach of mortal art. 210 
 
 In thee, thou lovely Mantuan Bard, appear 
 
 The fofter features of the Belvidere ; 
 
 That finifh'd grace which fafcinates all eyes 3 
 
 Yet from the copying hand elufive flies : 
 
 Charms fo complete, by fuch pure fplrit warm'd, 215 
 
 They make lefs perfedl beauty feem deform'd. 
 
 O had thy Mufe, whofe decorating feill 
 Could fpread rich foliage o'er the leaflefs hill ; 
 Had ihe, who knew with niceft hand to frame 
 The fweet unperifhable wreaths of Fame ; 2 2Q 
 
 Had fhe,. exalted by a happier fate,, 
 Virtue's Iree Herald) and no Slave of State, 
 Deck'd worthier flirines with her unfading flower, 
 And given to Freedom v/hat fhe gave to Power ; 
 Then with more keen delight and warmer praife 225 
 
 The world had liften'd to thy bolder lays ; 
 Perchance had ow'd to thee (a mighty debt) 
 Verfe v/here Perfedion her bright feal had fet, 
 V/here Art could nothing blame andNature nought regret. _ 
 
 Of
 
 C 38 ] 
 
 Of coarfer form, with lefs pathetic charms, 230 
 
 Hating with Stoic pride a Tyrant's arms, 
 In the keen fervor of that florid time 
 When youthful Fancy pours her hafty rhyme, 
 When all the mind's luxuriant flioots appear, 
 Untrimm'd by Art, by Intereft, or Fear, 235 
 
 See daring Ltjcan for that wreath contend. 
 Which Freedom twines for her poetic friend. 
 'Tis thine, thou bold but injur'd Bard, 'tis thine ! 
 Tho' Critic fpleen infult thy rougher line ; 
 Tho' wrong'd thy Genius, and thy Name mifplac'd 240 
 By vain diftindlions of faftidious Tafte ; 
 Indignant Freedom, with juft anger fir'd. 
 Shall o;uard the Poet whom herfelf infpir'd. 
 What tho' thy early, uncorredled page 
 Betrays fome marks of a degenerate age ; * 245 
 
 Tho' many a tumid point thy verf^ contains, 
 Like warts projeding from Herculean veins ; t 
 
 Tho' like thy Cato thy ftern Mufe appear, 
 Her manners rigid, and her frown auftere ; 
 Like him, ftill breathing Freedom's genuine flame, 250 
 Juftice her idol. Public Good her aim, 
 
 Well
 
 [ 39 ] 
 
 Well fhe fupplies her want of fofter art 
 
 By all the fterling treafures of the heart ; 
 
 By Energy, from Independance caught, 
 
 And the free Vigor of unborrow'd Thought. 25^^ 
 
 Thou Bard mofl injur'd by malicious fate, 
 
 Could not thy Blood appeafe a Tyrant's hate ? 
 
 Muft He, ftill gall'd by thy poetic claim> 
 
 With falfhood perfecute thy moral fame ? 
 
 Shall Hiftory's pen, to aid his vengeance won, * 260 
 
 Brand thee, brave Spirit, as an impious Son, 
 
 Who meanly fear'd to yield his vital flood. 
 
 And fought his fafety by a Parent's blood ? 
 
 Bafe calumny, at which Belief muft halt. 
 
 And blind Credulity herfelf revolt. ^ 265 
 
 Could that firm Youth become fo vile a flave, 
 
 Whofe voice new energy to virtue gave ; 
 
 Whofe Stoic foul all abje6t thoughts abhorr'd, 
 
 And own'd no fordid paflion as its lord ; 
 
 Vv^'ho in the tx^ying hour of mortal pain, 270 
 
 While life was ebbing from his open vein^ 
 
 Alike unconfcious of Remorfe and Fear, 
 
 His heart unfliaken, and his fenfes clear, 
 
 * Ver. 260. See NOTE VL 
 
 Smil'd
 
 I 40 1 
 
 Smird on his doom, and, like the fabled bird 
 
 Whofe mufic on Meander's bank was heard, 575 
 
 Form'd into tuneful notes his parting breath. 
 
 And fung th' approaches of undreaded death ? 
 
 Rife, thou wrong'd Bard, above Detradlion's reach, 
 
 Whofe arts in vain thy various worth impeach ; 
 
 Enjoy that fame thy fpirit knew to prize, «8o 
 
 And view'd fo fondly v/ith prophetic eye§. 
 
 Tho' the nice Critic of faflidious France 
 
 Survey thy Song with many a fcornful glance, 
 
 And as a Goth the kinder judge accufe, 
 
 Who with their great Corneille commends thy Mufe, 
 
 Let Britain, eager as the Lefoian State 286 
 
 To fhield thj Pompey from the wrongs of Fate, 
 
 To thee with pride a fond attachment fhew, 
 
 Thou Bard of Freedom, tho' the world's thy foe. 
 
 As keenly fenfible of Beauty's fway, 290 
 
 Let our juft iile fuch generous honor pay 
 
 To the fair partner of thy haplefs life, 
 
 As LefDos paid to Pompey's lovely Wife. * 
 
 Ye feeling Painters, who with genius warm 
 
 Delineate Virtue in her foftefl form, 295 
 
 * Ver. 293. See NOTJ^ VIL 
 
 2 Let
 
 C 41 3 
 
 Let Argentaria on your canvafs fliine, * 
 
 A graceful mourner at her Poet's fLrine ; 
 
 For, nobly fearlefs of the Tyrant's hate, 
 
 She mourns her murder'd Bard in folemn ftate ; 
 
 With pious care fhe decks his fplendid tomb, 300 
 
 Where the dark Cyprefs flieds its foothing gloom, 
 
 There frequent takes her folitary ftand. 
 
 His dear Pharfalia in her faithful hand ; 
 
 That hand, whofe toil the Mufes ftill rehearfe, 
 
 Which fondly copied his unliniili'd Verfc, 305. 
 
 See, as fhe bends before his recent urn,. 
 
 See tender Grief to Adoration turn. 
 
 O lovely Mourner, could my Song beftow 
 
 Unfading glory on thy generous woe, 
 
 Age after age thy virtue fliould record, 310 
 
 And thou fhould'ft live immortal as thy Lord. 
 
 Him Liberty fliall crown with endlefs praife, 
 
 True to her caufe in Rome's degenerate days ; 
 
 Him, like his Brutus, her fond eye regards. 
 
 And hails him as the lafl of Roman Bards. 31^5 
 
 * Ver. 2o5. See NOTE VIII. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND EPISTLE. 
 
 G EPISTLE
 
 E P I S T L E 
 
 HE THIRD. 
 
 G 2
 
 ARGUMENT 
 
 OF THE THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 Sketch of the Northern a7id the Provenqal Poetry. — The 
 tnojl dijlmguified Epic Poets of Italy -^ Spa'm^ Portugal^ 
 France^ and England.
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
 EPISTLE III 
 
 I jLEST be the hand that with a generous carcj 
 -^^ To the bright Crown which Learning loves to wear, 
 Reftores the Gem, whofe luftre, faint and pale, 
 Died in the fold of dark Oblivion's veil. 
 Such praife, O Mason ! to the Bard is due, 5 
 
 In whofe fraternal guard thy Genius grew ; 
 O'er whofe untimely grave thy Lyre has paid 
 Its juft devotion to a Brother's fliade : 
 And thus hereafter fliall the Britifb Mufe, 
 In Memory's fane the faireft tablet chufe, lO 
 
 To bid her fons your blended names admire, 
 The pride of FriendHiip's as of Fancy's choir. 
 
 Thy modeft Gray, folicitous to pierce 
 The dark and diftant fource of modern Verfe, 
 By firings untried lirfl: taught his Eagllili Lyre 15 
 
 To reach the Gothic Harp's terrific fire : 
 
 The
 
 [ 46 ] 
 
 The North's wild fpcdres own his potent hanJ^ 
 
 And HelFs nine portals at his voice expand y, 
 
 AVith new exiftence by his Verfe endued, 
 
 See Gothic Fable wakes her fliadowy brood, 20 
 
 Which, in the Runic rhymes of many a Scaldj 
 
 With plealing dread our Northern fires appall'd*. 
 
 Ye brave Progenitors, ye vigorous Source 
 Of modern Freedom and of Europe's force. 
 While your rude minds, athirft for martial ftrife,- 25 
 
 Mock'd all the meaner arts of polifh'd life, 
 The Mufe ftill led you by her magic clue. 
 And from your favage ftrength new vigor drew. 
 In War's dire field your dauntlefs Bards appear'd^ 
 Aloft their animating harps they rear'd, 30 
 
 Pour'd through the charging hofl their potent ftrain,. 
 And fwell'd the fiery flood in Valor's vein. 
 
 Souls thus infpir'd, in every fcene elate, 
 Defied the utmofl: rage of adverfe fate ;, 
 In tort'ring death the Royal Captive fang, 3-5; 
 
 And fmiles of trium.ph hid his mortal pang. * 
 
 * Ver. 36. See NO T E I. 
 
 Thus
 
 [ 47 1 
 
 Thus to brave Odin's Songs, our Northern fire, 
 
 Rude, early framer of the modern Lyre, 
 
 Fierce Freedom gave an energy fublime, 
 
 Parent and Guardian of the Gothic Rhyme, 40 
 
 While nurtur'd in the North's protecting arms, 
 The modern Mufe difplay'd her infant charms. 
 Like Jove's undaunted Child her fpirit glovv'd, 
 And force Herculean in her cradle flievv'd ; 
 Her native fcene in rough nefs flie furpafl:, 45 
 
 Her breath tempeftuous as the Northern blaft : 
 But, when to fofter climes the vagrant flew. 
 And baflc'd beneath a fky of azure hue ; 
 When for her throne the flowery South flie chofe. 
 And form'd her crown of the Provencal Rofe ; 50 
 
 Warm'd by a brighter Sun's relaxing beams. 
 She tun'd her alter'd voice to tender themes : 
 Here her gay form a gaudier drefs aflTumes, 
 And fliines in Chivalry's imperial plumes ; 
 Her votaries wear proud Honor's myftic glove, 55 
 
 And every lyre refounds Romantic Love ; 
 Save when, to burft Oppreflion's mental chain. 
 Keen Satire mingles with this gallant train, 
 
 I Strikes
 
 [ 4B ] 
 
 Strikes Prieftly pride with Wit's vindictive flafh, 
 
 And galls the ghoftly Tyrant with her lafli. "" 60 
 
 Afraid of Pocfy's cxpanfive flood, 
 
 Thefe early Bards along the fhallows feud 
 
 In fome light fldff ; for on the depths untried 
 
 No fuU-trinim'd veffel floats in Epic pride. 
 
 As infajits, caQ;er for reG;ard, abound 65 
 
 In fportive efforts of uncertain found. 
 Before their little artlefs lips can reach 
 The harder elements of perfed fpeech ; 
 So the young language of each modern clime 
 Rofe by prelufive lays to lofty rhyme. 70 
 
 Thro' many an age, while, in the Convent bred, 
 O'er the chilFd mind fcholafdc darknefs fpread, 
 Tliofe keener Spirits, who from Nature caught 
 The warmth that kindles to Poetic thought, 
 Betray'd, Ambition ! by thy- blind deflre, 75 
 
 Struck with ill-fated zeal the Latlan lyre, f 
 Tho' Difcord's hand the jarring firings had crofl,; 
 And all the fwcctnefs of their tone was loPc. 
 
 * Ver. 60. See NOTE N. 
 
 t Vcfr. 76. Sec NOTE ILL 
 
 2 At
 
 [ 49 ] 
 
 At length, fair Italy, luxuriant land, 
 Where Art's rich flowers in earlieft bloom expand, Bo 
 Thy daring Dante his wild Vifion fung, * 
 And rais'd to Epic pomp his native Tongue. 
 Down Arno's ftream his new-form'd muflc floats. 
 The proud vale echoing with his Tufcan notes. 
 See the bold Bard now fink and now afcend, 85 
 
 Wherever Thought can pierce or Life extend ; 
 In his wide circuit from Hell's drear abyfs, 
 Thro' purifying fcenes to realms of perfect blifs, 
 He feems begirt with all that airy throng. 
 Who brighten or debafe the Poet's fong. 90 
 
 Sublimeft Fancy now diredls his march 
 To opening worlds, through that infernal arch 
 O'er whofe rough fummit aweful words are read, 
 That freeze each entering foul with hopelefs dread. 
 Now at her bidding his ftrong numbers flow, 95 
 
 And rend the heart at Ugolino's woe ; 
 While Nature's glory-giving tear bedews 
 A tale unrivall'd by the Grecian Mufe. 
 - Now to thofe notes that milder grief infpire, 
 Pathetic Tendernefs attunes his lyre, 100 
 
 * Vcr. 81. See NOTE IV. 
 
 H which.
 
 [ 50 ] 
 
 Which, foft as murmurs of the plaintive dove. 
 Tells the fad ifiue of illicit love. 
 But all the worfe companions of his way- 
 Soon into different founds his dudile voice betray : 
 Satiric Fury now appears his guide, 105 
 
 Thro' thorny paths of Enmity and Pride ; 
 Now quaint Conceit his wand'ring fteps mifleads 
 Thro' all the hideous forms that Folly breeds ; 
 Now Fricflly DuUnefs the loft Bard enfhrouds 
 In cold confufion and fcholaftic clouds. no 
 
 Unequal Spirit ! in thy various ftrain, 
 With all their influence Light and Darknefs reign ; 
 In thy ftrange Verfe and wayward Theme alike 
 New forms of Beauty and Diforder ftrike ; 
 Extremes of Harmony and Difcord dwell, 115 
 
 The Seraph's mufic and the Demon's yell ! 
 The patient Reader, to thy merit juft. 
 With tranfport glov/s, and fhudders with difgufl:. 
 Thy Failings fprung from thy dilaftrous time ; 
 Thy ftronger Beauties from a foul fublime, ra.o 
 
 Whofe vio-or burft, like the volcano's flame, 
 From central darknefs to the fphere of fame.,. 
 
 3 Of
 
 [ 5^ ] 
 
 Of gentler mind, and with a heart to feel 
 The fondeft warmth of emulative zeal, 
 Thy feftive Scholar, who ador'd thy Lays, 125 
 
 And grac'd thy Genius with no fcanty praife. 
 The gay Boccacio, tempts th' Italian Mufe * 
 More varied notes and different themes to chufe ; 
 Themes which her voice had dar'd not yet to found, 
 Valour's heroic feats by Beauty crown'd. 130 
 
 Sweet was the glowing Song ; but, ftrange to tell. 
 On his bold lyre Oblivion's fhadows fell ; 
 His richer Tales engrofs'd the World's regard, 
 And the bright Novelift eclips'd the Bard. 
 
 In following ages, when Italia's fliore 135. 
 
 Blaz'd with the rifing light of Claffic lore, 
 
 Stern Syftem led, from her nev/-founded fchool, 
 
 A Poet fafliion'd by her rigid rule : 
 
 Behold my Son ! (his fapient Tut'refs cried) 
 
 Who throws the bonds of Gothic rhyme aiidc ; 140 
 
 For whom thefe hands the Grecian Lyre new ftrung : 
 
 She fpoke exulting, and Trissino fung. f 
 
 * Ver. 127. See NOTE V. 
 t Ver. 142. See N O T E VI. 
 
 H 2 In
 
 [ 52 ] 
 
 In his cold Vcrfe he kept her Critic laws. 
 While Pedants ovvn*d their pow'r, and yawn'd applaufe. 
 Indignant Fancy, who with fcorn furvey'd 145 
 
 The fleepy honors to proud Syftem paid, 
 Smiling to fee that on her rival's brow 
 The Poppy lurk'd beneath the Laurel bough, 
 Refolv'd in fportive triumph to difplay 
 The rich extent of her fuperior fway : 150 
 
 From Necromancy's hand, in happieft hour. 
 She caught the rod of viiionary power; 
 And as aloft the magic wand Jfhe rais'd, 
 A peerlefs Bard with new effulgence blaz'd. 
 Born every law of Syftem to difown,, 15 c 
 
 And rule by Fancy's boundlefs power alone. 
 High in mid air, between the Moon and Earth, 
 The Bard of Pathos now, and now of Mirth. 
 Pois'd with his lyre between a Griffin's wings, 
 Her fportive darling, Ariosto, fings. 160 
 
 As the light cloud, whofe varying vapors fly, 
 Driven by the zephyr of the evening fky, 
 Fixes and charms the never-wearied view, 
 By taking every fhape and every hue j 
 
 So,
 
 I 53 } 
 
 So, by Variety's fapreme controul, 165 
 
 His changeful numbers feize the willing fouL- 
 
 Enchanted by his Song, Attention fits, 
 
 With features catching every cafl: by fits, 
 
 Like the fond infant, in whofe tender brairt 
 
 Young Senfibility delights to reign; 170 
 
 While rapid Joy and Pain each other chafe 
 
 Thro' the foft mufcies of its April face. 
 
 In vain the fl'aves of Syfteni would difcard 
 
 From Glory's clafiic train this airy Bard j 
 
 Delighted Nature her gay fav'rite crown'd, 175 
 
 And Envy's clamour in her plaudit drown'd^ 
 
 Severe Morality, to cenfure mov'd,. 
 
 Hrs w^anton Lyre with juflcr blame reprov'd y 
 
 But his fweet Song her anger fo begull'd, 
 
 That, er ''«'" finifh'd her reproof, flie fmil'd* 180 
 
 Of chafter fire, a rival name fuccceds, 
 Whofe bold and o-lowin^: hand Religrion leads :. 
 In folemn accent, and in facred ftate. 
 With clafiic lore and Chriftian zeal elate, 
 Sweetly pathetic,, and fublimely flirong,, 185. 
 
 Tajsso begins his more majeftic fong ;, 
 
 H s The
 
 [ 54 ] 
 
 The Mufc of Sion, not implored in vain, 
 Xiuidcs to th' impaiTion'd foul liis heavenly ftraiii. 
 Blufh, BoiLEAU, blulli, and for that pride atone, 
 Which flandcr'd Genius far above thy own ; 190 
 
 And thou, great injur'd Bard, thy ftation claina 
 Amid the Demi-gods of Epic name ; 
 Heir to a mantle by the Mufes fpun. 
 Of a poetic Sire the more poetic Son. * 
 
 Nor, tno' juft Fame her richer palm devote 195 
 
 To the high-founding lyre of ferious note, 
 Shall gay Tassoni want his feflive crown, f 
 Who banifn'd from the Mufe her aweful frown, 
 And, tuning to light themes her lofty ftyle, 
 O'er her grave features fpread a comic fmilc, 200 
 
 Such various Sons, of Epic nre poffeft, 
 Italia fcfter'd on her feeling breaft. 
 
 Spain, whofe bold genius with misjudging pride 
 O'erfteps true glory by too large a llride, 
 -Claims higher merit from one Poet's birth, 205 
 
 Who rivals all the different Bards of earth : 
 
 * Vcr. 194. See NOTE VII. 
 t Ver. 107. See N O T E Vill, 
 
 With
 
 * 
 
 [ 55 ] 
 
 With more than Niobe's parental boaft, 
 
 She calls her lingle Son himfelf an Hoft, 
 
 And rafhly judges that her Vega's lyre 
 
 Is equal to the whole Aonian quire. 210 
 
 Impetuous Poet ! whofe full brain fupplied 
 
 Such floods of Verfe, and in fo quick a tide, 
 
 Their rapid fwell, by its unrivall'd height, 
 
 Pleas'dj yet produc'd more wonder than delight : 
 
 Tho' thy free rhyme from Fancy's fountain gufli, 215 
 
 And with the grandeur of the torrent rufii. 
 
 Its troubled ftreams in dark diforder roam. 
 
 With all the torrent's noife and all its foam. 
 
 To Emulation iir'd by Tasso's ftrain, 
 
 Thy fpirit quitted the dramatic plain tio 
 
 To feek thofe Epic heights, fublimely calm. 
 
 Whence he had pluck'd his Idumean palm ; 
 
 But, vainly flruggling in a tafk too hard. 
 
 Sunk at the feet of that fuperior Bard. 
 
 Brave Spaniard ! ftill thy wounded pride confole ; 225 
 
 Time fliall not ftrike thy name from Glory's roll, 
 
 * Ver. 209. See NOTE IX. 
 
 On
 
 [ 56 ] 
 
 On which thy generous and fraternal hand 
 
 Emblaz'd each brother of thy tuneful band ; 
 
 Thy Mufe fliall fliare the praife fhe joy'd to give, 
 
 And while thy language lafts thy fame fhall live. 230 
 
 Perchance, tho' ftrange the paradox may feem, 
 
 That fame had rifen with a brighter beam, 
 
 Had radiant Fancy lefs enrich'd thy mind: 
 
 Her lavifli wealth, for wifer ufe defign'd, 
 
 Ruin'd the Poet by its fplendid lure, 235 
 
 As India's mines have made his country poor. 
 
 With warmth more temperate, and in notes more clear. 
 That with Homeric richnefs fill the ear. 
 The brave Ercilla founds, with potent breath, * 
 His Epic trumpet in the fields of death. 240 
 
 In fcenes of favage war when Spain unfurl'd 
 Her bloody banners o'er the wcilern world. 
 With all his Country's virtues in his frame. 
 Without the bafe alloy tliat; ftain'd her name, 
 I;n Danger's camp this military Ba;r;d3 245 
 
 Whom Cynthia fliw on his noclurnal guard, 
 
 * Ver. 239. See NOTE X, 
 
 Q Recorded,
 
 C 57 ] 
 
 Recorded, in his bold defcriptive lay, 
 
 The various fortune of the finifh'd day ; 
 
 Seizing the pen while Night's calm hours afford 
 
 A tranfient {lumber to his fatiate fword, 250 
 
 With noble juftice his warm hand beftows 
 
 The meed of Honor on his valiant foes. 
 
 However precluded, by his generous aim, 
 
 From high pretenfions to inventive fame. 
 
 His ftrongly-colour'd fcenes of fanguine ftrife, ^55 
 
 His fofter pidlures caught from Indian life, 
 
 Above the viiionary forms of art. 
 
 Fire the awaken' d mind and melt the heart. 
 
 Tho' fierceft tribes her galling fetters drag, 
 Proud Spain muft flrike to Lufitania's flag, 260 
 
 Whofe ampler folds, in confcious triumph fpread, 
 Wave o'er her Naval Poet's laureate head. 
 Ye Nymphs of Tagus, from your golden cell. 
 That caught the echo of his tuneful fliell. 
 Rife, and to deck your darling's fhrine provide 265 
 
 The richeft treafures that the deep may hide : 
 From every land let grateful Commerce fliower 
 Her tribute to the Bard who fung her power ; 
 
 I As
 
 C 58 ] 
 
 As thofe rich gales, from whence his Gama caught 
 
 A pleafing earneft of the prize he fought, 270 
 
 The balmy fragrance of the Eaft difpenfe, 
 
 So fteals his Song on the delighted fenfe, 
 
 Aftonifhing, with fweets unknown before, 
 
 Thofe who ne'er tafted but of clafTic lore. 
 
 Immortal Bard, thy name with Gama vies, 275 
 
 Thou, like thy Hero, with propitious fkies 
 
 The fail of bold adventure haft unfurl'd,, 
 
 And in the Epic ocean found a world.. 
 
 'Twas thine to blend the Eagle and the Dove, 
 
 At once the Bard of Glory and of Love : * 280 
 
 Thy thanklefs Country heard thy varying lyre 
 
 To Petrarch's Softnefs melt, and fwell to Homer's Fire! 
 
 Boaft and lament, ungrateful land, a Name, 
 
 In life, in death, thy honor and thy fhame. 
 
 Thou nobler realm, whom vanity betrays 285 
 
 To load thy letter'd fons with lavifli praife ;, 
 
 Where Eulogy, with one eternal fmile, f 
 
 Heaps her faint rofes in a withering pile :. 
 
 * Ver. 280. See NOTE XI. 
 t Ver. 287. See NOTE XU, 
 
 A City
 
 [ 59 ] 
 
 A City milk-maid, on the firft of May, 
 
 Who, pertly civil, and abfurdly gay, 290 
 
 Forms her dull garland in fantaftic ftate, 
 
 With ill-adjufted flow'rs and borrow'd plate. 
 
 Canft thou, felf-flattering France, with juftice vaunt 
 
 One Epic laurel as thy native plant ? 
 
 How oft a Gallic hand, with childifli fire, 295 
 
 Has rattled Difcord on th' heroic lyre. 
 
 While their dull aid aflbciate Critics bring. 
 
 And vainly teach the ufe of every firing! 
 
 In Morals, as, with many an empty boaft. 
 
 They pradlife virtue leaf!; who preach it moft ; 300 
 
 So, haughty Gallia, in thy Epic fchool. 
 
 No great Examples rife, but many a Rule.* 
 
 Yet, tho' unjufi: to Tasso's nobler lays, 
 Keen Boileau fhall not want his proper praife ; f 
 He, archly waving his fatiric rod 305 
 
 Thro' the new path wJiich firft Tassoni trod, 
 Purfued his fportive march in happy hour^ 
 And pluck'd from Satire's thorn a feftive flower. 
 * Ver. 302. See NOTE XIII. 
 t Ver, 304. Sec NOTE XIV. 
 
 I 2 His
 
 [ 6o ] 
 
 His facerdotal War (hall wake delight^ 
 
 And fmilcs in Gravity herfelf excite, 310 
 
 While Canons live to quarrel or to feaft, 
 
 And gall can tinge the fpirit of a Prieft. 
 
 Nor, gentle Gresset^ fliall thy fprightly rhyme * 
 Ceafe to enchant the lift'ning ear of Time : 
 In thee the Graces all their powers inftill, 315 
 
 To touch the Epic chords with playful fkilL 
 The haplefs Parrot whom thy lays endear^ 
 In piety and woe the Trojan's peer ; 
 His heart as tender, and his love more pure, 
 Shall, like iEneas, live of fame fee u re ; 32Q 
 
 While female hands, with many a tender wordy 
 Stroke the foft feathers of their fav'rite bird. 
 
 Yet not in childifh fport, or trifling joy. 
 Do Gallic Fair-ones all their hours employ : 
 See lovely BoccAGE, in ambition ftrong, -f 325 
 
 Build, with afpiring aim, her Epic Song I 
 By Glory fir'd, her rofy lips rehearfe 
 Thy feats, Columbus, in unborrow'd Verfe. 
 
 * Ver. 313. See NOTE XV. 
 
 t Ver. 325. See NOTE XVI. 
 
 If
 
 [ 6x ] 
 
 If this new Mufe in War's dire field difplays 
 
 No Grecian fplendor, no Homeric blaze^ 33c 
 
 Attractive ftill, tho' not in pomp arrayed. 
 
 She charms like Zama, in her Verfe portray'd j 
 
 Whofe form from drefs no gorgeous pride affumes. 
 
 Clad in a fimple zone of azure plumes. 
 
 England's dear gueft ! this Mufe of Gallia caught 335 
 
 From our infpiring Ifle her ardent thought ; 
 
 Here firft flie ftrove to reach, with vent'rous hope, 
 
 Milton's chafte grandeur, and the grace of Pope ; 
 
 And fweetly taught, in her mimetic ftrain. 
 
 The Songs of Britain to the Banks of Seine. 340 
 
 But fee ! with wounded Pride's indignant glance, 
 The angry Genius of prefuming France 
 From ancient fhrines their Epic wreaths would tear^ 
 To fwell the glory of her great Voltaire. * 
 
 O, form'd in Learning's various paths to fhine, 345 
 Encircled from thy birth by all the Nine, 
 On thee, bleft Bard, thefe rivals feem'd to fliower 
 Their various attributes and blended power I 
 
 * Ver. 344. See NOTE XVII. 
 9 But,
 
 [ 62 ] 
 
 But, when their lofty leader bade thee frame 
 Th€ rich Heroic fong on Henry's fame, 350 
 
 Sarcaftic Humour, trifling with her lyre, 
 Took from th' infpiring Mufe her folemn fire. 
 No more her fpirit like the Eagle fprings, 
 Or rides the buoyant air with balanc'd wings : 
 Tho' rapid ftill, to narrow circuits bound, 355 
 
 She, like the darting Swallow, fkims the ground. 
 Thy Verfe difplays, beneath an Epic name, 
 Wit's flinty Spark, for Fancy's folar Flame. 
 While yet thy hand the Epic chords embrac'd. 
 With playful fpirit, and with frolic hafte, 360 
 
 Such lively founds thy rapid fingers drew, 
 And thro' the fefl:ive notes fo lightly flew, 
 Nature and Fancy join'd their charms to fwell. 
 And laughing Humour crown'd thy new Pucelle : 
 But the chafte Mufes, ftartled at the found, 365 
 
 Amid thy fprightly numbers blufli'd and frown'd ; 
 With decent anger, and becoming pride, 
 Severer Virtue threw the Song afide ; 
 While Juftice own'd it, with a kinder glance, 
 The wittiefl Levity of wanton France. 370 
 
 Now,
 
 [ 63 J 
 
 Now, graver Britain, amiably fevere, 
 To thee, with native zeal, to thee I fteer; 
 My ventVous bark, its foreign circuit o'er, 
 Exulting fprings to thy parental fliore. 
 
 Thou gorgeous Queen, who on thy filvery coaft, 375 
 Sitteft encircled by a filial hoft. 
 And feefl: thy fons, the jewels of thy crown. 
 Blaze with each varying ray of rich renown ; 
 If with juft love I hold their Genius dear. 
 Lament their hardfhips, and their fame revere, 380 
 
 O bid thy Epic Mufe, with honor due. 
 Range her departed Champions in my view ! 
 
 See, on a party-colour'd fteed of fire. 
 With Humour at his fide, his trufty Squire, 
 Gay Chaucer leads — in form a Knight of old,. 385 
 
 And his ftrong armour is of fteel and gold y 
 But o'er it age a cruel ruft has fpread,^ 
 And made the brilliant metals dark as lead. 
 
 Now gentle Spenser, Fancy's fav'rite Bard,. 
 Awakes my wonder and my fond regard ; 3-90 
 
 Encircling Fairies bear, in fportive dance, 
 His adamantine fhield and magic lance ;, 
 
 i While
 
 [ 64 3 
 
 While Allegory, dreft: with myftic art, 
 
 Appears his Guide ; but, promifing to dart 
 
 A lambent glory round herlift'ning Son, 395. 
 
 She hides him in the web herfelf has fpun. 
 
 Ingenuous Cowlev, the fond dupe of Wit, 
 Seems like a vapour o'er the field to flit; 
 In David's praife he fl:rikes fome Epic notes. 
 But foon down Lethe's ftream their dying murmur floats. 
 
 While Cowley vanifli'd in an amorous riddle, 401 
 Up rofe the frolic Bard of Bear and Fiddle : 
 His fmile exhilarates the fullen earth. 
 Adorning Satire in the mafk of Mirth : 
 Taught by his Song, Fanatics ceafe their jars, 405 
 
 And wife Aftrologers renounce the Stars. 
 Unrivaird Butler ! bleft with happy fkill 
 To heal by comic verfe each ferious ill. 
 By Wit's ftrong flaflies Reafon's light difpenfe. 
 And laugh a frantic nation into fcnfe ! 410 
 
 Apart, and on a facred hill retir'd. 
 Beyond all mortal infpiration fir'd, 
 The mighty Miltcn fits — an hoft around 
 Of lift'ning Angels guard the holy ground ; 
 
 Amaz'd
 
 [ 65 ] 
 
 Amaz'd they fee a human form afpire 415 
 
 To grafp with daring hand a Seraph's lyre, 
 
 Inly irradiate with celeftial beams, 
 
 Attempt thofe high, thofe foul-fubduing themes, 
 
 (Which humbler Denizens of Heaven decline) 
 
 And celebrate, with fandlity divine, 420 
 
 The ftarry field from warring Angels won, 
 
 And God triumphant in his Vidor Son. 
 
 Nor lefs the wonder, and the fvveet delight, 
 
 His milder fcenes and fofter notes excite. 
 
 When at his bidding Eden's blooming grove 425 
 
 Breathes the rich fweets of Innocence and Love. 
 
 With fuch pure joy as our Forefather knew 
 
 When Raphael, heavenly gueft, firift met his view. 
 
 And our glad Sire, within his blifsful bower, 
 
 Drank the pure converfe of th' setherial Power, 430 
 
 Round the bleft Bard his raptur'd audience throng. 
 
 And feel their fouls imparadis'd in fong. 
 
 Of humbler mien, but not of mortal race, 
 Ill-fated Dryden, with Imperial grace, 
 Gives to th' obedient lyre his rapid laws ; 435 
 
 Tones yet unheard, v/ith touch divine, he draws, 
 
 K The
 
 [ 66 ] 
 
 The melting fall, the rifmg fwell fublime, 
 
 And all the magic of melodious rhyme. 
 
 See with proud joy Imagination fpread 
 
 A wreath of honor round his aged head ! 440 
 
 But two bafe Spedtres, tho' of different hue, 
 
 The Bard unhappy in his march purfue; 
 
 Two vile difgraceful Fiends, of race accurft, 
 
 Conceiv'd by Spleen, by meagre Famine nurft, 
 
 Malignant Satire, mercenary Praife, 445 
 
 Shed their dark fpots on his immortal bays. 
 
 Poor Dave N ANT march'd before, with nobler aim, 
 His keen eye fixt upon the palm of Fame, 
 But cruel Fortune doom'd him to rehearfe 
 A Theme ill-chofen, in ill-chofen Verfe, 450 
 
 Next came Sir Richard, but in woeful plight, 
 Dryden's Led-horfe hrft threw the lucklefs Knight. 
 He rofe adventurous ftill — O who may count 
 How oft he tried a different Steed to mount ! 
 Each angry fteed his awkward rider flung ; 455 
 
 Undaunted ftill he fell, and falling fung. 
 
 But i^fculapius, who, with grief diflreft. 
 Beheld his offspring made a public jeft, 
 
 Scon
 
 [ 67 ] 
 
 Soon bade a livelier Son with mirth efface 
 
 The fliame he fuffer'd from Sir Richard's cafe. 460 
 
 Swift at the word his fprightly Garth began 
 
 To make an * helmet of a Clofe-ftool Pan ; 
 
 An Urinal he for his trumpet takes, 
 
 And at each blaft he blows fee Lau2;hter fhakes. 
 
 Yet peace — new mufic floats on Other's wings ; 465 
 Say, is it Harmony herfelf who flngs ? 
 No ! while enraptur'd Sylphs the Song infpire, 
 'Tis Pope who fweetly wakes the fllver lyre 
 To melting notes, more muflcally clear 
 Than Ariel whifper'd in Belinda's ear. 4jO 
 
 Too foon he quits them for a fharper tone ; 
 See him, tho' form'd to fill the Epic throne, 
 Decline the fceptre of that wide domain, 
 To bear a Lidlor's rod in Satire's train ; 
 And, fhrouded in a mifl: of moral fpleen, f 47-5 
 
 Behold him clofe the vifionary fcene ! 
 
 * And his high helmet was a Clofe-ftool Pan. Dispensap.y. 
 t Ver. 475. See NOTE XVIII. 
 
 END OF THE THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 K;2 EPISTLE
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 THE FOURTH.
 
 A R G U M E N T 
 
 OF THE FOURTH EPISTLE. 
 
 Remarks on the fuppofed Parftmony of Nature in befiowing 
 Poetic Ge?tius, — 'The Evils a?id the Advantages of Poetry, 
 exemplified in the Fate of differ erit Poets.^
 
 i 7« 3 
 
 EPISTLE IV. 
 
 A Y, generous Power, benignant Nature, favj 
 Who temp'reft with thy touch our human clay, 
 Warming the fields of Thought with genial care^ 
 The various fruits of mental growth to bearj 
 Shall not thy vot'ries glow with jufl difdain, 5 
 
 When Sloth or Spleen thy bounteous hand arraign ? 
 Art thou the Niggard they pretend thou art, 
 A grudging Parent with a Stepdame's heart ; 
 And doft thou fhed, with rare, reluctant toil. 
 Bright Fancy's germins in the mental foil? 10 
 
 Is Genius, thy fweet Plant of richeft power, 
 Whofe dearly pri^'d and long-expecled flower 
 More tardy than the Aloe's bloom appears, 
 Ordain'd to blow but in a thoufand years ? 
 Perifli the fickly thought — let thofe who hold 15 
 
 Thy quick'ning influence fo coy, fo cold, 
 
 5 Calmly
 
 20 
 
 t 72 ] 
 
 Calmly the habitable earth furvey, 
 
 From time's firft sera to the paffing day ; 
 
 In what rude clime, beneath what angry fkies, 
 
 Have plants Poetic never dar'd to rife ? 
 
 In torrid regions, where 'tis toil to think, 
 
 Where fouls in ftupid eafe fupinely fink ; 
 
 And where the native of the defert drear 
 
 Yields to blank darknefs half his icy year ; 
 
 In thefe unfriendly fcenes, v/here each extreme 25 
 
 Of heat and cold forbids the mind to teem. 
 
 Poetic bloffoms into Being ftart, 
 
 Spontaneous produce of the feeling heart. 
 
 Can we then deem that in thofe happier lands, 
 Where every vital energy expands ; ' 30 
 
 Where Thought, the golden harvefl: of the mind, 
 
 Springs into rich luxuriance, unconfin'd-; 
 
 That in fuch foils, with mental weeds o'ergrown, 
 
 The Seeds of Poefy were thinly fown ? 
 
 Shall we deny the labor of the fwain, 35 
 
 Who to the cultur'd earth confides the grain. 
 
 If all the vagrant harpies of the air 
 
 From its new bed the preo:nant treafure tear : 
 
 7 ^*- n,
 
 [ 73 ] 
 
 If, when fcarce rifing, with a ftem infirm, 
 
 It dies the vidim of the mining worm ; 40 
 
 If mildew, riding in the eaftern guft, 
 
 Turns all its ripening gold to fable duft ? 
 
 Thefe foes combin'd (and with them who may cope ?) 
 Are not more hoftile to the Farmer's hope. 
 Than Life's keen paflions to that lighter grain 4^ 
 
 Of Fancy, fcatter'd o'er the infant brain. 
 Pleafure, the rambling Bird ! the painted Jay ! 
 May fnatch the richeft feeds of Verfe away ; 
 Gr Indolence, the worm that winds with art 
 Thro' the clofe texture of the cleaneft heart,: 50 
 
 May, if they haply have begun to fhoot, 
 With partial mifchief wound the fick'ning root ;; 
 Or Avarice, the mildew of the foul, 
 May fweep the mental field and blight the whole • 
 Nay, the meek errors of the modeft mind,., r ^ 
 
 To its own vigor diffidently blind,, 
 And that cold fpleen, which falfely has declar'd 
 The powers of Nature and of Art impair'd, 
 The gate that Genius has unclos'd may guard,. 
 And rivet to the earth the rifing Bard : 60 
 
 lir- For"
 
 [ 74 ] 
 
 Por who. will quit, tho' from mean. aims exempt, 
 
 The cares that fummon, and the joys that tempt. 
 
 In many a lonely ftudious hour to try 
 
 Where latent fprings of Poefy may lie ; 
 
 Who will from focial eafe his mind divorce, 65 
 
 To prove in Arty's wide field its fecret force, 
 
 If, blind to Nature^s frank parental love. 
 
 He deems that Verfe, defcended from above, 
 
 Like Heaven^ s more facred figns, whofe time is o'er, 
 
 A gift miraculous, conferred no more ? 70 
 
 O Prejudice! thou bane'bf Arts, thou peft, 
 Whofe rufHan powers the free-born foul arreft ; 
 Thou who, dethroning Reafon, dar'ft to frame 
 And iffue thy proud laws beneath her name 3 
 Thou Coafter on the intelledlual deep, 75 
 
 Ordering each timid bark thy courfe to keep ; 
 Who, left fome daring mind beyond thee fteer. 
 Haft rais'd, to vouch thy vanity and fear, 
 Herculean pillars where thy fail was furFd, 
 And nam'd thv bounds the Limits of the World. So 
 
 Thou braggart. Prejudice, how oft thy breath 
 Has doom'd young Genius to the fliades of death ! 
 
 How
 
 C 75 ] 
 
 How often has thy voice, with brutal fire 
 
 Forbidding Female hands to touch the lyre, 
 
 Deny'd to Woman, Nature's fav'rite child, 85 
 
 The right to enter Fancy's opening wild I 
 
 Bleft be this fmiling hour, when Britain fees 
 
 Her Fair- ones cancel fuch abfurd decrees. 
 
 In one harmonious group, with graceful fcorn. 
 
 Spring o'er the Pedant's fence of wither'd thorn, go 
 
 And reach Parnaffian heights, where, laurel-crown'd. 
 
 This fofter Quire the notes of triumph found ; 
 
 Where Seward, leader of the lovely train. 
 
 Pours o'er heroic tombs her potent ftrain ; 
 
 Potent to footh the honor'd dead, and dart or 
 
 Congenial virtue thro' each panting heart; 
 
 Potent thro' fpirits mafculine to fpread 
 
 Poetic jealoufy and envious dread ; 
 
 If Love and Envy could in union reft, 
 
 And rule with blended fvvay a Poet's breaft ; 100 
 
 The Bards of Britain, with unjaundic'd eyes, 
 
 Will glory to behold fuch rivals rife. 
 
 Proceed, ye Sifters of the tuneful Shell, * 
 
 Without a fcruple, in that Art excel, 
 
 * Ver. 103. Sec NOTE I. 
 
 L 2 Which
 
 [ 76 ] 
 
 Which reignsj by virtuous Pleafure's foft controul, 105 
 In fweet accordance with the Female foul ; 
 Pure as yourfelves, and like your charms defign'd 
 To blefs the earth, and humanize mankind. 
 Where'er that Parent of engaging thought, 
 Warm Senlibility, like light, has taught IIO 
 
 The bright'ning mirror of the mind to fhew 
 Nature's refledled forms in all their glow ^ 
 Where in full tides the fine affections roll, 
 And the warm heart invigorates the foul ; 
 In that rich fpot^ where winds propitious blow, 115; 
 
 Culture may teach poetic Fame to grow. 
 Refin'd Invention and harmonious Rhyme, 
 Are the flow gifts of Study and of Time ; 
 But to the Bard whom all the Mufes court, 
 His Sports are ftudy, and his Studies fport. 120 
 
 E'en at this period, when all tongues declare 
 Poetic talents are a gift moft rare, 
 Unnumber'd Spirits, in our generous ifle, 
 Are ripening now beneath kind Nature's fmile. 
 Whom happy care might lead to lafting fame, 125 
 
 And art ennoble with a Poet's name. 
 
 Not
 
 C 77 ] 
 
 Not that 'tis granted this high prize to gairr 
 By light effufions of a fportive vein, 
 The idle Ballad of a fummer's morn, 
 The child of Frolic, in a moment born : 130 
 
 Who views fuch trifles with a vain regard. 
 But ill deferves the mighty name of Bard ; 
 In diff'rent tints fee virtuous Gresset trace 
 The genuine fpirit of Poetic race : 
 
 * Let the true Bard (this pleafing Poet fings) 135 
 
 Bid his fair fame on ftrong foundations reft ; 
 
 His be each honour that from Genius fprings, 
 Efteem'd by Judgm.ent, and by Love careft j 
 
 His the Ambition, that in climes unknown, 
 
 Where'er his wand'ring v^olume may extend, 1-40 
 
 Where'er that Picture of his mind is fhewn. 
 In every Reader he may find a Friend. 
 
 * Je venx qu'epris d'un nom plus legitime^. 
 Que non content de fe voir cftime. 
 Par fon Genie un Amant de la rime 
 Empcne encor le plaiiir d'etre aimc ; 
 
 Qu'aux regions a lui meme inconnues 
 Ou voleront fes gracieux ecrits, 
 
 A ce tableau de fes moeurs ingenues, 
 Tous its Lefteurs deviennent fes Amis 
 
 Be 
 
 Qiie
 
 C 78 ] 
 
 Be It his aim to dart the living ray 
 
 Of pureft pleafure o'er th' enlighten'd earth ; 
 
 And in fweet union let his works difplay 145 
 
 The Poet's fancy and the Patriot's worth. 
 
 Thus far, O Gresset, on thefe points agreed, 
 My foul profefles thy Poetic Creed ; 
 Tho* the foft languor of thy fong I blame, 
 Which prefent eafe prefers to future fame, i jO 
 
 Thy nobler maxims I with pride embrace, 
 That Verfe fhou'd ever rife on Virtue's bafe, 
 And every mafxer of this matchlefs art 
 Exalt the Spirit, and improve the Heart ; 
 And many a Youth, now rifing into Man, 155 
 
 Might build his glory on this noble plan, 
 With latent powers to make the ftrudlure laft 
 Till Nature dies, and Time itfelf be paft : 
 But O, how intricate the chances lurk, 
 Whofe power may drive him from the doubtful work! 160 
 Of the ftrong minds by chaflie Ambition nurft. 
 Who burn to rank in Honor's line the firft, 
 
 Que difTipant le prejuge vulgaire, 
 
 II montreenfin que fans crime on petit plaire, 
 
 Et reunir, par un heureux lien, 
 
 L' Auccur charmant et le vrai Citoyen. 
 
 One
 
 [ 79 ] 
 
 One leaves the Lyre to feize the martial crown, 
 
 And one may drop it at a Parent's frown j 
 
 For ftill with fcorn, which anxious fear inflames, 165 
 
 Parental care 'gainft Poefy declaims ! 
 
 *^ Fly, fly, my fon, (the fond advifer cries) 
 '* That thorny path, where every peril lies; 
 ** Oh ! be not thou by that vain Art betray'd, 
 '' Whofe pains are Subfl:ance, and whofe joys are Shade ! 
 ** Mark, in the Mufes' miferable throng, 171 
 
 " What air-built vifions cheat the Sons of Song ! 
 *' This is a leflbn taught in every fl:reet, 
 " And Bards may read it at each Stall they meet : 
 " Take the firfl: book, behold in many a page 175 
 
 " What promifes of life from age to age ; 
 " The Poet fwears himfelf he ne'er fliall die, 
 " A troop of rhyming friends fupport the lie : 
 *' Yet fee how foon in Lethe's fl:ream expire 
 " This leading Bard and his attendant Quire, 180 
 
 " And round thefe boards, their unexpeded bier, 
 ^' Their shofts breathe wifdom in the pafiing ear : 
 " For Stalls, like Church-yards, moral truth fupply, 
 '' And teach the vifionary Bard to die. 
 
 ^' If
 
 [ So ] 
 
 ^' If prefcnt fame, tliy aliy hope, be gain'd, 185 
 
 ** By vigils purchas'd, and by toil maintained, 
 
 '* What bafe alloy mull fink the doubtful prize, 
 
 ^' Which Envy poifons, and which Spleen denies ! 
 
 '^ Obferve what ills the living Bard attend, 
 
 " Negledl his lot, and Penury his end! j.qo 
 
 *' Behold the world unequally requite. 
 
 *' Two Arts that minifter to chafte delight, 
 
 *' Twin-fifters, who with kindred beauty ftrike 
 
 " In fortune different, as in charms alike : 
 
 *' Painting, fair Danae ! has her Golden fliower, 195 
 
 *' But Want is Poesy's proverbial dower. 
 
 ^^ See, while with brilliant genius, ill applied, 
 ^} The noble Rubens flatters Royal pride, 
 '' Makes all the Virtues, who abjur'd him, wait 
 " On abjed James, in allegoric ftate ; 200 
 
 " O'er the bafe Pedant his rich radiance flings, 
 *■' And deifies the meaneft of our Kings ; 
 " His Son rewards, and Honor owns the deed, 
 ** The fplendid Artift with a princely meed. 
 ^' Now turn to Milton's latter days, and fee 205 
 
 *' How Bards and Painters in their fate agree ; 
 
 2 «' Behold
 
 [ 8i ] 
 
 ^^ Behold him fell his heaven-illumin'd page, 
 
 ** Mirac'lous child of his deferted age, 
 
 '' For fuch a pittance, fo ignobly flight, 
 
 " As wounded Learning blufhes to recite ! * 210 
 
 ^^ If changing times fuggeft the pleafing hope, 
 *' That Bards no more with adverfe fortune cope ; 
 ^' That in this alter'd clime, where Arts increafe, 
 *' And make our polifli'd Ifle a fecond Greece ; 
 *^ That now, if Poefy proclaims her Son, 215 
 
 *' And challenges the wreath by Fancy won ; 
 *' Both Fame and Wealth adopt him as their heir, 
 ^' And liberal Grandeur makes his life her care j 
 *' From fuch vain thoughts thy erring mind defend, 
 *' And look on Chatterton's difaftrous end. 220 
 
 *' Oh, ill-ftarr'd Youth, whom Nature form'd^ in vain, 
 *' With powers on Pindus' fplendid height to reign ! 
 ^' O dread example of what pangs av/ait 
 *' Young Genius ftruggling with malignant fate ! ' 
 *' What could the Mufe, who fir'd thy infant frame 225 
 '^ With the rich promife of Poetic fame ; 
 
 f Ver. 210. See NOTE M. 
 
 M " Who
 
 [ 82 ] 
 
 *' Who taught thy hand its magic art to hide, 
 '' And mock the infolence of Critic pride ; 
 *' What cou'd her uiiavailing cares oppofe, 
 
 To fave her darling from his defperate foes ; 230 
 
 From preffing Want's calamitous controul, 
 And Pride,- the fever of the ardent foul ?. 
 ** Ah, fee, too confcious of her failing power^ 
 " She quits her Nurfling in his deathful hour ! 
 *' In a chill room, within whofe wretched wall 235. 
 
 '' No cheering voice replies to Mifery's call ^ 
 *' Near a vile bed, too crazy to fuftain 
 '^ Misfortune's wafted limbs, convuls'd with painy, 
 *^ On the bare floor, with heaven-direded eyes,, 
 ** The haplefs Youth in fpeechlefs horror lies ! 240 
 
 ** The poi&'nous vial, by diftra<^ion drain'd, 
 '' Rolls from his hand, in wild, contortion ftrain'd:. 
 *' Pale with life-wafting pangs, it's dire effed, 
 / And ftung to madnefs by the world's negled, 
 *' He, in abhorrence of the dangerous Art,. 245-:, 
 
 ^* Once the dear idol of his glowing heart,. 
 '' Tears from his Harp the vain detefted wires, 
 ** Aad in the frenzy of Defpair expires ! 
 
 * "- Pernicious
 
 r 83 ] 
 
 *' Pernicious Poefy ! thy baleful fvvay 
 Exalts to weaken, flatters to betray; 250 
 
 When thy fond Votary has to thee reflgn'd 
 The captive powers of his deluded mind, 
 Fantaftic hopes his fwelling breafl inflame, 
 Tempeftous pafllons tear his fhatter'd frame, 
 Which flnks ; for round it feas of trouble roar, 255 
 Admitting agony at every pore ; 
 While DuUnefs, whom no tender feelings check. 
 Grins at his ruin, and enjoys the wreck ; 
 Seen thro' the mift which clouds her heavy eyes. 
 The faults of Genius fwell to double fize, 260 
 
 His generous faults, which her bafe pride makes known, 
 Infulting errors fo unlike her own. 
 " Far then, my Son, far from this Syren fleer; 
 Or, if her dulcet fong mufl: charm thy ear. 
 Let Reafon bind thee, like the Greek of yore, • ^6^ 
 To catch her mufic, but efcape her fliore ; 
 For never fhall the wretch her power can feize, ■ • '* 
 Regain the port of Fortune, or of Eafe." ' 
 
 Parental Fear thus warns the filial heart, . 
 
 From this alluring, this infidious Art ; • . . 2y<5f 
 
 M 2 But,
 
 [ 8+ ]; 
 
 But, wounded thus by keen Invedive's edge, 
 
 Sayf, can the Mufe no juft defence alledge ? 
 
 In ftriking contraft has fhe not to paint 
 
 Her profp'rous Hero, as her murder'd Saint ? 
 
 'Tis true, {he oft has fruitlefs vigils kept, 275* 
 
 And oft, with unavailing forrow, wept 
 
 Her injux'd VotVies, doom'd to quit the earth 
 
 In the fharp pangs of ill-requited worth. 
 
 Ye noble Martyrs of poetic name,, 
 
 *' Blifs to your Spirits, to your Mem'ries Fame !" 2 8q> 
 
 By gen'rous Honor be your toils rever'd, 
 
 To grateful Nature be your names endear'd ! 
 
 To all who Pity's feeling nerve poffefs,, 
 
 Doubly endear'd by undeferv'd diftrefs-. 
 
 But, to relieve the pain your wrongs awake, 285; 
 
 O let the Mufe her brighter records take,. 
 Review the crown by living Merit won,. 
 And Ihare the triumph of each happier Son* 
 
 If the young Bard who ftarts for Glory's goal^ 
 Can fate with prefent fame his ardent foul, 29a 
 
 Poetic ftory can with truth atteft 
 This rareft, richeft prize in life pofleft- 
 
 See
 
 t 8s ] 
 
 See the gay Poet of Italia's fhore, 
 
 Whom with fond zeal her feeling fons adore, 
 
 Pa&3 while his heart with exultation beats, 295 
 
 Poetic Mantua's applauding ftreets ! 
 
 See him, while Juftice fmiles, and Envy fnarls, 
 
 Receive the Laurel from Imperial Charles ! * 
 
 And lo, th' unfading Gift ftill fhines above 
 
 Each perifhable mark of Royal Love. 300 
 
 If humbler views the tuneful mind infiiame, 
 If to be rich can be a Poet's aim. 
 The Mufe may fliew, but in a different clime, 
 Wealth, the fair produce of applauded Rhyme. 
 Behold the fav'rite Bard of lib'ral Spain, 305 
 
 Her wond'rous Vega, of exhauftlefs vein ; 
 From honeft Poverty, his early lot. 
 With honor fuUied by no vicious blot, 
 Behold him rife on Fortune's glittering wings. 
 And almoft reach the opulence of Kings ; 310 
 
 The high-foul'd Nobles of his native land. 
 Enrich their Poet with fo frank a hand! 
 
 J Ver. 29S. See NOTE III. 
 
 9- For
 
 [ 86 3 
 
 For him Pieria's rock with treafure teems, 
 
 For him her fountains gufli with golden ftreams ; * 
 
 And ne'er did Fortune, with a love more juft, 315 
 
 Her fplendid ftores to worthier hands entruft ; 
 
 For with the pureft current, wide and ftrong, 
 
 His Charity furpaft his copious Song. 
 
 If the Enthufi-aft higher hope purfues. 
 If from his commerce with th' infpiring Mufe 320 
 
 He feeks to gain, by no mean aims confin'd. 
 Freedom of thought and energy of mind j 
 To raife his fpirit, with aetherial fire. 
 Above each little want and low defire ; 
 O turn where Milton flames with Epic rage, 325 
 
 Unhurt by poverty, unchilFd by age : 
 Tho' danger threaten his declining day, 
 Tho' clouds of darknefs quench his vifual ray, 
 The heavenly Mufe his hallow'd fpirit fills 
 With raptures that furmount his matchlefs ills ; 330 
 
 From earth (he bears him to bright Fancy's goal, 
 And diftant fame illuminates his foul! 
 
 Too oft the wealthy, to proud follies born. 
 Have turn'd from lettered Poverty with fcorn. 
 * Ver. 314. See NOTE IV. 
 
 Dull
 
 [ 8? J 
 
 Dull Opulence ! thy narrow joys enlarge ; 335 
 
 To fliield weak Merit is thy nobleft charge : 
 
 Search the dark fcenes where drooping Genius lies, 
 
 And keep from forrieft fights a nation's eyes, 
 
 That, from expiring Want's reproaches free. 
 
 Our generous country may ne'er weep to fee 340 
 
 A future Chatterton by poifon dead, 
 
 An Otway fainting for a little bread. 
 
 If deaths like thefe deform'd our native ifle. 
 Some Englifh Bards have bafk'd in Fortune's fmlle. 
 Alike in Station and in Genius bleft, 34.5 
 
 By Knowledge prais'd, by Dignity careft. 
 Pope's happy Freedom, all bafe wants above, 
 Flow'd from the golden ftream of Public Love ; 
 That richcft antidote the Bard can feize. 
 To fave his fpirit from its worft difeafe, 350 
 
 From mean Dependance, bright Ambition's bane. 
 Which bluiliing Fancy drives to hide in vain. 
 To Pope the titled Patron joy'd to bend, 
 Still more ennobled when proclaim'd his friend ; 
 For him the hands of jarring Fadion join 355 
 
 To keep their tribute on his Homer's flirine.. 
 
 Proud
 
 C 88 ] 
 
 Proud of the frank reward his talents find. 
 
 And nobly confcious of no venal mind, 
 
 With the juft world his fair account he clears, 
 
 And owns no debt to Princes or to Peers. 3^0 
 
 Yet, while our nation feels new thirft arife 
 For that pure joy which Poefy fupplies, 
 Bards, whom the tempting Mufe enlifts by ftealth, 
 Perceive their path is not the road to wealth, 
 To honorable wealth, young Labor's fpoil, 365 
 
 The due reward of no inglorious toil ; 
 Whofe vvelUearn'd comforts nobleft minds engage, 
 The juft afylum of declining age; 
 Elfe had we feen a warm Poetic Youth 
 Chano-e Fidion's rofes for the thorns of Truth, 370 
 
 From Fancy's realm, his native field, withdraw. 
 To pay hard homage to feverer Law. 
 
 O thou bright Spirit, whom the Afian Mufe 
 Had fondly fteep'd in all her fragrant dews. 
 And o'er whofe early Song, that mental feaft, 375 
 
 She breathM the fwcetnefs of the rifled Eaft ; 
 Since independant Flonor's high controul 
 Detach'd from Poefy thy ardent foul. 
 
 To
 
 [ ?9 ] 
 
 To feek with better hopes Perfuafion's feat, 
 
 Bleft be thofe hopes, and happy that retreat ! 380 
 
 Which with regret all Britifli Bards muft fee, 
 
 And mourn a Brother lofl: in lofmg thee. 
 
 Nor leads the Poet's path to that throng'd gate 
 Where crouching Priefts on proud Preferment wait ; 
 Where, Vvhile in vain a thoufmd vot'ries fawn, 385 
 
 She robes her fav'rite few in hallow'd Lawn : 
 Elfe, liberal Mason, had thy fpotlefs name, 
 The Ward of Virtue as the Heir of Fame, 
 In lifts of mitred Lords been ftill unread, 
 While Mitres drop on many a Critic's head ? 390 
 
 Peace to all fuch, whofe decent brows may bear 
 Thofe facred honors plac'd by Learning there ; 
 May juft refped from brutal infult guard 
 Their Crown, unenvied by the genuine Bard ! 
 Let Poefy, embellifh'd by thy care, 39 - 
 
 Pathetic Mason ! with juft pride declare, 
 Thy breaft muft feel a more exulting fire. 
 Than Pomp can give, or Dignity infpire, 
 When Nature tells thee that thy Verfe imparts 
 The thrill of pleafure to ten thoufand hearts ; 400 
 
 N And
 
 [ 90 ] 
 
 And often has flie heard ingenuous Youth, 
 Accomplifli'd Beauty, and unbiafs'd Truth, 
 Thofe faithful harbingers of future fame, 
 With tender intereft pronounce thy name 
 With lively gratitude for joy refin'd, 4^5 
 
 Gift of thy Genius to the feeling mind. 
 Thefe are the honors which the Mufe confers, 
 The radiant Crown of living light is her's ; 
 And on thy brow fhe gave thofe gems to blaze, 
 That far outfhine the Mitre's tranfient rays; 410:. 
 
 Gems that fliall mock malignant Envy's breath, 
 And fhine ftill brighter thro' the fhades of death. 
 For me, who feel, whene'er I touch the lyre,. 
 My talents link below my proud defire ; 
 Who often doubt, and fometimes credit give,, 4^5' 
 
 When Friends aflure me that my Verfe will live; 
 Whom health too tender for the buftling throng 
 Led into peniive fhade and foothing fong ; 
 Whatever fortune my unpolifli'd rhymes 
 May meet, in prefent or in future times, 420 
 
 Let the bkft Art my grateful thoughts employ, 
 Which fooths my forrow and augments my joy ; 
 
 3 Whence
 
 C 91 ] 
 
 Whence lonely Peace and focial Pleafure fprings, 
 
 And Friendfliip, dearer than the fmile of Kings ! 
 
 While keener Poets, queruloufly proud, 425 
 
 Lament the Ills of Poefy aloud, 
 
 And magnify, with Irritation's zeal, 
 
 Thofe common evils we too ftrongly feel, 
 
 The envious Comment and the fubtle Style 
 
 Of fpecious Slander, ftabbing with a fmile ; 4 jo 
 
 Frankly I wifh to make her Bleflings known, 
 
 And think thofe Bleflings for her Ills atone : 
 
 Nor wou'd my honefl: pride that praife forego. 
 
 Which makes Malignity yet more my foe. 
 
 If heart-felt pain e'er led me to accufe 435 
 
 The dangerous gift of the alluring Mufe, 
 'Twas in the moment when my Verfe impreft 
 Some anxious feelings on a Mother's breaft. 
 
 O thou fond Spirit, who with pride haft fmil'd, 
 And frown'd with fear, on thy poetic child, 440 
 
 Pleas'd, yet alarm'd, when in his boylfh time ^ 
 He figh'd in numbers, or he laugh'd in rhyme ; 
 While thy kind cautions warn'd him to beware 
 Of Penury, the Bard's perpetual fnare ; 
 
 "N 2 Marking
 
 [ 92 ] 
 
 Marking the cr.ily temper of his foul, 44.5 
 
 Carelefs of wealth, nor fit for bafe controul : 
 
 Thou tender Saint, to whom he owes much more 
 
 Than ever Child to Parent ow'd before, 
 
 In life's firft feafon, when the fever's flame 
 
 Shrunk to deformity his fhrivell'd frame, 450 
 
 And turn'd each fairer image in his brain 
 
 To blank confufion and her crazy train, 
 
 'Twas thine, with conftant love, thro' ling'ring years, 
 
 To bathe thy Idiot Orphan in thy tears ; 
 
 Day after day, and night fucceeding night, 455 
 
 To turn incefiant to the hideous fight. 
 
 And frequent watch, if haply at thy view 
 
 Departed Reafon might not dawn anew. 
 
 Tho' medicinal art, with pitying care, T 
 
 Cou'd lend no aid to favc thee from defpair, 460 >■ 
 
 Thy fond maternal heart adher'd to Hope and Prayer : J 
 
 Npr pray'd in vain ; thy child from Povv'rs above 
 
 Receiv'd the fcnfe to feel and blefs thy love ; 
 
 O might he thence receive the happy fkill. 
 
 And force proportion'd to his ardent will, 465 
 
 With Truth's unfading radiance to emblaze 
 
 Thy virtues, worthy of immortal praife ! 
 
 Nature.
 
 [ 93 ] 
 
 Nature, who deck'd thy form with Beauty's flowers, 
 Exhaufted on thy foul her finer powers ; 
 Taught it with all her energy to feel 470 
 
 Love's melting foftnefs, Friendfhip's fervid zeal, 
 The generous purpofe, and the adive thought. 
 With Charity's difFufive fpirit fraught ; 
 There all the beft of mental gifts (lie plac'd, 
 Vigor of Judgment, purity of Tafte, 475 
 
 Superior parts, without their fpleenful leaven, 
 Kindnefs to Earth, and confidence in Heaven. 
 
 While my fond thoughts o'er all thy merits roll, 
 Thy praife thus gufhes from my filial foul ; 
 Nor v/ill the Public with harfh rigor blame 480 
 
 This my juft homage to thy honor'd name ; 
 To pleafe that Public, if to pleafe be mine, 
 Thy Virtues train'd me — let the praife be thine. 
 
 Since thou haft reach'd that world where Love alone, 
 
 Where Love Parental can exceed thy own ; 485 
 
 If in celeftial realms the bleft may know 
 
 And aid the objeds of their care below. 
 
 While in this fublunary fcene of ftrife 
 
 Thy Son poffefles frail and feverifli life, 
 
 10 If
 
 [ 94 ] 
 
 If Heaven allot him many an added hour, 490 
 
 Gild it with virtuous thought and mental power, 
 Power to exalt, with every aim refin'd. 
 The lovelieft of the Arts that blefs mankind! 
 
 END OF THE FOURTH EPISTLE. 
 
 EPISTLE
 
 EPISTLE 
 
 THE FIFTH.
 
 ARGUM ENT 
 
 OF THE FIFTH EFUSTLE. 
 
 Examination of the received opinioit^ that fiipernatural 
 Ageitcy is ejfential to the Epic Poem, — 'The folly and 
 injuflice of all arbitrary fyftems in Poetry,^— The Epic 
 province ?tot yet exhatifled,^-—SubjeBs from Engliflo 
 Hiflory the mofl inter ejling, — A 7iational Epic Poem 
 the great defderatum i?i Englijh literature, — The 
 Author s wifh of feeing it fupplied by the genius of 
 Mr. Mason.
 
 C 97 ] 
 
 EPISTLE V. 
 
 TLL-FATED Poefy ! as human worth, 
 
 ^ Prais'd, yet unaided, often finks to earth j 
 
 So fink thy powers ; not doom'd alone to know 
 
 Scorn, or neglect, from an unfeeling Foe, 
 
 But deftin'd more opprefiive wrong to feel _5 
 
 From the mifguided Friend's perplexing zeal. 
 
 Such Friends are thofe, who in their proud difplay 
 
 Of thy young beauty, and thy early fway. 
 
 Pretend thou'rt robb'd of all thy warmth fublime, 
 
 By the benumbing touch of modern Time. lO 
 
 What ! is the Epic Mufe, that lofty Fair, 
 Who makes the difcipline of Earth her care ! 
 That mighty Minifter, whom Virtue leads 
 To train the nobleft minds to noblefl: deeds ! 
 Is fhe, in office great, in glory rich, 15 
 
 Degraded to a poor, pretended Witch, 
 
 O Who
 
 [ 98} 
 
 Who rais'd her fpells, and all her raagic power, 
 
 But on the folly of the favoring hour ? 
 
 Whofe dark, defpis'd illufions melt awajr 
 
 At the clear dawn of Philofophic day ? 20 
 
 To fuch they fink her, who lament her fall 
 
 From the high Synod of th' Olympian Hall ; 
 
 Who v/or{hip Syftem, hid in Fancy's veil, 
 
 And think that all her Epic force muft fail. 
 
 If fhe no more can borrow or create 25 
 
 Celeftial Ag-ents to uohold her ftate. 
 
 To prove if this fam'd doctrine may be found 
 
 To reft on folid, or on fandy ground, 
 
 Let Critic Reafon all her light diffufe 
 
 O'er the wide empire of this injur'd Mufe, 30 
 
 To guide our fearch to every varied fource 
 
 And feparate finevv of her vital force. — 
 
 To three prime powers within the human frame^ 
 
 With equal energy fhe points her aim : 
 
 By pure exalted Sentiment flie draws . 35- 
 
 From Judgment's ftcady voice no light applaufe ; 
 
 By Nature's fimple and pathetic ftrains, 
 
 The willing homage of the Heart fhe gains; 
 
 The
 
 [ 99 J 
 
 The precious tribute flie receives from thele^ 
 
 Shines undebas d by changing Time's decrees^i 40 
 
 The noble thought, that fir'd a Grecian foul, 
 
 Keeps o'er a Britifli mind its firm controul ; 
 
 The fcenes, where Nature feems herfelf to fpeak^ 
 
 Still touch a Briton, as they touched a Greek i 
 
 To captivate admiring Fancy's eyes, 4,5 
 
 She bids celeftial decorations rile ; 
 
 But, as a playful and capricious child 
 
 Frowns at the fplendid toy on which it fmil'd i 
 
 So wayward Fancy now with fcorn furveys 
 
 Thofe fpecious Miracles fhe lov'd to praife ; 50 
 
 Still fond of change, and fickle Fafhion's dupe, 
 
 Now keen to foar, and eager now to floop, 
 
 Her Gods, Dev'ls, Saints, Magicians, rife and fall. 
 
 And now fhe worfliips each, nov/ laughs at all. 
 
 If then within the rich and wide domain c q 
 
 O'er which the Epic Mufe delights to reign, 
 One province weaker than the reft be found, 
 'Tis her Celeftial Sphere,, or Fairy Ground : 
 Her realm of Marvels is the diftant land, 
 O'er which flie holds a perilous command ^ 60 
 
 ^02 For,
 
 [ loo ] 
 
 For, plac'd beyond the reach of Nature's ald^ 
 
 Here her worft foes her tottering force invade :. 
 
 O'er the wide preeind: proud Opinion towers, 
 
 And withers with a look its alter'd powers ; 
 
 While lavifh Ridicule, pert Child of Tafte ! 65 
 
 Turns the rich confine to fo poor a wafte. 
 
 That fome, who deem it but a cumbrous weight, 
 
 Would lop this Province from its Parent State. 
 
 What mighty voice firft fpoke this wond'rous law, 
 Which ductile Critics ftill repeat with awe — 70 
 
 That man's unkindling fpirit muft refufe 
 A generous plaudit to th' Heroic Mufe, 
 How^e'er fhe paint her fcenes of manly life,. 
 If no fuperior Agents aid the ftrife ? 
 
 In days of courtly wit, and wanton mirth, 75; 
 
 The loofe Petronius gave the maxim birth ^ * 
 Perchance, to footh the envious Nero's ear, 
 And fink the Bard whofe fame he figh'd to hear ;. 
 To injure LucAN, whofe advent'rous mind, 
 Inflam'd by Freedom, wdth juft fcorn refiga'd 80 
 
 * Ver. ^(>. See N O T E I. 
 
 X T.V
 
 [ ^ox ] 
 
 Th' exhaufted fables of the ftarry pole, 
 
 And found a nobler theme in Cato's foul : 
 
 To wound him, in the mafk of Critic art. 
 
 The fubtle Courtier launch'd this venom'd dart, 
 
 And following Critics, fond of Claffic lore, 85 
 
 Still echo the vain law from fhore to fhore ; 
 
 On Poets ftill for Deities they call. 
 
 And deem mere earthly Bards no Bards at all. 
 
 Yet, if by fits the mighty Homer nods. 
 
 Where finks he more than with his fleepy Gods ?* 90 
 
 E'en LucAN proves, by his immortal name. 
 
 How weak the dagger levell'd at his fame ; 
 
 For in his Song, which Time will ne'er forget,, 
 
 If Tafte, w^ho much may praife, will much regret, 
 
 'Tis not the abfence of th' Olympian ftate, 95 
 
 Embroil'd by jarring Gods in coarfe debate : 
 
 'Tis nice arrangement, Nature's eafy air. 
 
 In fcenes unfolded with fuperior care i 
 
 'Tis fofter didion, elegantly terfe, 
 
 And the fine polifli of Virgilian Verfe. ico 
 
 O blind to Nature ! who aflcrt the Mufe 
 
 Muft o'er the human frame her empire lofc, 
 
 Failing
 
 no 
 
 [ ^ 102 ] 
 
 Failing to fly, in Fancy's wild career. 
 Above this vifible diurnal fphere ! 
 
 Behold yon penlive Fair ! who turns with grief 105 
 The tender NoveFs foul-poffefTing leaf! 
 Why with moift eyes to thofe foft pages glu d, 
 Forgetting her fix'd hours of fleep and food y 
 • Why does fhe keenly grafp its precious woes, 
 Nor quit the volume till the ftory clofe? 
 'Tis not that Fancy plays her revels there, 
 Cheating the mind with lucid forms of air s 
 'Tis not that Paffion, in a ftyle impure, 
 Holds the warm fpirit by a wanton lure : 
 'Tis fuffering Virtue's fympathetic fway, i^S 
 
 That all the fibres of her breaft obey ; 
 'Tis Adion, where Immortals claim no part ; 
 'Tis Nature, grappled to the human heart. 
 
 If this firm Sov'reign of the feeling breaft 
 Can thus the fafcinated thought arreft, 1 20 
 
 And thro' the bofom's deep receffes pierce, 
 Uno-rac'd, unaided by enchanting Verfe, 
 Say 1 fliall we think, with limited controul, 
 
 She wants fuflicient force to fcize the foul, 
 
 When
 
 C *<>3 ] 
 
 When Harmony's congenial tones convey 125 
 
 Charms to her voice, that aid its magic fvvay ? 
 
 If Admiration's hand, with eager grafp. 
 
 Her darling Homer's deathlefs volume clafp. 
 
 Say to what fcenes her partial eyes revert ! 
 
 Say what they firfl: explore, and lafl: defert ! 130 
 
 The fcenes that glitter with no heavenly blaze. 
 
 Where human agents human feelings raife, 
 
 While Truth, enamor'd of the lovely line, 
 
 Cries to their parent Nature, '* Thefe are thine." 
 
 When Neptune rifes in. Homeric ftate, 135 
 
 And on their Lord the Powers of Ocean wait ; 
 
 Tho' pliant Fancy trace the fteps he trod. 
 
 And with a traniicnt woriliip own the God, 
 
 Yet colder readers with indifference view. 
 
 The Sovereign of the deep, and all his valTal crew, 140 
 
 Nor feel his watery pomp their mind enlarge. 
 
 More than the pageant of my Lord May'r's barge. 
 
 But when Achilles' wronp-s our eyes eno^are, 
 
 All bofoms burn with fympathetic rage ; 
 
 And when thy love parental, Chief of Troy ! 145 
 
 Haftes to relieve the terrors of thy boy. 
 
 Our
 
 C 104 ] 
 
 Our fenfes in thy fond emotion join, 
 And every heart's in unifon with thine. 
 
 Still in the Mufe's ear fhall Echo ring, 
 That heavenly Agents are her vital fpring ? 150 
 
 Thofe who conclude her winning charms arife 
 From Beings darting from the diftant ikies, 
 Appear to cherifh a conceit as vain, 
 As once was harbour'd in Neanthus' brain, 
 When he believ'd that harmony muft dwell 155 
 
 In the cold concave of the Orphic fhell : 
 The ancient Lyre, to which the Thracian fung, 
 Whofe hallowM chords were in a temple hung. 
 The (hallow Youth with weak ambition fought. 
 And of the pilfering Prieft the relique bought; 160 
 
 Viewinnr his treafure with deluded gaze. 
 He deem'd himfelf the heir of Orphic praife ; 
 But when his awkward fingers tried to bring 
 Expected mufic from the filent ftring, 
 Not e'en the milder brutes his difcord bore, 165 
 
 But howling dogs the fancied Orpheus tore. * 
 
 * Ver, 166. See NOTE II. 
 
 When
 
 C ^^5 3 
 
 When the true Poet, in vvhofe frame are join'd 
 Softnefs of Heart and Energy of Mind, 
 His Epic fcene's expanfive limit drawsj 
 Faithful to Nature's univerfal laws; 170 
 
 If thro' her various walks he boldly rano-e, 
 Marking how oft her pliant features change ; 
 If, as fhe teaches, his quick powers fupply 
 Succellive pictures to th' aftonifh'd eye, 
 Where nobleft pafiions noblefl: deeds infpire, 175 
 
 And radiant fouls exhibit all their fire ; 
 Where fofter forms their fweet attractions blend, 
 And fuffering Beauty makes the world her friend ; 
 If thus he build his Rhyme, with varied art. 
 On each dear intereft of the human heart, 180 
 
 His genius, by no vain conceits betray'd, 
 May fpurn faint Allegory's feeble aid. 
 
 Th' Heroic Mufe, in earthly virtue ftrong, 
 May drive the hoft of Angels from her Song, 
 As her fair Sifter Mufe, the Tragic Queen, 185 
 
 Flas banifli'd Ghofts from her pathetic fcene, 
 Tho' her high foul, by Shakespeare's magic fway'd, 
 Still bends to buried Denmark's aweful Shade. 
 
 P If
 
 [ io6 ] 
 
 If we efteem this Epic Queen fo great, 
 
 To fpare her heavenly train, yet keep her ftate, 19a 
 
 'Tis not our aim, with fyftematic pride, 
 
 To fink their glory, or their powers to hide, 
 
 Who add, when folded in the Mufe's arms, 
 
 Celeftial beauty to her earthly charms. 
 
 Sublimely fafhion'd, by no mortal hands, 195 
 
 The dome of mental Pleafure wide expands : 
 
 Formed to prefide o'er its allotted parts, 
 
 At different portals fiand the feparate Arts ; 
 
 But every portal diiierent paths may gain, 
 
 Alike uniting in the myftic Fane. 200 
 
 Contentious mortals on thefe paths debate ; 
 Some, wrangling on the road, ne'er reach the gate, 
 While others, arm'd with a defpotic rod, 
 Allow no pafs but what themfelves have trod. 
 The nobleft fpirits, to this foible prone, 205 
 
 Have flander'd powers congenial with their own : 
 Hence, on a Brother's genius Milton frown'd. 
 Scorning the graceful chains of final found, 
 And to one form confin'd the free fublime, 
 Infulting Dryden as the Man of Rhyme. 210 
 
 Caprice
 
 [ ^^7 ] 
 Caprice ftill gives this lafling ftruggle life ; 
 Rhyme and Blank Verfe maintain their idle ftrife : 
 The friends of one are ftill the other's foes, 
 For ftubborn Prejudice no mercy knows. 
 As in Religion, Zealots, blindly warm, 21.5 
 
 Negled the EflencCj while they grafp the Form j 
 Poetic Bigots, thus perverfely wrong, 
 Think Modes of Verfe comprize the Soul of Song, 
 
 If the fine Statuary fill his part 
 With all the powers of energetic Art ; 220 
 
 If to the figures, that, with fkill exadl. 
 His genius blends in one impaflion'd ad:. 
 If to this Group fuch fpeaking force he give. 
 That ftartled Nature almoft cries '^ They live;" 
 All tongues with zeal th' enchanting work applaud, 225 
 Nor the great Artift of due praife defraud, 
 Whether he form'd the rich expreflive mafs 
 Of Parian marble, or Corinthian brafs ; 
 For each his powers might fafhion to fulfil 
 The nobleft purpofe of mimetic fkill ; 230 
 
 Each from his foul might catch Promethean fire, 
 And fpeak his talents, till the world expire. 
 
 P 2 'Tis
 
 [ 108 ] 
 
 'Tis thus that Milton's Verfe, and Dryden's Rhyme, 
 Are proof alike againft the rage of Time ; 
 Each Mafter modelTd, with a touch fo bold, 235 
 
 The rude materials which he chofe to mould, 
 That each his portion to perfedion brought, 
 Accomplifhing the glorious end he fought. 
 
 Falfe to themfelv^es, and to their intereft blind. 
 Are thofe cold judges, of faftidious mind, 240 
 
 Who with vain rules the fuffering Arts would load, 
 Who, ere they fmile, confult the Critic's code ; 
 Where, puzzled by the different doubts they fee, 
 (For who fo oft as Critics difagree ?) 
 
 They lofe that pleafure by free fpirits feiz'd, 245 
 
 In vainly fettling how they fhould be pleas'd. 
 
 Far v/ifer thofe, who, with a generous joy. 
 Nor blindly fond, nor petulantly coy. 
 Follow each movement of the varying Mufe, 
 Whatever ftep her airy form may chufe, 250' 
 
 Nor to one march her rapid feet confine, 
 While eafe and fpirit in her gefture join ; 
 Thofe v/ho facilitate her free defire. 
 To melt the heart, or fet the foul on fire ; 
 
 Who,
 
 [ 1^9 ] 
 
 Who, if her voice to fimple Nature lean, 255 
 
 And fill with Human forms her Epic fcene ; 
 
 Pleas'd with her aim, affift her moral plan, 
 
 And feel with manly fympathy for Man : 
 
 Or if fhe draw, by Fancy's magic tones, 
 
 ^therial Spirits from their fapphire thrones, 260 
 
 Her Heavenly fhapes with willing homage greet. 
 
 And aid, with dudlile thought, her bright deceit ; 
 
 For, if the Epic Mufe ftill wi£h to tower 
 
 Above plain Nature's firm and graceful power, 
 
 Tho' Critics think her vital powers are loft 265 
 
 In cold Philofophy's petrific froft ; 
 
 That Magic cannot her funk charms reftore, 
 
 That Heaven and Hell can yield her nothing more j 
 
 Yet may fhe dive to many a fecret fource 
 
 And copious fpring of vifionary force :. 270 
 
 India yet holds a Mythologic mine, 
 
 Eler ftrength may open, and her art refine : 
 
 Tho' Afian fpoils the realms of Europe fill^ 
 
 Thofc Eaftern riches are unrifled ftill ; 
 
 Genius may there his courfe of honor run^ 275 
 
 And fpotlefs Laurels in that field be won. * 
 
 * Ver. 276. See NOTE IIL 
 
 Yet
 
 [ iio 3 
 
 Yet nobler aims the Bards of Britain court, 
 Who fteer by Freedom's ftar to Glory's port ; 
 Our gen'rous lile, with far fuperior claim, 
 Afks for her Chiefs the palm of Epic fame. 280 
 
 In every realm where'er th' Heroic Mufe 
 Has deign'd her glowing fpirit to infufe, 
 Her tuneful Sons with civic fplendor blaze, 
 The honoured Heralds of their country's praife, 
 Save in our land, the nation of the earth 285 
 
 Ordain'd to give the brighteft Heroes birth ! — 
 By fome ftrange fate, which rul'd each Poet's tongue. 
 Her deareft Worthies yet remain unfung. 
 
 Critics there are, who, with a fcornful fmile, 
 Rejea the annals of our martial Ifle, 290 
 
 And, dead to patriot Paflion, coldly deem 
 They yield for lofty Song no touching theme. 
 
 What ! can the Britifh heart, humanely brave, 
 Feci for the Greek who loft his female Have ? 
 Can it, devoted to a favage Chief, 295 
 
 Swell with his rage, and foften with his grief? 
 And fhall it not with keener zeal embrace 
 Their brighter caufe, who, born of Britifh race, 
 
 5 With
 
 C III ] 
 
 With the ftrong cement of the blood they fpilt, 
 
 The fplendid fane of Britifh Freedom built ? 300 
 
 Bleft Spirits, who, with kindred fire endued. 
 
 Thro' different ages this bright work purfued, 
 
 May Art and Genius crown your fainted band 
 
 With that poetic wreath your Deeds demand ! 
 
 While, led by Fancy thro' her wide domain, 305 
 
 Our fteps advance around her Epic plain ; 
 While we furvey each laurel that it bore, 
 And every confine of the realm explore, 
 See Liberty, array'd in light ferene, 
 
 Pours her rich luftre o'er th' expanding fcene ! 310 
 
 Thee, Mason, thee fhe views with fond regard. 
 And calls to nobler heights her fav'rite Bard. 
 Tracing a circle with her blazing fpear, 
 " Here," cries the Goddefs, '' raife thy fabric here, 
 Build on thefe rocks, that to my reign belong, 315 
 
 The nobleft bafis of Heroic Sono; ! 
 Fix here ! and, while thy growing works afcend, 
 My voice fhall guide thee, and my arm defend." 
 As thus fhe fpeaks, methinks her high beheft 
 Imparts pure rapture to thy confcious breail:, 320 
 
 Pure
 
 [ »^2 J 
 
 Pure as the joy immortal Newton found, 
 
 When Nature led him to her utmofl bound. 
 
 And clearly fhew'd, where unborn ages lie, 
 
 The diftant Comet to his daring eye ; 
 
 Pure as the joy the Sire of mortals knew, 325 
 
 When blifsful Eden open'd on his view, 
 
 When firfl: he liften'd to the voice Divine, 
 
 And wond'ring heard, '^ This Paradife is thine/* 
 
 With fuch delight may 'ft thou her gift receive ! 
 
 May thy warm heart with bright ambition heav^e 330 
 
 To raife a Temple to her hallow'd name. 
 
 Above what Grecian artifts knew to frame ! 
 
 Of Englifli form the facred fabric rear. 
 
 And bid our Country with juft rites revere 
 
 The Power, who fheds, in her benignant fmile, 23 S 
 
 The brighteft Glory on our boafted Ifle ! 
 
 Juftly on thee th' infpiring Goddefs calls ; 
 Her mighty tafk each weaker Bard appalls : 
 'Tis thine, O Mason ! with unbaffled fkill, 
 Each harder duty of our Art to fill ; 340 
 
 'Tis thine, in robes of beauty to array, 
 And in bright Order's lucid blaze difplay, 
 
 The
 
 [ "3 '] 
 
 The forms that Fancy, to thy wifhes kind, 
 
 Stamps on the tablet of thy clearer mind. 
 
 How foftly fweet thy notes of pathos fwell, 345 
 
 The tender accents of Elfrida tell ; 
 
 Cara6lacus proclaims, with Freedom's fire. 
 
 How rich the tone of thy fublimer Lyre ; 
 
 E'en in this hour, propitious to thy fame, 
 
 The rural Deities repeat thy name : 350 
 
 With feftive joy I hear the fylvan throng 
 
 Hail the completion of their favorite Song, 
 
 Thy graceful Song ! in honor of whofe power, 
 
 Delighted Flora, in her fweeteft bower, 
 
 Weaves thy unfading wreath ; — with fondeft care, 355 
 
 Proudly fhe weaves it, emuloufly fair. 
 
 To match that crown, which in the Mantuan grove 
 
 The richer Ceres for her Virgil wove ! 
 
 See ! his Euridice herfelf once more 
 
 Revifits earth from the Elyfian fliore ! 360 
 
 Behold ! {he hovers o'er thy echoing glade ! 
 
 Envy, not love, conducts the penfive Shade, 
 
 Who, trembling at thy Lyre's pathetic tone, 
 
 Fears left Nerina's fame furpafs her ov/n. 
 
 Q^ Thou
 
 [ 114 ] 
 
 Thou happy Bard ! whofe fweet and potent voic'fe 565; 
 Can reach a!l notes within the Poet's choice j 
 Whofe vivid foul has led thee to infafe 
 Dramatic life in the preceptive Mufe ; 
 Since, blefl: alike with Beauty and with Force, 
 Thou rivairft Virgil in his Sylvan courfe, 370 
 
 O be it thine the higher palm to gain^ 
 And pafb him in the wide Heroic plain F 
 To fmg, with equal nre, of nobler themes,. 
 To gild Hiftoric Truth with Fancy's beams ! 
 To Patriot Chiefs unfung thy Lyre devote, 375 
 
 And fvvell to Liberty the lofty note !: 
 
 V/ith humbler aim, but no ungenerous view,. 
 My fleps, lefs firm, their lower path purfue ; 
 Of different Arts I fearch the ample field, 
 Mark its paft fruits, and what it yet may yield ; ^8a 
 
 With wiHing voice the praife of Merit found,. 
 And bow to Genius wherefoever found ;. 
 O'er my free Verfe bid n.oblefl names prefide,. 
 Tho' Party's hoftUe lines thofe names divide ^. 
 Party ! whofe murdering fpirit I abhor,, jS^: 
 
 More fubtly cruel, and lefs brave tha.n War.. 
 
 2L ' Party K
 
 [ ^^5 ] 
 Party ! infidious Fiend ! whofe vapors blind 
 The light of Juftice in the brighteft mind ; 
 Whofe feverifh tongue, whence deadly venom flows, 
 Bafely belies the merit of her foes ! jgo 
 
 O that my Verfe with magic power were bleft. 
 To drive from Learning's field this baleful pert ! 
 Fond, fruitlefs wifli ! the mighty taflc would foil 
 The firmeft fons of Literary Toil ; 
 
 In vain a letter'd Hercules might rife 393 
 
 To cleanfe the ftable where this Monfter lies : 
 Yet, if the Imps of her malignant brood, 
 With all their Parent's acrid gall endu'd ; 
 If Spleen pours forth, to Mockery's apifli tune. 
 Her gibing Ballad, and her bafe Lampoon, 400 
 
 On faireft names, from every blemifh free. 
 Save what the jaundic'd eyes of Party fee ; 
 My glowing fcorn will execrate the rhyme, 
 Tho' laughing Humor ftrike its tuneful chime ; 
 Tho' keeneft Wit the glitt'ring lines inveft 405 
 
 With all the fplendor of the Adder's creft. 
 
 Sublimer Mason ! not to thee belong 
 The reptile beauties of envenom'd Song, 
 
 0.2 
 
 Thou
 
 E 11^ I 
 
 Thou chief of living Bards ! O be it ours, 
 
 111 fame tho' different, as of different powers^ 4i<5 
 
 Party's dark clouds alike to rife above,- 
 
 Aad reach the firmament of Public Love I 
 
 May'ft thou afcend Parnaffus' higheft mound, 
 
 In triumph there the Epic Trumpet found ; 
 
 While, with no envious zeal, I thus afpire. 415. 
 
 By juft applaufe to fan thy purer fire ;. 
 
 And of the Work which Freedom pants to fecj 
 
 Which thy firm Genius claims referv'd for thee,. 
 
 In this frank ftyle my honeft thoughts impart, 
 
 If not an Artift yet a friend to Art*. 42^0 
 
 NOTES.
 
 NOTES.
 
 r 1^9 3 
 
 N O T E 
 
 TO THE 
 
 F I R S T EPISTLE. 
 
 NOTE I. Ver. 7. 
 
 OUC H dark decrees have letter d Bigots penn'd, 
 
 Tet feiz'd that honor d name^ the Poefs Fn'end.] Of the feveral 
 authors who have written on Epic Poetry, many of the mofl celebrated 
 are more likely to confound and deprefs, than to enlighten and exalt 
 the young Poetical Student; The Poetics of Scaliger, which are little 
 more than a laboured panegyric of Virgil, would lead him to regard the 
 ^neid as the only ftandard of perfedlion ; and the more elegant and ac- 
 compliilied Vida inculcates the fame pufiUanimous leflbn, though in 
 fpirited and harmonious verfe. - 
 
 Unus hie ingenio prseftanti gentis Achlv^e 
 Divinos vates longe fuperavit, et arte, . 
 Aureus immortale fonans. ftupet ipfa pavetque, 
 Quamvis ingentem miretur Grascia Homerum. 
 
 Ergo ipfurn ante alios animo venerare Maronem, - 
 Atque unum fequere, utque potes, veiligia ferva ! 
 
 Vida, 
 See how the Grecian Bards, at diftance thrown. 
 With reverence bow to this diftmguifh'd fon ; 
 Immortal founds his golden lines impart, 
 And nought can match his Genius but his Art 5 
 
 5 E'en
 
 120 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 E'en Greece turns pale and trembles at his fame. 
 Which fhades the luftre of her Homer's name. 
 
 Hence, facred Virgil from thy foul adore 
 Above the reft, and to thy utmofl power 
 Purfue the glorious paths he ftruck before. 
 
 Pitt's Tranflation. 
 
 ! 
 
 A Critic, who lately rofe to great eminence in our own country, has 
 endeavoured by a more fingular method to damp the ardour of inven- 
 tive Genius, and to annihilate the hopes of all who would afpire to 
 the praife of originality in this higher fpecies of poetical compofition. 
 He has attempted to eftablifli a Triumvirate in the Epic world, with a 
 perpetuity of dominion. Every reader who is converfant with modern 
 criticifm will perceive that I allude to the following palTage in the fa- 
 mous Dillertation on th-e fixth Book of Virgil : — ** Jufl as Virgil ri- 
 valled Homer, fo Milton emulated both of them. He found Ho- 
 jner poflefled of the province of Morality ; Virgil of Politics ; and 
 nothing left for him but .that of Religion. This he feized, as afpiring to 
 fliare with them in the government of the Poetic world : and, by means 
 of the fuperior dignity of his fubjed:, hath gotten to the head of that 
 Triumvirate, which took fo many ages in forming. Thefe are the 
 three fpecies of the Epic Poem ; for its largeft fphere is human aBwn, 
 which xan be confidered but in a moral, political, or religious view : 
 and Thefe the three Makej-s y for eachof their Poems was ftruck out at a 
 heat, and came to perfection from its firil: eflay. Here then tlie grand 
 fcene was clofed, and ull farther improvements of the Epic at an end." 
 
 I apprehend that few critical remarks contain more abfurdity (to ufe 
 the/avourite exprelTion of the author I have quoted) than the preceding 
 lines. Surely Milton is himfelf a proof that human adlion is not the 
 largell fphere of the Epic Poem ; and as to Virgil, his moft paffionate 
 admirers muft allow, that in fubjed: and defign he is much lefs of an 
 original than Camoens or Lucan. But fuch a critical flatute of limita- 
 tion, if I may call it fo, is not lefs pernicious than abfurd. To dif- 
 figure the fphere of Imagination^ with thefe capricious and arbitrary 
 ..zones is an injury io fcience. Such Criticifm, ijiilead of giving fpirit 
 
 7 and
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 121 
 
 and energy to the laudable ambition of a youthful Poet, can only lead 
 him to Hart like Macbeth at unreal mockery, and to exclaim, when he 
 is invited by Genius to the banquet, ** The Table's full." 
 
 NOTE II. Ver. ^j. 
 
 Thus, at their banquets, fabling Greeks rehear fe 
 
 The fancied origin of f acred Verfe.'\ For this fable, fuch as it is, I 
 am indebted to a palTage in Athenasus, which the curious reader may 
 find in the clofe of that fanciful and entertaining compiler, page 701 of 
 Cafaubon's edition. 
 
 NOTE III. Ver. 207. 
 
 Why did the 'Epic Mufs filent lyre 
 
 Shrink from thofc feats that fummon d all her fire f] I have ventured to 
 fuppofe that Greece produced no worthy fucceffor of Homer, and that 
 her exploits againft the Perlians were not celebrated by any Poet in a 
 manner fuitable to fo fublime a fubjed: j — yet an author named Chaerilus 
 is faid to have recorded thofe triumphs of his country in verfe, and to 
 have pleafed the Athenians fo highly as to obtain from them a public 
 and pecuniary reward. He is fuppofed to have been a cotemporary of 
 the hiftorian Herodotus. But from the general filence of the more 
 early Greek writers concerning the merit of this Poet, we may, I think, 
 very fairly conje6lure that his compofitions were not many degrees fu- 
 perior to thofe of his unfortunate namefake, who frequented the court of 
 Alexander the Great, and is fiid to have fung the exploits of his Sove- 
 reign, on the curious conditions of receiving a piece of gold for every 
 good verfe, and a box on the ear for every bad one. The old Scholiaft 
 on Horace, who has preferved this idle flory, concludes it by faying, that 
 the miferable Bard was beat to death in confequence of his contra(!l. 
 Some eminent modern Critics have indeed attempted to vindicate the 
 reputation of the more early Cha3rilus, who is fuppofed to be confounded, 
 both by Horace himfelf, and afterwards by Scaliger, with the Chasrilus 
 rewarded by Alexander. Voffius *, in particular, appears a warm advo- 
 cate in his behalf, and appeals to various fragments of the ancient Bard 
 
 * De Hiftoricis Grsecis. 
 
 J^ preferved
 
 ia2 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 preferved by Arlilotle, Strabo, and others, and to the teftimony of Plu- 
 tarch in his favour. But on confulting the fragments he has referred 
 to, they rather fortify than remove my conjedure. The fcrap preferved 
 by Ariflotle in his Rhetoric is only half a verfe, and quoted without any 
 commendation of its author. The two citations in Strabo amount to 
 little mor£. The curious reader may alfo find in Athenaeus an Epitaph 
 on Sardanapalus, attributed to this Poet; who is mentioned by the fame 
 
 author as peculiarly addided to the groller exxeffes of the table. Let us 
 
 now return to that Chserilus whom Horace has *' damn'd to everlafting 
 fame." The judicious and elegant Roman SatirilT: feems remarkably un- 
 juil, in paying a compliment to the poetical judgment of his patron Au- 
 guflus, at the expence of the Macedonian hero. Alexander appears to 
 have pofTefTed much more poetical fpirit, and a higher relifli for poetry, 
 than the cold-blooded Odavius. It is peculiarly unfair, to urge his li- 
 berality to a poor Poet as a proof that he wanted critical difcernment, 
 when he had himfelf fo thoroughly vindicated the delicacy of his tafte, by 
 the enthufiaftic Bon-mot, that he had rather be the Therfites of Homer 
 than the Achilles of Chasrilus. 
 
 NOTE IV. Verse 231. 
 
 When grave Bojfu hy Syjiem s Jiudied laws 
 
 ne Grecian Bard's ideal piSiure draws.] Though Boffu is called '* the 
 beft explainer of Ariftotle, and one of the mofl learned and judicious 
 of modern critics," by a writer for whofe opinions I have much 
 elleem, I cannot help thinking that his celebrated ElTay on Epic Poetry 
 is very ill calculated either to guide or to infpirit a young Poet. The 
 abfurdity of his advice concerning the mode of forming the fable, by 
 chufing a moral, inventing the incidents, and then fearching hiftory for 
 names to fuit them, has been fufficiently expofcd : and as to his leading 
 idea, concerning the defign of Homer in the compofition of the Iliad and 
 Odyfley, I apprehend moft poetical readers mufl feel that he is pro- 
 bably miftaken ; for it is a conjectural point, and placed beyond the pof- 
 fibility of decifion. Perhaps few individuals differ more from each 
 other in their modes of thinking, by the force of education and of na- 
 tional manners, than a modern French Critic and an early Poet of 
 Greece ; yet the former will often pretend, with the moft decifive air, 
 
 to
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 123 
 
 to lay open the fenforium of an ancient Bard, and to count every link m 
 the chain of his ideas. Thofe who are moil acquainted with the move- 
 ments of imagination, will acknowledge the fleps of this airy power to 
 be fo light and evanefcent in their nature, that perhaps a Poet himfelf, 
 in a few years after finifliing his work, might be utterly unable to recoi- 
 led: the exad: train of thought, or the various minute occurrences which 
 led him to the general defign, or direded him in the particular parts of 
 his poem. But, in fpite of the interval of many hundred centuries, the 
 dccifive magic of criticifm can call up all the Ihadows of departed 
 thought that ever exifted in his brain, and difplay, with a moft aflo- 
 nifliing clearnefs, the precife flate of his mind in the moment of com- 
 pofition. 
 
 *' Homere," iays Bofiu, " * voyoit les Grecs pour qui il ecri- 
 voit, divifez en autant d'etats qu'ils avoient de villes conliderables : 
 chacune faifoit un corps a part & avoit fa forme de gouvernement inde- 
 pendamment de toutes les autres. Et toute-fois ces etats differens etoient 
 fouvent obllgez de fe reiinir comme en un feul corps contre leurs enne- 
 mis communs. Voila fans doute deux fortes de gouvernemens bien dif- 
 ferens, pour etre commodement reunis en un corps de morale, & en un 
 feul poeme. 
 
 " Le poete en a done fait deux fables feparces. L'une eft pour toute la 
 Grece reiinie en un feul corps, mais compofee de parties independantes les: 
 unes des autres, comme elles etoient en eifet ; & I'autre eft pour chaque 
 etat particulier, tels qu'ils etoient pendant la paix, funs ce premier rap-, 
 port & fans la neceffite de fe reiinir. 
 
 '* Homere a done pris pour le fond de fa fable, cette grande verite, que 
 la Mefmtelligence des princes ruine leurs propres etats." 
 
 On the Odyfley BofTu remarks, ** Que la verite qui fert de fond a 
 cette fldtion, & qui avec elle compofe la fable, ell:, que I'abfence d'une 
 perfonne hors de chez foi, ou qui n'a point I'a^il a ce qui s'y fait, y 
 caufe de grands defordres -f." 
 
 On the mature confideration of thcfe two moral axioms, the Critic 
 fuppofes the fublime Bard to have begun his refpedive Poems ; for 
 Homer, continues he, ** ^ n'avoit point d'autre deffein que de former 
 
 * Livre i. chap. 8. t Livre i. chap. lO. % Livrei. chap. 13. 
 
 R 2 agreablement
 
 124 NOTES TO THE 
 
 agreablement les mceurs de fes Citoiens, en leur propofant, comme dit 
 Horace, ce qui eft utile ou pernicieux, ce qui eft honnete ou ce qui ne 
 
 I'eil pas : il n'a cntrepris de raconter aucune adlion particuliere 
 
 d'Achille ou d'UlyfTe. 11 a fait la fable et le deiTein de fes poeines, fans 
 penfer a ces princes ; & enfuite il leur a fait Thonneur de donner leurs 
 noms aux herosqu'il avoit feints." 
 
 The preceding remarks of this celebrated Critic have been frequently 
 admired as an ingenious conje^flure, which moft happily illuftrates the 
 real purpofe of Homer. To me they appear fo much the reverfe, that 
 if I ventured to adopt any decided opinion on a point fo much darkened 
 by the clouds of antiquity, I fliould rather incline to the idea which 
 Boflu affecfts to explode, and fuppofe the Poems of Homer intended 
 panegyrics on the very princes whom the Critic affirms he never 
 thought of while he was deiigning the works which have made them 
 immortal. 
 
 There is a ftriking paftage on this fubjed; in a dialogue of Plato,, 
 which I iliall enlarge upon, for two reafons : ift. As it proves that 
 the latter perfuafion concerning the purpofe of Homer was enter- 
 tained at Athens -, and 2dly, Becaufe it gives me a pleafmg oppor- 
 tunity of fupporting the learned Madame Dacier againft an ill-grounded 
 cenfure of a late Englifh critic. In her Preface to the OdylTey, (he 
 afferts that the judgment of antiquity decided in favor of the Iliad ; and 
 fhe appeals to part of the fentence in Plato to which I have alluded, as a 
 proof of her ailertion. Mr. Wood, in a note to the Introduction of his 
 Eflay on Homer, endeavours to fhew the infufficiency of this proof; 
 and ftill farther, to convince us that Madame Dacier was utterly mif- 
 taken in her fenfe of the pafTage to which (he appealed. If he ventures 
 to contradidl this learned lady, he does not however infult her with 
 that infolent pertnefs with which fhe is frequently treated in the notes 
 to Pope's Homer ; and which, for the honour of our Englifh Poet, I 
 will not fuppofe to be his. But though Mr. Wood endeavours to fup- 
 port his opinion by argument, I apprehend that he is himfelf miftaken, 
 and that Madame Dacier is perfectly right in underftanding the words 
 of Socrates in their literal fenfe, without the leaft mixture of irony. It 
 is true, indeed, that the aim of Socrates, in the courfe of the dialogue, is 
 to ridicule the prefumption and ignorance of the fophift Hippias, in the 
 
 mofl
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 125 
 
 mofl ironical manner ; but the particular fpeech on which Madame 
 Dacier founds her opinion, is a plain and fimple addrefs to Eudicus, be- 
 fore he enters on his debate with the Sophift. It turns on the m.oft 
 fimple circumilance, the truth of which Eudicus could hardly be ig- 
 norant of, namely, the fentiments of his own father concerning the 
 Poems of Momer. As thefe fentiments are fuch as I believe moft ad- 
 mirers of the ancient Bard have entertained on the point in quelHon, I 
 perfectly agree with Madame Dacier in thinking that Socrates means to 
 be literal and ferious, when he fays to Eudicus, Ta g-s TjcTpoc A7rvjfj.ciVTov 
 
 l/inaOV oil >) iKlCLi MCiKKlOV £IVI TrOiVifXCC W 0(X\^rM V\ Vi OIv(S(IEICL ' T0(7QVTX h Mff.K- 
 "hlOV 0(T'^ Cf.fJ.eiV(;CV A^iXMVi O^Offfl-fCOC €tVl. EKCiTEpoy yap TWV TrOlVliXi/.TX'J 70 (J.EV e.Q 
 
 OhdGBCi e(^v[ 7rs7roivi(jQoLi, to 5' sn Axi>^},sci. Plat. Hip. min. edit. Serrani, 
 tom. i. pag. 363. ** I have heard your father Apemantus fay, that the 
 Iliad of Homer was a finer poem than his Odyffey, and as far furpafied 
 it in excellence as the virtue of Achilles furpafi^ed the virtue of Uiyfies ; 
 for thofe two poems, he faid, were purpofely compofed in honour of 
 thofe two heroes : the Odyfiey, to fhew the virtues of Uiyfies ; the 
 Iliad, thofe of Achilles." Plato's LefiTer Hippias, tranfiated by Syden- 
 ham, page 13. 
 
 Let us now return to Bofi"u ; whofe opinion concerning the purpofe 
 of Homer we may venture to oppofe, fupported as it is by an ino-enious 
 interpretation of fome ambiguous paffages in the Poetics of Arifi:otle ; 
 and this oppofition may be grounded, not fo much on the fentence which 
 I have quoted from Plato, as on the probable condud of Epic compo- 
 fition in the early ages of poetry. In fuch periods as produced the 
 talents of Virgil and of Dryden, when all the arts of refined flattery 
 were perfectly underfi:ood, we can eafily conceive that they might both 
 be tempted to compliment the reigning monarch under the mafk of fuch 
 heroic names as hifi:ory could fupply, and tlieir genius accommodate to 
 their purpofe. We find accordingly, that the Roman Bard is fuppofed 
 to have drawn a flattering portrait of his Emperor in the charad;er of 
 j^neas, and that the Englilh Poet has, with equal ingenuity, enwrapt 
 the difiblute Charles the Second in the Jewifh robes of King David. 
 But in fo rude an age as we muft admit that of Plomer to have been -, 
 when the Poet was certainly more the child of Nature than of Art ^ when 
 he had no hiftory to confult, perhaps no patron to flatter, and no critics^
 
 126 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 to elude or obey ; in llich an age, may we not more naturally conjcdure, 
 that poetical compofition was neither laboured in its form, nor deep in 
 its defign ? that, inflead of being the flow and fyftematic produd of po- 
 litical reafoninp;, it was the quick and artlefs offspring of a flrong and 
 vivifying fancy, which, brooding over the tales of tradition, foon raif^rd 
 them into fuch life and beauty, as muft fatisfy and enchant a warlike 
 and popular audience, ever ready to liften with delight to the heroic 
 feats of their anceflors. 
 
 If the learned Bolfu appears unfortunate in his fyflcm concerning the 
 purpofe of Homer, he may be thought ftill more fo in his attempt to 
 analyze the Divinities of Virgil ; for, to throw new light on the conven- 
 tion of the Gods, in the opening of the tenth JEneidy he very ferioufly 
 informs us, that *' - Venus is divine mercy, or the love of God towards 
 virtuous men ; and Juno his juftice." 
 
 I cannot conclude thefe very free llridtures on a celebrated author, 
 without" bearing a pleafmg teftimony to the virtues of the man. — Boflu 
 is allowed by the biographers of his country to have been remarkable 
 for the mildeil manners and moffc amiable difpofition ; totally free from 
 that imperious and bigotted attachment to fpeculative opinions, which 
 the fcience he cultiv^ated is fo apt to produce. He endeared himfelf to 
 Boileau by a generous ad: of friendlhip, that led to an intimacy between 
 them, which was diffolved only by the death of the former, in 1680. 
 
 NOTE V. Verse 244. 
 
 Imputes to Virgil his own dark conceit. '\ As it requires much leifure 
 to examine, and more iTcill to unravel an intricate hypothecs, twilled 
 into a long and laboured chain of quotation and argument, the DilTerta- 
 tion on the fixth Book of Virgil remained for fome time unrefuted. 
 The public very quietly acquiefced in the flrange polition of its author, 
 ** That i^neas's adventure to the infernal fhades, is no other than a 
 figurative defcription of his initiation into the Myfleries ; and particu- 
 larly a very exadt one of the fpedacles of the Eleufmian." At length a 
 fuperior but anonymous Critic arofe, who, in one of the moil judicious 
 
 * Bookv. chap, i. 
 
 C and
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 127 
 
 and fpirited efTays that our nation has produced on a point of claflical 
 literature, completely overturned this ill-founded edifice, and expofed 
 the arrogance and futility of its affuming architedt. The Eflay I allude 
 to is entitled '* Critical Obfervations on the Sixth Book of theiEneid;" 
 printed for Elmfly, 1770 : and as this little publication is, I believe, no 
 longer to ie purchafed, the curious reader may thank me for tranfcribing 
 a few of its moft ilriking palfages. 
 
 Having ridiculed, with great fpirit and propriety, Warburton's gene- 
 ral idea of the ^neid as a political inilitute, and his ill-fupported afier- 
 tion, that both the ancient and modern poets afforded Virgil a pattern 
 for introducing the Myfteries into this famous epifode, the author pro- 
 ceeds to examine how far the Critic's hypothefis of initiation may be 
 fupported or overthrown by the text of the Poet. *^ It is," fays he, 
 ** from extrinfical circumflances that we may expedt the difcovery of 
 Virgil's allegory. Every one of thefe circumfcances perfuades me, that 
 Virgil defcribed a real, not a mimic world, and that the fcene lay in the 
 Infernal Shades, and not in the Temple of Ceres. 
 
 '* The lingularity of the Cumasan fhpres mufl: be prefent to every tra-- 
 veller who has once feen them. To a fviperilitious mind, the thin crufl, 
 vafi: cavities, fulphurcous fleams, poifonous exhalations, and fiery tor- 
 rents, may feem to trace out the narrow confine of the two worlds. The 
 lake Avernus was the chief objeft of religious horror ; the black woods 
 which furrounded it, when Virgil firfl came to Naples, were perfe(5lly 
 fuited to feed the fuperflition of the people *. It was generally be- 
 lieved, that this deadly fiood was the entrance of Hell -f- ; and an oracle 
 was once eftabliflied on its banks, which pretended, by magic rites, to 
 call up the departed fpirits J. iEneas, who revolved a more daring en- 
 terprize, addrelTes himfeif to the pricflefs of thofe dark regions. Their 
 converfation may perhaps inform us whether an initiation, or a defcent 
 to the Shades, was the objeft of this enterprize. She endeavours to 
 deter the hero, by fetting before him all the dangers of his raih under- 
 taking. 
 
 * Strabo, 1. v. p. i68. + Sil. Ital. 1. xli, J Diod. Siculus, I. iv. 
 
 p. 267, edit. Weficiing. 
 
 «— - — Facilis
 
 128 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 . Facilis defcenfus Averni ; 
 Nodes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis : 
 Sed revocare gradum, fuperafque evadere ad auras. 
 Hoc opus, hie labor eft *. 
 
 " Thefe particulars are abfolutely irreconcileable with the idea of 
 initiation, but perfectly agreeable to that of a real defcent. That every 
 ftep and every inftant may lead us to the grave, is a melancholy truth. 
 The Myfteries were only open at ftated times, a few days at moft in the 
 courfe of a year. The mimic defcent of the Myfteries was laborious and 
 dangerous, the return to light eafy and certain. In real death this order 
 is inverted. 
 
 — ' Pauci quos aequus amavit 
 
 Jupiter, aut ardens evexit ad aethera virtus, 
 Diis geniti, potuere -f. 
 
 Thefe heroes, as we learn from the Speech of JEnc^s, were Her- 
 cules, Orpheus, Caftor and Pollux, Thefeus, and Pirithous. Of all 
 thefe antiquity believed, that, before their death, they had feen the 
 habitations of the dead ; nor indeed will any of the circumftances tally 
 \vith a fuppofed initiation. The adventure of Eurydice, the alternate 
 life of the Brothers, and the forcible intrulion of Alcides, Thefeus, 
 and Pirithous, would mock the endeavours of the moft fubtle critic, 
 who fhould try to melt them down into his favourite Myfteries. The 
 exploits of Hercules, who triumphed over the King of Terrors, 
 
 Tartareum ille manu cuftodem in vincla petivit 
 Ipfius a folio regis, traxitque trementem J. 
 
 was a wild imagination of the Greeks § ; but it was the duty of ancient 
 Poets to adopt and embellifli thefe popular traditions 3 and it is the 
 intereft of every man of tafte to acquiefce in their poetical JiSiions.'" 
 
 ** Virgil has borrowed, as ufual, from Homer his epifode of the 
 
 ♦ /Eneid vi. 126. f Ibid. vi. 129. % Ibid. vi. 395. 
 
 ^ Homer Odyfl'. 1. xi. ver. 623. Apoll. Bib. 1. ii, c. 5. 
 
 3 Infernal
 
 FIRST EPISTLE, 1^9 
 
 Infernal Shades, and, as ufual, has infinitely improved what the Grecian 
 had invented. If among a profufion of beauties I durft venture to 
 point out the mofl ftriking beauties of the lixth Book, I fhould per- 
 haps obferve, i . That after accompanying the hero through the filent 
 realms of Night and Chaos, we fee, with aftonifhment and pleafure, a 
 new creation burfling upon us, 2. That we examine, with a delight 
 which fprings from the love of virtue, the jufl empire of Minos, in 
 which the apparent irregularities of the prefent fyflem are corred:ed ; 
 where the patriot who died for his country is happy, and the tyrant 
 who opprefled it is miferable, 3. As we intsrefl ourfelves in the hero's 
 fortunes, we fhare his feelings : — the melancholy Palinurus, the wretched 
 Deiphobus, the indignant Dido, the Grecian kings, who tremble at his 
 prefence, and the venerable Anchifes, who embraces his pious fon, and 
 difplays to his fight the future glories of his race : all thefe objects af- 
 fect us with a variety of plealing fenfations. 
 
 ** Let us for a moment obey the mandate of our great Critic, and coh- 
 fider thefe aweful fcenes as a mimic (hew, exhibited in the Temple of 
 Ceres, by the contrivance of the prieft, or, if he pleafes, of the legilla- 
 tor. Whatever was animated (I apptal to every reader of tafte) what- 
 ever was terrible, or whatever was pathetic, evaporates into lifelefs 
 allegory. 
 
 Tenuem line viribus umbram. 
 
 '— — — Dat inania verba, 
 
 Dat line mente fonum, greilufque effingit euntis. 
 
 The end of philofophy is truth ; the end of poetry is pleafure. I 
 willingly adopt any interpretation which adds new beauties to the ori- 
 ginal ; I affill; in perfuading myfelf that it is juft, and could almofl 
 ihew the fame indulgence to the Critic's as to the Poet's iid;ion. But 
 ftiould a grave Dod:or lay out fourfcore pages in explaining away the 
 fenfe and fpirit of Virgil, I fhould have every inducement to believe 
 that Virgil's foul was very different from the Do(5tor's." 
 
 Having fliewn, in this fpirited manner, how far the hypotheiis of the 
 Critic is inconlifl:ent with particular paflages, and with the general 
 charader of the Poet, the EUayift proceeds to alledge '^ two fimple 
 
 S reafons.
 
 i30 NOTESTOTHE 
 
 reafons, which perfuade him that Virgil has not revealed the fecret 
 of the Eleufinian myfterles : the firft is bis ignorance,, and the fecond 
 his -difcretion,'" The author then proves, by, very ingenious hiftorieal 
 arguments, ill. That it is probable the Poet was never initiated him- 
 felf ; and, 2dly, That if he were fo, it is more probable that he 
 would not have violated the laws both of religion and of honour, in 
 betraying the fecret of the Myfteries ; particularly, as that fpecies of 
 profanation is mentioned with abhorrence by a cotemporary Poet. 
 
 .1^— .«-^— Vetabo, qui Cereris facrum 
 Vulgarit arcanae, fub iifdem. 
 
 Sit trabibus, fragileraque mecum 
 Sol vat phafelum, 
 
 HoR. 1. iii. od. 2.. 
 
 When Horace compofed the Ode which contains the preceding paflage,. 
 ** the iEneid (continues my author) and particularly the fixth Book, 
 were already known to the public *. The deteftation of the wretch, 
 who reveals the Myfteries of Ceres, though exprefled in. general terms, 
 muft be applied by all Rome to the author of the fixth Book of the 
 iEneid. Can we ferioufly fuppofe that Horace would have branded, 
 with fuch wanton infamy one of the men in the world, whom he loved 
 and honoured the moft '\ ? 
 
 ** Nothing remains to fay, except that Horace was himfelf ignorant 
 of his friend's allegorical meaning -, which the Biiliop of Gloucefter has 
 fmce revealed, to the world. It may be fo; yet, for my own part, I 
 fliould be very well fatisfied with underftanding Virgil no better than 
 Horace, did." 
 
 Such is the forcible reafoning of this ingenious and fpirited. 
 writer. I have been tempted to tranfcribe thele conliderable por- 
 tions of his Work, by an. idea (perhaps an ill-founded one) that the 
 circulation of his- little Pamphlet has not been equal to its merit. But- 
 if it has been in. any degree negle<^ed by our. country, it has not efcaped,, 
 
 * Donat. in Virgil. Propert. V, ii. eL xxv. v. 66; 
 ^,.Hftr, 1,1, od. 3, li i, ferm. v» yer. 39»^c. 
 
 tile
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 131 
 
 the refearches, or wanted the applaufe, of a learned and judicious fo- 
 reigner. ProfelTor Heyne, the late accurate and accomplifhed Editor of 
 Virgil, has mentioned it, in his Comments t© the fixth Book of the 
 iEneid, with the honour it deferves. He remarks, indeed, that the 
 Author has cenfured the learned Prelate with fome little acrimony; 
 ** Paullo acrius quam velis." But what lover of poetry, unbiaiTed by 
 perfonal connedtion, can fpeak of Warburton without fome marks of 
 indignation ? If I have alfo alluded to this famous Commentator with 
 a contemptuous afperity, it arifes from the perfuafion that he has fullied 
 the page of every Poet whom he pretended to illuflrate ; and that he 
 frequently degraded the ufeful and generous profeffion of Criticifm into 
 a mean inftrument of perfonal malignity : or (to ufe the more forcible 
 language of his greateift antagonift) that he " inverted himfelf in the high 
 office of Inquifitor General and Supreme Judge of the Opinions of the 
 Learned ; which he alfumed and exercifed with a ferocity and defpotifm 
 without example in the Republic of Letters, and hardly to be paralleled 
 among the difciples of Dominic *." It is the juil lot of tyrants to be 
 detefted ; and of all ufurpers, the literary defpot is the leafl excufable, 
 as he has not the common tyrannical plea of neceffity or intereft to 
 alledge in his behalf; for the prevalence oi his ediBs will be found to 
 fmk in proportion to the arbitrary tone with which they are pro- 
 nounced. The fate of Warburton is a flriking inftance of this impor- 
 tant truth. What havock has the courfe of very few years produced 
 in that pile of imperious criticifm which he had heaped together ! 
 Many of his notes on Shakefpeare have already refigned their place to 
 the fuperior comments of more accomplifl%ed Critics ; and perhaps the 
 day is not far diftant, when the volumes of Pope himfelf will ceafe to be 
 a repofitory for the lumber of his friend. The feverefl enemies of 
 Warburton muft indeed allow, that feveral of his remarks on his Poeti- 
 cal Patron are entitled to prefervation, by their ufe or beauty ; but the 
 greater part, I apprehend, are equally deRitute ot both : and liow far 
 the Critic was capable of difgracing the Poet, muft be evident to every 
 reader who recollects that the nonfenfe in the Eflay on Criticifm, where 
 
 * Letter to Warburton by a late Profeflbr, &c, page g, 2d edition, 
 
 S 2 Pegafus
 
 j^2 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 Pegafus is made to /natch a grace, which is juftly cenfured by Dr. War- 
 ton, was firft introduced into the poem by an arbitrary tranfpofition of 
 
 the editor. 
 
 Though arrogance is perhaps the mofl ftriking and charaderiftical 
 defeat in the eompofition of this alTuming Commentator, he had cer- 
 tainly other critical failings of confiderable importance; and it may 
 poflibly be rendering fome little fervice to the art which he profelFed, to 
 inveftigate the peculiarities in this fingular writer, which confpire to 
 plunge him in the crowd of thofe evanefcent critics (if I may ufe fuch an 
 expreffion) whom his friend Pope beheld in fo clear a vifion, that he 
 fepms to have given us a prophetical portrait of his own Commentator.. 
 
 Critics I faw, that others' names efface. 
 And fix their own, with labour, in the place y 
 Their own, like others', foon their place refign'dj.. 
 Or difappear'd, and left, the firft behind. 
 
 I fhall therefore hazard a few farther obfervations, not only on this- 
 famous Critic of our age and country, but on the two greater names of 
 antiquity, to each of whom, he has been declared fuperior by the partial, 
 voice of enthufiaflic friendfhip. I wifh not to offend his moft zealous, 
 adherents; and, though I cannot but conlider him as a literary ufurper, 
 I fpeak of him as a great Hiflorianfaid of more exalted tyrants, fme ira. 
 
 et jftudio, quorum caufas procul habeo.-' 'There feem to be three natural. 
 
 endowments requifite in the formation of an accomplifhed critic; — ftrong 
 underflanding, lively imagination, and refined fenfibility. The fijrft was • 
 the charaderillic of Ariftotle, and by the confent of all ages he is al- 
 lowed to have pofTefied it in- a fupcrlative degree. May I be pardoned, 
 for the opinion, that he enjoyed but a very moderate, portion of the other, 
 two? I would not abfolutely fay that he had neither Fancy nor Feeling;. 
 but that his imagination was not brilliant, and that his fenfibility was 
 not exquifite, may I think be fairly prefumed from the general tenor of 
 his profe; nor does the little relique of his poetry contradi<5l the idea. 
 The two qualities in which Ariilotle may be fuppofed defective, were 
 the very two which peculiarly diftinguifh Longinus ; who .certainly 
 W-anted not. underftanding, though he might not polTefs the philofophi- 
 
 cal ;
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 133 
 
 cal fagacity of the Stagyrlte. When confidered in every point of view, 
 he appears the moft confummate character among the Critics of anti- 
 quity. If Warburton vs^ore any refemblance to either of thefe mighty 
 names, I apprehend it muft be to the former, and perhaps in imagina- 
 tion he W2LS fuperior to Ariftotle -, but, of the three qualities which I 
 have ventured to confider as requifite in the perfedt Critic, I conceive 
 him to have been miferably deficient in the laft, and certainly the moft 
 elTential of the three ; for, as the great Commentator of Horace has phi- 
 Ibfophically and truly remarked, in a note to that Poet, *' Feeling, or 
 Sentiment, is not only the fureft, but the fole ultimate arbiter of works 
 of genius *." A man may pofTefs an acute underflanding and a lively 
 imagination, without being a found Critic j and this truth perhaps can- 
 not be more clearly fhewn than in the writings of Warburton. His 
 underflanding was undoubtedly acute, his imagination was lively ; but 
 Imagination and Sentiment are by no means fynonymous ; and he cer- 
 tainly wanted thofe finer feelings which conftitute accuracy of difcern- 
 ment, and a perfed: perception of literary excellence. In confequence 
 of this defed:, inftead of feizing the real fenfe and intended beauties of 
 an author, he frequently followed the caprices of his own adive fancy, 
 which led him in quell of fecret meanings and myfterious allufions ; 
 thefe he readily found, and his powers of underftanding enabled him to 
 drefs them up in a plaufible and fpecious form,, and to perfuade many 
 readers that he was (what he believed himfelf to be) the reflorer of ge- 
 nuine Criticifm. As a farther proof that he was deftitute of refined fen- 
 fibility, I might alledge the peculiarity of his didion, which, as Dr. 
 Johnfon has very juftly remarked, is coarfe and impure.. Perhaps it 
 may be found, that, in proportion as authors have enjoyed the quality 
 which I fuppofe him to have wanted, they have been more or lels dif- 
 tinguifihed by the eafe, the elegance, and the beauty of their language : 
 were Irequired to fortify this conjedture by examples, I fliould produce 
 the names of Virgil and Racine, of Fenelon and Addifon — that Addi- 
 fon, who, though infulted by the Commentator of Pope with the names 
 of an indifferent Poet and a worfe Critic, was, I think, as much fuperior 
 to his infulter in critical tafte, and in folidity of judgment, as he con- 
 
 * Notes on the EpiUle to AuguftuF, ycr^ 2ic, 
 
 feifedlv
 
 134 NOTES TO THE 
 
 rcHedly was in the harmony of his Ayle, and in all the finer graces of 
 beautiful compofition. 
 
 NOTE VI. Verse 257. 
 
 "Tisfaid by one, who, vjith this candid claims 
 
 Has gain d no fading ivreath of critic fame .^ Thefe, and the fix fubfe- 
 quent lines, allude to the following pafiage in Dr. Warton's Effay on 
 Pope. ** I conclude thefe refle(5tions with a remarkable fadt. In no poliilied 
 nation, after Criticifm has been much (ludied, and the rules of writ- 
 ing eftabliihed, has any very extraordinary work ever appeared. This has 
 vifibly been the cafe in Greece, in Rome, and in France, after Arill:otle, 
 Horace, and Boileau had written their Arts of Poetry. In our own 
 country, the rules of the Drama, for inilance, were never more com- 
 pletely underllood than at prefent ; yet what uninterelHng, though 
 faultlefs. Tragedies have we lately feen ? fo much better is our judgment 
 than our execution. How to account for the fad: here mentioned, ade- 
 quately and juftly, would be attended with all thofe difficulties that 
 await difcufilons relative to the productions of the human mind, and to 
 the delicate and fecret caufes that influence them ; whether or no the 
 natural powers be not confined and debilitated by that timidity and cau- 
 tion which is occafioned by a rigid regard to the dictates of art ; or whe- 
 ther that philofophical, that geometrical, and fyflematical fpirit fo much 
 in vogue, which has fpread itfelf from the fciences even into polite lite- 
 rature, by confulting only reafon, has not d;miniflied and deftroyedy^w- 
 timent, and made our poets write from and to the heady rather than the 
 heart ; or whether, laftly, when juft models, from which the rules have 
 necefifarily been drawn, have once appeared, fucceeding writers, by vainly 
 and ambitioufly ftriving to furpafs thofe juft models, and to fhine and 
 furprife, do not become ftitf and forced, and affedled in their thoughts 
 
 and didtion." Warton's Eflay, page 209, 3d edition. 1 admire this 
 
 ingenious and modeft reafoning ; but, for the honour of that feverer art, 
 which this pleafing writer has the happy talent to enliven and embellifh, 
 I will venture to ftart fome doubts concerning the fadt itfelf for which 
 he endeavours to account. Perhaps our acquaintance with thofe writ- 
 ings of Greece and Rome, which were fubfequent to Ariftotle and Ho- 
 race, is not fufficiently perfedt to decide the point either way in refpedl 
 
 I to
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 135 
 
 to thofe countries. But with regard to France, may we not aiTert, that 
 her poetical produdions, which arofe after the publication of Boileau's 
 Didacftic EfTay, are at leaft equal, if not fuperior, to thofe which pre- 
 ceded that period ? If the Henriade of Voltaire is not a fine Epic poem, 
 it is allowed to be the beft which the French have to boaft ; not to 
 mention the dramatic wOrks of that extraordinary and univerfal author. 
 If this remarkable fadl may indeed be found true, I fhould rather fuppofe 
 it to arife from the irritable nature of the poetic fpirit, fo peculiarly 
 averfe to reflraint and controul. The Bard who could gallop his Pegafus 
 over a free and open plain, might be eager to engage in fo pleafmg an 
 exercife; but he who obferved the direction -pofts fo thickly and fo per- 
 verfely planted, that, inflead of affiiling his career, they mull: probably 
 cccafion his fall, would eafily be tempted to defcend from his fteed, and 
 to decline the courfe. Let me illuftrate this conjecture by a ftriking 
 fad:, in the very words of the Poet jufl: mentioned, who was by no means 
 deficient in poetical confidence, and who has left us the following anec- 
 dote of himfelf, in that pleafing little anonymous work entitled, Com- 
 mentaire Hiflorique fur les Oeuvres de T Auteur de la Henriade. ** II 
 lut un jour plufieurs chants de ce poeme chez le jeune Prefident de 
 Maifons, fon intime ami. On I'impatienta par des objedions j il jetta 
 fon manufcrit dans le feu. Le Prefident Henaut Ten retira avec peine. 
 ** Souvenez vous (lui dit Mr. Henaut) dans une de fes lettres, que 
 c'eft moi qui ai fauve la Henriade, et qu'il m'en a coute une belle paire 
 de manchettes." 
 
 To return to theElfay on Pope. — I rejoice that the amiable Critic has 
 at length obliged the public with the conclufion of his moft engaging 
 and ingenious work: he. has the fingular talent to infirud and to pleafe 
 even thpfe readers who are mofi: ready to revolt from the opinion which 
 he endeavours to eftabliih ; and he has in fome degree atoned for that 
 excefs of feverity which his firfl volume difcovered,. and which funk the 
 reputation of Pope in the eyes of many,. who judge not for themfelves, 
 even far below that mortifying level to which he meant to reduce it. 
 Had Pope been alive, to add this fpirited effay to the bundle of writ- 
 ings againfl himfelf- which he is faid to have colleded, he mufi: have 
 felt, that, like the dagger of Brutus, it gave the moft painful blow, from 
 the charader of the aflaiknt : 
 
 '* All
 
 136 NOTES TO THE 
 
 ** All the confpirators, fave only he. 
 Did that they did in envy of great Cj^far ; 
 He, only, in a general honeft thought, ^ 
 And common good to all, made one of them.*' 
 
 Yet Pope afcended not the throne of Poetry by ufurpation, but was 
 feated there by a legal title ; of which I iliall fpeak farther in a fubfe- 
 quent note. 
 
 NOTE VII. Verse 359. 
 
 His hallow' d fubje 51 , by that Law forbid ^ 
 
 Might Ji ill have laid in Jilent darknefs hid.^ Boileau's Art of Poetry 
 made its firft appearance in 1673, fix years after the publication of Pa- 
 radife Loll. The verfes of the p'rench Poet to v/hich I have particularly 
 alluded are thefe 1 
 
 C'eft done bien vainement que nos auteurs decus, 
 Bannillant de leurs vers ces ornemens recus, 
 Penfent faire agir Dieu, fes faints, et fes prophetes, 
 Comme ces dieux eclos du cerveau des Poetes ; 
 Mettent a chaque pas le led;eur en enfer ; 
 N'ofFrent rien qu'Aftaroth, Belzebuth, Lucifer. 
 De la foi d'un Chretien les myfteres terribles 
 D' ornemens egayes, ne font point fufceptibles. 
 L'Evangile a I'efprit n' offre de tous cotes 
 Que penitence a faire, et tourmens merites : 
 Et de vos fidlions le melange coupable, 
 Meme a fes verites donne 1' air de la flible. 
 Et quel objet eniin a prefenter aux yeux 
 Que le Diable toujours hurlant centre les cieux. 
 Qui de votre heros veut rabaifler la gloire, 
 Et fouvent avec Dieu balance la vi^toire. 
 
 Poetique de Despreaux, chant iii. ver. 193, Sec. 
 
 The preceding lines, which are faid to have been levelled at the Clovis 
 of Defmaretz, appear fo pointed againil: the fubjed: of Milton, that we 
 might almoU believe them intended as a iatir^ on our divine Bard. 
 
 There 
 
 «
 
 FIRST EPISTLE. 137 
 
 There is nothing in Boileau's admirahle Didadtic Ellay fo liable to ob- 
 jedlion as the whole paffage concerning Epic poetry. His patronage o£ 
 the old Pagan divinities, and his oblique recommendation of Clallicai 
 heroes, are alike exceptionable. Even a higher name than Boileau has 
 failed in framing precepts fur the Epic Mule. The maxims delivered by 
 Tailb himfelf, in his Difcourfe on Epic poetry, are fo far from perfect, 
 that an agreeable and judicious French critic has very julHy faid of him, 
 *' S'il eCit mis fa theorie en pratique, fon pocme n'auroit pas tant de 
 charmes *." I am not fo vain as to think of fucceeding in the point 
 where thefe immortal authors have failed ; and I muft beg my reader to 
 remember, that the prefent work is by no means intended as a code of 
 laws for the Epic poet ; it is not my defign 
 
 To write receipts how poems may be made. 
 
 For I think the writer who would condefcend to frame this higher fpe- 
 cies of compofition according to the exad: letter of any diredlions what- 
 ever, may be moft properly referred to that admirable receipt for an Epic 
 poem with which Martinus Scriblerus will happily fupply him. My 
 ferious delire is to examine and refute the prejudices which have pro- 
 duced, as I apprehend, the negledl of the Heroic Mufe : I wifh to kindle 
 in our Poets a warmer fenfe of national honour, with ambition to excel 
 in the noblefl: province of poefy. If my ellay fliould excite that gene- 
 rous enthufiafm in the breaft of any young poetic genius, fo far from 
 wifhing to confine him by any arbitrary didlates of my own imagination, 
 I fhould rather fay to him, in the words of Dante's Virgil, 
 
 Non afpettar mio dir piu, ne mio cenno 
 Libero, dritto, fano e tuo arbitrio, 
 E fallo fora non fare a fuo fenno. 
 
 NOTE VIII. Verse 277- 
 
 Who fcorn d all litnits to his ivork ajjignd. 
 
 Save by tfj infpiring God ivho ruVd his mind.'\ ** On foot, with a lance 
 in his hand, the Emperor himfelf led the folemn proceflion, and direded 
 
 • Marmontel Poetiquc Fran^oife. 
 
 T the
 
 ,38 N O T E S, 6cc. 
 
 the line, which was traced as the boundary of the deftined capital ;. 
 till the growing circumference was obferved with aflonifhment by the 
 affiftants, who at length ventured to obferve, that he had already ex* 
 ceeded the moft ample meafure of a great city.. ** I fliall ftill advance," 
 replied Conflantine, *' till he, the invifible guide who marches be- 
 fore me, thinks proper to flop," 
 
 Gibbon, Vol. 11. page 11. 
 
 END OF THE NOTES TO THE FIRST EPI5.TLE^ 
 
 NOTES
 
 [ 139 ] 
 
 N O T E 
 
 T O T K E 
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 
 
 NOTE I. Verse 28. 
 
 Tf/'Efee thy fame traducd by Gallic wU.] Homer, like mofl tranfcen- 
 dent charadlers, has found detractors in every age. We learn from 
 a paffage in the life of Socrates by Diogenes Laertius, that the great 
 Poet had, in his life-time, an adverfary named Sagaris, or Syagrus ; and 
 his calumniator Zoilus is proverbially diflinguifhed. In the Greek An- 
 thologia, there is a fepulchral infcription on a flanderer of the fovereign 
 Bard, v^hich, for its enthufiaflic fingularity, I iliall prefent to the 
 reader. 
 
 E/ V.CH VTTO X^OVt KSlTdl, OlXC^i €Tl V.CLI KC/LTOL TTiadOLV 
 
 Ov'j£'/.ci Uiepi^sGUii^ 6vviiu(r£ {xvpict. Kstva 
 (t>XEYfi.ccTO(,, v.a.1 (xvaxpoiv ci7rKv(TiViV eh£y(jiv. 
 
 HXcidE KCril lJ.CLVlVfi ETTl ^Vl TOffOV, UST Ciyop6'J(TCil 
 
 Tayap V7ro^o(ptcii<Jiv Epiwvaiv afifxsffov vitttch 
 
 Anthologia, p. 70. Edit. Oxen. 1766. 
 T 2 On
 
 I40 NOTE STO THE 
 
 On I'arthenius the Phocenfian, v.ho calumniated Horner^ 
 
 Here, though deep buried he can rail no more,. 
 Pour burning pitch, on bafe Parthenius pour;. 
 Who on the facred Mufes dar'd to fpirt 
 His frothy venom and poetic dirt : 
 Who faid of Homer, in his frantic fcorn. 
 The Odyfley was mud, the Iliad thorn : 
 For this, dark Furies, in your fnakes enroll. 
 And through Cocytus drag the fland'rous foul. 
 
 Parthenius, fay the Commentators, was a difciple of Dionyfius of 
 Alexandria, who llourifhed under Nero and Trajan. Erycius, tlie author 
 of the infcription, is fuppofed to have lived in the iame age. Among 
 the modern adverfaries of Homer, the French are mofk remarkable for 
 their feverity and injuilice : nor is it furprifmg, that the nation which' 
 has difplayed the fainteft fparks of Epic fire, thould be the moil felici- 
 tous to reduce the oppreflive fplendor of this exalted luminary.. The 
 moft depreciating remarks on genius, in every walk, are generally made 
 by thofe who are the leafl able to prove its rivals ; and often, perhaps,, 
 not fo much from the prevalence of envious malignity, as from the 
 want of vivid and delicate perception. The merits and the failings of 
 Homer were agitated in France with all the heat and acrimony of a 
 theological difpute. Madame Dacier diftinguifhed herfelf in the contefl 
 by her uncommon talents and erudition : fhe combated for the Grecian 
 Bard with the fpirit of Minerva defending the Father of the Gods. It 
 muft however be confeil, that fhe fometimes overftepped the modeily of 
 wifdom, and caught, unwarily, the fcolding tone of Juno. It is indeed 
 amufmg, to obferve a people, who pique themfeives on their extreme po- 
 litenefs, and cenfure Homer for the grofs behaviour of his Gods, engag- 
 ing among themfelves in a fquabble concerning this very Poet, with all 
 the unrefined animofity of his Olympian Synod. In the whole contro- 
 verfy there is nothing more worthy of remembrance and of praife, than 
 the lively elegance and the pleafing good-humour of Mr. de la Motte, 
 who, though not one of the moil exalted, was certainly one of the moil 
 amiable, charaders in the literary world ; and made a generous return 
 to the feverity of his female antagoniil, by writing an ode in her praife. 
 
 Voltaire
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 141 
 
 Voltaire has pointed out, with his ufual fpirit, the failings of La Mottc In 
 his Abridgement of the Iliad ; but he has frequently fallen himfelf into 
 fimilar defeds, and is equally unjuft to Homer, againft whom he has 
 kvelled the moft bitter farcafms, both in profe and verfe. Voltaire at- 
 tacking Homer, is like Paris fhooting his arrow at the heel of Achilles : 
 the two Poets are as unequal as the two ancient Warriors ; yet Homer, 
 like Achilles, may have his vulnerable fpot ; but with this happy dif- 
 ference, that although the fhaft of ridicule, which is pointed againft 
 him, may be tinged with venom, its wound cannot be mortal. Perhaps 
 no better anfwer can be made to all thofe who amufe themfelves with 
 writing againft Homer, than the following reply of Madame Dacier to 
 the Abbe Terraflbn, who had attacked her favourite Bard in two abufive 
 volumes : — '' Que Monfieur 1' Abbe Terraflbn trouve Homere fot, ridi- 
 cule, extravagant, ennuyeux, c'eft fon affaire, le public jugera fi c'eft un 
 defaut a Homere de deplaire a M. I'Abbe Terraflbn, ou a M. TAtbi 
 TerralTon de ne pas gouter Homere." 
 
 NOTE II. Verse 85. 
 
 E'en Socrates himfelf, that pur eft Sage, 
 
 Imbib' d his Wifdom from thy ?mral pageJ] Dio Chryfoftom, in one of 
 his orations, has called Socrates the difciple of Homer, and drawn a Ihort 
 parallel of their refpedtive merits ; obferving in honour of both, ** 0,av;;ctf 
 
 Dion. Chrys. p. 559. 
 
 NOTE III. Verse 119. 
 How high foe cr fie leads his daring flight , &c.] I mean, not to injure 
 the dignity of Pindar by this affertion. Though Qu_ind:ilian, in drawing 
 the character of the Grecian Lyric Poets, has given him high pre-emi- 
 nence in that choir, we may, I think, very fairly conjed:ure that fomc 
 odes of Alcasus and Stefichorus were not inferior to thofe of the Theban 
 Bard, who is faid to have been repeatedly vanquifhed in a poetical conteft 
 by his female antagonifl Corinna. The abfu rd jealou fy of our fex con- 
 cerning literary talents, has led fome eminent writers to queliion the 
 merits of Corinna, as Olearius has obferved, in his Differtation on the fe- 
 male Poets of Greece. But her glory feems to have been fully eflablifhed
 
 142 NOTES TO THE 
 
 by the public memorial of her pidure, exhibited in her native city, and 
 adorned with a fymbol of her vi(5tory. Paufanias, who faw it, fuppofes 
 her to have been one of the handfomeft women of her time j and the 
 ingenuity of fome Critics imputes her fuccefs in the poetical contefl: to 
 the influence of her beauty. They have taken fome liberties lefs par- 
 donable with her literary reputation, and, by their curious comments 
 on a fingle Greek fyllable, made tlie fublime Pindar call his fair rival 
 a Sow, though the unfortunate word (TVvsKaT^ei, which may be twilled 
 into that meaning, lignifies, in its more obvious conftruction, that the 
 Poet challenged his fuccefsful antagonifl to a new trial of ikill. — For a 
 more minute account of this fmgular piece of criticifm, I muft refer the 
 reader to the notes on Corinna, in the Fragmenta Poetriarum, by 
 Wolfius. Time has left us only a few diminutive fcraps of Corinna's 
 Poetry ; but Plutarch, in his Treatife on the Glory of the Athenians, 
 has preferved one of her critical Bon-mots, which may deferve to be 
 repeated. That author aiferts, that Corinna intruded Pindar in his 
 youth, and advifed him to adorn his compolition with the embellifh- 
 ments of fable. The obedient Poet foon brought her fome verfes, in 
 which he had followed her advice rather too freely ; when his Tutrefs, 
 fmiling at his profufion, tm x^^P^ ^^^'"^ ^$*1 CTrsipsiv, cf.X},ci fxvi oAa tw 
 
 NOTE IV-. Verse 126. 
 
 Tt't may not yudgj/ieiit, with fe^vere difda'm. 
 
 Slight the young Rhodians variegated ftrai?i.'\ Apollonius, furnamed 
 the Rhodian from the place of his refidence, is fuppofed to have 
 been a native of Alexandria ; where he is faid to have recited fome por- 
 tion of his Poem, while he was yet a youth. Finding it ill received 
 by his countrymen, he retired to Rhodes, where he is conje(5tured to 
 have poliflied and completed his Work, fupporting himfelf by the 
 profeflion of Rhetoric, and receiving from the Rhodians the freedom of 
 their city. He at length returned, with confiderable honour, to the 
 place of his birth, fucceeding Eratofthenes in the care of the Alexan- 
 drian Library, in the reign of Ptolemy Euergetes, who afcended the 
 throne of Egypt in the year before Chrifl 246. That prince had been 
 7 educated
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 143 
 
 educated by the famous Ariftarchus, and rivalled the preceding fove- 
 reigns of his liberal family in the munijficent encouragement of 
 learning. Apollonius was a difciple of the poet Callimachus ; but their 
 conned;ion ended in the moil violent enmity, which was probably 
 owing to fome degree of contempt expreffed by Apollonius for the 
 light compofitions of his mafter. The learned have vainly endeavoured 
 to difcover the particulars of their quarrel. — The only Work of Apol- 
 lonius which has defcended to modern times, is his Poem, in four 
 Books, on the Argonautic expedition. Both Longinus and Quintilian 
 have affigned to this Work the mortifying charadler of Mediocrity ; but 
 there lies an appeal from the fentence of the moft candid and en- 
 lightened Critics to the voice of Nature ; and the merit of Apollonius 
 has little to apprehend from the decifion of this ultimate judge. His 
 Poem abounds in animated defcription, and in pallages of the moil: ten- 
 der and pathetic beauty. How finely painted is the firfc fetting forth 
 of the Argo ! and how beautifully is the wife of Chiron introduced, 
 holding up the little Achilles in her arms, and {hewing him to his 
 father Peleus as he failed along the fhore ! But the chief excellence in 
 our Poet, is the fpirit and delicacy with which he has delineated the 
 paffion of love in his Medea> That Virgil thought very highly of his 
 merit in this particular is fufficiently evident from the minute exadnefs 
 with which he has copied many tender touches of the Grecian Poet. 
 Thofe who compare the third Book of Apollonius with the fourth of 
 Virgil, may, I think, perceive not only that Dido has fome features of 
 Medea, but that the two Bards, however different in their reputation, 
 refembled each other in their genius 5 and that they both excel in deli- 
 cacy and pathos. 
 
 NOTE V. Verse 190. 
 
 Virgil Jinks loaded with their heavy praife,^ Scaliger appears to be the 
 moft extravagant of all the Critics who have lavilhed their undiftinguidi- 
 ing encomiums on Virgil, by afferting that he alone is entitled to the 
 name of Poet. Poetices, lib. iii. c. 2. — Though the opinion of 
 Spence, and other modern Critics, concerning the character of iEneas, 
 conlidered as an allegorical portrait of Auguftus, feems to gain ground, 
 yet it might perhaps be eafy to overturn the ingenious conjectures 
 
 and
 
 144 NOTES TO THE 
 
 and the fanciful reafoning by which that idea has been fupported. 
 I'his attempt would have the fan(ftion of one of the moil judicious 
 Commentators of Virgil ; for the learned Heyne exprefsly rejecSls all 
 allegorical interpretation, and thinks it improbable that a Poet of fo 
 correal a judgment could have adopted a plan which muft neceflarily 
 contra<*:l and cramp his powers. He even ventures to alTert, that if the 
 charad:er of ^Eneas was delineated as an allegorical portrait of Auguflus, 
 the execution of it is unhappy. The flrongeft argument which has 
 been adduced to fupport this conjedlure, is founded on the ingenious 
 interpretation of the following pafTage in the opening of the third 
 Georgic : 
 
 Primus ego in patriam mecum, modo vita fuperfit, 
 
 Aonio rediens deducam vertice Mufas : 
 
 Primus Idumasas referam tibi, Mantua, palmas ; 
 
 Et viridi in campo templum de marmore ponam 
 
 Propter aquam, tardis ingens ubi flexibus errat 
 
 Mincius, et tenera praetexit arundine ripas. 
 
 In medio mihi Ctefar erit, templumque tenebit, &c. 
 
 Thefe lines, in which Virgil expreil'es liis intention of dedicating a 
 temple to Auguftus, have been confidered as the Jioblejl allegory of ancient 
 Poetry * ; and the great Critic who iirft ftarted the idea, has expatiated, 
 ■ill the triumph of his difcovery, on the myjierious beauties they contain : 
 •but the whole of this hypotheiis is unfortunately built upon the rejec- 
 tion of three verfes, which are pronounced unworthy of the Poet, and 
 which, though found in every MS. the Critic claims a right of re- 
 moving. A licence fo extraordinary cannot even be juflified by the 
 talents of this accompliilied writer i for if the lefs elegant paflages of 
 the ancient Poets might be removed at pleafure, their compolitions 
 would be expofed to the caprice of every fantaftic commentator. The 
 obvious and literal interpretation not only renders this violence unne- 
 xelfary, but is more agreeable to the judgment of the Poet and the man - 
 
 * Kurd's Horace, vol. il. page 44. 
 
 ners
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 145 
 
 nefs of his age. The cuftom of ereding real temples was fo familiar to 
 antiquity, that a Roman would never have fufpe(fted the edifice was 
 to be raifed only with poetical materials. We may even conjecture, 
 from a line of Statius, that the Poet himfelf had a temple eredied 
 to his memory ; and, without any breach of probability, we may admit 
 his intention of giving his living Emperor fuch a teflimony of his gra- 
 titude. This adulation, though ihocking to us, was too generally 
 juflified by example to oblige the Poet to palliate it by a fidion. He 
 had before acquiefced in the divinity of his Imperial Patron, and had 
 cxpreiTed the idea in its full fenfe, 
 
 Namque erit ille mihi femper DeuSy illius aram 
 SxpG tener noftris ab ovilibus imbuetagnus. 
 
 Eclog. I. 
 
 Ingredere et votis jam nu?ic ailuefce vocari. 
 
 Georg. I. 
 
 Having made fuch an invocation in the beginning of his Work, 
 was his delicacy afterwards to be fhocked, and oblige him to pay a 
 compliment under the difguife of an obfcure conceit ? for that allegory 
 mufl be allowed to be obfcure, which had remained through fo many 
 ages unexplained. The unfortunate rejedied lines, for whofe elegance 
 we do not contend, may at leaf!: be refcued from impropriety by a li- 
 teral interpretation of the preceding palTage ; for, difmifs the conje(ftured 
 allegory, and the chief obje(5lions againft them remain no longer. If 
 the phrafeology be peculiar, it is at leail fupported by concurring MSS. 
 The adjed:ive ardens is fometimes undoubtedly joined to a word that 
 does not denote a fubflance of heat or flame, as the Critic himfelf ad- 
 mits in the cafe of ardentcs hojles^ to which we may add the verbiim 
 ardens of Cicero. As to the line which is faid to contain the moil 
 glaring note of illegitimacy, 
 
 Tithoni prima quot abed ab origine Csfar, 
 
 many reafons might induce the Poet to ufe the name of Tithonus, 
 which at this diftance of time it is not eafy for us to conjedure. Per- 
 il . haps
 
 146 NOTESTOTHE 
 
 haps he chofe It to vary the expreffion of Affaraci Proles, which he had 
 adopted in the preceding lines. The abfurdity of the fubjedi-matter, 
 and the place in which it is introduced, that are infifted on as the prin- 
 cipal obje<flions, arife folely from the allegorical hypothefis : without it 
 the conftrudtion will be plain and natural. The Poet expreffes his 
 intention of creating a temple to Auguftus, and expatiates on the mag- 
 nificence with which it was to be adorned : he then returns to his pre- 
 fent poetical fubjedl -, 
 
 Intcrea Dryadum fylvas faltufque fequamur : 
 
 and, having dwelt a little on that, to avoid too long a digreffion, very 
 naturally refumes the praifes of the Emperor, by alluding to the 
 fublimer fong which he intended to devote to him hereafter. 
 
 Max tamen ardentes accingar dicere pugnas 
 Caefaris. » 
 
 Perhaps the important pofition that gave rife to this conjecflurC;, and to 
 others of a fimilar complexion, '* that the propriety of allegorical com- 
 pofition made the diftinguiihed pride of ancient poetry," is as queftion- 
 able as the conjedure itfelf ; and a diligent and, judicious perufal of the 
 ancient Poets might convince us, that fimplicity was their genuine 
 charader, and that many of their allegorical beauties have originated in. 
 the fertile imagination of their commentators. Ariflarchus, indeed, the 
 celebrated model of ancient criticifm, rejeded with great fpirit the alle- 
 gorical interpretations of Homer, as we are informed by Eufthathius ; 
 but the good ArchbiHiop of ThelTalonica, who, like fome modern pre- 
 late?, had a paffion for allegory, cenfures the great Critic of Alexandria, 
 for his more fimple mode of conftrucflion,. and fuppofes it an injury to 
 the refined beauties and profound wifdom of the Poet. 'ApiffTCCp^os [xevtoi 
 fiYi^sv 71 T6CV 'OjU';^/:a . . . a'Kh'/f/cp&iv oilio^v, a ij.gvcv V7r£pf^QXi-/.cv ti Xsyei ciKh:^ '/.at. 
 a.o(pio!,i fj.syoLhy.Q 0L(fciifsiTcci Tcv wo^viT'/jV. EusTH. vol. iii. page 1300.. 
 
 NOTE VI. Ver&e 260- 
 
 SBaltMijloryis pc?2y to aid his vengeance loon.^^ There is hardly any emi- 
 nent gerfonage of antiquity who has fuffered more from detracftion, both. 
 
 2. in.
 
 S E C O N D ■. E P I ST h E. ^147 
 
 in his literary and moral character, tlia-a the podt Lucan". His fate^ 
 indeed, feems in all points to have been peculiarly fevere. His early 
 death, at an age when few Poets have even laid the foundation of their 
 capital work, is itfelf fufficient to excite our compaffion and regret j but 
 to perifh by the envious tyranny of Nero, ipay be confidered as a 
 blefling, when compared v/ith the more cruel misfortune of being 
 branded with infamy in the immortal pages of Tacitus. As I am per- 
 fuaded that the great Hiflorian has inadvertently adopted the grofleil 
 calumny againft our Poet, I fliali moil readily affign my reafons for 
 thinking fo. It may firit be proper to give a ihor.t llcetch of Lucan's 
 lii'e. — He was the fon of Anneus Mela, the ycungefh brother of Seneca ; 
 and though born at Corduba, was conveyed to Pvome at the age of eight 
 months : a circumflance, as his more indulgent critics obferve, which 
 fufficiently refutes the cenfure of thofe who coniider his language as 
 provincial. At Rome he was educated under the Stoic Cornutus, fo 
 warmly celebrated by his difciple Perfius the Satirifl:, who was the in- 
 timate friend of our Poet. In the clofe of his education Lucan is faid 
 to have pafled fome time at Athens. On his return to Rome he rofe to 
 the office of Quasftor, before he had attained the legal age. He was 
 afterwards inroiled among the Augurs ; and married a lady of noble 
 birth, of whcfe amiable charafter I Ihall fpeak more at large in a fubie- 
 quent note. Lucan had for fome time been admitted to familiarity with 
 Nero, when the Emperor chofe to contend for poetical honours by the 
 public recital of a poem he had compofed on Niobe ; and fome verfes 
 of this imperial produd;ion are fuppofed to be preferved in the frll: 
 Satire of Perfius. Lucan had the hardinefs to repeat a poem on 
 Orpheus, in competition with that of Nero ; and, what is more remark- 
 able, the judges of the conteft were juft and bold enough to decide againft 
 the Emperor. From hence Nero became the perfecutor of his fuccefl- 
 ful rival, and forbade him to produce any poetry in public. The well- 
 known confpiracy of Pifo againfh the tyrant foon followed ; and Taci* 
 tus, with his ufual farcallic feverity, concludes that Lucan engaged in 
 the enterprize from the poetical injuries he had received : a remark 
 which does little credit to the candour of the Hiflorian; who might have 
 found a much nobler, and, I will add, a more probable motive for his 
 condud;, in the generous ardor of his character, and his paffionate adora- 
 
 U 2 tion
 
 148 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 tion of freedom. In the fequel of his narration, Tacitus alledges a 
 charge againft our Poet, which, if it were true, nuift lead us to deteft 
 him as the moft nbjed: of mankind. The Hiftorian alTerts, that Lucan, 
 when accufcd of the confpiracy, for fome time denied the charge ; but, 
 corrupted at lall by a promifc of impunity, and defn'ous to atone for the 
 tardinefs of his confelfion, accufed his mother Atilla as his accomplice. 
 This circumftance is fo improbable in itfelf, and fo little confonant to 
 the '^eneral charadter of Lucan, that fome writers have treated it witli 
 contempt, as a calumny invented by Nero to. vilify the object of his 
 envious abhorrence. But the name of Tacitus has given fuch an air of 
 authority to the ftory, that it may fcem to deferve a more fcrious dif- 
 culUon, particularly as there are two fubfequent events related by the 
 fame Hiftorian, which have a tendency to invalidate the accufation fo 
 injurious to our Poet. The events I mean are, the flite of Annarus, and 
 the efcape of Atilla, the two parents of Lucan. The former died in 
 confequence of an accufation brought againll him, after the death of his 
 fon^ by Fabius Romanus, who had been intimate with Lucan and forged 
 fome letters in his name, with the defign of proving his father concerned 
 in the confpiracv. Thefe letters were produced to Nero, who fent 
 them to Anna:us, from an eager defire,. fiys Tacitus,, to get pofleiTion of 
 his wealtli. From this fadl two infert-nces may be drawn, according to 
 the different lights in which it may be confidered : — If the accuflition 
 againii Annnsus was jull, it is clear that Lucan had not betrayed his fa- 
 ther, and he appears the lefs likely to have endangered by his confeilion 
 the life of a parent, to whom he owed a ftill tenderer regard : — If 
 Annffus was not involved in the confpiracy, and merely put to death by 
 Nero for tlic fake of his treafure, we may the more readily believe, thiU 
 the tvrant who murdered the father from avarice, might calumniate 
 the fon from envy. But the efcape of Atilla affords us the ftrongefl 
 reafon to conclude that Lucan was perfectly innocent of the abjed: and 
 unnatural treacherv, of which Tacitus has fuppofed him guilty. Had 
 the Poet really named his mother as his accomplice, would the vindic- 
 tive and fanguinary Nero have fpared the life of a woman, whofe family 
 he detelled, particularly when other females were put to death fox their 
 ihare in the confpiracy ? That Atilla was not in that number, the 
 Hiilorian himfelf informs us in the following remarkable fentence, 
 
 Atilla
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 149 
 
 Atilla mater Annaei Lucani, fine abfolutione, fine fupplieio, difiimulata ; 
 thus tranflated by Gordon : ** The information againft Atilla, the mo- 
 ther of Lucan, was diflembled; and, without being cleared, fhe efcaped 
 unpuniflied." 
 
 The preceding remarks will,. I hope, vindicate to every candid mind 
 the honour of our Poet ; whofe firmnefs and intrepidity of chara6ter are 
 indeed vei-y forcibly difplayed in that pi(5lure of his death which 
 Tacitus himfelf has given us. I fhall prefent it to the Englifh reader 
 in the words of Gordon : — Lucan, *' while his blood iflued in flreams, 
 perceiving his feet and hands to grow cold and ftiffen, and life to retire 
 by little and little to the extremities, while his heart was ftill beating 
 with vital warmth, and his faculties no wife impaired, recolledled fome 
 lines of his own,, whicli defcribed a wounded foldier expiring in a 
 manner that refembled this.. The lines themfelves he rehearfed j and 
 they were the laft words he ever uttered." The Annals of Tacitus, 
 Book XV. — The critics differ concerning the verfes of the Pharfalia 
 which the author quoted in fo memorable a manner. I fhall tranfcribe 
 the two paffages he is fuppofed to have repeated, and only add that 
 Liofius contends for the latter. 
 
 Sanguis erant lacrymae : quaecunque foramina novit 
 Humor, ab his largus manat cruor ; era redundant, 
 Et patulag nares : fudor rubet : om-nia plenis 
 U^Membra fluunt venis : totum eft pro vulnere corpus. 
 
 Lib. ix. 814. 
 
 Now the warm blood at once, from every part. 
 
 Ran purple poifon down, and drain'd the fainting heart. 
 
 Blood falls for tears ; and o'er his mournful face 
 
 The ruddy drops their tainted pafTage trace. 
 
 Where'er the liquid juices find a way. 
 
 There fi:reams of blood, there crimfon rivers ftray.- ^ 
 
 His mouth and gufliing nofirils pour a flood. 
 
 And e'en the pores ouze out the trickling bloody; 
 
 In the red deluge all the parts lie drown'd. 
 
 And. the whole body feems one bleeding wound. 
 
 RowE.- 
 5 Sclnditur
 
 i:5P Isi O T E S TO T H E 
 
 ScindituT avulius y nee ficut vulnere foigiiis 
 Emicuit lentus ; ruptis cadit undique venis, 
 Difcurfufque anims, diverfa in membra meantis, 
 Interceptus aquis. 
 
 Lib, iii. v. 638. 
 
 Ko fingle wound the gaping rapture feems. 
 Where trickling crimfon wells in flender flreams ; 
 But, from an op'ning horrible and wide, 
 A thouiand vefTels pour the burfting tide : 
 At once the winding channel's courfe was broke. 
 Where wand' ring life her mazy journey took ; 
 At once the currents all forgot their way. 
 And lofl their purple in the azure fea. 
 
 RowF, 
 
 Such was the death of Lucan, before he had completed, his twenty- 
 feventh year. If his charader as a man has been injured by the Hifto- 
 rian, his poetical reputation has been treated not lefs injurioully by the 
 Critics. Quintilian, by a frivolous diflindion, difputes his title to be 
 clalTed among the Poets -, and Scaliger fays, with a brutality of language 
 difo-raceful only to himfelf, that he feems rather to !?ark than \.o fing. 
 But thefe infults may appear amply compenfated, when we remember, 
 that in the moil polidied nations of modern Europe the moft elevated 
 and poetic fpirits have been his warmeft admirers -, that in France he 
 was idolized by Corneille, and in England tranflated by Rowe. — The 
 fevereft cenfures on Lucan have proceeded from thofe who have 
 unfairly compared his language to that of Virgil : but how unjufl and 
 abfurd is fuch a comparifon ! it is comparing an uneven block of 
 porphyry, taken rough from the quarry, to the moft beautiful fuper- 
 ficies of polifhed marble. How differently ihould we think of Virgil 
 as a poet, if we poffeffed only the verfes which he wrote at that period 
 of life when Lucan compofed his Pharlalia ! In the difpofition of his 
 fubjed, in the propriety and elegance of didion, he is undoubtedly far 
 inferior to Virgil : but if we attend to the bold originality of his deiign, 
 and to the vigour of his fentiments 3 if we confider the Pharfalia as the 
 
 rapid
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 151 
 
 rapid and uncorre6ted fketch of a young poet, executed in an age when 
 the fpirit of his countrymen was broken, and their tafte in literature 
 corrupted, it may juftly be efteemed as one of the mofh noble and moft 
 wonderful productions of the human mind. 
 
 NOTE VII. Verse 293. 
 
 As Lejhos paid to Pompeys lovely Wife.'] Pompey, after his defeat at; 
 Pharfalia, proceeded to Lefbos, as he had left his wife Cornelia to the 
 protection of that ifland ; which received the unfortunate hero with a 
 fublime generofity. The Lefbians entreated him to remain amongft 
 them, and promifed to defend him. Pompey exprefled his gratitude for 
 their fidelity, but declined the offer, and embarked with Cornelia. The 
 concern of this gallant people on the departure of their amiable guell is 
 thus defcribed by Lucan : 
 
 ' dixit; moeftamque carinas 
 
 Impofuit comitem. Cundtos mutare putares 
 Tellurem patrisque folum : fie litore toto 
 Plangitur, infefiiae tenduntur in aethera dextras ; 
 Pompeiumque minus, cujus for tuna dolorem 
 Moverat, aft illam, quam toto tempore belli 
 Ut civem videre fuam, difcedere cernens 
 Ingemuit populus; quam vix, fi cafira mariti 
 Vi<floris peteret, ficcis dimittere matres 
 Jam poterant oculis : tanto devinxit amore 
 Hos pudor, hos probitas, cafiique mcdefiia vultus. 
 
 Lib. viii. v. 1415. 
 
 He ceas'^; and to the fhip his partner bore. 
 While loud complainings fill the founding fhore ; 
 It feem'd as if the nation with her pafs'd, 
 And banifhment had laid their ifland wafie. 
 Their fecond forrows they to Pompey give ; 
 For her as for their citizen they grieve : 
 E'en though glad vicflory had call'd her thence,. 
 And her Lord's bidding been the juft pretence. 
 
 The,
 
 152 NOTES TO THE 
 
 'The Lefbian matrons had in tears been drown'd. 
 And brought her weeping to their wat'ry bound : 
 So was flie lov'd, fo winning was her grace. 
 Such lowly fweetnefs .dwelt upon her face. Rowe. 
 
 NOTE VIII. Verse 296. 
 Let Argentaria on your cdnvafs Jhine.'\ Polla Argentaria was the 
 daughter of a Roman Senator, and the wife of Lucan. She is faid to 
 have tranfcribed and corrected the three firft books of the Pharfalia, after 
 the death of her hufband. It is much to be regretted that we poffefs not 
 the poem which he wrote on the merits of this amiable and accomplifhed 
 woman; but her name is immortalized by two furviving Poets of that 
 age. The veneration which {he paid to the memory of her hufband, is 
 recorded by Martial,; and more poetically defcribed in that pleafing and 
 elegant little produd;ioji of Statius, Gaiethliacon Lucaniy a poem v/hich 
 I the more readily commend, as I may be thought by fome readers un- 
 juft towards its author, in omitting to celebrate his Thebaid. I confefs, 
 indeed, the mifcellaneous poems of Statius appear to me his mofl va- 
 luable work : in moll of thefe there is much imagination and fentiment, 
 in harmonious and fpirited verfe. The little poem which I have men- 
 tioned, on the anniverfary of Lucan's birth, is faid to have been written 
 at the requeft of Argentaria. The Author, after invoking the poetical 
 deities to attend the ceremony, touches with great delicacy and fpirit 
 on the compofitions of Lucan's childhood, which are lofl, and the Phar- 
 falia, the production of his eai'ly youth ; he then pays a iliort compli- 
 ment to the beauty and talents of Argentaria, laments the cruel fate 
 which deprived her fo immaturely of domeftic happinefs ; and concludes 
 with the following addrefs to the fhade of Lucan ; 
 
 At tu, feu rapidum poll per axem 
 Famas curribus arduis levatus. 
 Qua furgunt anim^e potentiores. 
 Terras defpicis, et fepulchra rides : 
 Seu pacis meritum nemus reclufse 
 Felix Elyfiis tenes in oris, 
 .Quo Fharfalica turba congregatur; 
 
 Et
 
 SECOND EPISTLE. 153 
 
 Et te nobile carmen infonantem 
 Pompeii comitantur et Catones : 
 Tu magna facer et fuperbus umbra 
 Nefcis Tartaron, et procul nocentum 
 Audis verbera, pallidumque vifa 
 Matris lampade refpicis Neronem. 
 Adfis lucidus ; etvocante Polla 
 Unum, quajfo, diem deos filentum 
 Exores -, folet hoc patere limen 
 Ad nuptas redeuntibus maritis. 
 Haec te non thiafis procax dolofis 
 Falfi numinis induit figuras ; 
 Ipfum fed colit, et frequentat ipfum 
 Imis altius infitum medullis ; 
 Ac folatia vana fubminiftrat 
 Vultus, qui fmiili notatus auro 
 Stratis prEEnitet, excubatque fomno 
 Securae. Procul liinc abite mortes j 
 Haec vitae genitalis eft origo ; 
 Cedat ludtus atrox, genifque manent 
 Jam dulces lacrymae, dolorque feilus 
 Quicquid fleverat ante nunc adoret. 
 
 But you, O ! whether to the fkies 
 On Fame's triumphant car you rife, 
 (Where mightier fouls new life alTume) 
 And mock the confines of the tomb ; 
 Or whether in Elyfium bleft 
 You grace the groves of facred reft. 
 Where the Pharfalian heroes dwell ; 
 And, as you ftrike your Epic fhell. 
 The Pompeys and the Catos throng 
 To catch the animating fong ; 
 Of Tartarus the dread controul 
 Binds not your high and hallow'd foul ; 
 
 X Diilant
 
 i^^ NOTES, &c. 
 
 Diftant you hear that wailing coaft. 
 And fee the guilty Nero's ghoft 
 Grow pale with anguifh and affright. 
 His mother flafhing on his fight. 
 
 Be prefent to your Polla's vows. 
 While to your honour'd name fhe bows ! 
 One day let your intreaties gain 
 From thofe who rule the fhadovry train! 
 Their gates have op'd to blefs a wife. 
 And given a hufband back to life. 
 In you the tender Fair invites 
 No fancied god with frantic rites ; 
 You are the objedt of her prayers. 
 You in her inmoft heart flie bears : 
 And, flampt on mimic gold, your head 
 Adorns the faithful mourner's bed. 
 And fooths her eyes before they clofe. 
 The guardian of her chafle repofe. 
 
 Away with all funereal flate! 
 From hence his nobler life we date : 
 Let Mourning change the pang fevere 
 To fond Devotion's grateful tear! 
 And feftal grief, its anguifh o'er. 
 What it lamented, now adore ! 
 
 I cannot clofe tliis note without obferving, that the preceding verfes 
 have a flrong tendency to prove, that Lucan was perfed:ly innocent in. 
 regard to the accufation v/hich I have examined before. Had he been 
 really guilty of bafely endangering the life of his mother, it is not pro- 
 bable that his wife would have honoured, his memory with fuch enthu- 
 fiaflic veneration, or that Statins, in verfes deiigned to do him honour, 
 would have alluded to tie mother of Nero. The Reader will pardon my 
 recurring to this fubject, as it is pleafing to make ufe of every argument 
 which may remove fo odious and unjuft a flain froma manly and. exalted. 
 elxara<^ex». 
 
 K O T E S>
 
 [ 155 ] 
 
 O T E S 
 
 TO THE 
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 A 
 
 NOTE I. Verse 36. 
 
 ^ND fmiles of triumph hid his mortal pang, '\ An allulion to ridens 
 moriar, the clofe of the celebrated Northern Ode, by the Danifh 
 king Regner Lodbrog , a tranflation of which is inferted in the curious 
 little volume of Runic poetry, printed for Dodfley, 1763. 
 
 Bartholin, in his admirable ElTay on the Caufes which infpired the 
 Danes with a Contempt of Death, affirms, that it was cuftomary with the 
 Northern warriors to ling their own exploits in the clofe of life. He men- 
 tions the example of a hero, named Hallmundus, who being mortally 
 wounded, commanded his daughter to attend while he compofed a poem, 
 and to infcribe it on a tablet of wood. Bartholin, Lib. i. cap. 10. 
 
 NOTE II. Verse 60. 
 
 And galls the ghojily T^yrant with her lafi.'\ The poetry of Provence 
 contains many fpirited fatires againfl the enormities of the Clergy. The 
 moft remarkable, is the bold inventive of the Troubadour Guillaume Fi- 
 gueira, in which he execrates the avarice and the cruelty of Rome. The 
 Papal caufe found a female Poet to defend it : Germonda of Montpellier 
 compofed a poetical reply to the fatire of Figueira. See Mil lot's 
 Hift. des Troubadours, vol. ii. p. 455. 
 
 X2 NOTE
 
 156 NOTESTOTHE 
 
 NOTE III. Verse 76. 
 
 Struck with ill-fated zeal the Latian lyre.] There never was a cen- 
 tury utterly deftitute of ingenious and elegant Poets, fays the learned 
 Polycarp Leyfer, after having patiently traced the obfcure progrefs of 
 Latin poetry through all the dark ages. Indeed the merit of fome Latin 
 Poets, in a period that we commonly fuppofe involved in the groilefl 
 barbarifm, is fingularly ftriking ; many of thefe are of the Epic kind, 
 and, as they defcribe the manners and cufloms of their refpedive times, a 
 complete review of them might form a curious and entertaining work. 
 I fhall briefly mention fuch as appear moil worthy of notice. 
 
 Abbo, a Parifian monk, of the Benedidline order, wrote a poem on 
 the fiege of Paris by the Normans and the Danes, at which he was pre- 
 fent, in the year 886 : it is printed in the fecond volume of Duchefne's 
 Script. Francorum; and, though it has little or no poetical merit, may be 
 regarded as an hiftorical curiofity. The following lines, addrefled to the 
 city of Paris, in the beginning of the work, may ferve as a fpecimen 
 of its language : 
 
 Die igitur prsepulchra polls, quod Danea munus 
 Libavit tibimet, foboles Plutonis amica. 
 Tempore quo prsful domini et dulciffimus heros- 
 Gozlinus temet paflorque benignus alebat! 
 Hsc inquit, miror, narrare poteft aliquifne ? 
 Nonne tuis idem vidifti oculis ? refer ergo : 
 Vidi equidem, jufTifque tuis parebo libenter.. 
 
 Leyfer has confounded this Poet with another of this name ; but F*a— 
 bricius has correded the miftake, in his Bibliotheca Latina mediae et 
 infimaj JEt2.tis. 
 
 Guido, Bifliop of Amiens from the year 1058 to 1076, wrote an 
 Heroic poem on the exploits of William the Conqueror, in which, 
 according to Ordcricus Vitalis, he imitated both Virgil and Statius. 
 William of Apulia compoied, at the requefl of Pope Urban the lid, a 
 poem, in iive books, on the adions of the Normans in Sicily, Apulia, 
 and Calabria, to the death of Robert Guifcard their orince; addreffing 
 
 his
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 157 
 
 his work to the fon of that hero. It was written between the years 
 1080 and 1099; firft printed in 1582, 4to ; and again in Muratori's 
 Script. Ital. Du Cange, in his Notes to the Alcxiad of the Princefs 
 Anna Comnena, has illuflrated that hiftory by frequent and long quota- 
 tions from William of Apulia; but though the learned Critic gives him 
 the title of Scriptor Egregius, his poetry appears to me but a few de- 
 grees fuperior to that of the Monk Abbo, whom I have juft mentioned^ 
 The Reader may judge from the following palTage, which I feledl not 
 only as a fpecimen of the Author's ftyle, but as it fliews that the wives, 
 of thefe martial Princes fhared with them in all the perils of v/ar. 
 
 Uxor in hoc hello Roberti forte fagitta 
 Quadam laefa fuit, qu?e vulnere territa, nullam- 
 Dum fperabat opem, fe pene fubegerat hofti, 
 Navigio cujus fe commendare volebat, 
 Inftantis metuens vicina pericula lethi : 
 Hanc deus eripuit, fieri ludibria nolens 
 Matronas tants tarn nobilis et vcnerand;£.. 
 
 The Princefs Comnena has alfo celebrated the fortitude which this 
 Heroine, whofe name was Gaita, difplayed in the battle ; and it is re- 
 markable, that the royal female Hiilorian defcribes the noble Amazon. 
 more poetically than the Latin Poet. 
 
 Gualfredo, an Italian, who fucceeded to the bidioprick of Siena in the 
 year 1080, and died in 11 27, wrote an Heroic poem on the expedition 
 of Godfrey of Boulogne, which is faid to be iliil preferved in MS. at 
 Siena. I believe Gualfredo is the firfl: Poet, in point of time, who 
 treated of the happy fubje6l of the Crufades ; which was afterwards em- 
 bellifhed by two very elegant writers of Latin verfe, Ifcanus and Gun- 
 ther, of whom I fhall prefently fpeak, and at length received its higheil: 
 honour from the genius of Taflb. There is alfo an early Latin poem on 
 this fubjed:, the joint produdion of two writers, named Fulco andiEgi- 
 dius, whom the- accurate Fabricius places in the beginning of the 13th 
 century ; the title of the work is Hiiloria Geflorum Vias noflri Tem- 
 pori's Hierofolymitanae. It is printed in the fourth volume of Duchefne's- 
 Script. Franc, and with confiderable additions in the third volume o£ 
 
 Anecdotal
 
 -1-8 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Anecdota Edmundi iVIartene. I tranfcribe part of the opening of this 
 poem, as the curious reader may have a pleafure in comparing it with 
 that of Tallb. 
 
 Ardor inell, inquam, fententia iixaque menti 
 Verfibus et numeris tranfmittere pofleritati 
 Qualiter inltindu deitatis, et aufpice cultu 
 Eft aggrefla via memorando nobilis adlu. 
 Qua lacrofandi violantes jura fepulchri 
 Digna receperunt meriti commercia pravi. 
 Inque fuis Francis antiqua refurgere Troja 
 Coepit, et edomuit Chrillo contraria regna. 
 
 I will only add the portrait of Godfrey : 
 
 Inclytus ille ducum Godefridus culmen honofque. 
 Omnibus exemplum bonitatis miiitiffque, 
 Sive haftajaculans ^quaret Parthica tela, 
 Cominus aut feriens terebraret ferrea fcuta, 
 Seu gladio pugnans carnes refecaret et oila, 
 Sive eques atque pedes propelleret agmina denfa. 
 Hie inimicitiis cund:is libi conciliatis 
 Cundlis poiTeiTis pro ChrilH pace relidis 
 Arripuit callem Chriftum fedtando vocantem. 
 
 The poem clofes vnth. the capture of Jerufalem. 
 
 Laurentius of Verona, who flouriflied about the year 1120, wrote an 
 Heroic poem, in {even books, entitled, Rerum in Majorica Pifanorum. 
 Edidit Ughellus, torn. 3. ItaliGe lacrae. 
 
 But in merit and reputation, thefe early Latin Poets of modern time are 
 very far inferior tu Philip G aaiticr de Chatillon, who feems to have been 
 the iirft that caught any portion of true poetic fpirit in Latin verfe. He 
 was Provoll of the Canons of Tournay* about the year 1200, according 
 to Mr. War ton, who has given fome fpecimens of his flyle in the fecond 
 DilTertation prefixed to his admirable Hiftory of Englifh Poetry. I fliall 
 .therefore only add, that the beft edition of his Alexandreid, an Heroic 
 
 * Fa.bricius calls him Epifcopus Magalonenfis. Bib. Lat. torn. ii. p. 255. 
 
 o poem
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. ,^9 
 
 poem in ten books on Alexander the Great, was printed at Leyden,. 
 4to, 1558. 
 
 The fuperior merit of Jofephus Ifcanus, or Jofeph of Exeter, has been 
 alfo difplayed by the fame judicious Encomiaft, in the DifTertation I have 
 mentioned ; nor has he failed to commemorate two Latin Epic Poets of 
 the fame period, and of confiderable merit for the time in which they 
 \i\iA — Gunther, and William of Bretagny ; the firft was a German 
 moi:i who wrote after the year 1108, and has left various hiftorical 
 and poetical works ; particularly two of the Epic kind — Solymarium, a 
 poem on the taking of Jerufalem by Godfrey of Bulloign ; and another, 
 entitled Ligurinus, on the exploits of the Emperor Frederick Barba- 
 roffa, which he completed during the life of that Prince. The firft 
 was never printed ; of the latter there have been feveral editions, and 
 one by the celebrated Melancfthon, in 1569. That his poetical merit was 
 confiderable in many refpecfts, will appear from the following verfes, in 
 which he fpeaks of himfelf. 
 
 Hoc quoque me fam^ae, fi defint caetera, folum 
 Conciliare poteft, quod jam per multa latentes 
 Sascula, nee claulis prodire penatibus aufas 
 Pierides vulgare paro, prifcumque nitorem 
 Reddere carminibus, tardofque citare poetas,. 
 
 William of Bretagny was preceptor to Pierre Chariot, natural fon of 
 Philip Auguftus, King of France, and addreiied a poem to his pupil, 
 entitled Karlotis, v/hich is yet unpublifhed ; but his greater work, called 
 Philippis, an Heroic poem in twelve books, is printed in the collections 
 of Duchefne and Pithaeus ; and in a feparate 4to volume, with a copious 
 commentary by Barthius. Notwithfianding the praifes beilowed on 
 this Author by his learned Commentator, who prefers him to all his 
 contemporaries, he appears to me inferior in poetic fpirit to his three 
 rivals, Gualtier de Chatillon, Ifcanus, and Gunther. Yet his work is 
 by no means defpicable in its ftyle, and may be confidered as a valuable 
 pidiure of the times in which he lived ; for he was himfelf engaged in 
 many of the fcenes which he defcribes. His profeil defign is to cele- 
 brate the exploits of Philip Au^uflus y and he clofes his poem with the 
 
 death;
 
 i6o N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 death of that Monarch, which happened in 1223. ^^ addreffes his 
 work, in two feparate poetical dedications, to Lewis, the fucceflbr of 
 Philip, and to Pierre Chariot his natural fon, who was Bifhop of Noyon 
 in 1240, and died 1249. He feems to have been excited to this compo- 
 fition by the reputation of Gualtier's Alexandreid ; to which he thus 
 alludes, in the verfes addreffed to Lewis : 
 
 Gefta ducis Macedum celebri defcribere verfu 
 Si licuit Gualtere tibi, quas fola relatu 
 Multivago docuit te vociferatio famae. 
 
 Cur ego qua? novi, proprio quai lumine vidi, 
 Non aufim magni magnalia fcribere regis, 
 Qui nee Alexandro minor efl virtute, nee illo 
 Urbi Romuleae totum qui fubdidit orbem ? 
 
 He takes occafion alfo, in two other parts of his poem, to pay a liberal 
 compliment to Gualtier, to whom, in poetical ability, he confelTes 
 himfelf inferior; but this infci'iority his admirer Barthius will not 
 allow. Of their refpedtive talents the reader may judge, who will 
 compare the paffage which Mr, Warton has cited from the Alexandreid, 
 with the following lines, in which William of Bretagny ufes the very 
 iimile of his predecelTor, comparing his hero Philip to a young lion. 
 
 Rex dolet ereptum comitem fibi, frendit, et iras 
 Occultare nequit ted:os fub peilore motus. 
 Nam rubor in vultu duplicatus prodit aperte 
 Qiiam gravis illuftrem trahit indignatio mentem. 
 Qualiter in Lybicis fpumante leunculo ri<5tu 
 Saltibus ungue ferox, et dentibus afper aduncis 
 Fortis et horrifonis anno jam pene fecundo, 
 Cui venatoris venabula forte per armos 
 Defcendere levi ftringentia vulnere corpus, 
 Colla rigens hirfuta jubis defasvit in hoftem 
 Jam retrocedentem, nee eum tetigilTe volentem, 
 Ciun nihil ex fa<fto referat nifi dedecus illo. 
 
 Nee
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. i6i 
 
 Nee mora nee requies, quin jam deglutiat ipfum, 
 
 Ni prudens hoflis praetenta cufpide fcuto 
 
 Unguibus objecflo, dum dat veftigia retro. 
 
 In loca fe retrahat non irrumpenda leoni. 
 
 Sic puer in comitem rex debacchatur et ipfum 
 
 Subfequitur preflb relegens veftigia grelTu. 
 
 I will add the following paflage from the eleventh Book, as it con- 
 tains an animated portrait, and a fimile more original than the pre- 
 ceding. 
 
 At Igevo in cornu, qui nuUi marte fecundus, 
 Bolonides pugnse inliftit, cui fraxinus ingens 
 Nunc implet dextram, vix uUi bajula, qualem 
 In Bacchi legimus portaffe Capanea cunas, 
 Quam vix fulmineo dejecit Jupiter iOiu : 
 Nunc culter vitae impatiens, nunc fanguine pugni 
 Mucro rubens ; gemina e fublimi vertice fulgens 
 Cornua conus agit, fuperafque eduxit in auras 
 E coftis affumpta nigris, quas faucis in antro 
 Branchia balenas Britici colit incola ponti ; 
 Ut qui magnus erat magnas fuperaddita moli 
 Majorem faceret phantaftica pompa videri. 
 Ac velut in faltus fcopulofi Bieria faltu 
 Prsecipiti mittit ingenti corpore cervum, 
 Cujus multifidos numerant a cornibus annos, 
 Menfe fub Odlobri nondum Septembre peradto. 
 Annua quando novis Venus incitat ignibus ilium, 
 Curlitat in cervos ramofa fronte minores. 
 Omnibus ut pulfis vidor fub tegmine fagi 
 Connubio cervam folus fibi fubdat amatam. 
 Haud fecus e peditum medio, quibus ipfe rotundo 
 Ut caftro cauta fe circumfepferat arte, 
 Profiliens volat in Thomam, Robertigenafque 
 Drocarum Comitem, Belvacenumque Philippum 
 Bolonides , — — 
 
 Y William
 
 i62 ^ N O T E S T O THE 
 
 William of Bretagny- had an immediate fucceflbr in Latin poetry, 
 who appears to have at leafl an equal portion of poetical fpirit ; the 
 name of this Author is Nicholas de Brai, who wrote an Heroic poem 
 on the adions of Louis the Vlllth, after the death of that Monarch, 
 and addrefled it to William of Auvergne, who was BiHiop of Paris 
 from the year 1228 to 1248. As a fpecimen of his defcriptive power, I 
 felect the following lines, which form part of a long defcription of a 
 Goblet prefented to the King on his acceffion : 
 
 — — — — Parant intrare palatia regis 
 Magnifici cives, gratifhma dona ferentes, 
 Tegmina quos ornant variis infculpta figuris ; 
 Et patrem patris jucundi voce falutant, 
 Et genibus flexis praefentant ditia dona. 
 
 Offertur crater, quem fi fit credere dignum 
 Perditus ingenio fabricavit Mulciber auro^ 
 Margine crateris totus depingitur orbis, 
 Et feries rerum brevibus diflinda figuris : 
 Illic pontus erat, tellus et pcndulus aer. 
 Ignis ad alta volans cceli fupereminet illis : 
 Quatuor in partes orbis diilinguitur, ingens 
 Circuit oceanus immenfis fludtibus orbem. 
 Ingenio natura fuo duo lumina fecit 
 Fixa tenore poli, miindi famulantia rebus. 
 
 The Author proceeds to defcribe Thebes and Troy, as they are figured on 
 this fuperb Goblet -, and concludes his account of the workmanfhip 
 with the four following lines, of peculiar beauty for the age in which 
 they appeared : 
 
 Martis adulterium refupino margine pinxit 
 Mulciber, et Venerem laqueis cum Marte ligavit ; 
 Pluraque cselafiet fub margine, fed pudor illi 
 
 Obftat, et iiigentis renovatur caufa doloris. 
 
 This 
 
 1
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 163 
 
 This Poem, which the author feems to have left imperfedl, is printed 
 in the fifth volume of Duchefne's Script. Francorum. — England is faid 
 to have produced another Heroic Poet of confiderable merit, who cele- 
 brated in Latin verfe the exploits of Richard the Firft, and who was 
 called Gulielmus Peregrinus, from his having attended that Prince to 
 the Holy Land. Leland mentions him by the name of Gulielmus de 
 Canno, and Pits calls him Poetarum fui temporis apud noftrates facile 
 Princeps ; but I do not find that his Work was ever printed ; nor do the 
 feveral biographical writers who fpeak of him, inform us where it ex- 
 ifts in MS. 
 
 In Italy the Latin language is fuppofed to have been cultivated with 
 {till greater fuccefs, and the restoration of its purity is in great meafure 
 afcribed to Albertino Mufiato, w^hofe merits were firft difplaved to our 
 country by the learned author of the Elfay on Pope. — 'Mullluo was a 
 Paduan, of high rank and great talents, but unfortunate. Pie died in 
 exile, 1329, and left, befides many fmaller Latin pieces, an Heroic 
 Poem, De Geftis Italorum pofl; Henricum VII. Casfarem, feu de Obfi- 
 dione Domini Canis Grandis de Verona circa maenia Paduan^e civitatis 
 et Confli6tu ejus. — Quadrio, from whom I tranfcribe this title, fays it 
 is printed in the tenth volume of Muratori. Voffius, who fpeaks of 
 him as an Hiftorian, aflerts that he commanded in the war which is the 
 lubjecfl of his Poem. 
 
 In a few years after the death of Mufiato, Petrarch received the laurel 
 at Rome, for his Latin Epic poem, entitled Africa ; a performance 
 which has funk fo remarkably from the high reputation it once obtained, 
 that the great admirer and encomiaft of Petrarch, who has published 
 three entertaining quarto volumes on his life, calls it ** Un ouvrage fans 
 chaleur, fans invention, fans interet, qui n'a pas meme le merite de la 
 verfification & du ftyle, & dont il eft impoflible de foutenir la ]ed:ure. — 
 I muft obferve, however, that Taftb, in his Eflay on Epic Poetry, 
 beftows a very high encomium on that part of Petrarch's Latin poem 
 in which he celebrates the loves of Sophonifba and MafinifTa ^ and indeed 
 the cenfure of this amiable French writer, who in other points has done 
 ample juftice to the merits of Petrarch, appears to me infinitely too 
 fevere. There are many pailages in this negleded Poem conceived with 
 great force and imagination, and expreffed with equal elegance of lan- 
 
 Y 2 guage*
 
 i64 NOTES TO THE 
 
 guage. I jfhall feledt fome verfes from that part of it which has beert 
 honoured by the applaufe of Tallb. The following lines defcribe the 
 anguifh of the young Numidian Prince, when he is conftrained to aban- 
 don his lovely bride : 
 
 Volvitur inde thoro (quoniam fub pe6tore pernox 
 Saevit amor, lacerantque truces praecordia curas) 
 Uritur, invigilant mceror, metus, ira, furorque, 
 Saepe & abfentem lacrymans duni ftringit amicam 
 Saepe thoro dedit amplexus, et dulcia verba. 
 Poilquam nulla valent violento fraena dolori,. 
 Incipit, et longis folatur damna querelis. 
 Cura mihi nimium, vita mihi dulcior omni 
 Sophonifba vale : non te mea cura videbo 
 Leniter aethereos pofthac componere vultus, 
 Effufofque auro religantem ex more capillos. 
 Dulcia, non caelum mulcentia verba, Deofque^ 
 Oris odorati, fecretaque murmura carpam. 
 Solus ero gelidoque inflernain membra cubili, 
 Atque utinam focio componat amica fepulchro, 
 Et fimul hie vetitos,. illic concorditer annos 
 Contingat duxiile mihi fors optima bufti. 
 Si cinis amborum commixtis morte medullis 
 Unus erit, Scipio nollros non fcindet amores. 
 O utinam infernis etiam nunc una latebris 
 Umbra fimus, liceat pariter per clauflra vagari 
 Myrtea, nee noftros Scipio disjungat amores. 
 Ibimus una ambo flentes, et paiTibus iifdem 
 Ibimus, aeterno connexi foedere, nee nos 
 Ferreus aut asquos Scipio interrumpet amores. 
 
 The well-known cataftrophe of the unfortunate Sophonifba is related| 
 with much poeticd fpirit. The clofe of her life, and her hrft appearance 
 in the regions of the dead, are peculiarly flriking. 
 
 Ilia manu pateramque tenens, & lumina ccelo 
 Attollens, Sol alme, inquit, fuperique valete I 
 
 Mafinifla
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 165 
 
 MafiniiTa vale, noftri memor : inde malignum 
 Ceu fitiens haurit non mota fronte venenum, 
 Tartareafque petit violentus fpiritus umbras. 
 
 Nulla magis Styglos mlrantum obfeiTa corona 
 Umbra lacus fubiit, poftquam divifa triformis 
 Partibus baud acquis lletit ingens machina mundL 
 Obtuitu attonito ftabant horrentia circum 
 Agmiiia Po^narum, fparfoque rigentia villo 
 Eumenidum tacitis inhiabant riclibus ora. 
 Regia vis oculis inerat,. pallorque verendus 
 Et vetus egregia majeilas fronte manebat. 
 Indignata tamen fuperis, irataque morti 
 Ibat et exiguo defigens lumina flexu. 
 
 With Petrarch I may clofe this curfory review of the neo-leded 
 authors who wrote Heroic poems in Latin, during the courfe of the 
 dark ages. — A peculiar circumftance induces me to add another name to 
 the preceding liil:. John, Abbot of Peterborough, in the reign of 
 Edward the Third, wrote an Heroic poem, entitled Belhim Navarrenfe, 
 1366, de Petro rege Aragoni^e, & Edwardo Principe. This per- 
 formance, containing five hundred and fixty verfes, is faid to be pre- 
 ferved in MS. in the Bodleian Library ^ and I have thought it worthy 
 of notice, becaufe it treats of the very fubjed: on which Dry den informs 
 us he had once projected an Epic poem. 
 
 Of the many Latin compofitions of the Epic kind, which later times 
 have produced, the Chrifliad of Vida, the Sarcotis of MafTenius, and the 
 Conftantine of Mambrun, appear to me the mofl worthy of regard ; but 
 even thefe are feldom perufed : and indeed the Poet, who in a polifliecl 
 age prefers the ufe of a dead language to that of a living one, can only 
 exped:, and perhaps only deferves, the attention of a few curious fe- 
 queftered fludents. 
 
 N O T R
 
 i66 NOTES TO THE 
 
 NOTE IV. Verse 8i. 
 
 T^hy daring Dante his wild Vijionfung.'] Dante AUighicri was born at 
 Florence, in May 1265, of an ancient and honourable family. Boccacio, 
 who lived in the fame period, has left a very curious and entertaining 
 Treatife, on the Life, the Studies, and Manners of this extraordinary 
 Poet ; whom he regarded as his mafler, and for whofe memory he pro- 
 feifed the highefl veneration. This interefting biographer relates, that 
 Dante, before he was nine years old, conceived a paffion for the lady 
 whom he has immortalized in his fingular Poem. Her age was near his 
 own ; and her name was Beatrice, the daughter of Folco Portinari, a 
 noble citizen of Florence. Of this fair one the befl: accounts are ob- 
 fcure. Some refining commentators have even denied her corporeal exift- 
 ence; affirming her to be nothing more or lefs than Theology. But we 
 may queilion if Theology was ever the miflrefs of fo young a lover. 
 The paffion of Dante, however, like that of his fuccellbr Petrarch, feems 
 to have been of the chafle and Platonic kind, according to the account 
 he has himfelf given of it, in one of his early produdions, entitled 
 Vita Nuova ; a mixture of myfterious poetry and profe, in which he 
 mentions both the origin of his affed:ion and the death of his miftrefs, 
 who, according to Boccacio, died at the age of twenty-four. The fame 
 author aflerts, that Dante fell into a deep melancholy in confequence of 
 this event, from which his friends endeavoured to raife him, by per- 
 fuading him to marriage. After fome time he followed their advice, 
 and repented it j for he unfortunately made choice of a lady who bore 
 fome refemblance to the celebrated Xantippe. The Poet, not poffieffing 
 the patience of Socrates, feparated himfelf from her with fuch vehement 
 expreffions of diflike, that he never afterwards admitted her to his pre- 
 fence, though fhe had borne him feveral children. — In the early part of. 
 his life he gained fome credit in a military charadier y diftinguiffiing 
 himfelf by his bravery in an action where the Florentines obtained a 
 fisnal vicftorv over the citizens of Arezzo. He became flill more emi- 
 nent by the acquifition of civil honours ; and at the age of thirty-five 
 he rofe to be one of the chief magillrates of Florence, when that 
 dignity was conferred by the fuffrages of the people. From this ex- 
 altation
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 16;^ 
 
 altation the Poet himfelf dated his principal misfortunes, as appears 
 from the fragment of a letter quoted by Lionardo Bruni, one of his 
 -early biographers, where Dante fpeaks of his political failure with that 
 liberal franknefs which integrity infpires.— -Italy was at that time dif- 
 tradied by the contending fadions of the Ghibellins and the Guelphs : 
 the latter, among whom Dante took an adive part, were again divided 
 into the Blacks and the Whites. Dante, fiys Gravina, exerted all his 
 influence to unite thefe inferior parties ; but his efforts were ineffedual, 
 and he had the mxisfortune to be unjuftly perfecuted by thofe of his own 
 faction. A powerful citizen of Florence, named Corfo Donati, had 
 taken meafures to terminate thefe intefline broils, by introducino- 
 Charles of Valois, brother to Philip the Fair, King of France. Dante, 
 with great vehemence, oppofed this dilgraceful projed, and obtained the 
 baniihment of Donati and his partizans. The exiles applied to the 
 Pope (Boniface the Vlllth) and by his aiTiflrance fucceeded in their 
 delign. Charles of Valois entered Florence in triumph, and thofe 
 who had oppofed his admiffion were baniihed in their turn. Dante had 
 been difpatched to Rome as the ambaffador of his party, and was re- 
 turning, when he received intelligence of the revolution in his native 
 city. His enemies, availing themfelves of his abfence, had procured an 
 iniquitous fentence againJl: him, by which he was condemned to banifli- 
 ment, and his polleffions v/ere coniifcated. His tv/o enthufiailic bio- 
 graphers, Boccacio and Manetti, exprefs the warmeft indignation againft 
 this injuflice of his country. Dante, on receiving the intelligence, took 
 refuge in Siena, and afterv/ards in Arezzo, where many of his party 
 were alTembled. An attempt was made to furprize the city of Florence, 
 by a fmall army which Dante is fuppofed to have attended : the delign 
 mifcarried, and our Poet is conjedured to have wandered to various parts 
 of Italy, till he found a patron in the great Can della Scala, Prince 
 of Verona, whom he has celebrated in his Poem. The high fpirit of 
 Dante was ill fuited to courtly dependence \ and he is laid to have lofl 
 the favour of his Veroneze patron by the rough franknefs of his beha- 
 viour. From Verona he retired to France, according to Manetti ; and 
 Boccacio affirms that he difputed in the Theological Schools of Paris 
 with great reputation. Bayle queflions his vifiting Paris at this period 
 of his life, and thinks it improbable, that a man, who had been one of 
 
 6 the
 
 i6S N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 the chief magiftrates of Florence, iliould condefcend to engage in the 
 public fquabbles of the Parifian Theologifts ; but the fpirit both of 
 Dante, and the times in which he lived, fufficiently account for this ex* 
 ercife of his talents ; and his refidence in France at this feafon is con- 
 firmed by Boccacio, in his life of our Poet, which Bayle feems to have 
 had no opportunity of confulting. 
 
 The eiedion of Henry Count of Luxemburgh to the empire, in 
 November 1308, afforded Dante a profpedl of being reftored to his na- 
 tive city, as he attached himfelf to the interefl of the new Emperor, 
 in whofe fervice he is fuppofed to have written his Latin treatife De 
 Monarchia, in which he afferted the rights of the Empire againfi: the 
 encroachments of the Papacy. In the year 131 1, he iniligated Henry to 
 lay fiege to Florence ; in which enterprize, fays one of his Biographers, 
 he did not appear in perfon, from motives of refpedl towards his native 
 city. The Emperor was repulfed by the Florentines ; and his death, 
 which happened in the fucceeding year, deprived Dante of all hopes 
 concerning his re-eflablifliment in Florence. 
 
 After this difappointment, he is fuppofed to have paffed fome years in 
 roving about Italy in a ftate of poverty and diftrefs, till he found an 
 honourable eftablifhment at Ravenna, under the protedion of Guido 
 Novello da Polenta, the lord of that city, who received this illuflrious 
 exile with the moft endearing liberality, continued to prote(5l him 
 through the few remaining years of his life, and extended his munifi- 
 cence to the afhes of the Poet. 
 
 Eloquence was one of the many talents which Dante poileffed in an 
 eminent degree. On this account he is faid to have been employed on 
 fourteen different embaffies in the courfe of his life, and to have fuc- 
 ceeded in moft of them. His patron Guido had occafion to try his 
 abilities in a fervice of this nature, and difpatched him as his ambaffador 
 to negociatc a peacq with the Venetians, who were preparing for hofti- 
 lities againlt Ravenna. Manetti afferts that he was unable to procure a 
 public audience at Venice, and returned to Ravenna by land, from his 
 apprehenfions of the Venetian fleet; when the fatigue of his journey, and 
 the mortification of failing in his attempt to preferve his generous 
 patron from the impending danger, threw him into a fever, which ter- 
 minated in death on the 14th of September 1321. He died, however, 
 
 in
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 169 
 
 in the palace of his friend, and the affedtionate Guido paid the moll ten- 
 der regard to his memory. This magnificent patron, fays Boccacio, 
 commanded the body to be adorned with poetical ornamer^ts, and, after 
 being carried on a bier through the ftreets of Ravenna by the moft illuf- 
 trious citizens, to be depofited in a marble coffin. He pronounced him- 
 felf the funeral oration, and expreffed his defign of eredling a fplendid 
 monument in honour of the deceafed : a defign which his fubfequent 
 misfortunes rendered him unable to accomplifh. At his requeft, many 
 epitaphs were written on the Poet : the bell: of them, fays Boccacio, 
 by Giovanni del Virgilio of Bologna, a famous author of that time, and 
 the intimate friend of Dante. Boccacio then cites a few Latin verfes, 
 not worth tranfcribing, fix of which are quoted by Bayle as the com- 
 pofition of Dante himfelf, on the authority of Paul Jovius. In 1483 
 Bernardo Bembo, the father of the celebrated Cardinal, raifed a hand- 
 fome monument over the neglected allies of the Poet, with the follov/inc 
 infcription : 
 
 Exigua tumuli Danthes hie forte iacebas 
 
 Squallenti nuUi cognita paene fitu ; 
 At nunc marmoreo fubnixus conderis arcu, 
 
 Omnibus et cultu fplendidiore nites : 
 Nimirum Bembus, Mulis incenfus Etrufcis, 
 
 Hoc tibi, quern in primis hx coluere, dedit. 
 
 Before this period the Florentines had vainly endeavoured to obtain the 
 bones of their great Poet from the city of Ravenna. In the age of 
 Leo the Xth they made a fecond attempt, by a folemn application to the 
 Pope, for that purpofe ; and the great Michael Angelo, an enthufiaftic 
 admirer of Dante, very liberally offered to execute a magnificent mo- 
 nument to the Poet. The hopes of the Florentines were again unfuc- 
 cefsful. The particulars of their fingular petition may be found in the 
 notes to Condivi's Life of Michael Angelo. 
 
 The perfon and manners of Dante are thus reprefented by the defcrip- 
 
 tive pen of Boccacio : — ** Fu adunque queflo noftro Poeta di Mezzana 
 
 ftatura ; e poiche alia matura eta fu pervenuto, ando alquanto gravetto, 
 
 cd era il fuo andar grave, e manfueto, di oneftiffimi panni fempre vcftito, 
 
 - % ^ in
 
 ijo N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 in quello abito, che era alia fua matura eta convenevole ; il fuo volto fu 
 lungo, il nalb aquilino, gli occhi anzi groffi, che piccioli, le mafcelle 
 grandi, e dal labbro di fotto, era quel di fopra avanzato ; il colore era 
 bruno, i capelli, e la barba fpefli neri e crefpi, e fempre nella faccia ma- 
 linconico e penfofo— — Ne coflumi publici e domeflici mirabilmente 
 fu compofto e ordinato ; piii che niuno altro cortefe e civile ^ nel cibo 
 
 e nel 
 
 A GUIDO CAVALCANTL 
 
 Guldo, vorrel, che tu, e Lappo, ed io, 
 Foffimo preli per incantamento, 
 E meffi ad un vaffel, ch'ad ogni venta 
 Per mare andafTe a voler voftro e mio ;. 
 
 Sicche fortuna^ od altro tempo rio,. 
 Non ci potefTe dare impedimento : 
 Anzi vivendo fempre in noi talento 
 Di ftare infieme crefceiTe '1 difio. 
 
 E monna Vanna, e monna Bice poi. 
 Con .quella lb il numer delle trenta. 
 Con noi ponefTe il buono incantatore r 
 
 E quivi ragionar fempre d' amore : 
 E ciafcuna di lor fofle contenta, 
 Siccome io credo che fariamo noi. 
 
 Theie lively verfes were evidently v^ritten before the Poet loll the 
 objedt of his earliell attachment, as Ihe is mentioned by the name of 
 Bice. At w^hat time, and in what place, he executed the great and lin- 
 gular work which has rendered him immortal, his numerous Commen- 
 tators feem unable to det-ermine. Boccacio alTerts, that he began it in 
 his thirty-fifth year, and had finiOied feven Cantos of his Inferno before 
 his exile j that in the plunder of his houfe, on that event, the begin- 
 
 5 «i«g
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. ,7^ 
 
 c nd poto fu modeftiffimo. Though Dante is defcribed as much 
 
 inclined to melancholy, and his genius particularly delighted in the 
 gloomy and fublime, yet in his early period of life he feems to have 
 pofTefTed all the lighter graces of fprightly compofition, as appears from 
 the following airy and fportive fonnet : 
 
 IMITATION. 
 
 Henry ! I wifh th t you, and Charles, and I, 
 By fome fweet fpell within a bark were plac'd, 
 A gallant bark with magic virtue grac'd. 
 Swift at our will with every wind to fly : 
 
 So that no changes of the fh if ting fky. 
 No ftormy terrors of the watery wafle. 
 Might bar our courfe, but heighten ftill our taftc 
 Of fprightly joy, and of our focial tie ; 
 
 Then, that my Lucy, Lucy fair and free. 
 
 With thofe foft nymphs on whom your fouls are bent. 
 The kind magician might to us convey. 
 
 To talk of love throughout the live-long day ; 
 And that each fair might be as well content 
 As I in truth believe our hearts would be. 
 
 ning of his poem was fortunately prefer\'ed, but remained for fome time 
 neglected, till its merit being accidentally difcovered by an intelligent 
 Poet named Dino, it was fent to the Marquis Maroello Malefpina, an 
 Italian nobleman, by whom Dante was then protected. The Marquis 
 reftored thefe loft papers to the Poet, and intreated him to proceed in a 
 work which opened in fo promifing a manner. To this incident we are 
 probably indebted for the poem of Dante, which he muft have continued 
 
 Z 2 under
 
 172 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 under all the diladvantages of an unfortunate and agitated life. It does 
 not appear at what time he completed it ; perhaps before he quitted Ve- 
 rona, as he dedicated the Paradife to his Veronefe patron. The Critics 
 
 have varioully accounted for his having called his poem Comedia. He 
 gave it that title, fiid one of his fons, becaufe it opens with diflrefs, and 
 clofes with felicity. The very high eflimation in which this production 
 was held by his country, appears from a lingular inilitution. The re- 
 public of Florence, in the year 1373, affigned a public ftipend to a per- 
 fon appointed to read lectures on the poem of Dante : Boccacio was the 
 firft perfon engaged in this office ; but his death happening in two years 
 after his appointment, his Comment extended only to the feventeen firft 
 Cantos of the Inferno. The critical dillertations that have been written 
 on Dante are almoft as numerous as thofe to which Homer has given 
 birth : the Italitin, like the Grecian Bard, has been the fubjed: of the 
 higheft panegyric, and of the grofTeft invediive. Voltaire has fpoken 
 of him with that precipitate vivacity, which fo frequently led that 
 lively Frenchman to infult the reputation of the noblefl writers. In one 
 of his entertaining letters, he fays to an Italian Abbe, ** Je fais grand 
 cas du courage, avec lequel vous avez ofe dire que Dante etoit un fou, et 
 
 fon ouvrage un monilre — Le Dante pourra entrer dans les biblio- 
 
 theques des curieux, mais il ne fera jamais lu.*' But more temperate and 
 candid Critics have not been wanting to difplay the merits of this origi- 
 nal Poet. Mr. Warton has introduced into his laffc volume on Englifh 
 Poetry, a judicious and fpirited fummary of Dante's performance. We 
 have feveral verfions of the celebrated ftory of Ugolino ; but I believe 
 no entire Canto of Dante has hitherto appeared in our language, though 
 his whole work has been tranfiated into French, Spaniih, and Latin 
 yerfe. The three Cantos which follow, were tranflated a few years ago> 
 to oblige a particular friend. The Author has lince been folicited to 
 execute an entire tranflation of Dante ; but the extreme inequality of 
 this Poet would render fuch a work a very laborious undertaking, and it 
 appears very doubtful how far fuch a verfion would intereft our country. 
 Perhaps the reception of thefc Cantos may difcover to the Tranllator 
 the fentiments of the public. At all events, he flatters himfelf that 
 the enfuing portion of a celebrated poem may afford fome pleafure from 
 its novelty, as he has endeavoured to give the Englifh reader an idea of 
 
 Dante's 
 
 i
 
 THIRD EPISTLE, lyx 
 
 Dante's peculiar manner, by adopting his triple rhyme -, and he does not 
 recollect that this mode of verfification has ever appeared before in our 
 language ; it has obliged him of courfe to make the number of trani- 
 lated lines correfpond exactly with thofe of the original. The diffi- 
 culties attending this metre will fufficiently fhew themfelves, and obtain 
 fome degree of indulgence from the intelligent and candid reader. 
 
 DELL
 
 '74 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 DELL' INFERNO. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 NEL mezzo del cammin di noftra vrta 
 Mi ritrovai per una felva ofcura, 
 Che la diritta via era fmarrita : 
 
 E quanto a dir qual era, e cofa dura, 
 Quefta felva felvaggia ed afpra e forte, 
 Che ncl penfier rinnuova la paura. 
 
 Tanto e amara, che poco e piu morte : 
 Ma per trattar del ben, ch'i vi trovai, 
 Diro deir altre cofe, ch'i v'ho fcorte. 
 
 I non fo ben ridir, com'i v'entrai j 
 
 Tant'era pien di fonno in fu quel punto, 
 Che la verace via abbandonai. 
 
 Ma po' ch'i fui al pie d'un colle giunto. 
 La ove terminava quella valle, 
 Che m'avea di paura il cor compunto ; 
 
 Guarda'in alto, e vidi le fue fpalle 
 Veftite gia de' raggi del pianeta, 
 Che mena drittoaltrui per ogni calle. 
 
 Allor fu la paura un poco queta, 
 Che nel lago del cor m'era durata. 
 La notte, ch'i paflai con tanta pieta. 
 
 E come quei, che con lena affannata 
 Ufcito fuor del pelago alia riva. 
 Si volge all'aqua perigliofa, e guata ; 
 
 vCofi I'animo mio, ch'ancor fuggiva. 
 Si vols' a retro a rimirar lo paflb, 
 Che non lafcio giammai perfona viva.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 175 
 
 THE INFERNO OF DANTE. 
 
 C A N T O I. 
 
 IN the mid ieafon of this mortal ftrife, 
 I found myfelf within a gloomy grove. 
 
 Far wandering from the ways of perfe<5t life : 
 The place I know not, where I chanc'd to rove , 
 
 It was a wood fo wild, it wounds me fore 
 
 But to remember with what ills I ftrove : 
 Such ftill my dread, that death is little more. 
 
 But I will tell the good which there I found. 
 
 High things 'twas there my fortune to explore : 
 Yet how I enter'd on that fecret ground 
 
 I know not to explain ; fo much in fleep 
 
 My mortal fenfes at that hour were drawn'ci^ 
 But when I reach'd the bottom of a fteep. 
 
 That rofe to terminate the drearv vale. 
 
 Which made cold terrors thro' my bofom creep, 
 I look'd on high, where breath'd a purer gale. 
 
 And faw the fummit gliften with that ray 
 
 Which leads the wand'rer iafe o'er hill and dale. 
 This foon began to chafe thofe fears away. 
 
 Which held my ftruggling fpirit bound fo fail 
 
 During that night of darknefs and difmay : 
 And, as th' exhaufted wretch,, by fortune cafb 
 
 Safe from the ftormy deep upon the iliore. 
 
 Turns to furvey the perils he has pafl. 
 So turn'd my foul, ere yet its dread was o'er. 
 
 Back to contemplate that myfterious llrait 
 
 Where living mortal never pail before. 
 
 Arifing-
 
 176 NOT E S T O T H E 
 
 Poi ch'ebbi ripofato il corpo laiTo, 
 
 Riprefi via per la piaggia deferta, 
 
 Si che '1 pie fermo fempre era '1 piu balTo. 
 Ed ecco, qiiafi al cominciar dell' erta, 
 
 Una lonza leggiera e prefta molto, 
 
 Che di pel maculate era coperta. 
 E non mi fi partia dinanzi al vol to ; 
 
 Anz' impediva tanto '1 mio cammino, 
 
 Ch'i fu per ritornar piu volte volto. 
 Temp' era dal principio del mattino, 
 
 E '1 fol montava rn fu con quelle ftelle, 
 
 Ch' eran con lui, quando I'amor divino 
 MolTe da prima quelle cofe belle 
 
 Si ch'a bene fperar m'era cagione 
 
 Di quella fera la gaietta pelle, 
 L'ora del tempo, e la dolce ftagione: 
 
 Ma non fi, che paura non mi defle 
 
 La vifta, che m'apparve d'un leone. 
 Quefli parea, che contra me venefle 
 
 Con la teft'alta, e con rabbiofa fame. 
 
 Si che parea, che I'aer ne temeffe : 
 Ed una lupa, che di tutte brame 
 
 Sembiava carca con la fua magrezza, 
 
 E molte genti fe' gia viver grame. 
 Quella mi porfe tanto di gravezza 
 
 Con la paura, ch'ufcia di fua vifta, 
 
 Ch'i perde' la fperanza dell' altezza. 
 E quale e quel, che volentieri acquifta, 
 
 E gingne '1 tempo, che perder lo face, 
 
 Che 'n tutt' i fuoi penfier piange, e s'attrifta^ 
 Tal me fece la beftia fenza pace, 
 
 Che venendomi 'ncontro, a poco a poco 
 
 Mi ripingeva la, dove '1 fol tace. 
 Mentre ch'i rovinava in bafib loco, 
 
 Dinanzi gli occhi mi fi fu offerto 
 
 Chi per lungo filenzjo parea fioco. 
 
 01 Quand'i
 
 ^17 
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 Arifing foon from this repofe elate. 
 
 Up the rough fleep my journey I begin. 
 
 My lower foot fuftaining all my weight. 
 Here, while my toilfome way I flowly win. 
 
 Behold a nimble Panther fprings to fight ! 
 
 And beauteous fpots adorn his motley fkin : 
 He at my prefence fhew'd no figns of fright. 
 
 But rather llrove to bar my doubtful way ; 
 
 I often turn'd, and oft refolv'd on flight. 
 'Twas now the chearful hour of rifmg day ; 
 
 The fun advanc'd in that propitious fign 
 
 Which iirfl beheld his radiant beams difplay 
 Creation's charms, the work of love divine ! 
 
 So that I nov/ was rais'd to hope fublime. 
 
 By thefe bright omens of a fate benign. 
 The beauteous Beaft and the fweet hour of prime. 
 
 But foon I loll that hope ; and ihook yet more 
 
 To fee a Lion in this lonely clime : 
 With open jaws, athiril for human gore. 
 
 He rufli'd towards me in his hungry ire j 
 
 Air feem'd to tremble at his favage roar. 
 With him, enflam'd with every fierce defire, 
 
 A famifh'd She-wolf, like a fpeftre, came j 
 
 Beneath whofe gripe fliall many a wretch expire. 
 Such fad oppreffion feiz'd my linking frame. 
 
 Such horror at thefe ftrange tremendous fights. 
 
 My hopes to climb the hill no longer aim ; 
 But, as the wretch whom lucre's luft incites. 
 
 In the curft hour which fcatters all his wealth. 
 
 Sinks in deep forrow, dead to all delights. 
 So was I robb'd of all my fpirit's health, 
 
 And to the quarter where the fun grov/s mute. 
 
 Driven by this Beaft, who crept on me by ftealth. 
 While I retreated from her dread purfuit, 
 
 A manly figure my glad eyes furvey'd, • 
 
 Whofe voice was like the whifper of a lute. 
 
 A n Soon
 
 17a NOTES TO THE 
 
 Quando i' vidi coftui nel gran diferto ; 
 Miferere di me gridai a lui, 
 Qual che tu lii, od ombra, od uomo certo. 
 
 Rifpofemi : non uomo, uomo gia fui, 
 E li parent! miei furon Lombard!^ 
 E Mantovani, per patria amendui. 
 
 Nacqui fub Julio, ancorche foiTe tardi, 
 E vilTi a Roma, fotto '1 buono Agufto, 
 Al tempo degli Dei falli e bugiardi. 
 
 Poeta fui, e cantai di quel giufho 
 
 Figlioul d'Anchife, che venne da Troja, 
 Poiche '1 fuperbo Ilion fu combufto. 
 
 Ma tu, perche ritorni a tanta noja ? 
 Perche non fali il dilettofo monte, 
 Ch'e principio e cagion di tutta gioja ? 
 
 Or fe' tu quel Virgilio, e quella fonte, 
 Che fpande di parlar si largo fiume ? 
 Rifpofi lui, con vergognoia fronte. 
 
 Oh degli altri poeti onore e lume, 
 
 Vagliami '1 lungo ftudio, el grande amorc, 
 Che m'han fatto cercar lo tuo volume. 
 
 Tu fe' lo mio maeflro, e'l mio autore : 
 Tu fe' folo colui, da cu'io tolli 
 Lo hello flile, che m'ha fatto onore. 
 
 Vedi la bellia, per cu'io mi volfi : 
 Ajutami da lei, famofo faggio, 
 Ch'ella mi fa tremar le vene e i polfi. 
 
 A te convien tenere altro viaggio, 
 Rifpofe, poiche lagrimar mi vide, 
 Se vuoi campar d'efto luogo felvaggio : 
 
 Che quefta beftia, per la qual tu gride, 
 Non lafcia altrui palTar per la fua via,. 
 Ma tanto lo 'mpedifce, che I'uccide l 
 
 Ed ha natura si malvagia e ria, 
 
 Che mai non empie ia bramofa voglia, 
 E^ dopo '1 pailo, ha piu fame^ che pria. 
 
 Moltl
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 Soon zs I faw him in this dreary glade. 
 Take pity on me, to this form I cry'd. 
 Be thou fubHantial man, or fleeting fliade !— . 
 A man I was (the gracious form reply 'd) 
 
 And both my parents were of Lombard race ; 
 They in their native Mantua liv'd and dy'd : 
 I liv'd at Rome, rich in a monarch's grace. 
 Beneath the good Auguflus' letter'd reign. 
 While fabled Gods were ferv'd with worfliip bafe. 
 A Bard I was : the fubjecl of my ftrain 
 
 That juft and pious Chief who fail'd from Troy, 
 Sinking in allies on the fanguine plain. 
 But thou, whom thefe portentous fights annoy. 
 Why doft thou turn ? why not afcend the mount. 
 Source of all good, and fummit of all joy !— 
 Art thou that Virgil ? thou ! that copious fount 
 Of richeft eloquence, fo clear, fo bright ? 
 I anfwer'd, blulhing at his kind account ; 
 O thou ! of Poets the pure guide and light ! 
 Now let me profit by that fond efteem 
 Which kept thy fong for ever in my fight ! 
 Thou art my Mailer ! thou my Bard fuprcme. 
 From whom alone my fond ambition drew 
 That purer ftyle which I my glory deem ! 
 O ! from this Beaft, fo hideous to the view. 
 
 Save me ! O fave me ! thou much-honour'd Sao-e ' 
 For growing terrors all my power fubdue. — 
 A different road mufl lead thee from her rage, 
 (He faid, obfervant of my flarting tears) 
 And from this wild thy fpirit difengao-e ; 
 For that terrific Beafl, which caus'd thy fears. 
 Worries each wretch that in her road flie fpies. 
 Till death at length, his fole relief, appears. 
 So keen her nature, Heep ne'er feals her eyes ; 
 Her ravenous hunger no repafl can fate ; 
 Food only ferves to make its fury rife. 
 
 A a 2 She 
 
 179
 
 i8o N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 Moltl fon gli animali, a cui s'ammoglia ; 
 E piu iliranno ancora, infin che '1 veltro 
 Vena, che la fara morir di doglia, 
 
 Quefti non cibera terra, ne peltro. 
 Ma ilipienza, e amore, e virtute, 
 E fua nazion fara tra Feltro e Feltro : 
 
 Di queir umile Italia fia falute. 
 
 Per cui morio la Vergine Cammilla, 
 Eurialo, e Turno, e Nifo di ferute : 
 
 Quefli la caccera per ogni villa. 
 
 Fin che I'avra rimefla nello 'nferno. 
 La onde 'nvidia prima dipartilla. 
 
 Ond' io, per lo tuo me', penfo e difcerno,, 
 Che tu mi fegui, ed io faro tua guida, 
 E trarrotti di qui, per luogo eterno, 
 
 Ov* udirai le difperate ftrida, 
 Vedrai gli antiche fpiriti dolenti, 
 Che la feconda morte ciafcun grida : 
 
 E poi vedrai color, che fon contenti 
 Nel fuoco ; perche fperan di venire, 
 Quando che {ia, alle beate genti : 
 
 Alle qua' poi fe tu vorrai falire, 
 Anima fia, a cio di me piu degna : 
 Con lei ti lafcero nel mio partire : 
 
 Che quelle 'mperador, che lafsii regna, 
 Perch' i' fu' ribellante alia fua legge, 
 Non vuol che'n fua citta per me fi vegna. 
 
 In tutte parti impera, e quivi regge : 
 Quivi e la fua cittade, e I'alto feggio : 
 O felice colui, cu' ivi elegge! 
 
 Ed io a lui : Poeta, i' ti rechieggio. 
 
 Per quello Iddio, che tu non conofcelli, 
 Acciocch' i' fugga quefto^male e peggio, 
 
 Che tu mi meni, la dov'or dicefli. 
 Si ch' i' vegga la porta di fan Pietro, 
 E color che tu fai cotanto mefli. 
 
 Allor fi molle, ed io li tenni dietro. 
 
 CANTO
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. i8i 
 
 She calls from different animals her mate ; 
 
 And long fliall flje produce an offspring bafe, 
 
 Then from a mighty vidor meet her fate. 
 
 Nor pomp nor riches iliall that vidlor grace. 
 
 But truth, and love, and all excelling worth ; 
 
 He from his refcu'd land all ill fhall chafe. 
 
 The faviour of the realm that gives him birth. 
 
 Of Italy, for whom Camilla fell. 
 
 And Turnus, fighting for his native earth. 
 
 And Ninus, with the friend he lov'd fo well. 
 
 The Beaft this vidor to that den fhall drive 
 
 Whence Envy let her loofe, her native hell ! 
 
 Now for thy good, well-pleas'd, I will contrive. 
 
 That by my aid, while I thy fleps controul. 
 
 Thou fhalt in fafety at thofe realms arrive 
 
 Where thou fhalt fee the tortur'd fpirits rolI„ 
 
 And hear each mourn his miferable fate. 
 
 Calling for death on his immortal foul. 
 
 Then fhalt thou vifit thofe, who in a flate 
 
 Of purifying fire are flill content. 
 
 And for their promis'd heaven fubmifUve wait : 
 
 If to that heaven thy happy courfe is bent, 
 
 A worthier guard will foon my place fupply ; 
 
 A purer fpirit, for thy guidance fent ! 
 
 For that Immortal Power, who rules on high, 
 
 Becaufe I ne'er his perfedt laws have known, '' 
 
 His facred prefence will to me deny. 
 
 There in the realms of light he fix'd his throne -, 
 
 There o'er the world Almighty Lord he reigns : 
 
 O bleft the fervant whom he deigns to own !-— 
 
 Poet (I anfwer^d) by thy living flrains. 
 
 And by that God, tho' not reveal'd to thee. 
 
 That I may 'fcape from thefe, and heavier pains^ 
 
 Be thou my leader, where thy way is free ! 
 
 So that my eyes St. Peter's gate may find. 
 
 And all the wonders of the deep may fee I 
 
 He led, and I attentive march'd behind. 
 
 CANTO
 
 i82 NOTES TO THE 
 
 CANTO IL 
 
 T O glorno fe n'andava, e I'aer bruno 
 
 Toglieva gli animai, che fono 'n terra. 
 Dalle fatiche loro : ed io fol' uno 
 
 M'apparecchiava a foll:ener la guerra. 
 Si del cammino, e si della pietate, 
 Che ritrarra la mente, che non erra. 
 
 O Mule, o alto 'ngegno, or m'ajutate : 
 O mente, che Icrivefti cib ch'i' vidi. 
 Qui fi parra la tua nobilitate. 
 
 Io cominciai : Poeta, che mi guidi, 
 Guarda la mia virtu, s'ell' e pofTente, 
 Prima ch' all' alto pafTo tu mi fidi, 
 
 Tu dici, che di Silvio Io parente, 
 Corrutibile ancora, ad immortale 
 Secolo ando, e fu fenlibilmente. 
 
 Pero fe I'avverfario d'ogni male 
 Cortefe fu, penfando I'alto effetto, 
 Ch' ufcir dovea di lui, e '1 chi, e '1 quale, 
 
 Non pare indegno ad uomo d'intelletto : 
 Ch' ei fu dell'alma Roma, e di fuo 'mpero, 
 Neir empireo ciel, per padre, eletto: 
 
 La quale, e'l quale (a voler dir Io vero) 
 Fur ffcabiliti, per Io loco fanto, 
 U' fiede il fuccelTor del maeo;ior Piero. 
 
 Per quefha andata, onde li dai tu vanto, 
 Intefe cofe, che furon cagione 
 Di fua vittoria, e del papale ammanto. 
 
 Andovvi poi Io vas d'elezione. 
 
 Per recarne conforto, a quella fede, 
 Ch' e principio alia via di falvazione.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 185 
 
 CANTO XL 
 
 npHE day was finking, and the dufky air 
 On all the animals of earth beftow'd 
 Refl from their labours. I alone prepare 
 To meet new toil, both from my dreary road. 
 And pious wifh to paint in worthy phrafe 
 The Unerring Mind, and his divine abode. 
 O facred Mufes ! now my genius raife ! 
 O Memory, who writeft what I faw. 
 From hence fhall fpring thy ever-during praife i 
 Kind Poet (I began, with trembling awe) 
 Mark if my foul be equal to this aim ! 
 Nor into fcenes too hard my weaknefs draw I 
 Thy Song declares, the Chief of pious fame 
 Appear'd among the blefl, retaining ftill 
 His mortal fenfes and material frame ; 
 Yet, if the great Oppofer of all ill 
 
 Shew'd grace to him, as knowing what and who 
 Should from him rife, and mighty things fulfil, 
 Moft worthy ht appear'd, in Reafon's view. 
 
 That Heaven fliould chufe him as the Roman Sire, 
 Source of that empire which fo widely grew, 
 Mark'd in its growth by the angelic choir 
 To be the feat where Sand:ity ihould reft. 
 And Peter's heirs yet raife dominion higher. 
 From his dark journey, in thy Song expreft. 
 
 He learn'd myfterious things ; from whence arole 
 Rome's early grandeur and the Papal veft. 
 To Paul, while living, heaven's high powers difclofe 
 Their fecret blifs, that he may thence receive 
 Strengthen that faith from which falvation flows. 
 
 But
 
 i84 N O T E S T O T H E V 
 
 Ma io, perche venirvi ? o chi '1 concede ? 
 lo non Enea, io non Paolo fono : 
 Me degno a cio, ne io, ne altri il crede. 
 Perche fe del venire i' m'abbandono, 
 Tenio che la venuta non fia folle : 
 Se' favio, e 'ntendi me', ch'i' noR ragiono. 
 E quale e quei, che difvuol cio ch'e' voile, 
 E per nuovi penfier cangia propofta. 
 Si che del cominciar tutto ii tolle ; 
 Tal mi fee' io' in quella ofcura cofta: 
 Perche, penfando, confumai la 'mprefa, 
 Che fuy nel cominciar, cotanto toila. 
 Se io ho ben la tua parola intefa, 
 
 Rifpofe del magnanimo quell' ombra, 
 L'anima tua e da viltate offefa : 
 La qual molte fiate I'uomo ingombra. 
 Si che d'onrata imprefa lo rivolve. 
 Come falfo veder beftia, quand' ombra. 
 Da quefta tema acciocche tu ti folve, 
 
 Dirotti, perch' i' venni, e quel, ch'io'nteli, 
 ^' Nel primo punto, che di te mi dolve. 
 
 Io era tra color, che fon fofpefi, 
 E donna mi chiamo beata e bella, 
 Tal che di comandare i' la richieli. 
 Lucevan gli occhi fuoi piu, che laftella: 
 E cominciommi a dir foave e piana. 
 Con angelica voce, in fua favella : 
 O anima cortefe Mantovana, 
 
 Di cui la fama ancor nel mondo dura, 
 E durera, quanto '1 moto lontana : 
 L'amico mio, e non della ventura, 
 Nella deferta piaggia e impedito 
 Si nel cammin, che volto e per paura : 
 E temo, che non fia^ia si fmarrito, . ' 
 
 Ch'io mi fia tardi al foccorib levata. 
 Per quel, ch' io ho di lui, nel Cielo, udito. • 
 
 3 Or
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. x8j 
 
 But how may I this high exploit atchieve ? 
 
 I'm not iEneas, nor the holy Paul : 
 
 Of this unworthy I myfelf believe : 
 If then I follow at thy friendly call, 
 
 Midway perchance my trembling foul may fink : 
 
 Wife as thou art, thou may'ft forefee my fall. 
 Now as a man who, (hudd'ring on the brink 
 
 Of fome great venture, fudden fhifts his mind. 
 
 And feels his fpirit from the peril (lirink ^ 
 So, in this fcene of doubt and darknefs join'd. 
 
 Wavering I wafted thought in wild affright. 
 
 And the firft ardour of my foul refign'd. 
 If thy faint words I underftand aright, 
 
 ( Reply 'd the mighty and magnanimous fhade) 
 
 Thofe mifts of fear have dimm'd thy mental fight. 
 Which oft the feat of human fenfe invade, 
 
 And make blind mortals from high deeds recoil. 
 
 By Terror's airy phantafies betray'd : 
 But, that fuch fears thy foul no more may foil, 
 
 I'll tell thee whence I came; at whofe requeft ; 
 
 When firft I pitied thy uncertain toil. 
 From the fufpended hoft in which I reft, 
 
 A lovely Spirit call'd me, fair as light ; 
 
 Eager I waited on her high beheft ; 
 While eyes beyond the folar radiance bright. 
 
 And with the fweetnefs of an angel's tongue, 
 
 Thus her foft words my willing aid irivitc : 
 O ever gentle fhade, from Mantua fprung ! 
 
 Whofe fame unfading on the earth fliall laft 
 
 As long as earth in ambient air is hung ; 
 My friend, whofe love all bafe defirc furpaft. 
 
 In yon drear defart finds his palfage barr'd, 
 
 And compafs'd round with terrors ftands aglaaft ; 
 And much I fear, befet with dangers hard. 
 
 He may be loft beyond all friendly reach. 
 
 And I from heaven defcend too late a guard. 
 
 B b But
 
 ,86 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Or muovi, e con la tua parola ornata, 
 
 E con cio, che ha mellieri al iuo campare, 
 L'ajuta SI, ch'i* ne fia conlblata. 
 
 I' fon Beatrice, che ti faccio andare : 
 Vegno di loco, ove tornar difio : 
 Amor mi mofTe, che mi fa parlare. 
 
 Quando faro dinanzi al fignor mio, 
 Di te mi loderb fovente a lui : 
 Tacette allora, e poi comincia' io : 
 
 O donna di virtu, fola, per cui, 
 
 L'umana fpezie eccede ogni contento 
 Da quel ciel, ch' ha minor li cerchi fuoi i 
 
 Tanto m'aggrada '1 tuo comandamento, 
 Che I'ubbidir, fe gia foile, m'e tardi : 
 Piu non t'e uopo aprirmi 1 tuo talento. 
 
 Ma dmimi la cagion, che non ti guardi 
 Dello fcender quaggiufo, in quefto centre^ 
 Dall'ampio loco, ove tornar tu ardi. 
 
 Da che tu vuoi faper cotanto addentro, 
 Dirotti brevemente, mi rifpofe, 
 Perch'i' non temo di venir qua entro,. 
 
 Temer fi dee di fole quelle cofe, 
 
 Ch' hanno potenza di fare altrui male ^ 
 Deir altre no,, che non fon paurofe. 
 
 Io fon fatta da Dio, fua merce, tale, 
 Che la voftra miferia non mi tange, 
 Ne fiamma d'efto 'ncendio non m'allale.. 
 
 Donna e gentil nel ciel, che li compiange 
 Di quefto 'mpedimento, ov' i' ti mando. 
 Si che duro giudicio lalTu frange. 
 
 Quefta chiefe Lucia in fuo dimando, 
 E dilfe : Ora abbifogna il tuo fedele 
 Di te, ed io a te Io raccomando. 
 
 Lucia nimica di ciafcun crudele 
 
 Si moffe, e venne al loco, dov'i' era, 
 Che mi fedea con I'antica Rachele : 
 
 Difle,
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 187 
 
 But go ! and with thy foft foul-foothing fpeech. 
 
 And all the aid thy wifdom may infpire. 
 
 The ways of fafety to this wanderer teach ! 
 My name is Beatrice : the heavenly quire 
 
 For this I left, tho' ever left with pain ; 
 
 But love fuggefted what I now defire. 
 When I the prefence of my lord regain. 
 
 On thee my praifes with delight fliall dwell. 
 
 So fpake this angel, in her heavenly ftrain. 
 Bright Fair, (I cry'd) who didft on earth excel 
 
 All that e'er fhone beneath the lunar fphere. 
 
 And every mind to virtuous love impel ! 
 Had I e'en now perform'd the tafk I hear. 
 
 That fwift performance I fhould think too flow : 
 
 Nor needs there more ; your gracious will is clear : 
 Yet how you venture, I would gladly know. 
 
 From thofe pure realms, to which again you fly. 
 
 So near the center of eternal woe. 
 What you require (fhe faid, in kind reply) 
 
 I briefly will explain : how thus I dare, 
 
 Unconfcious of alarm, thefe depths to try. 
 From thefe things only fprings our fearful care. 
 
 By which our haplefs friends may fuffer ill ; 
 
 But not from other -, for no fear is there. 
 Such am I form'd, by Heaven's mofl: gracious will. 
 
 That torture cannot touch my purer frame. 
 
 E'en where fierce fires his flaming region fill, 
 A gentle fpirit (Lucia is her name) 
 
 In heaven laments the hardfliips of my friend. 
 
 For whom I aflc your aid : to me flie came. 
 And kindly bade me to his woes attend : 
 
 Behold (flie faid) thy fcrvant in dillrefs ! 
 
 And I his fafety to thy care commend. 
 Lucia, the friend of all whom ills opprefs. 
 
 Me, where I fate with penfive Rachel, fought. 
 
 In heavenly contemplation's deep recefs : 
 
 B b 2 In
 
 j8S NOTES TO THE 
 
 DilTe, Beatrice, loda di Dio vera, 
 
 Che non foccorri quel, che t'amo tanto ; 
 Ch' ufcio per te della volgare fchiera? 
 
 Non odi tu la pieta del fuo pianto, 
 Non vedi tu la morte, che '1 combatte 
 Su la fiumana, ove 1 mar non ha vanto r 
 
 Al mondo non fur mai perfone ratte 
 A far lor pro, ed a fuggir lor danno. 
 Com' io, dopo cotai parole fatte, 
 
 Venni quaggiu dal mio beato fcanno, 
 Fidandomi nel tuo parlare onefto, 
 Ch' onora te, e quel, ch'udito I'hanno. 
 
 Pofcia che m'ebbe ragionato queilo, 
 Gli occhi lucenti, lagrimando, volfe : 
 Perche mi fece del venir piu prefto: 
 
 E venni a te cosi, com' elk volfe : 
 Dinanzi a quella fiera ti levai, 
 Che del bel monte il corto andar ti tolfe. 
 
 Dunque che e ? perche, perche riftai ? 
 Perche tanta vilta nel cuore allette ? 
 Perche ardire e franchezza non hai ? 
 
 Pofcia che tai tre donne benedette 
 Curan di te, nella corte del Cielo, 
 E'l mio parlar tanto ben t'impromette ? 
 
 Quale i fioretti, dal notturno gielo, 
 
 Chinati e chiufi, poi che'l fbl gl'imbianca, 
 Si drizzan tutti aperti in loro ftelo, 
 
 Tal mi fee' io, di mia virtute ilanca : 
 E tanto buono ardire al cuor mi corfe, 
 Ch'i' cominciai, come perfona franca : 
 
 O pietofa colei, che mi foccorfe, 
 E tu cortefe,, ch'ubbidifti tofto 
 AUe vere parole, che ti porfe ! 
 
 Tu m'hai con defiderio il cuor difpofto 
 Sj al venir, con le parole tue, 
 Ch'i' fon tomato nel primo propoilo. 
 
 Or
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 189 
 
 In mercy's name (flie cry'd) thus lofl: in thought, 
 Seeft thou not him who held thy charms fo dear. 
 
 Whom Love to rife above the vulgar taught ? 
 And doft thou not his lamentation hear, 
 
 Nor fee the horror, which his ftrength impairs. 
 
 On yon wide torrent, with no haven near ? 
 Never was mind, intent on worldly cares. 
 
 So eager wealth to gain, or lofs to fhun. 
 
 As, when acquainted v»'ith thefe deadly fnares, 
 I fiew from the blefl confines of the fun, 
 
 Trufling that eloquence, which to thy name 
 
 And to thy follovv^ers fuch praife has won. 
 She having thus explain'd her gracious aim, 
 
 Turn'd her bright eyes, which tears of pity fill : 
 
 x'Vnd hence more fwift to thy relief I came ; 
 And, pleas'd to execute her heavenly will, 
 
 I iiiv'd thee from the fury of that Beaft, 
 
 Which barr'd thy journey up the brighter hill. 
 Why then, O why has all thy ardour ceas'd ? 
 
 And whence this faintnefs in thy feeble mind ? 
 
 Why has its nobk energy decreas'd. 
 When thefe pure Spirits, for thy good combin'd. 
 
 Watch o'er thy fafety in their heavenly feat. 
 
 And I reveal the favour thou fhalt find ? — 
 As tender flowers, reviv'd by folar heat. 
 
 That thro' the chilling night have funk deprefi;. 
 
 Rife and unfold, the welcome ray to meet j 
 So rofe my fpirit, of new life pofiefl -, 
 
 And, my warm heart on high atchievements bent, 
 
 I thus my animating guide addreft : 
 Gracious that Spirit who thy fuccour fent ! 
 
 And friendly thou, who freely haft difplay'd 
 
 Thy zeal to execute her kind intent ! 
 Thy foothing words have to my foul convey'd. 
 
 Such keen defire to thofc bright realms to foar, 
 
 I fcorn the terror that my flep delay'd. 
 
 Now
 
 190 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Or va, cli'un fol volere e d'amendue : 
 Tu duca, tu fignore, e tu maeftro: 
 Cosi li difli : e poiche moflb fue, 
 
 Entrai per lo cammino alto e filveftro. 
 
 * P 
 
 CANTO IIL 
 
 lER me fi va nella citta dolente: 
 Per me fi va nell' eterno dolore : 
 
 Per me fi va tra la perduta gente. 
 Giuflizia mofie '1 mio alto fattore : 
 
 Fecemi la divina poteflate. 
 
 La Ibmma fapienzia, e '1 primo amore. 
 Dinanzi a me non fur cofe create, 
 
 Se non eterne, ed io eterno duro : 
 
 Lalciate ogni fperanza, voi che 'ntrate." 
 Quefle parole di colore ofcuro 
 
 Vid' io fcritte al fommo d'una porta : 
 
 Perch'io, Maeftro, il fenfo lor m'e duro. 
 Ed egli a me, come perfona accorta. 
 
 Qui li convien lafciare ogni fofpetto : 
 
 Ogni vilta convien, che qui fia morta. 
 Noi fern venuti d luogo, ov' i' t'ho detto, 
 
 Che tu vedrai le genti dolorofe, 
 
 Ch'hanno perduto '1 ben dello'ntelletto. 
 B poiche la fua mano alia mla poie. 
 
 Con licto volto, ond'i' mi confortai. 
 
 Mi mile dentro alle fegrete cofe. 
 Quivi fofpiri, pianti, e alti gud 
 
 Rifonavan, per I'aer fenza ftelle, 
 
 Perch'io al cominciar, ne lagrimai. 
 Diverfe lingue, orribili favelle. 
 
 Parole di dolore, accenti d'ira, 
 
 Voci alte e fioche, e fuon di man con elle 
 
 ^ Facevano
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 191 
 
 Now lead ! — thy pleafure I difpute no more. 
 
 My lord, my mafter thou ! and thou my guard !— 
 I ended here -, and, while he march'd before. 
 
 The gloomy road I enter'd, deep and hard. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 *' T^ H R O* me you pafs to Mourning's dark domain ; 
 Thro' me to fcenes where Grief muft ever pine ; 
 
 Thro' me, to Mifery's devoted train. 
 Juflice and power in my Great Founder join. 
 
 And love and wifdom all his fabrics rear -, 
 
 Wifdom above controul, and love divine ! 
 Before me. Nature fiw no works appear. 
 
 Save works eternal : fuch was I ordain'd. 
 
 Quit every hope, all ye who enter here !" 
 Thefe characters, where mifty darknefs reign'd. 
 
 High o'er a lofty gate I faw engrav'd. 
 
 Ah Sire ! (faid I) hard things are here contaln'd. 
 He, fapient Guide ! my farther queftion fav'd. 
 
 With fplrit anfwerlng, ** Here all doubt refign. 
 
 All weak diflrufl, and every thought deprav'd ; 
 At length we've reach'd that gloomy drear confine. 
 
 Where, as I fiid, thou'lt fee the mournful race 
 
 For ever robb'd of Reafon's light benign." 
 Then, ftretching forth his hand with gentle grace. 
 
 From whence new comfort through my bofom flows,, 
 
 Fie led me in to that myfterious place. 
 There fighs, and waillngs, and fcvereft woes, 
 
 Deeply refounded through the ftarlefs air ; 
 
 And as I firfl advanc'd, my fears arofe. 
 Each different cry, the murmuring notes of care. 
 
 Accents of mifery, and words of ire. 
 
 With all the founds of difcord and defpair.
 
 igz 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Faccvano un tumulto, il qual s'aggira 
 
 Sempre 'n quell' aria, fenza tempo, tinta. 
 
 Come la rena quando '1 turbo fpira. 
 Ed io, ch' avea d'error la tella cinta, 
 
 DiHi, Maeflro, che e quel, ch' i' odo ? 
 
 E che gent' e, che par nel duol si vinta ? 
 Ed egli a me: Quelto mifero modo 
 
 Tengon 1' anime trifle di coloro, 
 
 Che viffer fanza infamia, e fanza lodo. 
 Mifchiate fono a quel cattivo coro 
 
 Degli angeli, che non furon ribelli, 
 
 Ne fur fedeli a Dio, ma per fe foro. 
 Cacciarli i ciel, per non efler men belli : 
 
 Ne lo profondo inferno gli riceve, 
 
 Ch'alcuna gloria i rei avrebber d'elli. 
 Ed io : Maeflro, che e tanto greve 
 
 A lor, che lamentar gli fa si forte ? 
 
 Rifpofe : Dicerolti molto breve. 
 Quefti non hanno fperaiiza di morte : 
 
 E la lor cieca vita e tanto balla, 
 
 Che 'nvidiofi fon d'ogni altra forte. 
 Fama di loro il mondo effer non lalfa : 
 
 Mifericordia e giuflizia gli fdegna. 
 
 Non ragioniam di lor, ma guarda, e pafTa. 
 Ed io, che riguardai, vidi una infegna, 
 
 Che, girando, correva tanto ratta, 
 
 Che d'ogni pofa mi pareva indegna : 
 E dietro le venia si lunga tratta 
 
 Di gente, ch'i' non avrei mai creduto, 
 
 Che morte tanta n' avelle disfatta. 
 Pofcia ch' io v'ebbi alcun riconofciuto, 
 
 Guardai, e vidi I'ombra di colui, 
 
 Che fece, per viltate, il gran rifiuto. 
 Incontanente intefe, e certo fui, 
 
 Che quefl' era la fetta de' cattivi 
 
 A Dio fpiacenti, ed a' nemici fui. 
 
 6 . Quefli
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 193 
 
 To form fuch tumult in this {cent confpire. 
 
 As flies for ever round the gloomy wafte, 
 
 Like fand when quicken'd by the whirlwind's fire, 
 I then (my mind with error ftill difgrac'd) 
 
 Exclaim'd — O Sire ! what may this trouble mean r 
 
 What forms are thefe, by forrow fo debas'd ? — 
 He foon reply'd — Behold, thefe bounds between. 
 
 All who without or infamy or fame 
 
 Clos'd the blank bufmefs of their mortal fcene ! 
 They join thofe angels, of ignoble name. 
 
 Who not rebell'd, yet were not faithful found; 
 
 Without attachment ! felf alone their aim ! 
 Heaven fhuts them out from its unfuUied bound ; 
 
 And Hell refufes to admit this train. 
 
 Left e'en the damn'd o'er thefe their triumph found.—- 
 
 Sire ! (faid I) whence then this grievous pain. 
 That on our ears their lamentations grate ? — 
 This (he reply'd) I will in brief explain : 
 
 Thefe have no hope that death may mend their fate ; 
 
 And their blind days form fo confus'd a mafs. 
 
 They pine with envy of each other's ftate : 
 From earth their name has perifli'd, like the grafs ; 
 
 E'en Mercy views them with a fcornful eye. 
 
 We'll fpeak of them no more : Behold ! and pafs ! •— 
 
 1 look'd, and faw a banner rais'd on high. 
 
 That whirl'd, unconfcious of a moment's ftand. 
 
 With rapid circles in the troubled fky : 
 Behind it, driven by Fate's fupreme command. 
 
 Came fuch a hoft ! I ne'er could have believ'd 
 
 Death had collected fo complete a band. 
 When now I had the forms of all perceiv'd, 
 
 I faw the fhade of that ignoble prieft. 
 
 Of fovereign power by indolence bercav'd. 
 Inftant I knew, from every doubt releas'd, 
 
 Thefe were the bafe, the mifcreated crew 
 
 To whom the hate of God had never ceas'd. 
 
 C c Vile
 
 194 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Quefti fciaurati, che mai non fur vivi, 
 
 Erano ignudi, e iHmolati molto 
 
 Da mofconi, e da yefpe, ch'erano ivi. 
 Elle rigavan lor di fangue il volto, 
 
 Che mifchiato di lagrime, a' lor piedi. 
 
 Da faftidiofi vermi era ricolto. 
 E poi, ch'a riguardare oltre mi diedi, 
 
 Vidi gente alia riva d'un gran fiume • 
 
 Perch' i' difTi : Maeftro, or mi concedi, 
 Ch'io fappia, quali fono, e qual coftume 
 
 Le fa parer di trapaflar si pronte, 
 
 Com'io difcerno per lo fioco lumev 
 Ed egli a me : Le cofe ti fien conte, 
 
 Qaando noi fermerem li noftri pafli 
 
 Su la trifta riviera d'Acheronte. 
 Allor con gli occhi vergognofi e baffi 
 
 Temendq, no '1 mio dir gli fufle grave^ 
 
 Infino al fiume di parlar mi traffi. 
 Ed ecco verfo noi venir, per nave, 
 
 Un vecchio bianco, per antico pelo, 
 
 Gridando, Guai a voi anime prave : 
 Non ilperate mai veder lo cielo : 
 
 r vegno, per menarvi all' altra riva 
 
 Nelle tenebre eterne, in caldo e'n gielo : 
 E tu, che fe' colli, anima viva, 
 
 Partiti da cotefli, che fon morti : 
 
 Ma poi ch' e' vide, ch' i' non mi partiva,. 
 Difie : Per altre vie, per altri porti 
 
 Verrai a piaggia, non qui, per paffare : 
 
 Piu lievc Icgno convien, che ti porti. 
 E'l duca a lui : Caron, non ti crucciare : 
 
 Vuohi cosi cola, dove fi puote 
 
 Cio che fi vuole, e piij non dimandare. 
 Quinci fur quete le lanofe gote 
 
 Al nocchier della livida palude, 
 
 Che 'ntorno agli occhi ave' di fiamme ruote. 
 
 Ml
 
 195 
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 Vile forms ! ne'er honor'd with exifteiice true ! 
 
 Naked they march'd, and forely were they flung 
 
 By wafps and hornets, that around them flew ; 
 Thefe the black blood from their gall'd faces wrung; 
 
 Blood mixt with tears, that, trickling to their feet. 
 
 Fed the faftidious worms which round them clung. 
 When now I farther pierc'd the dark retreat. 
 
 Numbers I faw befide a mighty ftream : 
 
 Sudden I cry'd— Now, Sire, let me entreat 
 To know what forms in diftant profped: feem 
 
 To pafs fo fwiftly o'er a flood fo wide. 
 
 As I difcern by this imperfedl gleam ? — 
 That {halt thou know (return'd my gracious Guide) 
 
 When the near refpite from our toil we reach. 
 
 On fullen Acheron's infernal tide. — 
 With downcafl eyes, that pardon now befeech. 
 
 And hoping fllence may that pardon win. 
 
 E'en to the river I abfl:ain'd from fpeech. 
 And lo ! towards us, with a fhrivell'd fl<.in, 
 
 A hoary boatman fl:eers his crazy bark. 
 
 Exclaiming, " Woe to all ye fons of fln ! 
 Hope not for heaven, nor light's celeflial fpark \ 
 
 I come to waft you to a different lot ; 
 
 To Torture's realm, with endlels horror dark : 
 And thou, who living view'ft this facred fpot, 
 
 Hafle to depart from thefe, for thefe are dead !** 
 
 But when he faw that I departed not. 
 In wrath he cry'd, ** Thro' other paflTes led. 
 
 Not here, fhalt thou attempt the farther fliore ; 
 
 But in a bark to bear thy firmer tread." — 
 O Charon, faid my Guide, thy flrife give o'er ^ 
 
 For thus 'tis will'd in that fuperior fccne 
 
 Where will is power. Seek thou to know no more !— 
 Now grew the bearded vifage more ferene 
 
 Of the ftern boatman on the livid lake, 
 
 Whofe eyes fo lately glar'd with anger keen : 
 
 C c 2 But
 
 196 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Ma queir anime, ch'eran lafle e nude, 
 Cangiar colore, e dibattero i denti, 
 Ratto che 'nteler le parole crude. 
 
 Beftemmiavano Iddio, e i lor parenti, 
 
 L'umana Ipezie, il luogo, il tempo, e'l feme, 
 Di lor lemenza, e di lor nafcimenti. 
 
 Poi fi ritraffer tutte quante infieme 
 Forte piangendo, alia riva malvagia, 
 Ch'attende ciafcun'uom, che Dio non teme. 
 
 Caron dimonio, con occhi di bragia, 
 Loro accennando, tutte le raccoglie : 
 Batte col remo, qualunque s'adagia. 
 
 Come d' Autunno fi levan le foglie, 
 L' una appreflb dell' altra, infin che '1 ramo 
 Rende alia terra tutte le fue fpoglie ; 
 
 Similemente il mal feme d' Adamo : 
 Gittanli di quel lito ad una ad una. 
 Per cenni, com' augel, per fuo richiamo, 
 
 Cosi fen van no fu per I'onda bruna, 
 E avanti che fien di la difcefe, 
 Anche di qua nova fchiera s'aduna. 
 
 Figliuol mio, diffe il maeflro cortefe, 
 Quclli, che muojon nell' ira di Dio, 
 Tutti convegnon qui d' ogni paefe : 
 
 E pronti fono al trapaflar del rio, 
 Che la divina giuftizia gli fprona. 
 Si che la tenia ii volge in difio. 
 
 Quinci non pafTa mai anima buona : 
 E pcro fe Caron di te fi lagna, 
 Ben puoi faper omai, che'l fuo dir fuona. 
 
 Finito quefto la buja campagna 
 Tremo si forte, che dello fpavento 
 La mente di fudorc ancor mi bagna. 
 
 La terra lagrimofa diede vento, 
 Che balenb una luce vermiglia. 
 La qual mi vinfe ciafcun fentimento : 
 
 E caddi, come Tuom, cai fonno piglia.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 197 
 
 But all the naked fhades began to quake ; 
 
 Their fhuddering figures grew more pale than earth. 
 
 Soon as they heard the cruel words he fpake: 
 
 God they blafphem'd, their parents' injur'd worth. 
 
 And all mankind ; the place, the hour, that faw 
 
 Their firll formation, and their future birth. 
 
 Then were they driven, by Fate*s refiftlefs law. 
 
 Weeping, to that fad fcene prepar'd for all 
 
 Vv^ho fear not God with pure devotion's awe. 
 
 Charon, with eyes of fire and words of gall, 
 
 Colleils his crew, and high his oar he wields. 
 
 To flrike the tardy wretch who flights his call. 
 
 As leaves in autumn thro' the woody fields 
 
 Fly in fucceffion, when each trembling tree 
 
 Its ling'ring honors to the whirlwind yields ; 
 
 So this bad race, condemn'd by Heaven's decree, 
 
 Succeffive haften from that river's fide : 
 
 As birds, which at a call to bondage flee. 
 
 So are they wafted o'er the gloomy tide ; 
 
 And ere from thence their journey is begun, 
 
 A fecond crew awaits their hoary guide. — 
 
 My gracious Mailer kindly faid— My fon ! 
 
 All thofe who in the wrath of God expire. 
 
 From every clime hafte hither, one by one ; 
 
 Nor would their terrors from this ftream retire,. 
 
 Since heavenly juftice fo impels their mind. 
 
 That fear is quicken'd into keen defire. 
 
 Here may no fpirit pafs, to good inclined ^ 
 
 And hence, if Charon feem'd to thwart thy will. 
 
 Hence wilt thou deem his purpofe not unkind.— 
 
 He paus'd ; and horrors of approaching ill 
 
 Now made the mournful troop fo (land agliafl. 
 
 Their fears yet fcrike me with a deadly chill ! 
 
 The groaning earth fent forth a hollow blail:. 
 
 And flafh'd a fiery glare of gloomy red ! 
 
 The horrid fcene my fiiinting power furpafl : 
 
 I fell, and, as in lleep, my fenfes fled. 
 
 NOTE
 
 198 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 NOTE V. Verse 127. 
 
 H he gay Boccacio, tempts th' Italian Mufe.^ Boccacio was almoll utterly- 
 unknown to our country as a Poet, when two of our moft accomplilhed 
 Critics reftored his poetical reputation. 
 
 Mr. Tyrwhitt, to whom Chaucer is as deeply indebted as a Poet 
 can be to the judgment and erudition of his commentator, has given a 
 fketch of Boccacio's Thefeida, in his introdudory difcourfe to the 
 Canterbury Tales ; and Mr. Warton has enriched the firfl volume of his 
 Hiftory of Englilh Poetry with a confiderable fpecimen of this very rare 
 Italian Epic poem, of which our country is faid to pofTefs but a fmgle 
 copy. — The father of Boccacio was an Italian merchant, a native of 
 Certaldo, near Florence, who in his travels attached himfelf to a young 
 woman of Paris j and our Poet is fuppofed to have been the illegitimate 
 offspring of that conned;ion. He was born in 1313, and educated as a 
 fludent of the canon law; but a fight of Virgil's tomb, according to 
 Filippo Villani, his moll ancient Biographer, made him refolve to re- 
 linquiih his more irkfome purfuits, and devote himfelf entirely to the 
 Mufes. His life feems to have been divided between literature and 
 love, as he was equally remarkable for an amorous difpofition, and a 
 pafiionate attachment to iludy. His moft celebrated miftrefs was Mary 
 of Arragon, the natural daughter of Robert, King of Naples, the gene- 
 rous and enthufiaftic patron of Petrarch. To this lady, diftinguillied 
 by the name of The Fiammetta, Boccacio add relied his capital poem, the 
 Thefeida j telling her, in an introdudory letter, that it contained many 
 allufions to the particular circumftances of their own fecret attachment. 
 In his latter days he retired to Certaldo, and died there in the year 
 1475, of a diforder fuppofed to have arifen from excelTive application. 
 Few authors have rendered more ellcntial fervice to the republic of let- 
 ters th^n Boccacio, as he not only contributed very much to the 
 improvement of his native language, but was particularly inflrumental 
 in promoting the revival of ancient learning : a merit which he fliared 
 with Petrarch. The tender and generous friendship which fabfifted 
 between thefe two engaging authors, refle<Sts the higheft honour on 
 both ; and their letters to each other may be ranked among the moft 
 interefting produ<ftions of that period. Boccacio compofed, according 
 
 to 
 
 j
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 199 
 
 to Quadrio, no lefs than thirty-four volumes. His Novels are univer- 
 fally know^n : his Poetical Works are as follow: i. La Thefeida in 
 Ottava Rima. 2. L'Amorofa Vifione in Terza Rima, 3. II Filoftrato 
 in Ottava Rima. 4. II Ninfale Fiefolano in Ottava Rima. — He piqued 
 himfelf on being the firll: Poet who fung of martial fubje^bs in Italian 
 verfe; and he has been generally fuppofed the inventor of the Ottava 
 Rima, the common Heroic meafure of the Italian Mufe ; but Quadrio 
 has fliewn that it was ufed by preceding writers ; and Pafquicr, in his 
 Recherches, has quoted two flanzas of Thibaud king of Navarre, writ- 
 ten in the fame meafure, on Blanch queen of France, who died in 
 1252. The negled: into which the Poems of Boccacio had fdlen ap- 
 pears the more flriking, as he peculiarly prided himfelf on his poetical 
 charadierj informing the Vv'orld, by an infcription on his tomb, that 
 Poetry was his favourite purfuit — Studium fuit alma Poefis, are the laft 
 Avords of the epitaph which he compofed for himfelf. 
 
 NOTE VL Verse 142. 
 
 S/je fpoke exidtingy and TriJJino fung.'\ Giovanni Giorgio TriHino 
 was born of a noble family in Vicenza, 1478 1 he was particularly dif- 
 tinguiflied by a pafiion for Poetry and Archited:ure ; and one of the very 
 few Poets who have been rich enough to build a palace. This he is faid 
 to have done from a defign of his ovv'n,. under the direction of the cele- 
 brated Palladio. He had the merit of writing the firfl regular tragedy 
 in the Italian language, entitled Sophonifoa ; but in his Epic poem he is 
 generally allowed to have failed, though fome learned Critics (and 
 Gravina amongft them) have endeavoured to fupport the credit of that 
 performance. His fubjed: was the expulfion of the Gctlis from Italy 
 by Belilarius ^ and his poem confifts of twenty-feven books, in blank 
 verfe. He addrelled it to the Emperor Charles the Vth ; and profclfes 
 in his Dedication to have taken Ariftotle for his preceptor, and Homer 
 for his guide. 
 
 The reader will excufe a trifling anachronifm. In my naming Triffino 
 before Ariollo, for poetical reafons. The Italia Liberata of the former 
 was firft publiflied in 15483 the Orlando Furiofo, in 1515. Triffino 
 died at Rome, 1550 -, Ariollo at Ferrara, 1533. 
 
 NOTE
 
 ^t;o 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 NOTE VII. Verse 194. 
 
 Of a poetic Sire the more poetic Son.^ The reputation of Torquato 
 Tafib has almoft eclipfed that of his father Bernardo, who was himfelf a 
 confidcrable Poet, and left two produiflions of the Epic kind, L'Amadigi, 
 and II Floridante : the latter remained unfiniflied at his death, but was 
 afterwards publillied in its imperfect flate by his fon j who has fpoken 
 of his father's poetry with filial regard, in his different critical works. 
 The Amadigi was written at the requefl of feveral Spanifli Grandees, in 
 the court of Charles the Vth, and firfl printed in Venice by Giolito, 
 1560. The curious reader may find an entertaining account of the 
 Author's ideas in compofing this work, among his Letters, volume the 
 firft, page 198. I cannot help remarking, that the letter referred to 
 contains a fimile which Torquato has introduced in the opening of his 
 Jerufalem Delivered. 
 
 The Italians have formed a very pleafing and valuable work, by col- 
 lecting the letters of their eminent Painters ; which contain much in- 
 formation on points relating to their art. The letters of their Poets, if 
 properly feleCted, might alfo form a few interefting volumes : as a proof 
 of this, I ihall infert a fliort letter of the younger Taflb, becaufe it feems 
 to have efcaped the notice of his Biographers, and relates the remarkable 
 circumftauce of his having deliberated on five different fubjecfts before 
 he decided in favour of Goffredo : 
 
 Al M. Illuftre Sig, Conte Ferrante Eilenfe Taffone. 
 
 lo ho fcritto quefta mattina a V. S. chc io defidero di far due Poemi a 
 mio gufto ; e febben per elezione non cambierei il foggetto die una volta 
 prefi ; nondimeno per foddisfar il fignor principe gli do 1' elezione di 
 tutti quefti foggetti, i quali mi paijono fovra gli altri atti a ricever 
 la forma eroica. 
 
 Efpedizion di Goffredo, e degli altri principi contra gl' Infedeli, 
 e ritorno. Dove avro occafione di lodar le famiglie d' Europa, che io 
 vorro. 
 
 Efpedizion di Belifario contra i Goti. 
 
 Di Narfete contra i Goti, e difcorro d' un principe. E in quefli 
 
 6 avrei
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 201 
 
 vrei grandiffitna occafione di lodar le cofe di Spagna e d' Italia e dl 
 Grecia e V origine di cafa d' Auflria. 
 
 Efpedizion di Carlo il magno contra Lanfoni. 
 
 Efpedizion di Carlo contra i Longobardi. In quefti troverei 1' 
 origine di tutte le faniiglie grandi di Germania, di Francia, e d' Italia, 
 e '1 ritorno d' un principe. 
 
 E febben alcuni di quefli foggetti fono ftati prefi, non importa; 
 perche io cercherei di trattargli neglio, e a gindicio d' Ariftotele. 
 
 Opere diTorquato TalTo, torn. ix. p. 240. 
 
 This letter is the more worthy of notice, as the fubjed on which 
 Tallb fixed has been called by Voltaire, and perhaps very juftly, Le plus 
 grand qu'on ait jamais choifi. Le Tafle I'a traite dignement, adds the 
 lively Critic, v/ith unufual candour; yet in his fubfequent remarks h« 
 is peculiarly fevere on the magic of the Italian Poet. The merits of 
 TalTo ra-e very ably defended againft the injuftice of French criticifm, 
 and particularly that of Boileau and Voltaire, in the well-known Letters 
 on Chivalry and Romance. Indeed the genius of this injured Poet 
 feems at length to triumph in the country where he was moll infulted, 
 as the French have lately attempted a poetical verfion of his Jerufalem. 
 
 I enter not into the hiftory of TafTo, or that of his rival Ariofto, 
 becaufe the public has lately received from Mr. Hoole a judicious ac- 
 count of their lives, prefixed to his elegant verfions of their refpecftive 
 Poems. 
 
 NOTE VIII. Verse 197. 
 
 Shall gay T^ajjhni want his fejlive c?'0w?2.'] AlefTandro Taflbni, the 
 fuppofcd inventor of the modern Heroi-comic Poetry, was born at 
 Modena, 1565. His family was noble; but his parents dying during 
 his infancy, left him expofed to vexatious law-fuits, which abforbed a 
 great part of his patrimony, and rendered him dependant. In 1599 he 
 was engaged as Secretary to Cardinal Afcanio Colonna, whom he at- 
 tended on an embafly into Spain. He was occahonally difpatched into 
 Italy on the fervice of that Prelate, and in the courfe of one of thefe ex- 
 peditions v/rote his Obfervations on Petrarch. In 1605 he is fuppofed 
 
 D d to
 
 202 NOTES TO THE 
 
 to have quitted the fervice of the Cardinal, and to have lived in a ilate 
 of freedom at Rome, where, in 1607, he became the chief of a literary 
 fociety, entitled Academia degli Umorifti. He v^^as afterwards em- 
 ployed in the fervice of Charles Emanuel, Duke of Savoys which, after 
 fuffering many vexations in it, he quitted with a defign of devoting 
 himfclf to ftudy and retirement. But this defign he was induced to re- 
 linquiih, and to ferve the Cardinal Lodovifio, nephew of Pope 
 Gregory XV. from whom he received a confiderable ilipend. On the 
 death of this patron, in 1632, he was recalled to his native city by 
 Francis the Firft, Duke of Modena, and obtained an honourable efta- 
 blilhment in the court of that Prince. Age had now rendered him 
 unable to enjoy his good fortune : his health declined in the year cf his 
 return, and he expired in April 1^635. His genius was particularly dif- 
 pofed to lively fatire ; and the incidents of his life had a tendency to 
 increafe that difpofitlon. After having pafied many vexatious and un- 
 profitable years in the fervice of the Great, he had his portrait painted, 
 with a fig in his hand ; and Muratori fuppofes him to have v/ritten 
 thefe two lines on the occafion : 
 
 Dextera cur ficum, quieris, mea geflet inanem : 
 Longi operis merces hasc fuit; aula dedit. 
 
 His celebrated Poem, La Sccchia rapita, was written, as he has him- 
 felf declared, in 161 1 ^ begun in April, and finiflied in Odobcr. It 
 was circulated in MS. received with the utmoft avidity, and firfi: printed 
 at Paris 162::. In a catalogue of the numerous editions of the Secchia, 
 which Muratori has prefixed to his Life of Tallbni, he includes an 
 Englilli tranflation of it, printed 171 5. 
 
 NOTE IX. Verse 209. 
 
 A/id ra/hfy judges that her Vegas lyre.] The famous Lope de 
 Vega, frequently called the Shakefpear of Spain, is perhaps the moft 
 fertile Poet in the annals of Parnatlus ; and it would be difficult to name 
 any author, ancient or modern, fo univerfally idolized w^hile livino- by 
 all ranks of people, and fo magnificently rewarded by the liberality of 
 the Great. He was the fon of Felix de Vega and Francifca Fernandez, 
 6 who
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 203 
 
 who were both defcended from honourable families, and lived in the 
 neighbourhood of Madrid. Our Poet was born in that city, on the 
 25th of November 1562. He was, according to his own expreffion, a 
 Poet from his cradle; and, beginning to make verfes before he had 
 learned to write, he ufed to bribe his elder fchool-fellows with a part of 
 his breakfafl:, to commit to paper the lines he had compofed. Having 
 loft his father while he was ftiil a child, he engaged in a frolic, very 
 natural to a lively boy, and wandered with another lad to various parts 
 of Spain, till, having fpent their money, and being condud:ed before a 
 magiftrate at Segovia, for offering to fell a few trinkets, they were fent 
 home again to Madrid. Soon after this adventure, our young Poet was 
 taken under the protedion of Geronimo Manrique, Bifliop of Avila, and 
 began to diftinguifli himfelf by his dramatic compofitions, v. hicli were 
 received with great applaufe by the public, though their author had not 
 yet completed his education ; for, after this period, he became a member 
 of the univerlity of Alcala, where he devoted himfelf for four years to 
 the ftudy of philofophy. He was then engaged as Secretary to the Duke 
 of Alva, and wrote his Arcadia in compliment to that patron; who i.'i 
 frequently mentioned in his Occafional Poems. He quitted that em- 
 ployment on his marriage with Ifabel de Urbina, a lady (fays his friend 
 and biographer Perez de Montalvan) beautiful without artifice, and vir- 
 tuous without affedlation. His domefcic happinefs was foon interrupted 
 by a painful incident : — Having written fome lively verfes in ridicule of 
 a perfon who had taken fome injurious freedom with his characfler, he re- 
 ceived a challenge in confequencc of his wit; and happening, in the 
 duel which enfued, to give his adverfary a dangerous wound, he was 
 obliged to fly from his family, and flielter himfelf in Valencia. He re- 
 fided there a confiderable time ; but connubial aifedion recalled him to 
 Madrid. His wife died in the year of his return. His afflidion on 
 this event led him to relinquifli his favourite ftudies, and embark on 
 board the Armada which was then preparing for the invafion of England. 
 He had a brother who ferved in that fleet as a lieutenant ; and being 
 fliot in an engagement with fome Dutch vellels, his virtues were cele- 
 brated by our afflided Poet, whofe heart was peculiarly alive to every 
 generous affed:ion. After the ill fuccefs of the Armada, the difconfolate 
 Lope de Vega returned to Madrid, and became Secretary to the Marquis 
 
 D d 2 of
 
 204 NOTES TO THE 
 
 of Malpica, to v/hom he has addrelTed a grateful Sonnet. From tire 
 fervice of tills Patron he paiTed into the houfchold of the Count of 
 Lemos, whom he celebrates as an inimitable Poet. He was once more 
 induced to quit his attendance on the Great, for the more inviting com- 
 forts of a married life. His fecond choice was Juana de Guardio, of 
 noble birth and lingular beauty. By this lady he had two children ; a 
 fon, who died in his infancy, and a daughter, named Feliciana, who 
 furvived her father. The death of his little boy is faid to have haf- 
 tened that of his wife, whom he had the misfortune to lofe in about 
 feven years after his marriage. Having now experienced the precari- 
 oufnefs of all human enjoyments, he devoted himfelf to a religious life^ 
 and fulfilled all the duties of it with the moft exemplary piety ; ftill 
 continuing to produce an aflonifliing variety of poetical compofitions. 
 His talents and his virtues procured him many unfolicited honours. 
 Pope Urban the Vlllth fent him the Crofs of Malta, with the title of 
 Dodtor in Divinity, and appointed him to a place of profit in the 
 Apoftolic Chamber ; favours for which he exprefied his gratitude 
 by dedicating his Corona Tragica (a long poem on the fate of Mary 
 Queen of Scots) to that liberal Pontiff. In his feventy-third year he 
 felt the approaches of death, and prepared himfelf for it with the ut- 
 moft compofure and devotion. His laft hours were attended by many 
 of his intimate friends, and particularly his chief patron the Duke of 
 Seffa, whom he made his executor ; leaving him the care of his daughter 
 Felician.1, and of his various m^anufcripts. The manner in which he 
 took leave of thofe he loved was mofl tender and affecting. He faid to 
 his Difciple and Biographer, Montalvan, That true fame confifted in- 
 being good; and that he would willingly exchange all the applaufes he 
 had received, to add a fingle deed of virtue to the adions of his life. 
 Having given his dying benedi^ion to his daughter, and performed the- 
 lafl ceremonies of his religion, he expired on the 25th of Auguft 
 
 The fplendor of his funeral was equal to the refped paid to him while 
 living. — His magnificent patron, the Duke of SeiTa, invited the chief no- 
 bility of the kingdom to attend it. The ceremony was prolonged 
 through the courfe of fevcral days ; and three fermons in honour of the 
 deceafed were delivered by three of the moll celebrated preachers. Thefe 
 
 3 are
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 205 
 
 are printed with the works of the Poet, and may be confidered as curious 
 fpecimens of the falic eloquence which prevailed at that time. A vo.- 
 lume of encomiafcic verfes, chiefly Spanifh, and written by more than a 
 hundred and fifty of the moft diftinguifhed characters in Spain, was pub- 
 lifhed foon after the death of this lamented Bard. To this colledion 
 his friend and difciple Perez de Montalvan prefixed a circumftantial ac- 
 count of his life and death, which I have chiefly followed in the pre- 
 ceding narrative. An ingenious Traveller, who has lately publifhed a 
 pleafing volume of Letters on the Poetry of Spain, has imputed the duel 
 in which Lope de Vega was engaged to the gallantries of his firft wife; 
 but Montalvan's relation of that adventure clears the honor of the lady, 
 whofe innocence is flill farther fupported by a poem written in her praife 
 by Pedro de Medina Medinilla : it is printed in the works of our Poet, 
 who is introduced in it, under the name of Belardo, celebrating the ex- 
 cellencies and lamenting the lofs of his departed Ifabel. 
 
 Of the perfon and manners of Lope de Vega, his friend Montalvan 
 has only given this general account: — that his frame of body was parti- 
 cularly ftrong, and preferved by temperance in continued health i — that 
 in converfation he was mild and unafluming ; courteous to all, and to 
 women peculiarly gallant ;— very eager when engaged in the bufinefs of 
 his friends, and fomewhat carelefs in the management of his own. Of 
 his wealth and charity I fhall have occafion to fpeak in a fublequent 
 note. The chief expences in which he indulged himfelf were books and 
 pidlures ; of the latter, he diftributed a few as legacies to his intimate 
 friends : to the Dujce of Sefia, a fine portrait of iiimfelf ; and to me, 
 fays Montalvan, another, painted when he was young, furrounded by. 
 dogs, monkies, and otlier monfters, and writing in the midft of them, 
 without attending to their noife. Of the honours paid to this extraor- 
 dinary Poet, his Biographer aflerts that no perfon of eminence vifited 
 Spain without fceking his perfonal acquaintance; that men yielded him 
 precedence when they met him in the flrects, and women faluted him 
 with benedidions when he pafTed under their windows. If fuch ho- 
 mage can be deferved by the moft unwearied application to poetry. 
 Lope de Vega was certainly entitled to it. He declared that he con- 
 ilantly wrote five (lieets a day ; and his biographers, who have formed a. 
 calculation from this account, conclude the number of his verfes to be 
 
 no
 
 2o6 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 no lefs than 21,316,000. His country has very lately publifhed an ele- 
 o-ant edition of his poems in 19 quarto volumes ; his dramitic works are 
 to be added to this collevftion, and will probably be flill more volumi- 
 nous. I Ihall fpeak only of the former.; — Among his poems there are 
 feveral of the Epic kind; the three following appear to rne the moil 
 remarkable, i. La Dragontca. 2. La Hermofura de Angelica. 3. La 
 Jeruiiilem Conquiftada. The Dragontea confiib of ten c.mtos, on the 
 lail: expedition and death of our great naval hero Sir Francis Di-ake, whom 
 the Poet, from his excelTive partiality to his country, confiders as an ava- 
 ricious pirate, or rather, as he chufes to call him, a marine Dragon : and 
 it may be fufficient to obferve that he has treated him accordingly. The 
 poem on Angelica feems to have been written in emulation of Ariofto, 
 and it is founded on a hint in that Poet : it was compofed in the early 
 part of our Author's life, and contains many compliments to his fove- 
 reign Philip the lid : it confillis of 20 cantos, and clofes v/ith Angeli- 
 ca's being rellored to her beloved Medoro. In his Jerufalem Conquillada 
 he enters the lifts with TaiTo, whom he mentions in his preface as hav- 
 ing fung the firft part of the hiftory which he had chofen for his fubjed:. 
 From the great name of Lope de Vega, I had fome thoughts of prefent- 
 ing to the reader a fketch of this his moft remarkable poem j but as an 
 Epic Poet he appears to me lb much inferior to Taffo, and to his coun- 
 tryman and cotemporary Ercilla, that I am. unwilling to fwell thefe 
 extenfive notes by an enlarged defcription of fo unfuccefsful a work : 
 the Author has prophefied in the clofe of it, that, although negled:ed 
 by his own age, it would be efteemed by futurity : — a fingular proof 
 that even the moft favoured writers are frequently difpofed to declaim 
 againft the period in which they live. If Lope de Vega could think 
 himfelf ncglcd:ed, what Poet may ever expecfl to be flatislied with popu- 
 lar applaufc r — But to return to his Jerufalem Conquiftada. Richard the 
 Second of England, and Alphonfo the Eighth of Caftile, are the chief 
 heroes of the poem ; which contains twenty cantos -, and clofes with 
 the unfortunate return of thefe confederateKings, and the death of Saladin. 
 It was firft printed 1609, more than twenty years after the firft appear- 
 ance of Tallb's Jerufalem. One of the moft amiable peculiarities in 
 
 the character of Lope de Vega, is the extreme liberality with which he 
 commends the merit of his rivals. In his Laurel de Apollo, he cele- 
 brates
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 207 
 
 brates all the eminent Spiiniih and Portugueze Poets ; he fpeaks both of 
 Camoens andErcilla with the warmeft applaufe. Among the moft pleaf- 
 ing paffages in this poem is a compliment which he pays to his father, 
 who was, like the father of Taflb, a Poet of confiderable talents. 
 
 Among the fmaller pieces of Lope de Vega, there are two particularly 
 curious ; a defcriptive poem on the garden of his patron the Duke of 
 Alva, and a fonnet in honour of the Invincible Armada : the latter may 
 be confidered as a complete model of Spanilh bombaft : '* Go forth and 
 burn the world," fays the Poet, addreffing himfelf to that mighty fleet; 
 ** my fighs will furnifh your fails with a never-failing wind ; and my 
 
 bread will fupply your cannon with inexhauftible fire." Perhaps 
 
 this may be equalled by a Spanifli character of our Poet, with which I 
 fliall clofe my imperfed: account of him. It is his friend and biop-ra- 
 pher Montalvan, who, in the opening of his life, bellows on him the 
 following titles : El Dodtor Frey Lope Felix de Vega Carpio, Portento 
 del Orbe, Gloria de la Nacion, Luftre de la Patria, Oracula de la Len- 
 gua, Centro de la Fama, Aflfumpio de la Invidia, Cuydado de la Fortuna, 
 Fenix de los Siglos, F'rincipe de los Vcrfos, Orfeo de jas Ciencias, 
 Apolo de las Mufis, Horacio de los Poetas, Virgilio de los Epicos, 
 Homero de los Heroycos, Pindaro de los Lyricos, Sofocles de los Tra- 
 gicos, y Terencio de los Comicos, Unico entre los Mayores, Mayor 
 entre los Grandes, y Grande a todas Luzes, y en todas Materias. 
 
 NOTE X. Verse 239. 
 
 T^he brave Krcilla founds, with potent breath. 
 
 His Epic trumpet in the fields of death. ^ Don Alonzo de Ercilla y 
 Zuniga was equally diftinguiflied as a Hero and a Poet j bat this exalted 
 chara(£ler, notvvithftanding his double claim to our regard, is almofl to- 
 tally unknown in our country, and I fhall therefore endeavour to give 
 the EngliHi reader the befl: idea that I can, both of his gallant life, and of 
 his lingular poem. — He was born in Madrid, on the 7th of Auguft 1533, 
 the third fon of Fortun Garcia de Ercilla, who, though defcended from 
 a noble family, purfued the profefTion of the law, and was fo remarkable 
 for his talents, that he acquired the appellation of ** The fubtle Spaniard." 
 The mother of our Poet v/as alfo noble, and from her he inherited his 
 
 fecond
 
 2o8 NOTES TO THE 
 
 fecond title, Zuniga : ErcilLi was the name of an ancient caflle in Bifcay, 
 which had been long in the polTeffion of his paternal anceftors. He lofl 
 his father while he was yet an infant, a circumflance which had great 
 influence on his future life ; for his mother was received, after the de- 
 ceafe of her hulhand, into the houfehold of the Emprefs Ifibella, the wife 
 of Charles the Vth, and had thus an early opportunity of introducing 
 our young Alonzo into the palace. He foon obtained an appointment 
 there, in the charad:er of page to the Infant Don Philip, to w^hofe fervice 
 he devoted himfelf with the mod heroic enthufiafm, though Philip v/as 
 a mafter who little deferved fo generous an attachment. At the age of 
 fourteen, he attended that Prince in the fplendid progrefs which he made, 
 at the defire of his Imperial father, through the principal cities of the 
 Netherlands, and through parts of Italy and Germany. This fmgular 
 expedition is very circumftantially recorded in a folio volume, by a Spa- 
 niOi hiftorian named Juan Chriftoval Calvete de Eftrella, whofe work 
 affords a very curious and flriking pidlure of the manners and ceremonies 
 of that martial and romantic age. All the cities which were vifited by 
 the Prince contended with each other in magnificent feftivity : the bril- 
 liant feries of literary and warlike pageants which they exhibited, though 
 they anfwercd not their defign of conciliating the affedion of the fuilen 
 Philip, might probably awaken the genius of our youthful Poet, and 
 excite his ambition to acquire both poetical and military fame. In i ^51, 
 he returned with the Prince into Spain, and continued there for three 
 years ; at the end of which he attended his royal mailer to England on 
 his marriage with Queen Mary, which was celebrated at Winchefler in 
 the fummer of 1554. At this period Ercilla firfl allumed the military 
 character; for his fovereign received advice, during his refidence at Lon-^ 
 don, that the martial natives of Aranco, a diflrid: on the coall of Chile, 
 had revolted from the Spanifli government, and difpatched an experienced 
 officer, named Alderete, who attended him in England, to fubdue the 
 infurredtion, inverting him with the command of the rebellious pro- 
 vince. Ercilla embarked with Alderete ; but that officer dying in his 
 pafTage, our Poet proceeded to Lima. Don Hurtado de Mendoza, who 
 commanded there as Viceroy of Peru, appointed his fon Don Garcia to 
 fupply the place of Alderete, and fent him with a confiderable force to 
 oppofe the Arancanians. Ercilla was engaged in this enterprize, and 
 
 greatly
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 209 
 
 greatly dirHnguiilied himfelf in the oblHnatc contclt which ciifued. 
 The noble charadter of the Barbarians who maintained this uneauai 
 ftruggle, and the many fplendid feats of valour which this fcene afibrded, 
 led our author to the fingular defign of making the war, in which he 
 was himfelf engaged, the fubjedt of an Heroic poem; which he entitled 
 " La Araucana," from the name of the country. As many of his own par- 
 ticular adventures may be found in the following fummar)' of his work, 
 I fhall not here enlarge on his military exploits ; but proceed to one of 
 the moft mortifying events of his life, which he brleilv mentions in the 
 conclufion of his poem. After palling with great honour through many 
 and various perils, he was on the point of fuiicring a difgniceful death, 
 from the rafli orders of his young and inconlideratc Com.mander. 
 On his return from an expedition of adventure and difcovery, to the 
 Spanifh city of Imperial, he vv^as prefent at a fcene of public feilivity 
 difplayed there, to celebrate the accefhon of Philip the lid to the crown 
 of Spain ; at a kind of tournament, there arofe an idle difpute between 
 Ercilla and Don Juan de Pineda, in the heat of which the two difputants 
 drew their fwords ; many of the fped:ators joined in the broil; and, a 
 report ariling that the quarrel was a mere pretence, to conceal fome mu- 
 tinous defign, the hafty Don Garcia, their General, committed the tv/o 
 antagonifls to prifon, and fentenced them both to be publicly beheaded. 
 Ercilla himfelf declares, he was condudted to the fcaffold before his pre- 
 cipitate judge difcovered the iniquity of the fentence ; but his innocence 
 appeared juft time enough to fave him ; and he fecms to have been 
 fully reinftated in the good opinion of Don Garcia, as, among the com- 
 plimentary fonnets addrefl'ed to Ercilla, there is one which bears the name 
 of his General, in which he ftyles him the Divine Alonzo, and cele- 
 brates both his military and poetical genius. But Ercilla feems to 
 have been deeply wounded by this affront; for, quitting Chile, he went 
 to Callao, the port of Lima, and there embarked on an expedition 
 againft a Spanifli rebel, named Lope de Aguirre, who, having murdered 
 his captain, and ufurped the chief power, was perpetrating the mod 
 cruel enormities in the fettlement of Venezuela, But Ercilla learned, 
 on his arrival at Panama, that this barbarous ufurper was deffroyed ; 
 he therefore refolved, as his health was much impaired by the hard- 
 ships he had paffed, to return to Spain. He arrived there in the twenty- 
 
 E e ninth
 
 210 NOTES TO THE 
 
 ninth year of his age ; but foon left it, and travelled, as he hlmfelf in- 
 forms us, through France, Italy, Germany, Silefia, Moravia, and Pan- 
 nonia; but the particulars of this expedition are unknown. In the year 
 1570 he appeared again at Madrid, and was married to Maria Bazan, a 
 lady whom he contrives to celebrate in the courfe of his military 
 poem. He is faid to have been afterwards gentleman of the bed-chamber 
 to the Emperor Rodolph the lid, a prince who had been educated at 
 Madrid ; but the connection of our Poet with this Monarch is very in- 
 diflindly recorded j and indeed all the latter part of his life is little 
 known. In the year 1580 he refided at Madrid, in a ftate of retirement 
 and poverty. The time and circumftances of his death are uncertain ; 
 it is proved that he was living in the year 1596, by the evidence of a 
 Spanirti writer named Mofquera, who, in a treatife of military difcipline, 
 (peaks of Ercilla as engaged at that time in celebrating the victories of 
 Don Alvaro Bazan, Marques de Santa Cruz, in a poem which has ne- 
 ver appeared, and is fuppofed to have been left imperfed: at his death. 
 Some anecdotes related of our Poet afford us ground to hope that his 
 various merits were not entirely unrewarded. It-is faid, that in fpeak- 
 ing to his fovereign Philip, he w*as fo overv/helmed by diffidence that 
 language failed him: ** Don Alonzo ! (replied the King) fpeik to me 
 in writing." — Pie did fo, and obtained his requefl:. The Spanifh Hif- 
 torian Ovalle, who has written an account of Chile, in which he fre- 
 quently fupports his narration by the authority of Ercilla, affirms that 
 our Poet prekntcd his work to Philip with his own hand, and received 
 a recompence from the King. But in this circumftance I fear the Hif- 
 torian was mistaken, as he fuppofes it to have happened on the return 
 of Ercilla from Chile; and our Poet, in a diftindt portion of his work, 
 which was net publifhed till many years after that period, exprefsly de- 
 clares, in addreffing himfelf to Philip, that all his attempts to ferve 
 him had been utterly unrequited. Ercilla left no legitimate family; 
 but had fome natural children, the mofl eminent of which was a daugh- 
 ter, who was advant::geoui]y married to a nobleman of Portugal. 
 
 In thr.t elegant colledUon of Spaniffi Poets, ''ParnafoEfpanoly" there is 
 a pleafmg little amorous poem, written by Ercilla in his youth, which is 
 peculiarly commended by Lcpe de Vega ; who has beftowed a very ge- 
 XiixQM^ encomium on our Poet, in his ''Laurel de ^s^Gbr But the great 
 
 aad i
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 211 
 
 and fingular work which has juftly rendered Ercilla immortal, is his 
 Poem entitled Araucana, which was publiflied in three feparate parts : the 
 firil appeared in i <^^j ; he added the fecond in the fucceeding year j and 
 in 1590 he printed a complete edition of the whole. It was applauded 
 by the mofl eminent writers of Spain ; and Cervantes, in fpeaking of 
 Don Quixote's Library, has ranked it among the choiceft treafures of 
 the Caftilian Mufe. Voltaire, who fp.aks of Ercilla with his ufual 
 fpirit and inaccuracy, has the merit of having made our Poet more gene- 
 rally known, though his own acquaintance with him appears to have 
 been extremely flight ; for he affirms that Ercilla was in the battle of 
 Saint Quintin : a miflake into which he never could have flillen, had he 
 read the Araucana. Indeed the undiftinguifhing cenfure Vv'hich he paflcs 
 on the poem in general, after commending one particular palTage, fuffi- 
 ciently proves him a perfe6t flranger to many fubfequent parts of the 
 work ; yet his remark on the inequality of the Poet is jufl. Ercilla is 
 certainly unequal ; but, with all his defecfts, he appears to me one of the 
 mofl extraordinary and engaging charadlers in the poetical world. Per- 
 liaps I am a little partial to him, from the accidental circumftance of 
 having firfl: read his poem with a departed friend, whofe opinions are 
 very dear to me, and who was particularly fond of this military Bard. 
 However this may be, my idea of Ercilla's merit has led me to hazard 
 the following extenfive fketch of his Work : — it has fwelled to a much 
 larger fize than I at tirft intended ; for I was continually tempted to ex- 
 tend it, by the deflre of not injuring the peculiar excellencies of this 
 wonderful Poet. If I have not utterly failed in that defire, the EngliHi 
 reader will be enabled to judge, and to enjoy an author, who, coniideri ng 
 his fubjedt and its execution, may be faid to fland fingle and unparal- 
 leled in the hofi: of Poets. His beauties and his defefts are of fo ob- 
 vious a nature, that I fhall not enlarge upon them ; but let it be re- 
 membered, that his poem was compofed amidft the toils and perils of 
 the mofl fatiguing and hazardous fervice, and that his vcrfcs were fome- 
 times written on fcraps of leather, from the want of better materials. 
 His ftyle is remarkably pure and perfpicuous, and, notwithllanding the 
 reftraint of rhyme, it has frequently all the eafe, the fpirit, and the volu- 
 bility of Homer. I wifh not, however, to conceal his defedls ; and I 
 have therefore given a very fair account of the ftrange epifode he intro- 
 
 E e 2 duces
 
 212 NOTES TO THE 
 
 duces concerning the hiftory of Dido, which has juftly fallen under the 
 ridicule of Voltaire. I muft however obferve, as an apology for Ercilla, 
 that many Bards of his country have confidered it as a point of honour 
 to defend the reputation of this injured lady, and to attack Virgil with 
 a kind of poetical Quixotifm for having flandered the chaftity of fo 
 fpotlcfs a heroine. If my memory does not deceive me, both Lope de 
 Vega and Quevedo have employed their pens as the champions of Dido, 
 We may indeed very readily join the laugh of the lively Frenchman 
 
 againil 
 
 S O N E T O 
 
 DE LA SENORA DONA LEONOR DE ICIZ, 
 
 SENORA DE LA BARONIA DE RAFALES 
 
 A DON ALONSO DE ERCILLA. 
 
 Mil bronces para eftatuas ya forxados. 
 Mil lauros de tus obras premio honrofo 
 Te ofrece Efpana, Ercilla generofo, 
 Por tu pluma y tu lanza tan ganados. 
 
 Hourefe tu valor entre foldados, 
 Invidie tu nobleza el valerofo, 
 Y bufque en ti el poeta mas famofo 
 Lima para fus verfos mas limados. 
 
 Derrame por el mundo tus loores 
 La fama, y eternice tu memoria, 
 Porque jamas el tiempo la confama. 
 
 Gocen ya^ fin temor de que hay mayores 
 Tus hechos, y tus libros de igual gloria, 
 Pues la han ganado igual la efpada y pluma.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 215 
 
 againft our Poet on this occafion j but let us recoiled: that Ercilla has 
 infinitely more Homeric fpirit, and that his poem contains more genuine 
 Epic beauties, than can be found in Voltaire. 
 
 Ercilla has been honoured with many poetical encomiums by the 
 writers of his own country ; and, as I believe the mofl elegant compli- 
 ment which has been paid to his genius is the produ6tion of a Spanlfh 
 lady, I fliall clofe this account of him with a tranflation of the Sonnet, 
 in which fhe celebrates both the Hero and the Poet. 
 
 SONNET 
 
 FROM THE LADY LEONORA DE ICIZ, 
 BARONESS OF RAFALES, 
 TO DON ALONZO DE ERCILLA. 
 
 Marble, that forms the Hero's mimic frame. 
 And laurels, that reward the Poet's ftrain. 
 Accept, Ercilla, from thy grateful Spain ! 
 Thy fword and pen alike this tribute claim. 
 Our Warriors honor thy heroic name ; 
 Thy birth is envy'd by Ambition's train -, 
 Thy verfes teach the Bard of happieft vein 
 A finer polifh, and a nobler aim. 
 May glory round the world thy merit fpread ! 
 In Memory's volume may thy praifes ftand 
 In characters that time fliall ne'er deftroy ! 
 Thy fongs, and thy exploits, without the dread 
 To be furpafs'd by a fuperior hand. 
 With equal right their equal fame enjoy ! 
 
 A. SKETCH:
 
 214 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 A SKETCH OF THE ARAUCANA. 
 
 THE Poem of Efcilla opens with the following expofition of his 
 fubjedt : 
 
 I 
 
 T Sing not love of ladies, nor of fights 
 . Devis'd for gentle dames by courteous knights. 
 Nor feafts, nor tourneys, nor that tender care 
 Which prompts the Gallant to regale the Fair -, 
 But the bold deeds of Valor's fav'rite train, 
 Thofe undegenerate fons of warlike Spain, 
 Who made Arauco their ftern laws embrace. 
 And bent beneath their yoke her untam'd race. 
 Of tribes diftinguirti'd in the field I fmg ; 
 Of nations who dlfdain the name of King ; 
 Courage, that danger only taught to grow. 
 And challenge honour from a generous foe ; 
 And perfevering toils of pureft fame. 
 And feats that aggrandize the Spanifh name : 
 For the brave a6tions of the vanquifh'd fpread 
 The brightefl glory round the vidor's head. 
 
 He then addrefTes his work to his fovereign, Philip the Second, and 
 devotes lis firfl Canto to the defcription of that part of the new world 
 which forms the fcene of his adion, and is called Arauco ; a diflrid: in 
 the province of Chile. He paints the lingular charad:er and various 
 cufloms of its warlike inhabitants with great clearnefs and fpirit. In 
 many points they bear a ftriking refemblance to the ancient Germans, 
 as they are drawn with a kind of poetical energy by the ftrong pencil of 
 Tacitus. The firll: Canto clofes Vvith a brief account how this martial i 
 province was fuhdued by a Spanifli officer named Valdivia ; with an ' 
 
 intimation
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 215 
 
 intimation that his negligence in his new dominicn gave birth to thofe 
 important exploits which the Poet propofcs to cekbrate. 
 
 CANTO IL 
 
 17 RCILLA begins his Cantos much in the manner of Ariofto, with a 
 moral reflection; fometimes rather too much dilated, hut generally ex- 
 prefled in eafy, elegant, and fpirited veife. — The following lines fumtly 
 imitate the two firft flanzas of his fecond Canto : 
 
 Many there are who, in this mortal flrife. 
 Have reach'd the flippery heights of fplendid life : 
 For Fortune's ready hand its fuccour lent j 
 Smiling (he rais'd them up the fleep afcent. 
 To hurl them headlong from that lofty feat 
 To which flie led their unfufpeding feet -, 
 E'en at the moment when all fears difperfe. 
 And their proud fancy fees no fad reverfe. 
 Little they think, beguil'd by fair fuccefs. 
 That Joy is but the herald of Diftrcfs : 
 The hafty wing of time efcapes their fight. 
 And thofe dark evils that attend his flight : 
 Vainly they dream, with gay prefumption warm^ 
 Fortune for them will take a fteadier form ^ 
 She, unconcern'd at what her victims feel. 
 Turns with her wonted hafl:e her fatal wheel. 
 
 After blaming his countrymen for abuiing their good fortune, the 
 Poet celebrates, in the following fpirited manner, the eagernefs and in- 
 dignation with which the Indians prepared to wreak their vengeance on 
 their Spanifli opprcflbrs : 
 
 The Indians firfl:, by novelty difmay'd. 
 
 As Gods rever'd us, and as Gods obey'd; 
 
 But v/hen they found we were of woman born> 
 
 Their homage turn'd to enmity and fcorn : 
 
 Z Theit
 
 2i6 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Their childiih error, when our weaknefs fliow'd,. 
 They bhifh'd at what their ignorance beflow'd ; 
 Fiercely they burnt, with anger and with fliame. 
 To lee their niafters but of mortal frame. 
 Difddining cold and cowardly delay. 
 They feek atonement, on no diftant day : 
 Prompt and refolv'd, in quick debate they join. 
 To form of deep revenge their dire defign. 
 Impatient that their bold decree lliould fpread. 
 And Ihake the world around with fudden dread, 
 Th' aflcmbling Chieftains led fo large a train. 
 Their ready hoil o'erfprcad th' extenfive plain. 
 No kunmons now the foldier's heart requires ; 
 The thirfl of battle every breaft infpires ; 
 No pay, no promife of reward, they afk. 
 Keen to accomplifia their fpontaneous taflc ; 
 And, by the force of one avenging blow, 
 Crulli and annihilate their foreign foe. 
 Of fome brave Chiefs, who to this council came. 
 Well may 'ft thou. Memory, preferve the name ; 
 Tho' rude and favage, yet of noble foul, 
 Juftly they claim their place on Glory's roll. 
 Who robbing Spain of many a gallant fon. 
 In fo confin'd a fpace fuch vi6:ories won ; 
 Whofe fame fome living Spaniards yet may fpread. 
 Too well attefted by our warlike dead. 
 
 The Poet proceeds to mention, in the manner of Homer, but in a 
 much fliorter catalogue, the principal chieftains, and the number of 
 their refpedlive valTals. 
 
 Uncouthly as their names muft found to an Englifli ear, it feems ne- 
 ceflary to run through the lift, as thefe free and noble-minded favages 
 26t fo diftinguilhed a part in the courfe of the poem. — Tucapel ftands 
 firft ; renowned for the moft inveterate enmity to the Chriftians, and 
 leader of three thoufand vaiTals : Angol, a valiant youth, attended by 
 four thoufand : Cayocupil, with three ; and Millarapue, an elder chief, 
 
 with 
 
 I
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 217 
 
 Avlth five tlioufand : Paycabi, with three thoufand ; and Lcmolemo, with 
 iix : Maregnano, Gualemo, and Lcbopia, with three thoufand each : 
 Elicura, diftinguiHied by flrength of body and dctellation of fervitudr, 
 with fix thoufand ; and the ancient Colocolo with a fuperior number : 
 Ongolmo, with four thoufand ; and Puren, with fix ; the fierce and 
 gigantic Lincoza with a ilill larger train. Peteguelen, lord of the valley 
 of Arauco, prevented from perfonal attendance by the Chriftians, dif- 
 patches fix thoufand of his retainers to the aflembly : the moll dillin- 
 guifhed of his party are Thome and Andalican. The Lord of the mari- 
 time province of Pilmayquen, the bold Caupolican, is alfo unable to 
 appear at the opening of the council. Many other Chieftains attended, 
 whofe names the Poet fuppreffes, left his prolixity fliould offend. A^- 
 they begin their bufinefs in the flyle of the ancient Germans, with 
 a plentiful banquet, they foon grow exafperated with liquor, and a vio- 
 lent quarrel enfues concerning the command of the forces for the pro- 
 je<fled war: an honour which almoft every chieftain was arrogajit 
 enough to challenge for himfelf. In the midll of this turbulent debate, 
 the ancient Colocolo delivers the following harangue, which Voltaire 
 prefers (and I think with great jufiiice) to the fpeech of Neltor, on a 
 fimilar occafion, in the firft Iliad, 
 
 Afiembled Chiefs ! ye guardians of the land ! 
 
 Think not I mourn from thirll of loft command. 
 
 To find your rival fpirits thus purfue 
 
 A poft of honour which I deem my due, 
 
 Thefe marks of age, you fee, fuch tlioughts difown 
 
 In me, departing for the world unknown ; 
 
 But my warm love, which ye have long pofTeft, 
 
 Now prompts that counfel which you'll find the beft. 
 
 Why fhould we now for marks of glory jar ? 
 
 Why wifli to fpread our martial name afar ? 
 
 Crulh'd as w€ are by Fortune's cruel ftroke. 
 
 And bent beneath an ignominious yoke, 
 
 111 can our minds fuch noble pride maintain, 
 
 While theiierce Spaniard holds our galling chain. 
 
 Your generous fury here ye vainly fhew ^ 
 
 Ah ! rather pour it on th' embattled foe ! 
 
 F f What
 
 : flame, 1 
 r fame, > 
 liame. j 
 
 218 NOTES TO THE 
 
 What frenzy has your fouls of fenfe bereav'd ? 
 Ye rufli to felf-perdltion, unperceiv'd. 
 'Gainft your own vitals would ye lift thofe hands,. 
 Whofe vigor ought to burft oppreflion's bands ? 
 If a deli re of death this rage create, 
 
 die not yet in this difgracefui ftate ! 
 Turn your keen arms, and this indignant flame, 
 Againll; the breaft of thofe who fmk your 
 Who made the world a witnefs of your Ih; 
 Hafte ye to caft thefe hated bonds away. 
 
 In this the vigor of your fouls difplay ; 
 
 Nor blindly lavifli, from your country's veins. 
 
 Blood that may yet redeem her from her chains. 
 
 E'en while I thus lament, I ftill admire 
 The fervor of your fouls -, they give me fire : 
 But, juftly trembling at their fatal bent, 
 
 1 dread fome dire calamitous event ; 
 
 Leit in your rage Dilfention's frantic hand 
 
 Should cut the fmews of our native land. 
 
 If fuch its doom, my thread of being burA, 
 
 And let your old compeer expire the firfl ! 
 
 Shall this fhrunk frame, thus bow'd by age's weight. 
 
 Live the weak witnefs of a nation's fate ? 
 
 No : let fome friendly fword, with kind relief. 
 
 Forbid its finking in that fcene of grief. 
 
 Happy whofe eyes in timely darknefs clofe, 
 
 Sav'd from that worfl: of fights, his country's woes ! 
 
 Yet, while I can, I make your weal my care. 
 
 And for the public good my thoughts declare. 
 
 Equal ye are in courage and in worth ; 
 Heaven has afTign'd to all an equal birth : 
 In wealth, in power, and majefty of foul. 
 Each Chief feems worthy of the world's controul. 
 Thefe gracious gifts, not gratefully beheld. 
 To this dire ilrife your daring minds impell'd. 
 
 But on your generous valor I depend. 
 That all our country's woes will fwiftly end. 
 
 A Leader
 
 T H 1 R P E P I S T L E. ^i^ 
 
 A- Leader -ftill our prefent ilate demands. 
 To guide to vengeance our impatient ban^s ; 
 Fit for this hardy talk tliat Chief I deem. 
 Who longeil may fufbin .a maflive beam : 
 Your rank is equal, let your force be try'd. 
 And for the ftrongefl let his ftrcngth decide. 
 
 The Chieftains acquiefce in this propofal ; which, as Voltaire juflly 
 obferves, is very natural in a nation of favages. The beam is produced, 
 and of a fize fo enormous, that thePoet declares himfelf afraid to fpecify 
 its weight. The firfl: Chieftains who engage in the trial fupport it on 
 their flioulders five and iix hours :each j Tucapel fourteen ; and Lincoza 
 more than double that number ; when the aifembly, confidering his 
 ftrength as almofl fupernatural, is eager to ,befi:ow on him the title of 
 General ; but in the moment he is exulting in this new honour, 
 Caupolican arrives without attendants. His perfon and charader arc 
 thus defcribed by the Poet : 
 
 Tho' from his birth one darken'd eye he drew 
 (The viewlefs orb was of the granate's hue) 
 Nature, who partly robb'd him of his fight. 
 Repaid this failure by redoubled might. 
 This noble youth was of the higheft flate ; 
 His actions honour'd, and his words of weight : 
 Prompt and refolv'd in every generous caufe, 
 A friend to Ji^ftice and her fterneft laws : 
 Fafhion'd for fudden feats, or toils of length, 
 His limbs poffefs'd both fupplenefs and flrength : 
 Dauntlefs his mind, determin'd and adroit 
 In every quick and hazardous exploit. 
 
 Tiiis accompliflied Chieftain is received with great joy by the aflcm- 
 bly ; and, having furpafled Lincoza by many degrees in the trial, is in- 
 verted with the fupreme command. He difpatches a fmall party to at- 
 tack a neighbouring Spaniih fort : they execute his orders, and make 
 
 F f 2 a- vigorous
 
 220 NOTES TO THE 
 
 a vigorous alTault. After a fharp conflia they are repulfed^ but in the: 
 moment of their retreat Caupolican arrives with his army to their fup~ 
 port. The Spaniards in defpair evacuate the fort, and make their efcape 
 in the night : the news is brought to Valdivia, the Spanifh Commander 
 in the city of Conception j— and with his refolution to punilh the Bar-»^ 
 barians the canto concludes. 
 
 CANTO IIL 
 
 Q CURELESS malady ! Oh fatal pert ? 
 
 Embrac'd with ardor and with pride carefl; 
 Thou common vice, thou mofl contagious ill. 
 Bane of the mind, and frenzy of the will ! 
 Thou foe to private and to public health ; 
 Thou dropfy of the foul, that thirfts for wealth, 
 Infitiate Avarice ! — 'tis from thee we trace 
 The various mifery of our mortal race. 
 
 With this fpirited and generous inved:ive againil: that prevailing vice 
 of his countrymen, which fullied the luftre of their moil brilliant ex- 
 ploits, Ercilla opens his 3d canto. He does not fcruple to affert, that the 
 enmity of the Indians arofe from the avaricious feverity of their Spanifh 
 opprelTors ; and he accufes Valdivia on this head, though he gives him 
 ihe praife of a brave and gallant officer.. — This Spaniard, on the firft 
 intelligence of the Indian infurreulion, difpatched his fcouts from the 
 city where he commanded. They do not return. Prefled by the impa- 
 tient gallantry of his troops, Valdivia marches out : — they foon difcover 
 the mangled heads of his mellengers fixed up as a fped:acle of terror on 
 the road. Valdivia deliberates what raeafures to purfue. His army en- 
 treat him to continue his march* He confents, being piqued by their 
 infinuations of his difgracing the Spanifli arms. An Indian ally brings him 
 an account that twenty thoufand of the confederated Indians are waiting 
 to deftroy him in the valley of Tucapel. He ftill prefles forward y ar- 
 rives
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 221 
 
 rives In fight of the fort which the Indians had deftroyed, and engages 
 them in a moft obftinate battle ; in the defcription of which, the Poet 
 introduces an original and ftriking iimile, in the following manner i 
 
 The fteady pikemen of the favage band. 
 
 Waiting our hafty charge, in order ftand ; 
 
 But when th' advancing Spaniard aim'd his ftroke. 
 
 Their ranks, to form a hollow fquare, they broke -, 
 
 An eafy pafl'age to our troop they leave. 
 
 And deep within their lines their foes receive; 
 
 Their files refuming then the ground they gave. 
 
 Bury the Chriflians in that clofmg grave. 
 
 As the keen Crocodile^ who loves to lay 
 His filent ambujQi for his finny prey. 
 Hearing the icaly tribe with fportive found 
 Advance, and caft a muddy darknefs round. 
 Opens his mighty mouth, with caution, wide. 
 And, when th' unwary fifh within it glide, 
 Clofing with eager hafle his hollow jaw. 
 Thus fatiates with their lives his rav'nous maw : 
 So, in their toils, without one warning thought, 
 The murd'rous foe our little fquadron caught 
 With quick deftru6lion, in a fatal ftrife. 
 From whence no Chriflian foldier 'fcap'd with life. 
 
 Such was the fate of the advanced guard of the Spaniards. The Poefr 
 then defcribes the conflidl of the main army with great fpirit : — ten Spa- 
 niards diftinguifh themfelves by fignal ^(Xs of courage, but are all cut 
 in pieces. The battle proceeds thus :. 
 
 The hoiHle fword, now deeply dy'd in blood, 
 Drench'd the wide field with many a fanguine flood -, 
 Courage flill grows to form the fierce attack. 
 But wafted vigor makes the combat flack : 
 No paufc they feek, to gain exhaufted breathy 
 No reft, except the final reft of death : 
 
 The
 
 
 NOTES TO TH E 
 
 The warieft combatants now only try 
 
 To fnatch the fweets of vengeance ere they die. 
 
 The fierce difdain of death, and fcorn of flight. 
 Give to our fcanty troop fuch wond'rous might. 
 The Araucanian hofl begin to yield ; 
 They quit with lofs and fliame the long-fought field : 
 They liy ; and their purfuers fliake the plain 
 With joyous fliouts of Vidory and Spain. 
 But dire mifchance, and Fate's refiftlefs fway, 
 Gave a ftrange iffue to the dreadful day. 
 
 An Indian Youth, a noble Chieftain's fon. 
 Who as our friend his martial feats begun. 
 Our Leader's Page, by him to battle train'd. 
 Who now belide him the hard fight fuftain'd, 
 As he beheld his kindred Chiefs retire. 
 Felt an indignant flafli of patriot fire ; 
 And thus incited to a glorious ftand 
 The flying champions of his native land : 
 
 Mifguided Country, by vain fear poflefl:. 
 Ah whither dofl thou turn thy timid breafl ? 
 Ye brave compatriots, fhall your ancient fame 
 JBe vilely buried in this field of fliame ? 
 Thofe laws, thofc rights, ye gloried to defend. 
 All perifli, all by this ignoble end ? 
 From Chiefs of dreaded power, and honor'd worth. 
 Ye fink to abjed; flaves, the fcorn of earth ! 
 To the pure founders of your boafted race 
 Ye give the curelefs wound of deep difgrace ! 
 Behold the wafl:ed vigor of your foe ! 
 See, bath'd in fweat and blood, their courfers blow! 
 Lofe not your mental force, your martial fires. 
 Our befl: inheritance from generous fires ; 
 Sink not thie noble Araucanian name. 
 From glory's fummit to the depths of fliame ; 
 Fly, fly the fervitude your fouls deteil ! 
 To the keen fword oppofe the dauntlefs breaft. 
 
 Why
 
 THIRD EPISTL E. 223 
 
 Why fhew ye frames endued with manly power, 
 Yet {hrink from danger in the trying hour ? 
 Fix in your minds the friendly truth I fptak ; 
 Vain are your fears, your terror blind and weak : 
 Now m.ike your names immortal ; now reftore 
 Freedom's loft bleffings to your native fliore : 
 Now turn, while Fame and Vidiory invite. 
 While profp'^rous Fortune calls you to the fight ; 
 Or yet a moment ceafe, O ccafe to fly. 
 And tor our country learn of me to die ! 
 
 As thus he fpeaks, his eager fteps advance. 
 And 'gainft the Spanifh Chief he points his lance ;.. 
 To lead his kindred fugitives from flight. 
 Singly he dares to tempt th' unequal fight : 
 Againfl: our circling arms, that round him fhine. 
 Eager he darts amidft the thickeft line. 
 Keen as, when chaf 'd by fummer's fiery beam. 
 The young Stag plunges m the cooling fl:ream. 
 
 The Poet proceeds to relate the great agility and valor difplayed by 
 Lantaro, for fuch is the name of this gallant and patriotic Youth : and, 
 as Ercilla has a foul fufliciently heroic to do full jufl;ice to the virtues of 
 an enemy, he gives him the highefl; praife. Having mentioned on the 
 Qccafion many heroes of ancient hifl:ory, he exclaims : 
 
 Say, of thefe famous Chiefs can one exceed 
 
 Or match this young Barbarian's noble deed ? 
 
 Vi(5l'ry for them, her purpofe unexplor'd. 
 
 Tempted by equal chance their happy fword : 
 
 What riik, what peril did they bolaly meet. 
 
 Save where Ambition urg'd the fplendid feat ; 
 
 Or mightier Int'reft fir'd the daring mind. 
 
 Which makes a Hero of the fearful Hind ? 
 
 Many there are who with a brave difdain 
 
 Face all the perils of the deathful plain, 
 
 2 Who,.
 
 224 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 \\'ho, fir'd by hopes of glory, nobly dare. 
 Yet fiiil the ftroke of adverle chance to bear; 
 \\'ith animated fire their fpirit ihines. 
 Till the ihort fplendor of tJieir day declines ; 
 But all their valor, all their ftrength expires. 
 When iiclde Fortune from their lide retires. 
 This youthful Hero, when the die was caft. 
 War's dire decree againfl his country paft. 
 Made tha ftern Power the finifh'd caufe refume. 
 And finallv reverie the cruel doom z 
 He, by his efforts in the dread debate, 
 Forc'd the-determin'd will of adverfe Fate, 
 From fliouting Triumph rulh'd the palm to tear. 
 And fix'd it on the brow of faint Defpain 
 
 CaupoTican, leading his army back to the charge, in confequence of 
 Lantaro's efforts in .their favour, obtains a complete vidtory. The Spa- 
 niards are all llain in the field, except their Commander Valdivia, who 
 tiies, attended only by a prieft ; but he is foon taken prifoner, and con- 
 du'lted before the Indian Chief, who is inclined to fpare his life; when 
 an elder favage, called Leocato, in a fudden buril of indignation, kills 
 him with his club. 
 
 All the people of Arauco afferable in a great ^lain to celebrate their 
 vidtory : old and young, women and children, unite in the feflival,; and 
 the trees that furround the fcene of their affembly are decorated with the 
 heads and fpoils of their flaughtered enemies. 
 
 They meditate the total extermination of the Spaniards from their 
 country., and even a defcent on Spain. The General makes a prudent 
 fpeech to reftrain their impetuofity ; and afterwards, beflowing jufl ap- 
 plaufe on the brave exploit of the young Lantaro, appoints him his lieu- 
 tenant. In the midft of the feftivity, Caupolican receives advice that a 
 party of fourteen Spaniih horfemen had attacked fome of his forces with 
 great havoc. He difpatches Lantaro to oppofe them. 
 
 CANTO
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 225 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 A PARTY of fourteen gallant Spaniards, who had fet forth from the city 
 of Imperial to join Valdivia, not being apprized of his unhappy fate, 
 are furprized by the enemy where they expected to meet their Comman- 
 der ; — they defend themfelves with great valor. They arc informed by 
 a friendly Indian of the fate of Valdivia. They attempt to retreat ; but 
 are furrounded by numbers of the Araucanians : — when the Poet intro- 
 duces the following inftance of Spanifli heroifm, which I infert as a 
 curious flroke of their military chara(iler : 
 
 Here, cried a Spaniard, far unlike his race. 
 
 Nor fhall his abjed: name my verfe debafe. 
 
 Marking his few ailbciates march along, 
 
 O that our band were but a hundred flrong ! 
 
 The brave Gonfalo with difdain replied : 
 
 Rather let two be fever'd from our fide. 
 
 Kind Heaven ! that Memory may our feats proclaim 
 
 And call our little troop The Twelve of Fame ! 
 
 They continue to fight with great bravery againft fuperior numbers, 
 
 when Lantaro arrives with a frefh army againft them. Still undaunted, 
 
 they only refolve to fell their lives as dear as poffible. Sex-^n of them are 
 
 i cut to pieces. — In the midft of the llaughter a furious thunder and hail 
 
 I florm arifes, by which incident the furviving Ceven efcape. The tempell 
 
 is defcribed with the fallowing original fimilc : 
 
 Now in the turbid air a ftormy cloud 
 Spreads its terrific (liadow o'er the crowd ; 
 The gathering darknefs hides the folar ray. 
 And to th' affrighted earth denies the day ; 
 The rufliing winds, to which the forefls yield, 
 Rive the tall tree, and defolate the field : 
 
 Gg In
 
 226 NOTES TO THE 
 
 In drops diflindl nnd rare now falls the rain ; 
 
 And now with thickening fury beats the plain. 
 
 As the bold mafter of the martial drum. 
 
 Ere to the fliock th' advancing armies come. 
 
 In awful notes, that fliake the heaven's high arch. 
 
 Intrepid flrikes the flow and folemn march ; 
 
 But, when the charging heroes yield their breath,, 
 
 Doubles the horrid harmony of death : 
 
 So the dark temped, with encreafing found. 
 
 Pours the loud deluge on the echoing ground. 
 
 The few Spaniards that efcape take refuge in a neighbouring fort;, which 
 they abandon the following day on hearing the fate of Valdivia. Lan- 
 taro returns, and receives new honors and new forces from his General, 
 to march againft a Spaniih army, which departs from the city of Pence 
 under the command of Villagran, an experienced officer, to revenge the 
 death of Valdivia. The departure of the troops from Penco is de- 
 fcribed, and the diftrefs of the women. — Villagran marches with expe-» 
 dition towards the frontiers of Arauco. He arrives at a dangerous pafs, 
 and finds Lantaro, with his army of io,ioo Indians, advantageoufly 
 pofled on the heights, and waiting witli great fleadinefs and dilcipline. 
 to give him battle. 
 
 G A N T O r. 
 
 T ANTARO with great difficulty retrains the eager Indians in their 
 poll on the rock. He fuffers a few to defcend and fldrmifh on the 
 lower ground, where feveral diftinguiffi themfelves in fingle combat. 
 The Spaniards attempt in vain to diflodge the army of Lantaro by an 
 attack of their cavalry : — they afterwards fire on them from fix pieces 
 of cannon. 
 
 The vext air feels the thunder of the fight. 
 
 And fmoke and flame involve the mountain's height j 
 
 Earth
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 227 
 
 Earth feems to open as the flames alpire. 
 And new volcano's fpout dertrudlve fire. 
 
 Lantaro faw no hopes of life allovv'd, 
 Save by difperfing this terrific cloud. 
 That pours its lightning with fo dire a fliock. 
 Smiting his lellcn'd hoft, who ftrew the rock ; 
 And to the troop of Leucoton the brave 
 His quick command the fkilful Leader gave : 
 He bids them fiercely to the charge defcend, 
 And thus exhorts aloud each ardent friend : 
 
 My faithful partners in bright vidory's meed, 
 Whom fortune fummons to this noble deed. 
 Behold the hour when your prevailing might 
 Shall prove that Juilice guards us in the fight ! 
 Now firmly fix your lances in the reft. 
 And rufh to honor o'er each hoftile breaft ; 
 Through every bar your bloody pafTage force. 
 Nor let a brother's fall impede your courfe ; 
 Be yon dread inftruments of death your aim ; 
 Poffeft of thefe you gain eternal fame : 
 The camp fliall follow your triumphant trace. 
 And own you leaders in the glorious chace. 
 
 While thefe bold words their ardent zeal exalt, 
 They ruih impetuous to the rafh afiault. 
 
 The Indians, undifmayed by a dreadful flaughter, gain pofTeiTion of the 
 cannon.— Villagran makes a fliort but fpirited harangue to his flying 
 foldiers. He is unable to rally them : and, chufing rather to die than to 
 furvive fo ignominious a defeat, rufhes into the thickeft of the enemy :— • 
 when the Poet, leaving his fate uncertain, concludes the canto. 
 
 Gg2 CANTO
 
 228 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 '"p H E valiant mind is privileg'd to feel 
 
 Superior to each turn of Fortune's wheel j 
 Chance has no power its value to debafe. 
 Or brand it with the mark of deep difgrace : 
 So thought the noble Villagran, our Chief, 
 Who chofe that death (liould end his prefent grief, 
 And fmooth the horrid path, with thorns o'erfpread. 
 Which DciHny condemn'd his feet to tread. 
 
 With the preceding encomium on the fpirit of this unfortunate officer 
 the Poet opens his 6th Canto. Thirteen of the mofl faithful foldlers 
 of Villagran, perceiving their Leader fallen motionlefs under the fury of 
 his enemies, make a defperate effort to preferve him. — Being placed 
 again on his horfe by thefe generous deliverers, he recovers from the 
 blow which had dunned him ; and by fmgular exertion, with the affift- 
 ance of his fpirlted little troop, effeds his efcape, and rejoins his main 
 army ; whom he endeavours in vain to lead back againfl the triumphant 
 Araucanians. The purfuit becomes general, and the Poet defcribes the 
 horrid maflacre committed by the Indians on all the unhappy fugitives-. 
 that fell into their hands. — The Spaniards in their jfllght are ftopt by a 
 narrow pafs fortified and guarded by a party of Indians.. Villagran 
 forces the rude entrenchment in perfon, and conducts part of his army 
 fafe through the pafs -, but many attempting other roads over the moun- 
 tainous country, are either loft among the precipices of the rocks, or 
 purfued and killed by the Indians. 
 
 CANTO VIL. 
 
 ' I ""HE remains of the Spanilh army, after infinite lofs and fatigue, 
 at laft reach the city of Concepcion. 
 
 Their entrance in thefe walls let fancy paint, 
 O'erwhelm'd with anguiih, and with labor faint : 
 
 Thefe
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 229 
 
 Thefe gafh'd with ghaftly wounds, thofe writh'd with pain. 
 And fome their human icmblance fcarce retain > 
 They feem unhappy fpirits 'fcap'd from hell. 
 Yet wanting voice their mifery to tell. 
 
 Their pangs to all their rolling eyes exprefs. 
 
 And filence mofl declares their deep dillrefs. 
 When wearinefs and iliame at length allow'd 
 
 Their tongues to fatisfy th' enq[uiring crowd. 
 
 From the pale citizens, amaz'd to hear 
 
 A tale furpalTing e'en their wildell: fear,. 
 
 One general found of lamentation rofe. 
 
 That deeply folemniz'd a nation's woes ; 
 
 The neighbouring manfions to their grief reply. 
 
 And- every wall return'd the mournfuL cry. 
 
 The inhabitants of Concepcion, expecfting every inflant the trium- 
 phant Lantaro at their gates, refolve to abandon their city. A gallant 
 veteran upbraids their cowardly defign. They difregard his reproaches, 
 and. evacuate the place i: — when the Poet introduces the following inftunce 
 of female heroifm :. 
 
 'Tis juft that Fame a noble deed difplay,. 
 Which claims remembrance, even to the day 
 When Memory's hand no more, the pen Ihall ufe. 
 But fink in darkncfs and her being lofe : 
 The lovely Mencia, an accomplilh'd Dame, 
 A valiant fpirit in a tender frame. 
 Here firmly fliew'd, as this dread fcene began. 
 Courage now found not in the heart of man. 
 The bed of ficknefs 'twas her chance to prefs ; 
 But when {he heard the city's loudjdiflrefs. 
 Snatching fuch weapons as the time allow'd. 
 She rufli'd indignant midll theflying crowd. 
 
 Now up the neighbouring hill they flowly wind. 
 And,. bending oft their mournful eyes behind, 
 
 Cal^
 
 2ro 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Caft a fad look, of every hope bereft. 
 
 On thofe rich plains, the precious home they left. 
 
 More poignant grief fee generous Mencia feel. 
 More noble proof ihe gives of patriot zeal : 
 Waving a fword in her heroic hand, 
 In their tame march flic ftopt the timid band; 
 Crofs'd the afcending road before their van. 
 And, turning to the city, thus began : 
 
 Thou valiant nation, whofe unequall'd toils 
 Have dearly purchas'd fame and golden fpoils. 
 Where is the courage ye fo oft difplay'd 
 Aeainft this foe, from w^hom ye flirink difmay'd f 
 Where thofe high hopes, and that afpiring flame. 
 Which made immortal praife your conftant aim ? 
 Where your firm fouls, that every chance defied. 
 And native ftrength, that form'd your noble pride ? 
 Ah vv^hither would you fly, in felfifli fear. 
 In frantic hafl:e, with no purfuer near ? 
 
 How oft has cenfure to your hearts aflign'd 
 Ardor too keenly brave and raflily blind; 
 Eager to dart amid the doubtful fray, 
 Scorning the ufeful aid of wife delay ? 
 Have we not feen you with contempt oppofe. 
 And bend beneath your yoke unnumber'd foes ; 
 Attempt and execute defigns fo bold. 
 Ye grew immortal as ye heard them told ? 
 
 Turn ! to your people turn a pitying eye. 
 To whom your fears thefe happy feats deny ! 
 Turn ! and furvey this fair, this fertile land, 
 Whofe ready tribute waits your lordly hand -, 
 Survey its pregnant mines, its fands of gold ; 
 Survey the flock now wandering from its fold, 
 Mark how it vainly feeks, in wild defpair. 
 The faithlefs fhepherd, who forfakes his care. 
 
 E'en the dumb creatures, of domeftic kmd. 
 Though not endow'd with man's difcerning mind, 
 lo 
 
 Now
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 2-21 
 
 Now {hew the femblance of a reafoning foul. 
 
 And in their mailers mifery condole : 
 
 The ftronger animals, of fterner heart. 
 
 Take in this public woe a feeling part ; 
 
 Their plaintive roar, that fpeaks their fenfe aright, 
 
 Juflly upbraids your ignominious flight. 
 
 Ye fly from quiet, opulence, and fame, 
 Purchas'd by valor, your acknowledg'd claim ; 
 From thefe ye fly, to feek a foreign feat. 
 Where daftard fugitives no welcome meet. 
 How deep the fhame, an abjed: life to fpend 
 In poor dependance on a pitying friend ! 
 Turn ! let the brave their only choice await,. 
 Or honourable life,, or inflant fate. 
 
 Return ! return ! O quit this path of fliame ! 
 Stain not by fear your yet unfuUied name; 
 Myfelf I offer, if our foes advance, 
 To rufh the foremoft on the hoflile lance ; 
 My adlions then fhall with my words agree. 
 And what a woman dares your eyes fliall fee. 
 Return ! return ! fhe cried; but cried in vain ;. 
 Her fire feem'd frenzy to the coward train. 
 
 The daftardly inhabitants of the city, unmoved by this remon- 
 ftrance of the noble Donna Mencia de Nidos, continue their pre- 
 cipitate flight, and, after twelve days of confuflon and fatigue, reach the 
 city of Santiago, in the valley of Mapocho. Lantaro arrives in the 
 mean time before the walls they had deferted : — and the Poet concludes 
 his canto with a fpirited defcription of the barbaric fury with which the 
 Indians entered the abandoned city, and deflroyed by lire the rich and. 
 magnificent manflons of their Spanifh oppreflbrs. 
 
 C AN^T O
 
 232 MOTES TO THE 
 
 L 
 
 CANTO VIII. 
 
 A N T A R O is recalled from his victorious exploits, to aflill; at a 
 general affembly of the Indians, in the valley of Arauco. The dif- 
 ferent Chieftains deliver their various fentiments concerning the war, 
 after their Leader Caupolican has declared his defign to purfue the 
 Spaniards with unceafing vengeance. The veteran Colocolo propofes a 
 plan for their military operations. An ancient Augur, named Puche- 
 calco, denounces ruin on all the projedls of his countrymen, in the 
 name of the Indian Daemon Eponamon. He recites the omens of their 
 dcfl:ru6lion. The fierce Tucapel, provoked to frenzy by this gloomy 
 prophet, flrikes him dead in the midft of his harangue, by a fudden 
 blow of his mace. Caupolican orders the murderous Chieftain to be 
 led to inftant death. He defends himfelf with fuccefs againft numbers 
 who attempt to feize him. Lantaro, pleafed by this exertion of his 
 wonderful force and valour, intreats the General to forgive what had 
 paiTed ; and, at his interceffion, Tucapel is received into favour. Lan- 
 taro then clofes the buiinefs of the affembly, by recommending the plan 
 propofed by Colocolo, and intreating that he may himfelf be entrufted 
 with a detached party of five hundred Indians, with which he engages 
 to reduce the city of Santiago. His propofal is accepted. The Chief- 
 tains, having finifhed their debate, declare their refolutions to their 
 people; and, after their ufual feftivity, Caupolican, with the main 
 army, proceeds to attack the city of Imperial. 
 
 CANTO IX. 
 
 'pHE Poet opens this Canto with an apology for a miracle, which he 
 
 thinks it neceffary to relate, as it was attefted by the whole Indian 
 
 army -, and, though it does not afford him any very uncommon or fub- 
 
 lime
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 233 
 
 lime imagery, he embellifhes the wonder he defcribes, by his eafy and 
 fpirited verfification, of which the following lines are an imperfed 
 copy : 
 
 When to the city's weak defencelefs wall 
 Its foes were ruihing, at their trumpet's call. 
 The air grew troubled with portentous found. 
 And mournful omens multiplied around ; 
 With furious fhock the elements engage. 
 And all the winds contend in all their rage. 
 
 From clafhing clouds their mingled torrents gufh, 
 And rain and hail with rival fury rufli. 
 Bolts of loud thunder, floods of lightning rend 
 The opening ikies, and into earth defcend. 
 
 O'er the vaft army equal terrors fpread; 
 No mind efcapes the univerfal dread ; 
 No breaft, tho' arm'd with adamantine power. 
 Holds its firm vigor in this horrid hour ; 
 For now the fierce Eponamon appears. 
 And in a Dragon's form augments their fears ; 
 Involving flames around the Daemon fwell. 
 Who fpeaks his mandate in a hideous yell : 
 He bids his votaries with hafte invert 
 The trembling city, by defpair depreft. 
 Where'er th' invading fquadrons force their way. 
 He promifes their arms an eafy prey. 
 Spare not (he cry'd) in the relentlefs ftrife. 
 One Spaniih battlement, one Chrifl:ian life ! 
 He fpoke, and, while the hofl his will adore. 
 Melts into vapour, and is feen no more. 
 
 Quick as he vanifh'd Nature's ftruggles ceafe ; 
 The troubled elements are footh'd to peace : 
 The winds no longer rage with boundlefs ire. 
 But, hufli'd in filence, to their caves retire : 
 The clouds difperfe, refloring as they fly 
 The unobflruded fun and azure fky ; 
 
 H h Fear
 
 234 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Fear only held its place, and ftill poilefl 
 Ufurp'd dominion o'er the boldeft breaft. 
 
 The tempeft ceas'd, and heaven, ferenely bright. 
 Array 'd the moiften'd earth in joyous light : 
 When, pols'd upon a cloud that fwiftly flew, 
 A Female form defcended to their view, 
 Clad in the radiance of fo rich a veil. 
 As made the fun's meridian luftre pale; 
 For it outlhone his golden orb as far 
 As his full blaze outfliines the twinkling ftar^ 
 Her facred features banifh all their dread. 
 And o'er the hoft reviving comfort flied. 
 An hoary Elder by her fide appear'd. 
 For age and findiity of life rever'd ; 
 And thus {he fpoke, with foft perfuafiVe grace :• 
 Ah ! whither rufli ye, blind devoted race ? 
 Turn, while you can, towards your native plain,. 
 Nor 'gain ft yon city point your arms in- vain ; 
 Vov God will guard his faithful Chriftian bandi 
 And give them empire o'er your bleeding land,. 
 Since, thanklefs, falfe, and obftinate in ill. 
 You fcom fubmiflion to his facred will. 
 Yet Ihun thofe walls ; th' Almighty, there ador'd-. 
 There arms his people with Dei^ruxflion's fword. 
 
 So fpoke the Vifion, with an angel's tongue, 
 And thro' the fpacious air to heaven fhe fprung» 
 
 The Indians, confounded by this miraculous interpofition, difperfe 
 in diforder to their feveral homes ; and the Poet proceeds very gravely 
 to athrm, that, having obtained the bell information, from many indi- 
 viduals, concerning this miracle, that he might be very exad in his ac- 
 count of it, he finds it happened on the twenty-third of April, four, 
 years before he wrote the verfes that defcribe it, and in th-e year of our 
 Lord 1554. The Vifion was followed by peftilenee and famine among 
 the Indians. They remain inadive during the winter, but aifemble 
 again the enfuing faring in the plains of Arauco, to renew the war^ 
 
 They
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 235- 
 
 Tliey receive intelligence that the Spaniards are attempting to rebuild 
 the city of Concepcion, and are requefted by the neighbouring tribes to 
 march to their affiftance, and prevent that defign. Lantaro leads a 
 chofen band on that expedition, hoping to furprize the fort the 
 Spaniards had eredted on the ruins of their city ; but the Spanidi com- 
 mander, Alvarado, being apprized of their motion, fallies forth to meet 
 the Indian party : a fkirmilh enfues ; the Spaniards retire to their fort ; 
 Lantaro attempts to ftorm it ; a mofl bloody encounter enfues ; Tu- 
 capel fignalizes himfelf in the attack ; the Indians perfevere with the 
 mofl obftinate valour, and, after a tong conflid (defcribed with a con- 
 liderable portion of Homeric fpirit) gain polTeffion of the fort ; Alvarado 
 and a few of his followers efcape j they are purfued, and much galled 
 in their flight : a Angle Indian, named Rengo, harraflcs Alvarado and 
 two of his attendants ; the Spanifh officer, provoked by the infult, 
 turns with his two companions to punilli their purfuer ; but the wily 
 Indian fecures himfelf on fome rocky heights, and annoys them with 
 his fling, till, defpairing of revenge, they continue their flight. 
 
 CANTO X. 
 
 np H E Indians celebrate their vidtory with public games ; and prizes 
 are appointed for fuch as excel in their various martial exercifes. Leu- 
 coton is declared vicftor in the contefl: of throwing the lance, and receives 
 a fcimitar as his reward. Rengo fubdues his two rivals, Cayeguan and 
 Talco, in the exercife of wrefliling, and proceeds to contend with Leu- 
 coton. After a long and fevere llruggle, Rengo has the misfortune to 
 fall by an accidental failure of the ground, but, fpringing lightly up, 
 engages his adverfary with increafing fury 3 and the canto ends without 
 deciding the contefl:. 
 
 H h 2 CANTO
 
 236 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 CANTO XL 
 
 T A N T A R O fcparates the two enraged antagonills, to prevent the 
 ill eiFeds of their wrath. The youth Orompello, whom Leucoton 
 had before furpaffed in the conteft of the lance, challenges his fuccefsful 
 rival to wreftle : they engage, and fall together : the vi<flory is difputed. 
 Tucapel demands the prize for his young friend Orompello, and infults 
 the General Caupolican. The latter is reftrained from avenging the 
 infult, by the fagc advice of the veteran Colocolo, at whofe requeft he 
 diftributcs prizes of equal value to each of the claimants. To prevent 
 farther animofitics, they relinquiih the reft of the appointed games, and 
 enter into debate on the war. Lantaro is again appointed to the com- 
 mand of a chofen troop, and marches towards the city of St. Jago. 
 The Spaniards, alarmed at the report of his approach, fend out fome 
 forces to reconnoitre his party : a fkirmifh enfues : they are driven back 
 to the city, and relate that Lantaro is fortifying a ftrong poft at fome 
 diftance, intending foon to attack the city. Villagran, the Spaniard 
 who commanded there, being confined by illnefs, appoints an officer of 
 his own name to fally forth, with all the forces he can raife, in queft of 
 the enemy. The Spaniards fix their camp, on the approach of night, 
 near the fort of Lantaro : they are fuddenly alarmed, and fummoned to 
 arms ; but the alarm is occafioned only by a fingle horfe without a rider, 
 which Lantaro, aware of their approach, had turned loofe towards their 
 camp, as an infulting mode of proclaiming his late vi(flory, in which he 
 had taken ten of the Spanifh horfes. 
 
 The Spaniards pafs the night under arms, refolving to attack the 
 Indians at break of day. Lantaro had iflued orders that no Indian 
 fhould fally from the fort under pain of death, to prevent the advan- 
 tage which the Spanifli cavalry muft have over his fmall forces in the 
 open plain. He alfo commanded his foldiers to retreat with an appear- 
 ance of difmay, at the firft attack on the fort, and fuffer a confiderable 
 iiumber of the enemy to enter the place. This ftratagem fucceeds : the 
 Spaniards ruih forward with great fury ; the Indians give ground, but„ 
 
 I foon
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 237 
 
 foon turning with redoubled violence on thofe who had pafled their 
 lines, deftroy many, and oblige the reft to fave themfelves by a preci- 
 pitate flight. The Indians, forgetting the orders of their Leader, in the 
 ardour of vengeance fally forth in purfuit of their flying enemy. 
 Lantaro recalls them by the found of a military horn, which he blows 
 with the utmoft violence. They return, but dare not appear in the 
 prefence of their offended Commander. He iflues new reftridions ; and 
 then, fummoning his foldiers together, addrefl^es them, in a fpirited, yet 
 calm and aflfedtionate harangue, on the ncceflity of martial obedience. 
 While he is yet fpeaking, the Spaniards return to the attack, but are 
 again repulfed with great lofs. They retreat, and encamp at the foot 
 of a mountain, unmolefted by any purfuers. 
 
 CANTO XIL 
 
 I 'T'HE Spaniards remain in their camp, while tv/o of their adveaturous 
 
 foldiers engage to return once more to the fort, and examine the 
 
 ' ftate of it. On their approach, one of them, called Marcos Vaez, is fa- 
 
 I luted by his name, and promifed fecurity, by a voice from witliin tJie 
 
 I walls. Lantaro had formerly lived with him on terms of friendfliip, 
 
 j and now invites him into the fort. The Indian Chief harangues on the 
 
 i refolution and the power of his countrymen to exterminate the Spa- 
 
 I niards, unlefs they fubmit. He propofes, however, terms of accommo- 
 
 ! dation to his old friend Marcos, and fpecifies the tribute he ihould ex- 
 
 ! ped:. The Spaniard anfwers with difdain, that the only tribute the 
 
 Indians would receive from his countrymen would be torture and death. 
 
 Lantaro replies, with great temper, that arms, and the valour of the re- 
 
 fpedtive nations, muft determine this point ; and proceeds to entertain 
 
 his gueft with a difplay of fix Indians, whom, he liad mounted and 
 
 trained to exercife on Spanifli horfes. The Spaniard challenges the 
 
 whole party : Lantaro will not allow him to engage in any conflid:, but 
 
 difmifles him in peace. He recalls him, before he had proceeded far from 
 
 the fort, and, telling him that his foldiers were much diftrefled by the 
 
 waat of proviflon, entreats him to fend a fupplv, affirming it to be true 
 
 heroifm
 
 238 NOTES TO THE 
 
 heroifin to relieve an enemy from the ncceffities of famine. The Spa* 
 niard fubfcribes to the fentiment, and engages, if poffible, to comply 
 ■with the requelt. Returning to his camp, he acquaints liis Commander 
 Vilhigran with all that had pafled j who, fufpeding iome dangerous 
 defign from Lantaro-, decamps haflily in the night to regain the city. 
 The Indian Chief is feverely mortified by their departure, as he had 
 formed a projedl for cutting off their retreat, by letting large currents of 
 water into the marihy ground on which the Spaniards were encamped. 
 Defpairing of being able to fucceed againft their city, now prepared to 
 refift him, he returns towards Arauco, moft forely galled by his difap- 
 pointment, and thus venting his anguifh : 
 
 What can redeem Lantaro's wounded name ? 
 What plea preferve his failing arms from fhame ? 
 Did not my ardent foul this talk demand, 
 Which now upbraids my unperforming hand ^ 
 On me, on me alone can cenfure fall ; 
 Myfelf th' advifer and the guide of all. 
 Am I the Chief who, in Fame's bright career, 
 Afk'd to fubdue the globe a fingle year ^ 
 
 While, at the head of this my glittering train, 
 I weakly threaten Spanifli walls in vain. 
 Thrice has pale Cynthia, with replenifli'd ray. 
 Seen my ill-order'd troop in loofe array ; ; 
 
 And the rich chariot of the blazing fun 
 Has from the Scorpion to Aquarius run. 
 At laft, as fugitives thefe paths we tread. 
 And mourn twice fifty brave companions dead. 
 Could Fate's kind hand this hateful flain efi-'ace. 
 Could death redeem me from this worfe difgrace. 
 My ufelefs fpear fliould pierce this abjedl heart. 
 Which has fo ill fuftain'd a foldier's part. 
 Unworthy thought ! the mean ignoble blow 
 Would only tempt my proud and vaunting foe 
 To boaft that I preferr'd, in fear's alarm. 
 My own weak weapon to his ftronger arm. 
 
 By
 
 239 
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 By Hell I fwear, who rules the fanguine flrife. 
 If Chance allow me yet a year of life, 
 I'll chafe thefe foreign lords from Chile's ftrand, 
 And Spanifh blood fliall faturate our land. 
 No changing feafon, neither cold nor heat. 
 Shall make the firmer ftep of War retreat ; 
 Nor fhall the earth, nor hell's expanding cave. 
 From this avenging arm one Spaniard fave. 
 
 Now the brave Chief, with folemn ardor, fvvore 
 To his dear native home to turn no more ; 
 From no fierce fun, no ftormy winds to fly. 
 But patiently abide the varying fky, 
 And fpurn all thoughts of pleafure and of eafe,. 
 Till refcu'd fame his tortur'd foul appeafe ; 
 Till earth confefs the brave Lantaro's hand 
 Has clos'd the glorious work his fpirit plann'd- 
 In thefe refolves the Hero found relief. 
 And thus relax'd the o'erftrain'd cord of grief ; 
 Whofe preiTure gall'd him with fuch mental pain,. 
 That frenzy almoft feiz'd his burning brain. 
 
 Lantaro continues his march into an Indian diftrid, from which he 
 I colleds a fmall increafe of force ; and, after addrefling his foldiers con- 
 cerning the expediency of ftrid: military difcipline, and the caufe of 
 I their late ill fuccefs, he turns again, towards the city of St. Jago 3 but, 
 1 receiving intelligence on his road of its preparations for defence, he 
 j again fufpends his defign, and fortifies a poil, which he chufes with the 
 \ hope of colledting ftill greater numbers to affifl him in his projected 
 I enterprize. The Spaniards at St. Jago are eager to fally in quell of 
 Lantaro, but their Commander Villagran was abfent on an expedition to 
 I tlie city of Imperial. In returning from thence he pafles near the pod 
 1 of Lantaro. An Indian ally acquaints him with its fituation, and, at 
 ! tlie earncfi: requefl of the Spaniih officer, agrees to condudc him, by a 
 I fhort though difficult road, over a mountain, to attack the fort by I'.ir- 
 I prize. The Poet fufpends his narration of this interciling event, to re- 
 ! late the arrival of new forces from Spain in America -, and he now be- 
 gins
 
 240 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 gins-to appear himfelf on the field ofadion. ** Hitherto," fays he, *'I have 
 defcribed the fcenes in wliich I was not prefent ; yet I have colledled 
 my information from no partial witnelTes, and I have recorded only 
 t]\ofe events in wliich both parties agree. Since it is known that I have 
 .^hed fo much blood in fupport of what I affirm, my future narration 
 will be more authentic; for I now fpeak as an ocular witnefs of every 
 adlion, unblindcd by partiality, which I difdain, and refolved to rob no 
 one of the praife which he deferves," 
 
 After pleading his youth as an apology for the defeils of his ftyle, and 
 after declaring that his only motive for writing was the ardent delire to 
 preferve fo many valiant actions from periihing in oblivion, the Poet 
 proceeds to relate the arrival of the Marquis de Canete as Viceroy in 
 Peru, and the fpirited manner in which he corre<5ted the abufes of that 
 country. The canto concludes with reflections on the advantages of 
 lovnltv, and the miferies of rebellion. 
 
 CANTO XIII. 
 
 CPANJSH deputies from the province of Chile implore alTiftance from 
 the new Viceroy of Peru : he fends them a confiderable fuccour, un- 
 der the conduct of Don Garcia, his fon. The Poet is himfelf of this 
 band, and relates the fplendid preparations for the enterprize, and the 
 embarkation of the troops in ten veilels, which fail from Lima towards 
 the coaft of Chile. Having defcribed part of this voyage, he returns to 
 the bold exploit of Villagran, and the adventures of Lantaro, the moit 
 interefting of all the Araucariian Heroes, whom he left fecuring himfelf 
 in his fequeftered fort. 
 
 A path where watchful centinels were fpread, 
 A fingle path, to this lone ftation led : 
 No other ligns of human ftep were trac'd ; 
 For the vex'd land was defolate and wafte. 
 It chanc'd that night the noble Chieftain prefl 
 His anxious miftrefs to his gallant breaft, 
 
 The
 
 T H I R D E P I S T L E. 241 
 
 The fair Guacolda, for whofe charms he burn'd. 
 And whofe warm heart his faithful love return'd. 
 That night beheld the warlike favage reft. 
 Free from th' incumbrance of his martial veft ; 
 That night alone allow'd his eyes to clofe 
 In the deceitful calm of fliort repofe : 
 Sleep preft upon him like the weight of death j 
 But foon he ftarts, alarm'd, and gafps for breath. 
 The fair Guacolda, with a trembling tongue. 
 Anxious enquires from whence his anguiih fprung. 
 
 My lovely Fair ! the brave Lantaro cries. 
 An hideous vifion ftruck my fcornful eyes : 
 Methought that inftant a fierce Chief of Spain 
 Mock'd my vain fpear with infolent difdaln ; 
 His forceful arm my failing powers o'ercame. 
 And ftrength and motion feem'd to quit my frame. 
 But ftill the vigor of my foul I keep, 
 And its keen anger burft the bonds of ileep. 
 
 With quick defpair, the troubled Fair one fiid, 
 Alas ! thy dreams confirm the ills I dread. 
 
 'Tis come — the object of my boding fears ! 
 
 Thy end, the fource of my unceafing tears. 
 
 Yet not fo wretched is this mournful hour. 
 
 Nor o'er me. Fortune, canft thou boaft fuch power. 
 
 But that kind death may fhorten all my woes. 
 
 And give the agonizing fcene to clofe. 
 
 Let my ftern fate its cruel rage employ. 
 
 And hurl me from the throne of love and joy ; 
 
 Whatever pangs its malice may devife. 
 
 It cannot rend afledtion's ftrongcr ties. 
 
 Tho' horrible the blow my fears forefee, 
 
 A fecond blow will fct my fpirit free; 
 
 For cold on earth thy frame lliall ne'er be found. 
 
 While mine v/ith ufelefs being loads the ground. 
 The Chief, tranfported with her tender charms, 
 
 Clofely around her neck entwin'd his arms ; 
 
 I i And,
 
 242 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 And, while fond tears her fnowy bread bedew'd. 
 Thus with redoubled love his fpeech purfu'd : 
 
 My generous Fair, thy gloomy thoughts difmifs ; 
 Nor let dark omens interrupt our blifs. 
 And cloud thefe moments that with tranfport fhine. 
 While my exulting heart thus feels thee mine. 
 Thy troubled fancy prompts my mutual figh j 
 Not that I think the hour of danger nigh : 
 But Love fo melts me with his foft controul, 
 Impoffibilities alarm my foul. 
 If thy kind wifhes bid Lantaro live. 
 Who to this frame the wound of death can give ? 
 Tho' 'gainft me all the powers of earth combine. 
 My life is fubjecfl to no hand but thine. 
 Who has reflor'd the Araucanian name. 
 And rais'd it, finking in the depths of fhame. 
 When alien lords our nation's fpirit broke. 
 And bent its neck beneath a fervile yoke ? 
 I am the Chief who burfl our galling chain. 
 And freed my country from oppreffive Spain ; 
 My name alone, without my fword's difplay. 
 Humbles our foes, and fills them with difmay. 
 Thefe happy arms while thy dear beauties fill, 
 I feel no terror, I forefee no ill. 
 Be not by falfe and empty dreams deprefl:. 
 Since truth has nothing to afflidl thy breafl:^. 
 Oft have I 'icap'd, inur'd to every flate. 
 From many a darker precipice of fate ; 
 Oft in fir mightier perils rilk'd my life. 
 And iffucd glorious from the doubtful flrife. 
 
 With IciT'ning confidence, and deeper grief. 
 Trembling flie hung upon the foothing Chief, 
 His lip with fupplicating foftnefs preft. 
 And urg'd with many a tear this fond requeft ; 
 
 If the pure love, which, prodigal and free, 
 "When freedom moil was, mine, I gave to thee ;
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 243 
 
 If truth, which Heaven will witnefs and defend. 
 Weigh with my fovereign lord and gentle friend ; 
 By thefc let me adjure thee ; by the pain 
 Which at our parting pierc'd my every vein. 
 And all the vows, if undifpers'd in air, 
 Which then with many a tear I heard thee fwcar 5 
 To this my only wifli at leaft agree. 
 If all thy willies have been laws to me : 
 Hafte, I entreat thee, arm thyfelf with care. 
 And bid thy foldiers for defence prepare. 
 
 The brave Barbarian quick reply'd — 'Tis clear 
 How low my powers are rated by thy fear. 
 Canft thou fo poorly of Lantaro deem ? 
 And is this arm fo funk in thy eftecm ? 
 This arm, which, refcuing thy native earth. 
 So prodigally prov'd its valiant worth ! 
 In my try'd courage how complete thy truft, 
 Whofe terror v/eeps thy living lord as duft ! 
 
 In thee, flie cries, with confidence moft pure. 
 My foul is fatisfy'd, yet not fecure. 
 What will thy arm avail in danger's courfe. 
 If my malignant fate has mightier force ? 
 But let the mis'ry I forebode arifc; 
 On this firm thought my conflant love relies : 
 The fword whofe ftroke our union may disjoin, 
 Will teach my faithful foul to follow thine. 
 Since my hard deftiny, with rage fevere. 
 Thus threatens me with all that love can fear -, 
 Since I am doom'd the worfl of ills to fee. 
 And lofe all earthly good in lofing thee ; 
 O ! fuffer me to pafs, ere death appears. 
 The little remnant of my life in tears ! 
 The heart that finks not in diilrefs like this. 
 Could never feel, could never merit blifs. 
 
 Here from her eyes fuch floods of forrow flow, 
 Compaflion weeps in gazing on her woe ! 
 
 I i 2 The
 
 244- 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 The fond Lantaro, tho' of firmeft power. 
 Sheds, as fhe fpeaks, a fympathetic fhower. 
 But, to the tender fcenes of love unus'd. 
 My artlcls pen, embarrafs'd and confus'd. 
 From its lad talk with diffidence withdraws. 
 And in its labour alks a little paufe* 
 
 CANTO XIV. 
 
 TX/HAT erring wretch, to Truth and Beauty bUn(J, 
 
 Shall dare to llitirize the Female kind. 
 Since pure alfedtion prompts their anxious care,. 
 Their lovely weaknefs, and their fond defpair ? 
 This fair Barbarian, free from Chril^Lin ties,. 
 A noble proof of perfe(5t love fupplies. 
 By kindeft words, and floods of tears that rolt 
 1-^rom the clear fource of her impaffion'd foul. 
 
 The chearing ardor of the dauntlefs Chief 
 Fails to afford her troubled mind relief; 
 Nor can the ample trench and guarded wall 
 Preferve her doubtful heart from fear's enthrall ;; 
 Her terrors, rufhing w^ith love's mighty force, 
 Level whatever would impede their courfe. 
 She finds no Ihelter from her cruel doom. 
 Save the dear refuge of Lantaro's tomb. 
 
 Thus their two hearts, where equal paffion reign'd. 
 A fond debate with tender ftrife maintain'd ; 
 Their differing words alike their love difplay,. 
 Feed the fweet poifon, and augment its fway.. 
 
 The llcepy foldiexs now their flories clofe. 
 And ftretch'd around their finking fiVes repofe.. 
 The path in front with centinels v/as lin'd, 
 Axid the high mountain was their guard behind ; 
 
 I. BhV
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 
 
 But o'er that mountain, with advent'rous tread. 
 Bold Villagran his filent forces led. 
 
 His hafly march w' .v painful toil he made ; 
 
 Toil is the price nat mufl for fame he paid. 
 
 Now near th^ rt, and halting in its fight. 
 
 He waits the -oming aid of clearer light. 
 
 The ftars yet fhining, but their fires decay. 
 
 And now the reddening eaft proclaims the day. 
 
 Th* advancing troop no Indian eye alarms. 
 
 For friendly darknefs hover'd o'er their arms ; 
 
 And on the quarter where the mountain rofe. 
 
 The carckfs guard defpis'd the thought of foes. 
 
 No panting horfe their ftill approach betray'd ; 
 
 Propitious Fortune lent the Spaniards aid ; 
 
 Fortune, who oft bids drowfy Sloth beware. 
 
 And lulls to fleep the watchful eye of Care. 
 When Night's obfcure dominion firft declines. 
 
 And glimmering light the dufky air refines. 
 
 The weary guards, who round the wall were plvic'd, 
 
 Hail the new day, and from their ftation haflc ; 
 
 Secure of ill, no longer watch they keep. 
 Quick to forget their nightly toils in fleep : 
 Thro' all the fort there reign'd a calm profound ; 
 In wine and flumber all its force was drown'd. 
 
 The Spani ill Chief, who faw the fav'ring hour. 
 Led on by flow degrees his filent power.. 
 No Indian eyes perceiv'd his near advance ; 
 Fate feem'd to bind them in a cruel trance;. 
 Each in found flumber draws his eafy breath. 
 Nor feels his flumber will be clos'd by Death. 
 So blind are mortals to that tyrant's fway. 
 They deem- him diftant, while they fmk his prey. 
 
 Our eager foldiers now no longer halt, 
 Vv''hile kind occafion prompts the keen aflault ; 
 A /hout they raifc, terrific, loud, and long, 
 Swell'd by the voice of all the ardent throng; 
 
 ^5 
 
 Whofe
 
 246 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 Whofe ranks, obedient to their Leader's call, 
 Ru/li with light ardor o'er th' unguarded wall, 
 And gain the fort, where Sleep's oppreflive weight 
 Expos'd his wretched victims, blind to fate. 
 
 As villains, confcious of their life impure. 
 Find in their guilty courfe no fpot fecure 3 
 For vice is ever doom'd new fears to feel. 
 And tremble at each turn of Fortune's wheel ; 
 At every noife, at each alarm that ftirs. 
 Death's penal horror to their mind occurs ; 
 Quick to their arms they fly with wild difniay. 
 And rufli where hafty terror points the way : 
 So quick the Indians to the tumult came. 
 With deep and valour ftruggling in their frame. 
 Unaw'd by danger's unexpected fight. 
 They roufe their fellows, and they rufh to fight. 
 Tho' their brave bofoms are of armour bare. 
 Their manly hearts their martial rage declare. 
 No furious odds their gallant fouls appall. 
 But relolute they fly to guard the wall. 
 
 It was the feafon when, with tender care, 
 Lantaro reafon'd with his anxious Fair ; 
 Carcft, confol'd, and, in his anger kind. 
 Mildly reprov'd her weak miflrufcing mind. 
 Spite of his chearing voice fhe trembles ftill 3 
 Severer terrors now her bofom fill : 
 For fterner founds their foft debate o'ercome, 
 Drown'd in the rattle of th' alarming drum. 
 But not fo quick, on Apprehenfion's wings. 
 The wretched mifer from his pillow fprings. 
 Whole hoarded gold forbids his mind to reft. 
 If doubtful noife the nightly thief fuggeft : 
 Nor yet fo hafty, tho' with terror wild. 
 Flies the fond mother to her wounded child, 
 Whofe painful cry her fhuddering foul alarms. 
 As flew Lantaro at the found of arms. 
 
 His
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 247 
 
 His mantle rapidly around him roll'd. 
 
 And, grafping a light fword with hafty hold. 
 
 Too eager for his heavier arms to wait. 
 
 The fierce Barbarian hurried to the gate. 
 
 O faithlefs Fortune ! thou deceitful friend ! 
 
 Of thy falfe favours how fevere the end ! 
 
 How quick thou canceH'fl:, when thy frown appears, 
 
 Th' dCcumuLited gifts of long triumphant years ! 
 
 To aid the Spaniards in their bold emprize. 
 Four hundred Indians march'd, their firm allies, 
 Who on the left their line of battle clofe. 
 And hafle to combat with their painted bows ; 
 Launching adroitly, in their rapid courfe, 
 Unnumb<Ji'd arrows with unerring force. 
 As brave Lantaro ifTued from his tent, 
 A fhaft to meet the fallying Chief was fent ; 
 Thro' his left fide (ye valiant, rnourn his lot !) 
 Flew the keen arrow, with fuch fury fliot 
 It pierc'd his heart, the braveil and the befl: 
 That e'er was lodg'd within a human breafl. 
 Proud of the flroke that laid fuch valor low. 
 Death feem'd to glory in th' important blov/ ; 
 And, that no Mortal might his triumph claim. 
 In darknefs hid the doubtful Archer's name. 
 Such force the keen refiftlefs weapon found. 
 It flretch'd the mighty Chieftain on the ground. 
 And gave large outlet to his ardent blood. 
 That gufh'd apace in a tumultuous flood. 
 From his funk cheek its native colour fled -, 
 His fightlefs eyes roll'd in his ghaflly head ; 
 His foul, that felt its glorious hopes o'erthrown, 
 Retir'd, indignant, to the world unknown. 
 
 The noble favages, not difmayed by the death of their Leader, continue 
 to defend the fort with great fury. 
 
 CANTO
 
 -4? NOTE S 1' O T PI E 
 
 C A N T O XV, 
 
 '■^T^ H E Poet opens this canto with a lively panegyric on Love : he 
 affirms that the greateil: Poets have derived their glory from their 
 vivid delcriptions of this enchanting paffion ; and he laments that he is 
 precluded hy his fubjedt from indulging his imagination in fuch fcenes 
 as are more likely to captivate a reader. 
 
 He feems to intend this as an apology (but I muft own it is an un- 
 ifitisfadiory one) for deferting the fair Guacolda, whom he mentions 
 no more. He proceeds to defcribe the Iharp contefi: which the undaunted 
 Indians Hill maintained in their fort : — they refufe quarter, which is of. 
 fered them by the Spanifh Leader, and all refohitely peridi with the 
 brave and beloved Lantaro. The Poet then refumes his account of the 
 naval expedition from Peru to Chile ; and concludes the canto with a 
 fpirited defcription of a florm, which attacked the veflels as they arrived 
 in fight of the province to which they were fleering. 
 
 CANTO XVI. 
 
 *' I ^ H E itorm abates. The Spaniards land, and fortify themfelves on 
 an ifland near the country of the Araucanians. The latter hold a 
 council of war in the valley of Ongolmo. Caupolican, their General, 
 propofes to attack the Spaniards in their new poft. The elder Chieftains 
 dilniade him from the defign. A quarrel enfues between Tucapel and i| 
 the aged Peteguelcn : — they are appeafed by a fpeech of the venerable 
 Colocolo ; by whofe advice a fpirited and adroit young Indian, named 
 Millalanco, is difpatched, as a peaceful ambaffador, to learn the fitua- 
 tion and defign s of the Spaniards. He embarks in a large galley with , 
 oars, and foon arrives at the illand. He furveys the Spanilh implements ■ 
 of war with aftonilhment, and is conduced to the tent of the General, 
 Don Garcia. 
 
 CANTO
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 249 
 
 CANTO XVII. 
 
 np H E Indian addrellcs the Spanifli officers with a propofal of pcacc 
 and amity. lie is difmiiTed with prefents. The Chieftains, on 
 his return, pretend to relinquirti hoftilities ; but prepare fecretly for 
 war. The Spaniards remain unmolefled on the illand during the (lormy 
 feafon. They fend a icltO: party of a hundred and thirty, including our 
 ^Poet, to raifc a fort on the continent : thefe execute their commifTion 
 with infinite difpatch, and all the Spanifli troops remove to this new 
 poft. The Araucanians are alarmed. An intrepid Youth, named Gra- 
 colano, propofes to the Indian General, Caupolican, to ftorm the fort. 
 The Indians advance near it, under flicker of the night. The Poet de- 
 I fcribes himfclf, at this jundure, as opprefled by tlie exceflive labours of 
 the day, and unable to purfue his poetical ftudies according to his nightly 
 cuflom : the pen fldls from his hand : he is feized with violent pains 
 I and tremblings : his flrength and fenfes forlake him : but foon reco- 
 : vcring from this infirmity, he enjoys a rcfrefliing lleep. Bcllona appears 
 I to him in a vifion, and encourages him both as a foldier and a poet. 
 i She condudls him, through a delicious country, to the fummit of a nioft 
 I lofty mountain ; when, pointing to a fpot below, ihe informs him it is 
 j St. Quintin, and that his countrymen, under the command of their 
 fovereign Philip, are juft marching to attack it : flie adds, that her pre- 
 j fence is neceflary in the midft of that important fcene ; and leaves the 
 j Poet on the eminence to furvey and record the battle. 
 
 CANTO XVIII. 
 
 A' 
 
 FTER the Poet has defcribed the fuccefs of his royal mafler at 
 St. Quintin, a female figure of a moft venerable appearance, but 
 without a name, relates to him prophetically many future events of 
 I great importance to his country. She touches on the difturbances in the 
 
 K k Netherlands,
 
 250 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 Netherlands, the enterprizes of the Turks, and the exploits of Don 
 John of Auftria, at that time unknown to fame. Thefe fhe hints very 
 imperfedtly, telling the Poet, that if -he wifhes for farther information,, 
 he mufl: follow the fleps of a tame deer, which he v/ill find in a parti- I 
 cular fpot ; this animal will lead him to the cell of an ancient hermit, 
 formerly a foldier, who will condud him to the fecret cave of the unfo- 
 cial Fiton, a mighty magician, who will difplay to him the mofl: mira- 
 culous vifions. His female Indrudor then advifes him to mix fofter 
 fubjccSts with the horrors of war, and to turn his eyes and his thoughts 
 to the charms of the many Beauties who then flouriflied in Spain. He 
 beholds all thefe lovely fair ones alTembled in a delicious paradife ; and 
 he is particularly attracted by a young lady, whofe name he difcovers to 
 be Donna Maria Bazan (his future wife) : in the moment that he be- 
 gins to queftion his Guide concerning this engaging Beauty, he is roufed || 
 from his vifion by the found of an alarm. He fnatches up his arms, and I 
 hurries to his poft : — while tlie morning dawns,, and the Indians begin. " 
 to attack the fort- 
 
 es A N T O XIX. 
 
 I 
 
 HE Indians advance in three iquadrons. The Youth Gracolano? U 
 o'erleaps the trench, fupported on a lofty pike, by which he alfo * 
 paffes the wall. He defends himfelf in the midft of the Spaniards with- 
 great fpirit > but, finding himfelf unfupported, he wrenches a lance from 
 a Spanifli foldier,. and tries to leap once more over the trench -, but he 
 is flruck by a flone while vaulting through the air, and falls, covered, 
 as the Poet exprefsly declares, with two-and-thirty wounds. Some of 
 his friends are ihot near him ; but the Indians get pofTefiion of the Spa- 
 niih lance with which he had fprung over the wall, and brandifh it. in. \M 
 triumph. The Spaniard^ named Elvira,, who had loft his weapon,. |l 
 piqued by the adventure, fallies from the fort, and returns, amid the ■" 
 fhouts of his countrymen,, with an Indian fpear which he won in fingle 
 combat from a Barbarian, whom lie had perceived detached from his 
 5 party.
 
 T'H I R D EPISTLE. i^^ 
 
 party. The Indians attempt to ilorm the fort on every iidc : many arc 
 deftroyed by the Spaniih fire-arms. The head of the ancient Peteguelcn 
 is fliot oifj but Tucapel pafTes the wall, and rufhes with great flaughter 
 into the midft of the enemy. The Spaniards who were in the (hips that 
 anchored near the coafl haften on fhore, and march to aflift their coun- 
 trymen in the fort, but are attacked by a party of Indians in their 
 march. The conflid: continues furious on the walls; but the Indians 
 at length retreat, leaving Tucapel ftill fighting within the fort. 
 
 CANTO XX. 
 
 'TpUCAPEL, though feverely wounded, efcapes with life, and re- 
 joins the Indian army, which continues to retreat. The Spaniards 
 fally from the fort, but foon return to it, from the apprehenfion of an 
 ambufcade. They clear their trench, and Ihcngthen the weaker parts 
 df their fortification. Night comes on. The Poet delcribes himfelf 
 ftationed on a little eminence in the plain below the fort, which was 
 \ feated on high and rocky ground : — fatigued with the toils of the day, and 
 opprefied by the weight of his armour, which he continues to wear, he 
 I is troubled with a lethargic heavinefs ; which he counteracts by exercife, 
 I declaring that his difpofition to flumber in his poll; arofe not from any 
 I intemperance either in diet or in wine, as mouldy bifcuit and rain- 
 water had been for fome time his chief fultcnance ; and that he was 
 I flccuftomed to make the moid earth his bed, and to divide his time 
 I between his poetical and his military lai)ours. He then relates the fol- 
 lowing nofturnal adventure, which may perhaps be confidcred as the 
 moil llriking and pathetic incident in this fingul.ir poem : 
 
 While thus I flrove my nightly watch to keep. 
 And llruggled with th' oppreflive weight of lleep, 
 As my quick feet, with many a filcnt ih'ide, 
 . Travers'd th' allotted ground from fide to fide, 
 My eye perceiv'd one quarter of the plain 
 White with the mingled bodies of the llain ^ 
 
 K k 2 r or
 
 252 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 For our incelTant fire, that bloody day. 
 
 Had flaughter'd numbers in the flubborn fray. 
 
 As oft I paus'd each diftant noife to hear. 
 Gazing around me with attentive ear, 
 I heard from time to time a feeble found 
 Towards the breathlefs Indians on the ground. 
 Still clofing with a figh of mournful length ; 
 At every inter\'al it gather'd ftrength ; 
 And now it ceas'd, and now again begun. 
 And ftill from corfe to ccrfe it feem'd to run. 
 As night's encreafing fliade my hope deftroys. 
 To view the fource of this uncertain noife. 
 Eager my mind's unquiet doubts to ftill. 
 And more the duties of my poft fulfil,. 
 With crouching fteos I ha{le,-and eameil eves. 
 To the lov/ fpot from whence the murmurs rife -, 
 And fee a dufky Form, that feems to tread 
 Slow, on four feet, among the gory dead. 
 
 With terror, that my heart will not denv. 
 When this {Iranj^e vilion ftruck mv doubtful eve. 
 Towards it,, with a prayer to Heav'n, I prelt. 
 Arms in my hand, my coritlet on my breaft j 
 But now the duiky Form, on which I iprung. 
 Upright ar&ie, and fpoke with plaintive tongue ;; 
 
 Mercy !" to mercy hear my juil pretence y 
 I am a woman, guiltlefs of offence ! 
 If my diftrcfi, and unexampled plight. 
 No generous pity in thy breail excite ; 
 If thy blood -thirfty rage, by t^ars uncheck'd. 
 Would pajs thofe limits which the brave refpe(9: ; 
 Will fuch a deed encreafe thy martial fame. 
 When Heaven's jufl voice £haH to the world procIaim>^ 
 That by thy ruthlefs fword a woman died, 
 A widow, funk in IJbrrow's deepcll tide ? 
 Yet I implore thee, if 'twas haply thine. 
 Or for thy curfe, as now I feel it mine ^ 
 
 II
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 253 
 
 If e'er thy lot, in any ilate, to prove 
 
 How firm the faithful ties of tender love, 
 
 O let me bury one brave warrior ilain,' 
 
 Whofe corfe lies blended with this breathlefs train ! 
 
 Remember, he who thwarts the duteous will 
 
 Becomes th' approver and the caufe of ill. 
 
 Thou wilt not hinder thefe my pious vows; 
 War, fiercell war, this juil demand allows : 
 The bafell; t}Tanny alone is driven 
 To ufe the utmofl power that chance has given. 
 Let but my foul its dear companion find. 
 Then fate thy fury, if to blood inclin'd ; 
 For in fuch grief I draw my lingering breath. 
 Life is my dread,, beyond the pangs of death. 
 There is no ill that now can wound my breall. 
 No good, but what I in my Love polleii : 
 Fly then, ye hours ! that keep me from the dead ; 
 For he, the fpirit of my life, is fied-. 
 If adverfe Heaven my lateii wiili deny,. 
 On his dear corle to fix my clofing eye. 
 My tortur'd foul, in cruel Fate's defpight,. 
 Will foar, the faithful partner of his flight. 
 
 And now her agony of heart implor'd 
 An end of all her forrows from my fword. 
 Doubt and diilrufl: my troubled mind alTail, 
 That fears deceit in her afieding tale ; 
 Nor was I fully of her faith fecure. 
 Till oft her words the mournful truth infure ; 
 Sufpicion whifper'd, that an artful fpy 
 Bv this illufion might our ftate defcry. 
 
 Howe'er inclin'd to doubt, yet foon I knew. 
 Though night conceal'd her features from mv view, 
 That truth was llamp'd on every word ihe faid ; 
 So full of grief, fo free from guilr^^ dread : 
 And that bold love, to even.- danger blind. 
 Had fent her forth her flaughter'd Lord to fiiid,. 
 
 Who,.
 
 254 H O T E 5 TO THE 
 
 Who, in the onfet of our bloody llrife^ 
 For brave diftindion facrific'd his life* 
 
 Fill'd with companion, when I fiw her bent 
 To execute. her challe and fond intept, 
 I led her weeping to the higher fpot. 
 To guard whofe prccinds was that night my lot j 
 Securely there"! begg'd her to relate 
 The perfcdl ftory of her various fate j 
 From firll to laft her touching woes impart> 
 And by the talc relieve her loaded heart. 
 
 Ah ! llie replied, relief I ne'er can know. 
 Till Death's kind aid fliall terminate my woe \ 
 Earth for my ills no remedy fupplies, 
 Beyond all fuff' ranee my afflictions rife : 
 Vet, though the taik will agonize my foul. 
 Of my fad ftory I will tell the whole; 
 Grief, thus inforc'd, my life's weak thread may rend, 
 And in the killing tale my pangs may end. 
 
 The fair Indian then relates to Ercilla the particulars of her life, in a 
 fpeech of conliderable length : — flie informs him, that her name is Te^ 
 giialda ; — that flie is the daughter of the Chieftain Brancol;-— that her fa^ 
 ther had often prefied her to marry, which Hie had for fome time declined, 
 though folicited by many of the nobleli Youths in her country ; till, 
 being appointed, in compliment to her beauty, to diftribute the prizes, 
 in a fcene of public fellivity, to thofe who excelled in the manly exer- 
 cifes, (he was flruck by the accomplidiments of a gallant Youth, named 
 Crepino, as (he beftowed on him the reward of his vidtories ;-^that (he 
 declared her choice to her father, after perceiving the Youth infpired 
 with a mutual aitedion for her ; — that the old Chieftain was delighted by 
 her chufing fo noble a charader, and their marriage had been publicly 
 folemnized but a month from that day. On this conclufion of her ilory, 
 Ihe burlls into new agonies of grief, and intreats Ercilla to let her pay 
 •her laft duties to her huiband ; or rather, to unite them again in a com- 
 mon grave. Ercilla endeavours to confole her, by repeated promifes of 
 all the alliftance in his power. In the moft paflionate excefs of forrow, 
 
 Ihe
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 255 
 
 fhe ftill entreats him to end her miferable life. — In this diilrefling fcene, 
 our Author is relieved by the arrival of a brother officer, who had been 
 alfo Rationed on the plain, and now informs Ercilla that the time of 
 their appointed watch is expired. They join in comforting the unhappy 
 Mourner, and conduct her into the fort ; where they confjgn her, for the 
 remainder of the night, to the decent care of married women, to ufe the 
 chafte expreffion of the generous and compaffionate Ercilla. 
 
 CANTO XXI. 
 
 1 
 
 N pure affedlion who has foar'd above 
 The tender pious proof of faithful love,. 
 
 Which thus awak'd our fympathetic care 
 
 For this unhappy, fond, barbarian Fair ? 
 
 O that juft Fame my humble voice would raife 
 
 To fwell in loudeft notes her lafting praife ! 
 
 To fpread her merits, in immortal rhyme. 
 
 Through every language, and through every clime ! 
 With. pitying females fhe the night remain'd. 
 
 Where no rude flep their privacy profan'd ; 
 
 Though wretched,, thankful for their foothing aid^./ 
 
 With hopes her duty would at length be paid. 
 Soon as the welcome light of morning came. 
 
 Though foundeft deep had feiz'd my jaded frame. 
 
 Though my tir'd limbs were ftill to reft inclin'd. 
 
 Solicitude awak'd my anxious mind. 
 
 Quick to my Indian Mourner I repair,. 
 
 And ftill in tears I find, the reftlefs Fair 5 
 
 The varying hours afford her. no relief. 
 
 No tranfient momentary paufe of grief. 
 
 With trueft pity I her pangs afTuage; 
 
 To find her flaughter'd Lord my word engage y 
 
 Reftore his corfe, and, with a martial band,, 
 
 Efcort her fafely to her native land. 
 
 With.
 
 56 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 With blended doubt and ibrrow, weeping flill. 
 My promis'd word (he pray'd me to fulfil. 
 
 AlTcmbling now a menial Indian train^ 
 I led her to explore the bloody plain : 
 Where heaps of mingled dead deform'd the ground, 
 Near to the fort the breathlel's Chief we found 3 
 Clay-cold and ftiff, the gory earth he preft, 
 A fatal ball had pafs'd his manly breafl. 
 
 Wretched Tegualda, who before her view'd 
 The pale disfigur'd form, in blood imbru'd. 
 Sprung forward, and with inflantaneous force 
 Frantic flie darted on the precious corfe. 
 And prefs'd his lips, where livid death appears. 
 And bath'd his wounded bofom in her tears. 
 And kifs'd the wound-, and the wild hope purfues 
 That her fond breath may yet new life infufe. 
 
 Wretch that I am ! at length fhe madly cried, 
 Why does my foul thefe agonies abide ? 
 Why do I linger in this mortal flrife. 
 Nor pay to Love his jult demand, my life ? 
 Why, poor of fpirit ! at a fingle blow 
 Do I not clofe this bitter fcene of woe ? 
 Whence this delay ? will Heaven to me deny 
 The wretch's choice and privilege, to die ? 
 
 While, bent on death, in this defpair flie gafp'd. 
 Her furious hands her fnowy neck inclafp'd 5 
 Failing her frantic wifli, they do not fpare 
 Her mournful vifage nor her flowing hair. 
 Much as I itrove to flop her mad intent. 
 Her fatal purpofe I could fcarce prevent : 
 So loath'd Ihe life, and with fuch fierce controul 
 The raging thirfl: of death inflam'd her foul. 
 
 When by my prayers, and foft perfualion's balm. 
 Her pangs 6f forrow grew a little calm. 
 And her mild fpeech confirm'd my hope, at lafl, 
 That her delirious agony was pafl. 
 
 My
 
 T H I R D E P I S T L E. -57 
 
 My ready Indian train, with duteous haftc. 
 
 On a firm bier the clay-cold body plac'd. 
 
 And bore the Warrior, in whofe fate we griev'd, 
 
 To where her vaflals the dear charge receiv'd. 
 
 But, left from ruthlefs War's outrageous fway 
 
 The mourning Fair might fufFer on her way. 
 
 O'er the near mountains, to a fafer land, 
 
 I march'd to guard her with my warlike band i 
 
 And there fecure, for the remaining road 
 
 Was clear and open to her own abode. 
 
 She gratefully declin'd my firther care. 
 
 And thank'd and blefs'd me in a parting prayer. 
 
 As I have been tempted to dwell much longer than I intended on 
 [ fome of the moil: pathetic incidents of this extraordinary poem, I Ihall 
 
 ^ive a more concife fummary of the remaining cantos. On Ercilla's 
 
 return, the Spaniards continue to ftrengthen their fort. They receive 
 [ intelligence from an Indian ally, that the Barbarian army intend a frefh 
 I ail'ault in the night. They are relieved from this alarm by the arrival 
 1 of a large reinforcement from the Spanifli cities in Chile :— on which 
 I event Colocolo prevails on the Indians to fufpend the attack. Caupo- 
 \ lican, the Indian General, reviews all his forces _; and the various Chief- 
 j tains are well defcribed. The Spanish Commander, Don Garcia, being 
 ! now determined to march into the hoilile diflriift of Arauco, addrefles 
 ! his foldiers in a fpirited harangue, requeuing them to remember the 
 I pious caufe for which they fight, and to fpare the life of every Indian 
 I who is difpofed to fubmiffion. They remove from their pofl, and pafs 
 I in boats over the broad river Biobio. 
 
 CANTO XXII. 
 
 *X^HE Spaniards are attacked in their new quarters — a furious battle 
 enfues. The Spaniards are forced to give ground, but at laft pre- 
 
 vaiK The Indian Chief, Rengo, fignalizes himfelf in the acftion ; de- 
 i fends himfelf in a marfh, and retreats in good order with his forces. 
 ! L 1 The
 
 ^^8 NOTES TO THE 
 
 The Spaniards, after the conflia, feize an unhappy ftraggling Youth,, 
 named Galvarino, whom they punifh as a rebel in the moft barbarous 
 manner, by cutting off both his hands. The valiant Youth defies their 
 cruelty in the midil of this horrid fcene ; and, brandifliing his bloody 
 flumps, departs from his oppreflbrs with the mofl infulting menaces of 
 revenge. 
 
 CANTO XXIIL 
 
 /^ALVARINO appears in the AiTembly of tlie Indian Chieftains,, 
 and excites them, in a very animated fpeech, to revenge the barba- 
 rity with which he has been treated. He faints from lofs of blood, in 
 the clofe of his harangue, but is recovered by the care of his friends, 
 and reftored to health. The Indians, exafperated by the fight of his 
 wounds, unanimoufly determine to profecute the war. The Spaniards, 
 advancin'^ in Arauco, fend forth fcouts to difcover the difpofition of the 
 neighbouring tribes. Ercilla, engaging in this fervice, perceives an old 
 Indian In a fcqueftcred fpot, apparently finking under the infirmities of 
 age J but, on his approach, the ancient figure flies from him with afto- 
 nifhing rapidity. He endeavours in vain, though on horfeback, to 
 overtake this aged fugitive, who foon efcapes from his fight. He now 
 difcovers the tame Deer foretold in his vifion ; and, purfuing it, is con- 
 duded through intricate paths to a retired cottage, where a courteous 
 old man receives him in a friendly manner. Ercilla enquires after the 
 Magician FIton : the old man undertakes to guide him to the fecret 
 manfion of that wondertul Necromancer, to whom he declares himfelf 
 related. He adds, that he himfelf was once a difiringuiflied warrior ; but,, 
 having the misfortune to fully his pafc glory, without lofing his life, 
 in a conflict v/ith another Chieftain, he had withdrawn himfelf from 
 fociety, and lived twenty years as a hermit. He now leads Ercilla 
 through a gloomy grove to the cell of the Magician, whofe refidence 
 and magical apparatus are defcribcd with great force of imagination. 
 Fiton appears from a fecret portal, and proves to be the aged figure 
 who had efcaped fo fwiftly from the fight of Ercilla. At the requefl of 
 
 hi^
 
 T H I R D E P I S T L E. 259 
 
 his relation, the old Warrior, he condefcends to (hew Ercllla the won- 
 ders of his art. He leads him to a large lucid globe, felf-fufpended in 
 the middle of an immenfe apartment. He tells him it is the work of 
 forty years ftudy, and contains an exadl reprefentation of the world, 
 with this fmgular power, that it exhibits, at his command, any fcene of 
 futurity which he wifhes to behold : — that, knowing the heroic compo- 
 fition of Ercilla, he will give him an opportunity to vary and embellifh 
 his poem by the defcription of a mofl important fea-light, which he will 
 difplay to him moft diftindtly on that fphere. He then invokes all the 
 powers of the infernal world. Ercilla fixes his eye on the globe, and 
 perceives the naval forces of Spain, with thofe of the Pope and the 
 Venetians, prepared to engage the great armament of the Turks. 
 
 CANTO XXIV. 
 
 "PX ESCRIBES circumflantially the naval battle of Lepanto, and ce- 
 lebrates the Spanifli admiral, Don John of Aufliria. Ercilla gazes 
 with great delight on this glorious ad:ion, and beholds the complete 
 triumph of his countrymen ; when the Magician flrikes the globe with 
 his wand, and turns the fcene into darknefs. Ercilla, after being enter- 
 tained with other marvellous fights, which he omits from his dread of 
 prolixity, takes leave of his two aged friends, and regains his quarters. 
 The Spaniards continue to advance : on their pitching their camp in a 
 new fpot, towards evening, an Araucanian, fantaftically drefl: in armour, 
 enquires for the tent of Don Garcia, an 1 is conducted to his prefence. 
 
 CANTO XXV. 
 
 'T^HE Araucanian delivers a defiance to Don Garcia, in the name of 
 
 Caupolican, who challenges the Spanifli General to end the war 
 
 by a fingle combat. The meflenger adds, that the whole Indian army 
 
 will defcend into the plain, on the next m.orning, to be fpecSators of the 
 
 L 1 2 duel.
 
 460 NOTES TO THE 
 
 duel. Don Garcia diimifTes him with an acceptance of the challenge. 
 At the dawn of day the IndFan forces appear in three divifions. A party 
 of Spanifh horfe 'precipitately attack their left wing, before which 
 Caupolican ^vas advancing. They are repulfed. A general and obftinate 
 mgagcment cnfues. The mangled Galvarino appears at the head of one 
 Indian fquadron, and excites his countrymen to revenge his wrongs. 
 Manv Spaniards are named who diftinguidi themfelves in the battle. 
 Among the Indian Chiefs Tucapel and Rengo difplay the moft fplendid 
 acts of valour ; and, though perfonal enemies, they mutually defend 
 each other. Caupolican alfo, at the head of the left fquadron, obliges. 
 the Spaniards to retreat j and the Araucanians are on the point of gain- 
 ing a decifiv« vi^ory, when the fortune of the day begins to turn.. 
 
 CANTO XXVL 
 
 nPHE refervcd guard of the Spaniards, in which Ercilla was Rationed,. 
 
 advancing to the charge, recover the field, and oblige the main body 
 
 of the Indians to fly. Caupolican, though victorious in his quarter, 
 
 founds a retreat when he perceives this event. The Indians fly in great 
 
 diforder, Rengo for fome time fuftains an unequal conflidt, and at laft 
 
 retreats fuUenly into a wood, where he colledls feveral of the fcattered 
 
 fugitives. As Ercilla happened to advance towards this fpot, a 
 
 Spaniard, called Remon, exhorts him by name to attempt the dangerous 
 
 but important exploit of forcing this Indian party from the wood. His 
 
 honour being thus piqued, he rufhes forward with a few followers,. 
 
 and, after an obftinate engagement, in which many of the Indians are 
 
 xut to pieces, the Spaniards obtain the victory, and return to their camp 
 
 with feveral prifoners. After this great defeat of the Indian army, the 
 
 Spaniards, to deter their enemies from all future refinance, barbaroully 
 
 rcfolve to execute twelve Chieftains of diilindion, whom they iind 
 
 among their captives, and to leave their bodies expofed on the trees that 
 
 furiounded the field of battle. The generous Ercilla, lamenting this 
 
 inhuman fentence, intercedes particularly for the life of one, alledging 
 
 i that
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 261 
 
 that he had feen him united with the Spaniards. This perfon proves to 
 be Galvarino ; who, on hearing the interceflion for his life, produces his 
 mangled arms, which he had concealed in his bofom, and, giving vent 
 to his deteilation of the Spaniards, infifts on dying with his country- 
 men. Ercilla perfifts in vain in his endeavour to fave him. As no 
 executioner could be found among the Spaniili foldiers, a new mode of 
 deftrudion, fays our Poet, was invented ; and every Indian was ordered 
 to terminate his own life by a cord which was given him. Thefe brave 
 men haftened to accompliHi their fate with as much alacrity, continues 
 Ercilla, as the moft fpirited warrior marches to an attack. One alone 
 of the twelve begins to hefitate, and pray for mercy ; declaring himfelf 
 the lineal defcendant of the moft ancient race and fovereign of the 
 country. He is interrupted by the reproaches of the impetuous Galva- 
 rino, and, repenting his timidity, atones for it by inllant death. 
 
 The Spaniards advance ftill farther in the country, and raife a fort where 
 Valdlvia had perilhed. Ercilla finds his old friend the Magician once 
 more, who tells him that Heaven thought proper to punifli the pride 
 of the Araucanians by their late defeat ; but that the Spaniards would 
 foon pay dearly for their prefent triumph. The Wizard retires after 
 this prophecy, and, with much intreaty, allows Ercilla to follow him. 
 Coming to a gloomy rock, he flrikes it with his wand ; a fecret door 
 opens, and they enter into a delicious garden, which the Poet commends 
 for its fymmetry, expreisly declaring that every hedge has its brother. 
 The Magician leads him into a vault of alabafter; and, perceiving his 
 v/ifh, though he does not exprefs it, of feeing the miraculous globe 
 again, the courteous Fiton conduces him to it. 
 
 CANTO XXVII. 
 
 np H E Magician difplays to our Poet the various countries of the 
 globe ; particularly pointing out to him the ancient caftle of 
 Ercilla, the feat of his anceftors in Bifcay, and the fpot where his fove- 
 reign Philip the Second was foon to build his magnificent palace, the 
 Efcurial. Having ihewn him the various nations of the earth on his. 
 marvellous fphere, Fiton conducts his guefi; to the road leading to the 
 
 Spaniih
 
 262 N O T E S T O THE 
 
 Spanifh camp, where the fuldicrs of Ercilla were feeking their o.*cer. 
 The Spaniards in vain attempt to footh and to terrify the Araucanians 
 into peace ; and, finding the importance of their prefent pod, they de- 
 termine to ftrcngthen it. Ercilla proceeds with a party to the city of 
 Imperial, to provide neceffaries for this purpofe. On his return, as he 
 is marching through the country of fome pacific Indians, he difcovers, 
 at the clofe of day, a diflreft female, who attempts to fly, but is over- 
 taken by Ercilla. 
 
 CANTO XXVIII. 
 
 npHE fliir fugitive, whom our Poet defcribes as Angularly beautiful, 
 relates her flory. She tells him her name is Glaura, the daughter 
 of an opulent Chieftain, with whom fhe lived moft happily, till a bro- 
 ther of her father's, w^ho frequently refided with him, perfecuted her 
 with an unwarrantable pafTion j — that (lie in vain reprefented to him the 
 impious nature of his love ^ — he perfifled in his frantic attachment, and, 
 on the appearance of a hoftile party of Spaniards, rufhed forth to die in 
 her defence, intreating her to receive his departing fpirit. He fell in 
 the adion ; her father fliared the fame fate : fhe herfelf efcaped at a 
 poftern gate into the woods. Two negroes, laden with fpoil, difcovered, 
 and feized her. Her cries brought a young Indian, named Cariolano, to 
 her refcue : he fliot an arrow into the heart of the firft ruffian, and 
 ilabbed the fecond. Glaura expreffed her gratitude by receiving her 
 young deliverer as her hufband. Before they could regain a place of 
 lafety, they were alarmed by the approach of Spaniards. The generous 
 Youth intreated Glaura to conceal herfelf in a tree, while he ventured to 
 meet the enemy. In her terror fhe fubmitted to this expedient, which, 
 on recovery from her panic, fhe bitterly repented; for v/hen fhe ifiued 
 from her retreat, fhe fought in vain for Cariolano, and fuppofcd, from 
 the clamour fhe had heard, that he mufl have periilied. She continued 
 to wander in this wretched flate of mind, flill unable to hear any tidings 
 of her protestor. While the fair Indian thus clofes her narrative, lEr- 
 cilla is alarmed by the approach of a large party of Barbarians. One of 
 his faithful Indian attendants, whom he had lately attached to him, 
 
 3 intreats
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 263 
 
 intreats him to efcape with the utmoft hafle ; adding, that he can fave 
 him from purluit by his knowledge of the country ; and that he will 
 rifque his own life moft willingly, to preferve that of Er cilia. Glaura 
 burfts into an agony of joy, in difcovering her loft Cariolano in this 
 faithful attendant. Ercilla exclaims, " Adieu, my friends ; I give you 
 ** both your liberty, which is all I have at prefent to beftow," and rejoins 
 his little troop. Before he enters on the account of what followed, he 
 relates tiie circumftance Ly which he attached Cariolano to his fervice ^ 
 whom he had found alone, as he himfelf was marching with a fmall 
 party, and a few prifcners that he had taken. The Youth at firft de- 
 fended himfelf, and fliot two Spaniards with his arrows, and continued 
 to refift the numbers that prelTed upon him, with his mantle and his 
 dagger evading their blows by his extreme agility, and wounding fe- 
 veral. Ercilla generoufly rufhed in to his refcue, and declared he de- 
 ferved a reward for his uncommon bravery, inftead of being deftroyed fo 
 unfairly. The Youth, in confequence of this treatment, flung down his 
 dagger, and became the affedlionate attendant of Ercilla. Our Poet, 
 after relating this incident, returns to the fcene where his party was 
 furprized ' in a hollow road, and feverely galled by the enemy, who 
 attacked them with (howers of ftones from the higher ground. Ercilla 
 forces his way up the precipice, and, after difperling part of the Indian 
 force, effeds his efcape with a few followers ; but all are wounded, and 
 obliged to leave their baggage in the pofTeflion of their numerous. 
 
 'to 
 
 enemies. 
 
 O 
 
 CANTO XXIX. 
 
 PENS with an encomium on the love of our country, and the 
 fignal proofs of this virtue which the Araucanians difplayed ; who, 
 notwithftanding their lofs of four great battles in the fpace of three 
 months, ftill continue firm in their refolution of defending their liberty. 
 Caupolican propofes, in a public aflembly, to fet fire to their own habi- 
 tations, and leave themfclves no alternative, but that of killing or being 
 killed. The Chieftains all agree in this defperate determination. Tu- 
 
 caoel ^
 
 i 
 
 E 
 
 capcl, betbre they pruccu U) action agairift the paniards, infifls on teN 
 minating his ditierence with Rengo, a rival Ciiieftain, by a fingle com- 
 bat. A plain is appointed lor this purpofe : all the people of Arauco 
 alVcmble as fpedators : the Chiefs appear in complete armour, and en- 
 gage in a moll obdinate and bloody conflid:. 
 
 CANTO XXX. 
 
 AFTER many dreadful wounds on each fide, the two Chieftains, 
 clofing with each other, fall together, and, after a fruitlefs ftruggle 
 for vidlory, remain fpeechlefs on the ground. Caupolican, who prefided 
 as judge of the combat, defcends from his feat, and, finding fome figns 
 of life in each, orders them to be carried to their refpedive tents. They 
 recover, and are reconciled. The Spaniards, leaving a garrifon in their 
 new fort, under a captain named Reynofo, had proceeded to the city of 
 Imperial. Caupolican endeavours to take advantage of this event. He 
 employs an artful Indian, named Pran, to examine the ftate of the fort. 
 Pran infinuates himfelf among the Indian fervants belonging to the 
 Spaniards. He views the fort, and endeavours to perfuade a fervile 
 Indian, named Andrefillo, to admit Caupolican and his forces while 
 the Spaniards are lleeping. Andrefillo promifes to meet Caupolican in 
 fecret, and converfe with him on this projeft. 
 
 CANTO XXXI. 
 
 /^PENS with a fpirited invedive againfl treachery in war, and par- 
 ticularly thofe traitors who betray their country. Andrefillo reveals 
 all that had paiTed to his Spanifli captain ; who promifes him a great 
 reward if he will affift in making the ilratagem of the Indians an inftru- 
 ment of deftrudtion to thofe who contrived it. They concert a plan for 
 this purpofe. Andrefillo meets Caupolican in fecret, and promifes to 
 
 introduce
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 265 
 
 introduce the Indian forces into the fort when the Spaniards are llcep- 
 ing, in the heat of the day. Pran is fent forward, to learn from 
 Andrefillo if all things are quiet, juft before the hour appointed for the 
 affault. He examines the flate of the fort, and, finding the Spaniards 
 apparently unprepared for defence, hail:ens back to the Indian General, 
 who advances by a quick and filent march. The Spaniards in the in- 
 terim point all their guns, and prepare for the mofc bloody re- 
 fiftance. 
 
 CANTO XXXII. 
 
 FTER a panegyric on clemency, and a noble cenfure of thofe enor- 
 mous cruelties, by which his countrymen fullied their military 
 fame, the Poet relates the dreadful carnage which enfued as the Indians 
 approached the fort. The Spaniards, after deftroying numbers by their 
 artillery, fend forth a party of horfe, who cut the fugitives to pieces. 
 They inhumanly murder thirteen of their moil diftinguifhed prifoners, 
 by blowing them from the mouths of cannon : but none of the con- 
 federate Chieftains, whom the Poet has particularly celebrated, were 
 included in this number ; for thofe high-fpirited Barbarians had refufed 
 to attend Caupolican in this aflault, as they confidered it as difgraceful 
 to attack their enemies by furprize. The unfortunate Indian Leader, 
 feeing his forces thus unexpectedly maffacred, efcapes with ten faithful 
 foUov/crs, and wanders through the country in the moil calamitous 
 condition. The Spaniards endeavour, by all the means they can devife, 
 to difcover his retreat : the faithful inhabitants of Arauco refufe to be- 
 tray him. 
 
 Ercilla, in fearching the country with a fmall party, finds a young 
 wounded female. She informs him, that marching with her hulband, 
 ilie had the misfortune of feeing him perifli in the late Ilaughter ; — that a 
 friendly foldier, in pity to her extreme diftrefs, had tried to end her 
 miferable iife in the midfl of the confufion, but had failed in his 
 generous defign, by giving her an ineifed:ual wound ; — that flie had been 
 rem^oved from the field of battle to that fequeilered fpot, where fhe lan- 
 
 M m guiflied
 
 266 NOTES TO THE 
 
 guiflied In the hourly hope of death, which flie now implores from the 
 hand of Ercilla. Our Poet confoles her; drelTes her wound, and leaves 
 one of his attendants to proted her. On his return to the fort, he dif- 
 courfcs to his foldicrs in praife of the fidelity and fpirit difplayed by the 
 Indian females, comparing them to the chaile and conftant Dido. A 
 young foldier of his train exprefles his furprize on hearing Ercilla com- 
 mend the Carthaginian Queen for a virtue to which, he conceived, flie 
 had no pretence. From hence our Poet takes occaiion to vindicate 
 the injured Eliza from the flanderous mifreprefentation of Virgil ^ and 
 flatters himfelf that the love of juftice, fo natural to man, v/ill induce 
 every reader to liilen with pleafure to his defence of the calumniated 
 Queen. He then enters on her real hifiory, and relates circumftantially 
 her lamentation over the murdered Sichasus, and the artifice by which 
 (lie efcaped with her treafures from her inhuman brother Pygmalion : — flie 
 engages many of his attendants to fliare the chances of her voyage ; and, 
 having colledled a fupply of females from the ifland of Cyprus, ilie di- 
 redts her courfe to the coaft of Africa. 
 
 CANTO XXXIII. 
 
 D 
 
 I DO, as our Poet continues her more authentic Jl or y^ purchafes her 
 dominion and raifes her flourifliing city. The ambafiadors of lar- 
 bas arrive at Carthage, to offer this celebrated Queen the alternative of 
 marriage or war. The Senate, who are firfi: informed of the propofal, 
 being fearful that the chafte refolutions of their fair Sovereign may 
 ruin their country, attempt to engage her, by a fingular device, to 
 accept the hand of larbas. They tell her, that this haughty Monarch 
 has fent to demand twenty of her privy counfellors to regulate his king- 
 dom J and that, in confideration of their age and infirmities, they mufl 
 decline fo unpleafant a fervice. The Queen reprefents to them the dan- 
 ger of their refufaj, and the duty which they owe to their country; 
 declaring, that Ihe would moft readily facrifice her own life for the fafety 
 or advantage of her fubjeds. The Senators then reveal to her the real 
 
 demand
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. ^6; 
 
 demand of larbas, and urge the necellity of her marriage for the prefer- 
 vation of the ilatc. The faithful ,Dido knows not what to refolve, and 
 demands three months to confider of this delicate and important point : 
 — at the clofe of that period, flie aflembles her fubjefts i and, taking 
 .leave of them in a very affecflionate harangue, declares her refolution to 
 die, as the only means by which flie can at once fatisfy both Heaven 
 and earth, by difcharging her duty to her people, and at the fame 
 time preferving her faith inviolate to her departed SichiEus. In- 
 voking his name, llie plunges a poniard in her breafl; and throws 
 herfelf on a flaming pile, which had been kindled for a dilTerent facrifice. 
 Her grateful fubjec^s lament her death, and pay divine honours to her 
 memory. ** This * (fays our Poet) is the true and genuine ftory of 
 the famous defamed Dido, whofe moil honoured chafliity has been belied 
 by the inconfiderate Virgil, to embellifh his poetical fidions." 
 
 Our Poet returns from this digreffion on Dido, to the fate of the Indian 
 Leader Caupolican. — One of the prifoners, whom the Spaniards had 
 taken in their fearch after this unfortunate Chief, is at laft tempted by 
 bribes to betray his General. He condufts the Spaniards to a fpot near 
 the fequeftered retreat of Caupolican, and direds them how to difcover 
 it ; but refufes to advance with them, overcome by his dread of the 
 Hero whom he is tempted to betray. The Spaniards furround the houfe 
 in which the Chieftain had taken refuge with his ten faithful aflbciates. 
 Alarmed by a centinel, he prepares for defence ; but being foon wounded 
 in the arm, furrenders, endeavouring to conceal his high charader, and 
 to make the Spaniards believe him an ordinary foldier. 
 
 With their accuflom'd fhouts, and greedy toil. 
 Our furious troops now riot in their fpoil ; 
 
 * Efte es el cierto y verdadero cuento, 
 De la famofa Dido disfamada 
 Que Virgilio Maron fin miramlento 
 Falfeo fu hiftoria y caftidad preciada 
 For dar a fus ficciones ornamcnto 
 Pues vemos que efta Reyna importunada 
 Pudiendofe cafar y no quemarfe 
 Antes quemarfe qui fo, que cafarfc, 
 
 M m 2 Through
 
 268 NOTESTOTHE 
 
 Through the lone village their quick rapine fpread. 
 
 Nor leave unpillag'd e'en a fingle flied : 
 
 When, from a tent, that, plac'd on fafer ground. 
 
 The neif^hbouring hill's uncultur'd fummit crown'd, 
 
 A wom:in rufh'd, who, in her ha% flight. 
 
 Ran through the rougheft paths along the rocky height. 
 
 A Negro of our train, who mark'd her way. 
 
 Soon made the haplefs fugitive his prey ; 
 
 For thwarting crags her doubtful fheps impede. 
 
 And the fair form was ill prepar'd for fpeed ; 
 
 For at her breaft fhe bore her huddled fon ; 
 
 To fifteen months the infant's life had run : 
 
 From our brave captive fprung the blooming boy. 
 
 Of both his parents the chief pride and joy.. 
 
 The Negro carelefsly his vidim brought. 
 
 Nor knew th' important prize his hafte had caught. 
 
 Our foldiers now, to catch the cooling tide. 
 Had lallied to the murmuring river's fide : 
 When the unhappy Wife beheld her Lord, 
 His ftrong arms bound with a difgraceful cord, 
 Stript of each enfign of his pafi: command. 
 And led the pris'ner of our ihouting band ; 
 Her anguifh burfi: not into vain complaint. 
 No female terrors her firm foul attaint -, 
 But, breathing fierce difdain, and anger wild. 
 Thus flie exclaim'd, advancing with her child : 
 
 The ftronger arm that in this fhameful band 
 Has tied thy weak effeminated hand. 
 Had nobler pity to thy ftate expreft 
 
 If it had bravely pierc'd that coward breaft. • 
 
 Wert thutf the warrior whofe heroic worth 
 So fwiftly flev/- around the fpacious earth, 
 Whofe name alone, unaided by thy arm. 
 
 Shook the remoteft clime with fear's alarm ? I 
 
 Wert thou the victor whofe triumphant ftrain i! 
 
 Promis'd with rapid fword to vanquifh Spain ; 
 
 To
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 26$^ 
 
 To moke new realms Arauco's power revere. 
 
 And fpread her empire o'er the Ardtic fphere ? 
 
 Wretch that I am ! how was my heart deceiv'd. 
 
 In all the noble pride with which it heav'd. 
 
 When through the world my boafbed title ran, 
 
 Trefia, the wife of great Caupolican ! 
 
 Now, plung'd in mifery from the heights of fame,. 
 
 My glories end in this detefted fhame. 
 
 To fee thee captive in a lonely fpot. 
 
 When death and honour might have been thy lot ! 
 
 Vv'hat now avail thy fcenes of happier flrife. 
 So dearly bought by many a nobler life ; 
 The wondrous feats, that valour fcarce believ'd. 
 By thee with hazard and with toil atchiev'd ? 
 Where are the vaunted fruits of thy command. 
 The laurels gather'd by this fetter'd hand ? 
 All funk ! all turn'd to this abhorr'd difgrace. 
 To live the flave of this ignoble race ! 
 Say, had thy foul no ftrength, thy hand no lance. 
 To triumph o'er the fickle pow'r of chance ? 
 Doft thou not know, that, to the Warrior's narne^ 
 A gallant exit gives immortal fame ? 
 
 Behold the burthen which my bread contains. 
 Since of thy love no other pledge remains ! 
 Hadft thou in glory's arms relign'd thy breath. 
 We both had folio w'd thee in joyous death : 
 Take, take thy fon ! he was a tie moft dear. 
 Which fpotlefs love once made my heart revere ; 
 Take him ! — by generous pain, and wounded pride. 
 The currents of this fruitful breall are dried : ' 
 
 Rear him thyfelf, for thy gigantic frame. 
 To woman turn'd, a woman's charge may claim : 
 A mother's title I no more defire. 
 Or fhameful children from a fhameful lire ! 
 
 As thus fhe fpoke, with growing madnefs jftung^- 
 The tender. nurfling from her arms flie flung 
 
 With
 
 2^0 K O T E S T O T H E 
 
 With favagc fury, hafl'ning from our fight, 
 While anguifh feem'd to aid her rapid flight. 
 Vain were our efforts j our indignant cries. 
 Nor o^cntle prayers, nor angry threats, fuffice 
 To make her breaft, where cruel frenzy burn'd. 
 Receive the little innocent flie fpurn'd. 
 
 The Spaniards, after providing a nurfe for this unfortunate child, 
 return with their prifoner Caupolican to their fort, which they enter in 
 triumph. 
 
 The Indian General, perceiving that all attempts. to conceal his qua- 
 lity are ineffectual, defircs a conference with the Spanilli Captain Rey- 
 ■nofo. 
 
 C A N T O XXXTV, 
 
 /^AU FOLIC AN entreats Reynofo to grant his life, but without 
 any figns of terror. He aflirms it will be the only method of ap- 
 peafing the fanguinary hatred by which the contending nations are 
 inflamed ; and he oflers, from his great influence over his country, to in- 
 troduce the Chrifliian woriliip, and to bring the Araucanians to confider 
 themfclves as the fubjedts of the Spanifli Monarch. His propofals are 
 rejected, and he is fentenced to be impaled, and fliot to death with ar- 
 rows. He is unappall'd by this decree; but firfl; defires to be publicly 
 baptized : after which ceremony, he is inhumanly led in chains to a 
 fcaftbld. He difplays a calm contempt of death -, but, on feeing a 
 wretched Negro appointed his executioner, his indignation burils forth, 
 and he hurls the Negro from the fcaffold, entreating to die by a more 
 honourable hand. His horrid fentence is however executed. He fup- 
 ports the agonies of the flake with patient intrepidity, till a chofen band 
 of archers put a period to his life. 
 
 Our brave Ercilla exprefles his abhorrence of this atrocious fcenej 
 and adds, that if he had been prefent, this cruel execution fhould not 
 have taken place. 
 
 The confequence of it was fuch as Caupolican foretold : — the Arau- 
 canians determine to revenge his death, and aflemble to eledl a new Ge- 
 
 2r neral.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. zji 
 
 neral. The Poet makes an abrupt tranfition from their debate, to relate 
 the adventures of Don Garcia, with whom he was himfelf marching ta 
 explore new regions. The inhabitants of the diflridls they invade,, 
 alarmed at the approach of the Spaniards, confult on the occalion. An 
 Indian, named Tunconabala, v/ho had ferved under the Araucanians, 
 addrefles the affembly, and recommends to them a mode of eluding the 
 fuppofed avaricious defigns of the Spaniards, by fending meifengers to 
 them, who fhould aflume an appearance of extreme poverty, and repre- 
 fent their country as barren, and thus induce the invaders to turn their 
 arms tov/ards a different quarter. He offers to engage in this fervice 
 himfelf. The Indians adopt the project he recommends, and remove 
 their valuable effed'S to the interior parts of their country. 
 
 CANTO XXXV. 
 
 ON GARCIA being arrived at the boundaries of Chile, which 
 no Spaniard had paiTed, encourages his foldiers, in a fpirited ha- 
 rangue, to the acquilition of the new provinces which lay before them. 
 They enter a rude and rocky country, in which they are expofed to 
 many hazards by their deceitful guides. Tunconabala meets them, as 
 he had projected, witli the appearance of extreme poverty ; and, after 
 many affurances of the fterility of that region, advifes them to return, 
 or to advance by a different path, which he reprefcnts to them as dan- 
 gerous, but the only practicable road. On finding them refolved to 
 prefs forward, he fupplies them with a guide. They advance, with 
 great toil and danger. Their guide efcapes from them. They continue 
 their march, through various hardfhips, in a defolate region. They at 
 length difcover a fertile plain, and a large lake with many little inha-i 
 bited iflands. As they approach the lake, a large gondola, with twelve 
 oars, advances to meet them : the party it contained leap afhore, and 
 lalute the Spaniards with exprefTions of amity. 
 
 CAN lro^
 
 27^ N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 CANTO XXXVI. 
 
 ^T^HE young Chieftain of the gondola fupplies the Spaniards with 
 provifions, refufing to accept any reward : and our Poet celebrates 
 all the inhabitants of this region, for their amiable fimplicity of man- 
 ners. He vifits one of the principal iflands, where he is kindly enter- 
 tained. He difcovers that the lake had a communication with the fea, 
 by a very rough and dangerous channel : this circumflance obliges the 
 Spaniards, though reludant, to return. They lament the neceffity of 
 palTing again through the hardilnps of their former road. A young In- 
 dian undertakes to conduclt them by an eafier way. But our adventu- 
 rous Ercilla, before the little army fet forth on their return, engages ten 
 chofen aflbciatcs to embark with him in a fmall veflel, and pafs the dan- 
 gerous channel. He lands on a wild and fandy fpot, and, advancing 
 half a mile up the country, engraves a ftanza, to record this adventure, 
 on the bark of a tree. He repafles the channel, and rejoins the Spanifli 
 troops j who, after much difficulty, reach the city of Imperial. Our 
 Poet then touches on fome particulars of his perfonal hiftory, which I 
 jiiention in the flight fketch of his life. He afterwards promifes his 
 reader to relate the iflue of the debate among the Araucanian Chieftains, 
 on the election of their new General ; but, recolleding in the inftant 
 that Spain herfelf is in arms, he entreats the favour of his Sovereign to 
 infpire him with nev/ fpirit, that he may devote himfelf to that higher 
 ;and more interefting fubjcdt. 
 
 CANTO XXXVII. 
 
 AAUR Poet, in this his Iuxl canto, feems to begin a new work. He 
 enters into a difcuiTion of Philip's right to the dominion of Portu- 
 gal, and his acquifition of that kingdom ^ when, fluking under the weight 
 of this new fubjed:, he declares his refolution of leaving it to fome hap- 
 pier Poet. He recapitulates the various perils and hardfliips of his own 
 life, and, remarking that he has ever been unfortunate, and that all his 
 labours are imrewarded, he confoles himfelf with the reflexion, that 
 
 honour
 
 TiH I R 1> E P >I S T X, &. 27^ 
 
 honour confifts not in the poffeffion of rewards, but in the confcioufnefs 
 of having deferved tHem. He concludes \^ith a pious refolution to 
 withdraw himfelf from the vain purfuits of the world, and to devote 
 hlmfelf to God. 
 
 NOTE XI. Vekse 280. 
 
 At once the Bard of Glory and of Love.] The Epic powers of 
 Camoens hav-e received their due honour in our language, by the elegant 
 and fpirited tranflation of Mr. Mickle ^ but our country is ftill a 
 ftranger to the lighter graces and pathetic fweetnefs of his fliorter com- 
 pofitions. Thefe, as they are illuftrated by the Spanifh notes of his 
 indefatigable Commentator, Manuel de Faria, amount to two volumes 
 in folio. I fhall prefent the reader with a fpecimen of his Sonnets, 
 for which he is celebrated as the rival of Petrarch. Of the three tranf- 
 lations which follow, 1 am indebted for the two firft to an ingenious 
 friend, from whom the public may wifh me to have received more ex- 
 tenlive obligations of a fimilar nature. It may be proper to add, that 
 the firft Sonnet of Camoens, like that of Petrarch, is a kind of preface 
 to the amorpus poetry of its authpr. 
 
 Nn SONETO
 
 274 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 S O N E T O I. 
 
 T7 M quanto quis Fortuna que tivefTe 
 Efperanca de algum contentamento, 
 O goflo de hum luave penlamento 
 Me fez que feus effeytos efcrevelleJ 
 
 Porem temendo Amor que avifo defle 
 Minha efcritura a algum juizo ifento, 
 Efcureccome o engenho co' o tormento. 
 Para que feus enganos nao diifefle 
 
 O vos, que amor obriga a fer fogeytos 
 A diverfas vontades ! quando lerdes 
 Num breve livro cafes tao diverfos ; 
 
 Verdades puras fao, 6c nao defeytos. 
 Entendey que fegundo o amor tiverdes, 
 Tircis o entendimento de meus verfos. 
 
 S O N E T O XIX. 
 
 A LMA minha gen til, que te partifte 
 Tao cedo defta vida defcontente, 
 Repoufa la no ceo eternamente, 
 E viva eu ca na terra fempre trifte. 
 
 Se la no aifento etereo, onde fubifte, 
 Memoria defta vida fe confente,. 
 Nao te efque^as de aquelle amor ardente 
 Que ja nos olhos meus tao puro vifte. 
 
 Efe vires que pode merecerte 
 Algua coufa a dor queme licou 
 Da magoa, fem remedio, de perderte,. 
 
 Roga a Deos que teus annos encurtou. 
 Que tao cedo de ca me leve a verte, 
 Quao cedo, de meus olhos te levou. 
 
 SONNEr
 
 THIRD E P I S T L E. 2;^^ 
 
 SONNET I, 
 
 TX/HILE on my head kind Fortune deign'd to pour 
 Her lavifh boons, and through my willing foul 
 Made tides of extafy and pleafure roll, 
 I fung the raptures of each paffing hour. 
 But Love, who heard me praife the golden {hower, 
 Refolv'd my fond prefumption to controul ; 
 And painful darknefs o'er my fplrit ftole. 
 Left I fliould dare to tell his treacherous power. 
 O ye, whom his hard yoke compels to bend 
 To others' will, if in my various lay 
 Sad plaints ye find, and fears, and cruel wrong, 
 To fuffering nature and to truth attend; 
 For in the meafure ye have felt his fway. 
 Your fympathizing hearts will feel my fong. 
 
 SONNET XIX. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF THE POET's MISTRESS, 
 
 DONNA CATALINA DE ATAIDE, 
 
 WHO DIED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY. 
 
 f^O, gentle fpirit ! now fupremely bleft. 
 
 From fcenes of pain and ftruggling virtue go : 
 From thy immortal feat of heavenly reft 
 Behold us lingering in a world of woe ! 
 And if beyond the grave, to faints above. 
 Fond memory ftill the tranfient paft pourtrays. 
 Blame not the ardor of my conftant love. 
 Which in thefe longing eyes was wont to blaze. 
 But if from virtue's fource my forrows rife. 
 For the fad lofs I never can repair. 
 Be thine to juftify my endlefs fighs. 
 And to theThrone of Grace prefer thy prayer. 
 That Heaven, who made thy fpan of life fo brief. 
 May fliorten mine, and give my foul relief, 
 
 Nn2 SONETO
 
 ^y6 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 S O N E T O LXXIL 
 
 QUANDO de minhas magoas a comprida 
 , Magina9ao os olhos me adorinece, 
 Ein fonhos aquella alma me aparece 
 Que para mi foy fonho nefta vida. 
 
 La numa foidade, onde eftendida 
 A villa por o campo desfallece, 
 Corro apos ella ; & ella entao parece: 
 Que maes de mi fe alonga, compelida^ 
 
 Brado : Nao me fujays, fombra benina. 
 Ella (os olhos em mi c'hum brado peja,. 
 Como quem diz, que ja nao pode ler) 
 
 Torna a fugirme : torno a bradar ; dina : 
 E antes q' acabe em mene, acordo, & vejoj 
 Que nem hum breve engano polTo ter^ 
 
 The Spanifli Commentator of Camcens confiders this vlfibn as- the^ 
 moft exquifite Sonnet of his author, and affirms that it is fuperior to the 
 much longer poem of Petrarch's,, on a fmiilar idea. It may amufe a cu- 
 rious reader to compare both Camoens and Petrarch, on this occalion, 
 with Milton, who has alio written a Sonnet on the Hime fubjedr. The 
 Commentator Faria has a very pleafant remark on this fpecies of compo- 
 fition. He vindicates the dignity of the amorous Sonnet,^ by producing 
 an alphabetical lift of two hundred great Poets, who have thus compli- 
 mented the objetfl of their aifecflion -, and he very gravely introduces 
 Achilles as the leader of this choir, for having celebrated Brifeis. If the 
 Sonnets of the Portugueze Poet are worthy of attention, his Elegies are 
 perhaps ftill more fo, as they illullrate many particulars of his interefl- 
 ing life, which ended in 1579, under the moft cruel circumilances of 
 negle(ft and poverty. 
 
 Portugal has produced no lefs thaa fourteen Epic poems; twelve ia 
 
 her
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 277 
 
 SONNET LXXII. 
 
 \17HILE preft with woes from which it cannot flee^ 
 
 My fancy finks, and flumber feals my eyes. 
 Her fpirit haftens in my dreams to rife. 
 Who was in life but as a dream to me. 
 O'er a drear wafte, fo wide no eye can fee 
 How far its fenfe-evading limit lies, 
 I follow her quick ftep j but ah ! llie flies f 
 Our diflance widening by ftern Fate's decree-. 
 Fly nat from me,, kind fhadow ! I exclaim : 
 She,, with iix'd eyes,, that her foft thoughts reveal^ 
 And feem to fay, ** Forbear thy fond defign l" 
 Still flies : — I call her ; but her half-form'd name 
 Dies on my falt'ring tongue. — I wake, and feel 
 Not e'en one fhort delufion may be mine. 
 
 her own language, and two in that of Spain. At the head of thefe 
 itands the Lufiad of Camoens.. The Maloca Conquiftada of Francifco 
 de Sa' de Menefis — and the UlyfTea,. or Lifboa Edificada, of Gabriel 
 Pereira de Caftro,. are tv^'o of the moil eminent among its fucceflbrs.-— 
 For a lift of the Portugueze Epic Poets, and for an elegant copy of 
 the Malaca Conquiflada, I am indebted to the very liberal politenefs of 
 the Chevalier de Pinto,, the Ambaflador of Portugal, 
 
 NOTE XII. Verse 287. 
 
 Where Eulogy, with one eternal fmiJe.'\ Though a vain infipidi ty may 
 be confidered as the general cliaradteriflic of the French Eloges, it is but 
 juft to remark, that feveraL of thefe performances are an honour to the 
 country which produced them; and particularly the little volume of 
 Eloges lately publifhed by Mr. D'Alembert. This agreeable Encomiafl 
 
 has
 
 2^g- NOTES TO THE 
 
 has varied and enlivened the tone of panegyric by the mofl happy mix- 
 ture of amufing anecdote, judicious criticifm, and philofophical precept : 
 we may juftly fay ofhim, what he himfelf has faid of his predeceflbr Fon- 
 tenclle : II a folidement afTure fa gloire .... par ces Eloges fi intereffans, 
 plcins d'unc raifon fi fine et fi profonde, qui font aimer et refpeder les 
 lettres, qui infpirent aux genies nailfans la plus noble emulation, et qui 
 fcront pafier le nom de I'auteur a la poflerite, avec celui dela compagnie 
 cclebre dont il a etc le digne organe, et des grands hommes dont il s'eil 
 rendu I'egal en devenant leur panegyrifle. 
 
 D'Alembert, Eloge de la Motte, p. 279. 
 
 NOTE XIII. Verse 302. 
 
 No great Rxamples rifcy but fnany a Rule.'] Before the appearance of 
 Boflu's celebrated treatife on Epic poetry, the French had a fimilar work 
 written in Latin. The learned Jefuit Mambrun publifhed, in 1652, a 
 quarto volume, entitled, DilTertatio Peripatetica de Epico Carmine. His 
 Difl'ertation is founded on the principles of Ariflotle, whom he confiders 
 as infallible authority ; and he introduces the Greek Phil ofopher to de- 
 cide the following very curious queftion, which he argues with becom- 
 ing gravity, Whether the adion of a woman can be fufficiently fplendid 
 to prove a proper fubjecSt for an Epic poem. — Having reafoned on this 
 delicate point, with more learning than gallantry, he thus concludes the 
 debate : Congruenter magis finem huic quceftioni ponere non licet, quam 
 verbis Arlftotclis capite 15 PoeticiE, ubi de moribus difputat, AfJifpcv (?f, 
 
 TiX CipilOTTOVTCi. E<JTi yCip CiV^pElCV jL'.fV TO '/^-Cf, Ci}X 8}i CipfXCTTOV yVVOLlKl, TO GLV- 
 
 IpetoLV v\ teivvf^ t:^c/Li — ideil:, fecunda proprietas morum eft, ut fint congruen- 
 tes, ut effe fortem mos eft aliquis ; at non congruit mulieri fortem efTe aut 
 terribilem ut vertit Riccobonus, vel prudcntem ut Pacius. The latter 
 interpretation of the word oV/-vjv v/ould render the decifion of thefe Phi- 
 lofophcrs very fevere indeed on the Female character, by fuppofing it in- 
 capable of difplaying both fortitude and prudence. — The Fair Sex have 
 found an advocate, on this occafion, in a French Epic Poet. The famous 
 Chapclain, in the preface to his unfortunate Pucelle, has very warmly 
 attacked thcfe ungallant maxims of Mambrun and Ariftotle. In fpeak- 
 ing of certain critics, who had cenfured the choice of his fubjedt, before 
 the publication of his poem, he fays, Ceux-cy, jurant fur le texte d'A- 
 
 riftote.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 279 
 
 riftote, maintiennent que la femme eft une erreur de la nature, quLayant 
 toujours intention de faire un homme, s'arrefte fouvent en chemin^ et fe 
 voit contrainte, par la refiftance de la matiere, de laifler fon defiein im- 
 parfait. lis tiennepit la force corporelle tellement neceflaire, dans la 
 compoiition d'un heiV)S, que quand il n'y auroit autre defaut a reprocher 
 a la femme, ils luy en refuferoient le nom, pour cela f.ulement, qii'elle 
 n'a pas la vigueur d'un Athlete, et que la molleffe de fa complexion I'em- 
 pefche de pcuvoir durer au travail. lis n'eftiment ce Sexe capable d'au-. 
 cune penfee heroique, dans la creance que I'efprit fuit le temperament du 
 corps, et que, dans le corps de la femme, I'efprit ne peut rien conce- 
 
 voir, qui ne fe fente de fi foiblefle. — Ces Meiiieurs me pardon- 
 
 neront, toutefois, fi je leur dis qu'ils ne confiderent pas trop bien quelle 
 eft la nature de la vertu heroique, qu'ils en definiflent I'dlTence, par un 
 de fes moindres accidens, et qu'ils en font plutoft une vertu brutale,. 
 
 qu'une vertu divine. *-^ lis fe devroient fouvenir que cette vertu n'a 
 
 prefque rien a faire avec le corps, et qu'elle conlifte, non dans les efforts 
 d'un Milon de Crotone, ou I'efprit n'a aucune part, mais en ceux des 
 ames nees pour les grandes chofcs -, quand par une ardeur plufqu' hu- 
 maine, elles s'elevent audelfus d'elles-mefmes ; qu'elles form.ent quelque 
 deifein, dont I'utilite eft aufli grande que la difficulte, et qu'elles choi- 
 fiiTent les moyens de I'executer avec conftanceet hauteur de courage. Pour 
 prevenus qu'ils foient en faveurs des hommes, je ne penfe pas qu'ils 
 vouluffent attribuer a leur ame un feul avantage, auquel Fame de la 
 femme ne puft afpirer, ni faire deux efpeces des deux fexes, defquels la 
 raifon de tous les fages n'a fait qu'une jufqu'icy — ^je ne croy pas non plus 
 qu'ils imaginent que les vertus morales ayent leur fiege aillcurs, que 
 dans la volonte, ou dans I'entendement. Mais fi elles y ont leur fiege, 
 et fi I'on ne peut dire que ces deux facultes foient aiitres, dans I'ame de 
 la femme que dans I'ame de 1' homme, ils ne peuvent, fins abfurdite', 
 accorder une de ces vertus a 1' homme, et ne 1' accorder pas a la femme. 
 En eftet, cette belle penfee d'Ariftote qui a donne occafion a leUr erreur,, 
 eft fi peu phyfique, qu'elle fait plus de tort a la philofophie du Lycee,, 
 qu'elle n'appuye 1' opinion de ceux que nous combattons." Chapelain. 
 then enters into an hiftorical defence of Female dignity, and oppofes the 
 authority of Plato to that of Ariftotle, concerning the propriety of woman's 
 ever appearing on the great theatre of adive life. Happy had he fup- 
 z ported
 
 28o N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 ported the Female caule as forcibly, iiithe execution of his poem, as iji, 
 the arguments of his preface : hut Chapelain was unfortunately one o^ 
 the many examples, which every country affords, that the mofl perfect 
 union of virtue and erudition is utterly infufficient to form a Poet.;; and.^^ 
 as he had the ill fue to be perfecuted by the pitilefs rigour of Boileau„ 
 his inharmonious poem can never fink into a deferable oblivion. The; 
 treatife of Mambrun feems to have excited, among the French, an e^gern 
 nefs to diftinguifh themfelves in the field of Epic poetry ; for fevCr^ 
 Epic poems were publilhed in France in a few years after that work, 
 appeared ; but tnoft of them, and particularly thofe on fcriptural fuhi 
 jedts, were hardly ever known to exift. 
 
 Le Jonas inconnu feche dans la poufiiere, 
 
 Le David imprime n' a point vu la lumiere, ^ 
 
 Le Moife comjiience a moifir par les bords. 
 
 EoiLEAU, Sat. ix. 
 
 The Alaric of Scudery, and the Clovis of Delmarefls, can fcarce be 
 reckoned more fortunate ; but in this band of unfuccefsful Epic writers, 
 there was one Poet, of whom even the fevere Boileau could not allow 
 himfelf to fpeak ill ; this was Le Moine, the author of St. Louis. The 
 Satirifi: being afked, why he had never mentioned the poetry of Le 
 Moine ? replied with the two following verfes, parodied from Corneille, 
 
 II s'eft: trop eleve pour en dire du mal, 
 II s'eft trop egare pour en dire du bien. 
 
 The judicious and candid Heyne has beftowed confiderable applaufe 
 on Le Moine, in one of his notes to the 6th book of Virgil, where he 
 examines the different methods by which the Epic Poets have introduced 
 their various pidures of futurity. From his account, Le Moine excels 
 in this article. I can fpeak only from the opinion of this learned Critic, 
 for the negleded French Poet is become fo rare, that I have fought in vain 
 
 foracopy of his work. The number of obfcure Epic writers in France 
 
 is very trifling, compared to thofe which Italy has produced ; the Italians 
 
 have been indefatigable in this fpecies of compofition, and, as if they 
 
 had refolved to leave no Hero unfung, their celebrated Novelift, Giraldi 
 
 5 Cinthio,
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. zS\ 
 
 Clnthlo has written an Epic poem, in twenty-lix cantos, on the ex- 
 ploits of Hercules. 
 
 NOTE XIV, Verse 304. 
 
 Keen Boileau JJjall not want his proper praife.'] Nicolas Boileaii Def- 
 preaux was born in or near Paris, for it is a contefled point, on the firft 
 of November 1636, and died in March 171 1 of a dropfy, the very dif- 
 eafe which terminated the life of his Englifh rival. The Lutrin of 
 Boileau, ftill confidered by fome French Critics of the prefent time as 
 the beft poem to which France has given birth, was firft publiflied in 
 1674. It is with great reafon and juflice that Voltaire confeffes the 
 Lutrin inferior to the Rape of the Lock. Few Poets can be fo properly 
 compared as Pope and Boileau ; and, wherever their writings will admit 
 of comparifon, we may, without any national partiality, adjudge the 
 fuperiority to the Englifli Bard. Thefe two great authors refembled 
 each other as much in the integrity of their lives, as in the fubjedls and 
 execution of their feveral compofitions. There are two a<5tions recorded 
 of Boileau, which fufficiently prove that the inexorable Satirift had a 
 moil generous and friendly heart ; when Patru, the celebrated Advocate, 
 who was ruined by his pafTion for literature, found himfelf under the 
 painful neceflity of felling his expenfive library, and had almofi: agreed 
 to part with it for a moderate fum, Boileau gave him a much fuperior 
 price ; and, after paying the money, added this condition to the pur- 
 chafe, that Patru fhould retain, during his life, the polleffion of the 
 books. The fucceeding inflance of the Poet's generofity is yet nobler : — 
 when it was rumoured at court that the King intended to retrench tlie 
 penfion^ of Corneille, Boileau haftened to Madame de Montefpan, and 
 faid, that his Sovereign, equitable as he was, could not, v/ithout injuf* 
 tice, grant a penfion to an author like himfelf, juft afcending Parnaffus, 
 and take it from Corneille, who had fo long been feated on the fummit; 
 that he entreated her, for the honour of the King, to prevail on his Ma- 
 jefty rather to ftrike ofF>6zj- penfion, than to withdraw that reward from 
 a man whofe title to it was incomparably greater ; and that he fhould 
 more eafily confole himfelf under the lofs of that diflincflion, than un- 
 der the afflicSion of feeing it taken away from fuch a Poet as Corneille. 
 This magnanimous application had the fuccefs which it deferved, and it 
 
 O o appears
 
 282 NOTES TO THE 
 
 appears the more noble, when we recoiled that the rival of Corneillc 
 was the intimate friend of Boileau. 
 
 The long and unreferved intercourfe which fubfifted between our 
 Poet and Racine was highly beneficial and honourable to both. The 
 dying farewell of the latter is the moll: expreffive eulogy on the private 
 character of Boileau : Je regarde comme un bonheur pour moi de mourir 
 avant vous, fiid the tender Racine, in taking a final leave of his faithful 
 and generous friend. 
 
 NOTE XV. Verse 313. 
 
 Nor, gentle Greffet, fiall thy fprightly rhyme.'] This elegant and ami- 
 able writer was born at Amiens, and educated in the fociety of the Je- 
 fuits, to whom he has paid a grateful compliment in bidding them adieu. 
 At the aj^e of twenty-fix he publiihed his Ver-vert, a poem in four 
 cantos, which commemorates 
 
 La eaufe infortunee 
 D'un Perroquet non moins brillant qu' Enee : 
 Non moins devot, plus malheureux que lui. 
 
 Voltaire has fpoken invidioully of this delightful performance ; but a 
 fpirited French Critic has very julHy vindicated the merits of Greflet 
 
 in the following remark : -Le Ver-^vert fera toujours un poeme char- 
 
 mant et inimitable, fans fouiller fa plume par I'impiete et la licence qui 
 dclhonorcut celle de I'auteur de La Pucelle, le Poete a fu y repandie un 
 agrement, une fraicheur et une vivacite de coloris, qui le rendent aufli 
 piquant dans les details,, qu'il eft riche et ingenieux dans la fiiftion. Oiv 
 placera toujours cet agreable badinage parmi les productions originales^ 
 proprcs a faire aimer des etrangers la gaiete Fran^oife en ecartant toute 
 mauvaiie idee de nos moeurs. 
 
 NOTE XVI. Verse 325. 
 
 See Ioi:cly Boccage, in a?nI?ition Jlj-ong.'] Madame du Boccage is known 
 to the Englilh reader as the correfpondent of Lord Chefterfield. This in- 
 genious and fpirited Lady has written three poemsof the Epic kind — Le 
 Paradis Terreftre, in fix cantos, from Milton 5 La Mort d'Abel, in five 
 
 cantos.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. ^Sj 
 
 cantos, from Gefner; and a more original compofition, in ten cantos, on 
 the exploits of Columbus. I have alluded to a paiTage in the laft poem 
 where Zama, the daughter of an Indian Chief, is thus defcribed : 
 
 Comme Eve, elle etoit nue j une egale innocence 
 L'offre aux regards fans honte, et voile fes appas ; 
 Les Graces qu'elle ignore accompagnent fes pas, 
 Et pour tout vetement, en formant fa parure, 
 D'un plumage azure couvrirent fa ceinture. 
 
 The works of this elegant female Poet contain an animated veriion of 
 Pope's Temple of Fame. And fhe has added to her poetry an account 
 of her travels through England, Holland, and Italy, in a feries of enter*- 
 taining letters, addrefled to Madame du Perron, her fifter. 
 
 NOTE XVII. Verse 344. 
 
 ^0 fwell the glory of her great Volt aire. ^ Though the Henriade has- 
 been frequently reprinted, and the partizans of Voltaire have endeavoured 
 to make it a national point of honour to fupport its reputation, it feems 
 at length to be linking under that negledl and oblivion, which never 
 fail to overtake every feeble offspring of the Epic Mufe. Several of our 
 moft eminent Critics have attacked this performance with peculiar feve- 
 rity, and fome have condemned it on the mofl oppofite principles, merely 
 becaufe it does not coincide with their refpedtive fyflems. Their itw- 
 tence has been pafled only in fliort and incidental remarks ; but a French 
 writer, inflamed by perfonal animofity againfl Voltaire, has ,raifed three 
 ocStavo volumes on the defedls of this Ungle poem. Mr, Clement, in 
 his ** Entretiens fur le Poeme Epique relativement a la Henriade y' has 
 endeavoured to prove it utterly deficient in all the effential points of 
 Epic poetry; — in the flrud:ure of its general plan, in the conducfl of its va-. 
 rious parts, in fentiment, in chara6ler, in ilyle. His work indeed dif- 
 plays an acrimonious deteflation of the Poet whom he examines -, and 
 perhaps there is hardly any human compofition which could fupport the 
 fcrutiny of fo rigid an inquifitor : the Henriade is utterly unequal to it; 
 for in many articles we are obliged to confefs, that the jufiice of the Cri- 
 tic is not inferior to his feverity. He difcovers, in his diire(I:"lion of the 
 
 O o 2 Poem,
 
 2^4 NOTES TO THE 
 
 Poem, the fkill of an anatomift, with the malignity of an alTaffin. If 
 any thing can deferve fuch rigorous treatment, it is certainly the artifice 
 of Voltaire, who, in his EfTay on Epic Poetry, has attempted, with 
 much ingenuity, to fink the reputation of all the great Epic Writers, 
 that he might raifc himfelf to their level ; an attempt in which no au- 
 thor can ultimately fucceed; for, as D'Alembert has admirably remarked 
 on a different occafion, Le public laifiera Tamour propre de chaque 
 ecrivain fairc fon plaidoyer, rira de leurs efforts, non de genie, mais de 
 raifonnement, pour hauffer leur place, et finira par mettre chacun a la 
 iienne, 
 
 NOTE XVIII. Verse 475. 
 
 And, Jhrouded in a 7niji of moral fpleen.^ It feems to be the peculiar 
 infelicity of Pope, that his moral virtues have had a tendency to diminidi 
 his poetical reputation. Poffelling a benevolent fpirit, and wifhing ta 
 make the art, to which he devoted his life, as ferviceable as he could to 
 the great intereffs of mankind, he foon quitted the higher regions of 
 poetry, for the more level, and more frequented field of Ethics and of 
 Satire. He declares^ with a noble pride arifing from the probity of his 
 intention. 
 
 That not in Fancy ^s maze he wander'd long,. 
 But ffoop'd to truth, and moraliz'd his fong. 
 
 The fcvcrity of Criticifm has from hence inferred, that his imagination 
 was inferior to the other faculties of his mind, and that he poffeffed not 
 tli.it vigour of genius which might enable him to rank with our more 
 fublime and pathetic Bards. This inference appears to me extremely 
 defedive both in candour and in reafon j it would furely be more gene- 
 rous, and I will venture to add, more juft, to affign very different caufes 
 for his having latterly applied himfelf to moral and- fatyric compofition. 
 If his preceding poems difplayed only a moderate portion of fancy and of 
 tcndtTnefs, we might indeed very fairly conjedure, that he quitted the 
 kind of poetry, where thefe qualities are particularly required, becaufe 
 Nature direded him to fhine only as the- Poet of reafon, — But his earlier 
 produdions will audiorize an oppofite conelufion. At an- age when fev/ 
 authors have prodxiced any capital work, Pope gave the world two poems.
 
 THIRD EPISTLE. 285 
 
 one the offspring of imagination, and the other of fenfibility, which will 
 ever ftand at the head of the two poetical clafTes to which they belong : 
 his Rape of the Lock, and his Eloiie, have nothing to fear from any ri- 
 vals, either of paft or of future time. When a writer has difplayed fach 
 early proofs of exquifite fancy, and of tender enthufiafm, thofe great 
 conftituents of the real Poet, ought we not to regret that he did not give 
 a greater fcope and freer exercife to thefe qualities, rather than to aflert 
 that he did not pofiefs them in a fuperlative degree ? Why then, it may be 
 a{ked, did he confine himfelf to compofitions in which thefe have little 
 fhare ? The life and charadter of Pope will perfedily exph.in the reafons, 
 why he did not always follow the higher fuggeftions of his own natural 
 genius. He had entertained an opinion, that by ftooping to truth, and 
 employing his talents on the vices and follies of the pafling time, he 
 fhould be moft able to benefit mankind. The idea was perhaps ill- 
 founded, but his condu(5t in confequence of it was certainly noble. Its 
 effedts however were moft unhappy ; for it took from him all his enjoy- 
 ment of life, and may injure, in fome degree, his immortal reputation : 
 by fuffering his thoughts to dwell too much on knaves and fools, he fell 
 into the fplenetic delufion, that the world is nothing but a compound of 
 vice and folly ; and from hence he has been reproached for fuppofing that 
 all human merit was confined to himfelf, and to a fev/ of his mofl inti- 
 mate correfpondents. 
 
 There was an amiable peculiarity in the charader of Pope, which 
 had great influence both on his condud: and compofition — he embraced 
 the fentiments of thofe he loved with a kind of fuperftitious regard ; his 
 imagination and his judgment were perpetually the dupes of an affec- 
 tionate heart : it was this which led him, at the requeft of his idol Bo- 
 lingbroke,to write a fublime poem on metaphyfical ideas which he did not 
 perfectly comprehend ; it was this v/hich urged him almoft to quar- 
 rel with Mr. Allen, in compliance with. the caprices of a female friend ; 
 i± was this which induced him, in the warmth of gratitude, to follow 
 t-he abfurd hints of Warburton with all the blindnefs of infatuated af- 
 fedtion. Whoever examines the life and writings of Pope with a mi- 
 nute and unprejudiced attention, will find that his excellencies, both as 
 a Poet and a Man, were peculiarly his own ; and that his failings were 
 diiefly owing to the ill judgment, or the artifice, of his real and pre- - 
 
 tended!
 
 286 NOTES, &c. 
 
 tended friends. The liivifh applaufj and the advice of his favourite 
 Attcrbury, was perhaps the caufe of his preferving the famous charader 
 of Addifon, which, finely written as it is, all the lovers of Pope mufl 
 wifli him to have fuppreffed. Few of his friends had integrity or frank- 
 ncfs futhcient to perfuade him, that his fatires would deftroy the tran- 
 quillity of his life, and cloud the luftre of his fame : yet, to the honour 
 of Lyttelton, be it remembered, that he fuggefted fuch ideas to the Poet, 
 in the verfes which he wrote to him from Rome, with all the becoming 
 zeal of enlightened friendfliip: 
 
 No more let meaner Satire dim the rays 
 That flow majeflic from thy nobler bays 1 
 In all the flowery paths of Pindus ftray. 
 But fliun that thorny, that unpleaflng way ! 
 Nor, when each foft, engaging Mufe is thine, 
 Addrefs the leaft attradive of the Nine ! 
 
 This generous admonition did not indeed produce its intended effed, 
 for other counfellors -had given a different bias to the mind of the Poet, 
 and the malignity of his enemies had exafperated his temper j yet he af- 
 terwards turned his thoughts towards the compofition of a national Epic 
 poem, and poffiblvin confequence of the hint which this Epiflle of Lyt- 
 telton contains. The intention was formed too late, for it arofe in his 
 decline of life. Had he polTefled health and leifure to execute fuch a 
 work, I am perfuaded it would have proved a- glorious acquifition to the 
 literature of our country : the fubjedl indeed which he had chofen muft 
 be allowed to have an unpromifing appearance ; but the opinion of Addi- 
 fon concerning his Sylphs, which was iurely honeft, and not invidious, 
 may teach us hardly ever to decide again fl the intended works of a fu- 
 perior genius. Yet in all the Arts, we are perpetually tempted to pro- 
 nounce fuch decilions. I have frequently condemned fubjedls which 
 my friend Romney had feledled for the pencil ; but in the fequcl, my 
 opinion only proved that I was near-lighted in thofe regions of imagina- 
 rtion, where his keener eyes commanded all the profpe<5t. 
 
 NOTES
 
 [ 287 J 
 
 NOTE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 FOURTH EPISTLE. 
 
 NOTE I. Verse 103. 
 
 T}ROCEEDy ye Sifters of the tuneful Shell.] For the advice which I 
 have thus ventured to give fuch of my fair readers as have a talent for 
 poetry, I fhall produce them a much higher poetical authority. In the 
 age of Petrarch, an Italian Lady, named Giuftina Perrot, was deiirous 
 of diftinguifhing herfelf by this pleafmg accomplifhment; but the remarks 
 of the world, which reprcfented it as improper for her fex, difcouraged 
 her fo far, that fhe was alniofl tempted to relinquifh her favourite pur- 
 fuit. In her doubts on this point,, fhe confulted the celebrated Poet of 
 her country in an elegant Sonnet ; md received his anfwer on the inte- 
 refling fubjecft in the fame poetical form. I fhall add the two Sonnets, 
 with an imitation of each,. 
 
 10
 
 2»8 NOTES TO THE 
 
 TO vorrel puf diizi'ar qiiefle mie piumc 
 
 Cola, Signer, dove il defio n'invita, 
 E dopo morte rimaner' in vita 
 Col chiaro di virtute inclyto lume 
 Ma' volgo inerte, die dal rio coftume 
 Vinto, ha d' ogni fuo ben la via fmarrita. 
 Come degna di biafmo ogn' hor m' addita 
 Ch' ir tenti d' Elicona al facro fiume. 
 All ago, al fufo, piu ch' al lauro, o al mirto. 
 Come che qui non fia la gloria mia, 
 Vuol ch' habbia fempraqAiefla mente intefa. 
 Dimmi tu hormai, che per piu dritta via 
 A ParnafTo t' en vai, nobile fpirto, 
 Dovro dunque lafciar fi degna imprefa ? 
 
 T A gola, e '1 fonno, e 1' o^Iofe piume 
 
 Hanno del mondo ogni virtu fbandita, 
 Ond' e dal corfo fuo quafi fmarrita 
 Noftra natura vinta dal coftume : 
 Ed e (i fpento ogni benigno lume 
 Del ciel, per cui s' informa umana vita, 
 Che per cofa mirabile s' addita 
 Chi vuol far d' Elicona nafcer fiume. 
 Qua] vaghezza di lauro, qual di mirto ? 
 Povera e nuda vai filofofia. 
 Dice la turba al vil guadagno intefa. 
 Pochi compagni avrai per I'altra via 
 Tanto ti prego piu, gentile fpirto, 
 Non lafciar la magnanima tua imprefa! ' 
 
 THE
 
 FOURTH EPISTLE. 289 
 
 THE SONNET OF GIUSTINA TO PETRARCH. 
 
 /^LADLY would I exchange inglorious cafe 
 
 For future fame, the Poet's fond defire ! 
 And ftill to live, in fpite of death, afpire 
 By Virtue's light, that darknefs cannot feize : 
 But, flupified by Cuftom's blank decrees. 
 The idle vulgar, void of liberal fire. 
 Bid me, w^ith fcorn, from Helicon retire. 
 And rudely blame my generous hope to pleafc. 
 Diftaffs, not laurels, to your fex belong. 
 They cry— as honour were beyond our view : 
 To fuch low cares they wifh my fpirit bent. 
 Say thou ! who marchefl, 'mid the favor'd few. 
 To high ParnafTus, with triumphant fong. 
 Should I abandon fuch a fair intent-? 
 
 THE ANSWER OF PETRARCH, 
 
 T UXURIOUS pleafure, and lethargic eafe 
 
 Have deaden'd in the world each bright defire : 
 Our thoughts no more with Nature's force afpire; 
 Cuftom's cold powers the drooping fancy feize : 
 So loft each light that taught the foul to pleafe. 
 Each heavenly fpark of life-dire6ling fire. 
 That all, who join the Heliconian choir. 
 Are frantic deem'd by Folly's dull decrees. 
 What charms, what worth to Laurel-wreaths beloiig ? 
 Naked and poor Philofophy we view. 
 Exclaims the crowd, on fordid gain intent. — 
 Aflbciates in thy path thou'lt find but few 5 
 The more, I pray thee. Nymph of graceful fong, 
 Indulge thy fpirit in its noble bent ! 
 
 Pp NOTE
 
 29^ 
 
 NOTES TO THE 
 
 NOTE II. Verse 210. 
 
 As wounded Leaniing blufics to recite!] Milton fold the copy of Pa- 
 radifc Loft for the fum of five pounds, on the condition of receiving fifteen 
 pounds more at three fubfequent periods, to be regulated by the fale of 
 the Poem. — For the ceiling at Whitehall, Rubens received three thou- 
 ii\nd pounds. 
 
 NOTE III. Verse 298. 
 
 Receive the LaureLfrom Imperial Charles I] Ariofto is faid to have been 
 publicly crowned with laurel at Mantua, by the Emperor Charles the 
 Vth, towards the* end of the year 1532. This fadl-has been difputed by 
 various writers, but it feems to be fufficiently eftabliftied by the refearches 
 of Mazzuchelli.. 
 
 The cuftom of cr(;>wning Poets with laurel is almoft as ancient as poetry 
 itfelf, fays the Abbe du Refnel, in his Recherches fur les Poetes couron- 
 nez, a work which contains but fcanty information on this curious topic. 
 Petrarch is generally fuppofed to have revived this ancient folemnity, 
 which had been aboliilied as a pagan inftitution in the reign of the Em- 
 peror Theodofitis. It appears however, from two pafiiiges in the writings 
 of BoccaciQ, that Dante had entertained feriaus thoughts of this honour- 
 able diftindlion, which his exile precluded him from receiving, as he 
 chofe, fays his. Biographer, to be crown'd only in his native city. 
 
 An amufing volume might be written on the honours which have been 
 paid to Poets in different ages, and in various parts of the world. It is 
 remarkable, that the moft unpoliihed nations have been the moft lavifh in 
 rewarding their Bards. There are two inftances on record, in which poe- 
 tical talents have raifed their poffelTors even to fovereign dominion. The 
 Scythians chofe the Poet Thamyris. for their king, though he was not a 
 native of their country, £t/ Too-arov >jKf-;t/9apw3'/a«:, wf- yLOLi C£i(yi},60L ff^i^v, noiiTrsp 
 (TTviX'jTov ovTdy ^KV^ac TTQiviiTCid^oLi . Hiii. Poct. Scripti Edit. Gak, p. 250. 
 Saxo Grammaticus begins the fixth book of his Hiftory by relating, that 
 the Danes beftowed their vacant diadem on the Poet Hiarnus, as a reward 
 for his having compofed the beft epitaph on their deceafed fovereign Fro- 
 tho. From the four Latin verfcs which the Hiftorian has given us, as a 
 
 tranflation
 
 F O U R T H E P I S T L E. 291 
 
 tranflation of this extradrdinaiy epitaph, we may venture to affirm, that 
 the poetical monarch obtain'd his crown on very eafy conditions. -' -■'■^ 
 
 NOTE IV. Verse 314. 
 
 For him her fountains gujh with golden Jlr earns, ^ Of the great wealth 
 which flowed into the hands of this extraordinary Poet, his friend and 
 biographer Montalvan has given a particular account. This author con- 
 cludes that Lope de Vega gained by his dramatic works alone a fum 
 nearly equal to 20,000 pounds fterling -, the revenue arifing from the 
 polls he held, and from his penfion, was very confiderable. His opu- 
 lence was much encreafed by the moil fplendid inftances of priva-te libe- 
 rality. He received many coftly prefents from various characters to 
 whom he was perfonally unknown ; and he was himfelf heard to fay, in 
 fpeaking of his generous patron, that the Duke of SefTa alone had given, 
 him, at different periods of his life, fums almoft amounting to fix thooi-*" 
 fand pounds. 
 
 It muft be confefTed, that the noble patrons of Englifh poetry have not 
 equalled this example of Spanifli munificence, even if we admit the truth 
 of our traditionary anecdotes concerning the generofity of Lord South- 
 ampton to Shakefpeare, and of Sir Philip Sidney to Spenfer. Confider- 
 ing the liberality for which our nation is fo juftly celebrated, it is re- 
 markable, that not a fmgle Englifh Poet appears to have been enriched by 
 our monarchs : yet Spenfer had every claim to the bounty of Elizabeth ; 
 he fung her praifes in a flrain which might gratify her pride ; and of all 
 who have flattered the great, he may juftly be confldered as the mofl 
 worthy of reward. His fong was the tribute of his heart as well as of 
 his fancy, and the fex of his idol may be laid to purify his incenfe from 
 all the offenfive particles of fervile adulation. The neglect which he ex- 
 perienced from the vain, imperious, and ungrateful Elizabeth, appears 
 the more ftrlking, when we recoiled:, that her lovely rival, the beautiful 
 and unfortunate Queen of Scots, iignallzed her liiperior generofity by a 
 magnificent prefent of plate to the French Poet Ronfard. This negleded 
 Bard was once the darling of France, and perhaps equalled Lope de Vega 
 in the honours which he received : his fovereign, Charles the Ninth, 
 conipofed fome elegant verfes in his praife, and the city of Touloufe pre- 
 fented him with a Minerva of maflive filver. 
 
 P p 2 If
 
 292 NOTES, &c. 
 
 If our princes and nobles have not equalled thofe of other kingdoms in 
 liberality to the great Poets of their country, England may yet boaft the 
 name of a private gentleman, who difcovered in this refpedl a moil 
 princely fpirit j no nation, either ancient or modern, can produce an ex- 
 ample of munificence more truly noble than the annual gratuity which 
 Afcenfide received from Mr. Dyfon ; a tribute of generous and affedionate 
 r.dmiration, endeared to its worthy poileffor by every confideration which 
 could make it honourable both to himfelf and to his patron ! 
 
 It has been lately lamented by an elegant and accompliihed writer, 
 who had too much reafon for the complaint, that '' the profeflion 
 " of Literature, by far the mofh laborious of any, leads to no real be- 
 V nefit." Experience undoubtedly proves, that it has a general tendency 
 to impoveridi its votaries j and the legiflators of every country would ad 
 perhaps a wife, at all events an honourable part, if they correded this 
 tendency, by eftablifliing public emoluments for fuch as eminently dif- 
 tinguifh themfelves in the various branches of fcience. It is furely 
 poilible to form fuch an eftablifhment, which, without proving a national 
 burthen, might aggrandize the literary glory of the nation, by pre- 
 ferving her men of letters from the evils fo frequently conneded with 
 their purfuits, by fecuring, to thofe who deferve it, the polTeflion of eafe 
 and honour, without damping their emulation, or deilroying their inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 NOTES
 
 [ 293 ] 
 
 NOTE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 FIFTH EPISTLE, 
 
 NOTE I. Verse 76. 
 
 ^T^HE loofe Petroniiis gave the maxi?n birth. ^ Ariftotle has faid but 
 little, in his Poetics, concerning that weighty point, which has fo 
 much employed and embarraiTed the modern Critics — the machinery of 
 the Epic poem ; and the little which he has faid might rather furnifh 
 an argument for its exclulion, than juflify its ufe. But Rome, in her 
 moil: degenerate days, produced a writer, to whofe authority, contemp- 
 tible as it is, mofl: frequent appeals have been made in this curious lite- 
 rary queftion. In almoft every modern author who has touched, how- 
 ever nightly, on Epic poetry, we may find at leail fome part of the 
 following fentence from Petronius Arbiter : — Ecce, belli civilis ingens 
 opus quifquis attigerit, nifi plenus litteris, fub onere labetur. Non enim 
 res geftae verfibus comprehendendae funt, quod longe melius hiftorici fa- 
 ciunt j fed per ambages, deorumque minifleria, & fabulofum fententi- 
 arum tormentum praecipitandus eft liber fpiritus -, ut potius furentis 
 animi vaticinatio appareat, quam religiofas orationis fub teftibus fides. 
 
 Thefe remarks on the necefilty of celeftial agents, were evidently 
 made to depreciate the Pharfalia of Lucan 3 and Petronius may be called 
 a fair Critic, as Pope faid of Milbourne, on his oppofition to Dryden, 
 becaufe he produces his own poetry in contraft to that which he con- 
 demns. His fpecimen of the manner in which he thought an Epic 
 poem fhould be conducted, fufiiciently proves the abfurdity of his cri- 
 
 ticifm 5
 
 ,^4 NOTESTOTHE 
 
 ticifm ; for how infipid is the fable in thofe verfes which he has oppofed 
 to the Pharflilia, when compared to the firfl: book of Lucan ! Yet the 
 Epic compofition of Petronius has not wanted admirers : a Dutch 
 Commentator is bold enough to fay, that he prefers this fmgle rhapfody 
 to three hundred volumes of fuch poetry as Lucan's : an opinion which 
 can only lead us to exclaim with Boileau, 
 
 Vi\ Cot trouve toujours un plus fot qui I'admire. 
 
 If men of letters, in the age of Lucan, dilFered in their fentiments 
 concerning machinery, tlie great changes that have fince happened -in 
 the world, and the difquifitions which have appeared on the fubjedl, 
 are very far fro.m having reconciled the judgment of modern writers on 
 this important article. Two eminent Critics of the prefent time have 
 delivered opinions on this topic fo fingularly oppofite to each other, that 
 I fliall tranfcribe them both. 
 
 ** In a theatrical entertainment, which employs both the eye and the 
 ** ear, it would be a grofs abfurdity to introduce upon the ftage fuperior 
 *' Beings in a vifible (hape. There is not place for fuch objedion in an 
 *' Epic poem ; and Boileau, with many other Critics, declares ftrongly 
 ** for that fort of machinery in an Epic poem. But waving authority, 
 ** which is apt to impofe upon the judgment, let us draw what light we 
 " can from reafon. I begin with a preliminary remark, that this mat- 
 ** ter is but indiftlndlly handled by Critics. The poetical privilege of 
 ** animating infenfible objefts for enlivening a defcription, is very diifer- 
 ** ent from what is termed machinery^ where deities, angels, devils, or 
 •' other fupernatural powers, are introduced as real perfonages, mixing 
 ** in the adtion, and contributing to the cataftrophe ; and yet thefe two 
 ** things are conflantly jumbled together in the reafoning. The former 
 ** is founded on a natural principle; but can the latter claim the fame 
 " authority ? So far from it, that nothing is more unnatural. Its 
 ** effects at the fame time are deplorable. Firft, it gives an air of 
 " fidlion to the whole, and prevents that impreffion of reality which is 
 ^ requifite to intereft our affedlions, and to move our paflions ; which 
 *' of itfelf is fufHcient to explode machinery, whatever entertainment it 
 " may afford to readers of a fantaflic tafle or irregular imagination. 
 
 *' And
 
 FIFTH EPISTLE. 295 
 
 And next, were it poffible, by difguifing the fidiion, to delude us into 
 a notion of reality, which I think can hardly be, an infuperable objec- 
 tion would ftill remain, which is, that the aim or end of an Epic 
 poem can never be attained in any perfed:ion where machinery is in- 
 troduced j for an evident reafon, that virtuous emotions cannot be 
 raifed fuccefsfully, but by the adiions of thofe who are endued with 
 paflions and affecflions like our own, that is, by human a(flions : and 
 as for moral inftrucftion, it is clear that none can be drawn from 
 Beings who ad: not upon the lame principles with us. Homer, it is 
 true, introduces tlie Gods into his fable ; but the religion of his coun- 
 try authorized that liberty ; it being an article in the Grecian creed, 
 that the Gods often interpofc vifibly and bodily in human affairs. I 
 mull, however, obferve, that Homer's Deities do no honour to his 
 poems. Fidions that tranfgrefs the bounds of nature feldom have a 
 good effedl ; they may inflame the imagination for a moment, but 
 will not be reliflied by any perfon of a corred: tafte. They may be of 
 fome ufe to the lower rank of writers ; but an author of genius has 
 much finer materials of nature's produdion for elevating his fubjccft, 
 
 and making it interefting. Voltaire, in his Eflay upon Epic Poetry, 
 
 talking of the Pharfalia, obferves judicioufly, that the proximity of 
 time, the notoriety of events, the character of the age, enlightened and 
 political, joined with the foHdity of Lu^an's fubjedt, deprived him of 
 all liberty of poetical fidion. Is it not amazing, that a Critic who 
 reafons lb jufrly with refped to others, can be fo blind with refpedt to 
 himlelf ? Voltaire, not fatisfied to enrich his language with images 
 drawn from invifible and fuperior Beings, introduces them into the 
 adion. In- the fixth canto of the Henriade, St. Louis appears in 
 perfon, and terrifies the foldiers ;. in the feventh canto, St. Louis 
 fends the God of Sleep to Henry; and in the tenth, the demons of 
 Difcord,Fanaticifm, War, &c. affilt Aumale in a fmgle combat with 
 Turenne, and are driven away by a good angel brainiilliing the fword 
 of God. ■ To blend fuch fiditious perfonages in the fame adtion with 
 mortals, makes a bad- figure at any rate, and i^ intolerable in a hiftory 
 h recent as that of Henry IV. This fingly is fufhcient to make the 
 Henriade a Hiort-lived poem, were it othcrwife poflelTed of every 
 beauty-." E/e/fte^ftiof-Cr/hV^Fx, vol. ii. p. 3B9, 4th edition. 
 
 10 '' The
 
 .2^6 N O T E S T O T H E 
 
 '* The Pagan Gods and Gothic Fairies were equally out of credit when " 
 
 ** Milton wrote. He did well therefore to fupply their room with An- 
 «* gels and Devils. If thefc too fhould wear out of the popular creed (and 
 ** thcv feem in a hopeful way, from the liberty fome late Critics have 
 ** taken with them) I know not what other expedients the Epic Poet 
 ** might have recourfe to; but this I know— the pomp of verfe, the 
 «* energy of defcription, and even the fineft moral paintings, would (land 
 ** him'in no ftcad. Without ad?niration (which cannot be effeded but 
 <* by the marvellous of celeilial intervention, I mean the agency of fu- 
 ** perior natures really exifting, or by the illufion of the fancy taken to 
 '* be (6) no Epic poem can be long-lived. I am not afraid to inftance in i 
 
 " the Ilenriadc itfelf, which, notwithftanding the elegance of the com- \ 
 
 ** pofition, will in a fhort time be no more read than the Gondibert of 
 ** Sir W. Davenant, and for the fame reafon." 
 
 Letters on Chivalry and Romance, Letter X. 
 
 I have thus ventured to confront thefe eminent critical antagonifts, 
 that, while they engage and overthrow each other, we may obferve the 
 injullice produced by the fpirit of fyflematical criticifm, even in authors 
 moft refpedable for their talents and erudition. — Here is the unfortunate 
 Voltaire placed between two critical fires, which equally deilroy him. 
 The frji Critic afferts that the Henriade mufl be fliort-lived, becaufe 
 the Poet has introduced invijible andfuperior agefits ; — thcfecond denounces 
 the fame fate againfl it, becaufe it wants the agency of fuperior natures : 
 yet furely every reader of poetry, who is not influenced by any particular 
 fyftem, will readily allow, that if Voltaire had treated his fubjedt with 
 true Epic fpirit in all other points, neither the introdudion nor the 
 abfcnce of St. Louis could be fingly fufficient to plunge the Henriade in 
 oblivion. Indeed the learned author, who has fpoken in fo peremptory 
 a manner concerning the neceffity of fupernatural agents to preferve the % 
 exiftence of an Epic poem, appears rather unfortunate in the two exam- 
 ples by which he endeavours to fupport his do(ftrine ; for the Epic 
 poems both of Davenant and Voltaire have fufficient defeats to account 
 for any negledt which may be their lot, without confidering the article 
 of Machinery. 
 
 If I have warmly oppofed any decifions of this exalted Critic, it is 
 
 from
 
 F I F T H E P I S T L E. 297 
 
 from a perfualibn (in which I may perhaps be miilakcn) thaty5/;/(? of his 
 maxims have a flrong tendency to injure an aft highly' dear to us both ; 
 an art on which his genius and learning haVe caft manyT^ys of pleafing 
 and of ufeful light. 
 
 NOTE II. Verse 166. 
 
 Btit bowling dogs the fancied Orpheus tore.] This anecdote of Nean- 
 thug, the fori of King Pittacus, is related by Lucian. The curious 
 reader may find it in the fecond volume of Dr. Francklin's fpirited tranf- 
 lation of that lively author, page 355 of the quarto edition. 
 
 NOTE III. Verse 276. 
 And fpotlcfs Ldurels in that Jield be won.] The Indian mythology, 
 as it has lately been illullrated in the writings of Mr. Holwell, is finely 
 calculated to anfwer the purpofe of any poetical genius Vv^ho may wifli to 
 introduce new machinery into the ferious Epic Poem> Befides the 
 powerful charm of novelty, it would have the advantage of not ckfliinp- 
 with our national religion ; for the endeavours of Mr. Holwell to re- 
 concile the ancient and pure doctrine of Bramah with the difpenfation of 
 Chrifl, have fo far fucceeded, that if his fyftem does not fatisfy a theo- 
 logifl, it certainly affords a fufiicient bafis for the ftrud:ure of a Poet. 
 In perufmg his account of the Indian fcripturdj every reader of imagina- 
 tion may, I think, perceive, that the Shaftah might fupply a poetical 
 fpirit with as rich a mafs of ideal treafure as fancy could wirti to work 
 upon. — An Epic Poet, defirous of laying the fcene of his adiion in India, 
 would be more embarraffed to find interefting Heroes than proper Divi- 
 nities. — Had juftice and generofity infpired and guided that Englifli 
 I valour, which has fignalized itfelf on the plains of Indoflan ; had the 
 ! arms of our country been employed to deliver the native Indians from 
 the oppreflive ufurpation of the Mahometan powers ; fuch exploits 
 1 would prefent to the Epic Mufe a fubjedl truly noble, and the mytholo- 
 j gy of the Eafl might enrich it with the mofh fplendid decorations. 
 Whether it be pofiible or not to find fuch a fubjedl in the records of our 
 I Indian hiflory, I leave the reader to determine. — Our great Hiflorian of 
 ! the Roman empire has intimated, in a note to the firfl volume of his 
 I immortal work, that " the wonderful expedition of Odin, which deduces 
 I Q^q " the
 
 293 NOTE S, &c. 
 
 *• the enmity of the Goihs and Romans from fo memorable a eaufe^ might 
 " fupply the noble j^rountl-v/ork of ;m Epic poem." The idea 15 cer- 
 tainly both juft and fplendid. Had Gray been ever tempted to engage 
 in fiich a work, he would probably have convinced us, that the Northern 
 mythology h.is llill futficient power to feize and enchant the imagina- 
 tion, as much in Epic as in Lyric compofition. 
 
 It may aniufe our fpeculative Critics, to coniider hovsr far tho^ religious 
 Gothic J'abks ihould be introduced or reje6:ed, to render fuch a per- 
 formance moft interefling to a modern reader. Few judges would. agree 
 in their fentiments on the quelliion ; and perhaps the great difpute con- 
 cerning Machinery cannot be fairly adjufled, till fome happy genius fliall 
 poflefs ambition and perfcverance enough to execute two Epic poems, 
 in the one adopting, and in- the other rejecfli-ng,, fupernatiiral- agents j for 
 Reafon alone is by no means an infallible conducflor in the province of 
 Fancy; and in the poetical as well as the philofophical world, experi- 
 ment is the fureft guide to truth. 
 
 I N I *.
 
 ERRATA, 
 
 E P I S T L E 11. 
 
 \cf, 3, for nvhere read <iuhence 
 ■' ■ 282, for Critic read Critics 
 
 E P I S T L E iy> . 
 
 Ver. 356, for ^«/ read heap. 
 
 Ver. 372, at the end of the line infert a mark of Interrogation^ 
 
 ERRATA IN THE NOTES. 
 
 l*age 133, line 3, for ijuore read bore 
 
 .. ■ i%\, — 10, for Ninus read iV//iiJ 
 
 — — 201 > — 8> for ne^lio read meglio — for ginHicii read giudicio 
 
 — -— 208, — 28, for Aranco Tczd Jrauco ; and line ult. for ^r/J/»f«A?/fl«/ fcad Arautaniarf: 
 
 — — 217, &C. for Lincoza read Lincoya 
 
 — — 223, lia^ 20, for Lantaro read Lautaro* — The Reader i^ defired to correft thia name in 
 
 different pages, as it is repeatedly nalfprinted, 
 286^. line 2, for was read tvgre
 
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