Country Conversations, &c.
SECT. 1. Of the Modern Comedies.
ABOUT the middle of last Spring, Lisander a Commoner of the first Rank, and one whose Virtues and Accomplishments had render'd him as Eminent as his Birth and Estate, being to return to his Country Seat (from which he had been absent the whole Winter) resolved notwithstanding to lose as little as might be of the Advantages of the Town, the Chief of which is its Conversation. To this End he engaged Mitis and Julio, two of his most inward Friends, and persons much of his Humour and Character, to bear him Company, and [Page 2] Spend, at least, part of the Summer with him. Nor would Lisander suffer them to go otherwise than in his own Coach, that so he might enjoy the most of their Discourse, and make a kind of Accademy on the Road, during this little Voyage; for the Remove was short, and but a Winter days Journey from London: They were no sooner come into the Free and Un-citty'd Air, when Lisander told his Friends they must now resolve to wean themselves, for some time, from the Fountain of News, and exchange the Diversions of the Coffee-House, and the Theatre, for a Cool Shade and Rural Sports. Mitis Reply'd, the Change cannot but be very grateful to me, since I am quite sick of the Common Buz at Coffee-Houses, News frequently false, mostly uncertain, and sometimes absurdly Ridiculous. You cannot be more Sick, added Julio, of the News, than I am of the New Plays, the Comedies especially, which in my Esteem are nothing comparable to those Writ before the Civil War, and some in the [Page 3] Reign of King Charles the Second. I am absolutely of your mind, said Lisander; and I think one may say, that the Plain Dealer, and Sir Foplin, were the last of our English Comedies, as properly and as truly, as Cremutius Cordus cou'd say, that Brutus and Cassius were the last of the Romans. I perceive, said Mitis, that you two are Confederate against the Modern Comedies, and I shall have much ado to defend them against so Potent an Alliance. But I beseech you Gentlemen, how comes this unmodish Opinion in you, against the Plays in Fashion? I'll tell you, continued Lisander, methinks they have neither the Wit, Conduct, Honour, nor Design of those Writ by Johnson, Shakspear, and Fletcher. They are (generally speaking) Flashy and Light; like your Whipt Cream they have little or nothing of Substance in them, they seem only suted to humour some present Maggot or Caprice of the Town, without any further Design; and that may be the Reason, that for the most part, when they have once [Page 4] had their Run, they are laid by; and rarely either Acted or Read again in Cool Blood. The Applause that is given them proves, as the Common Phrase is, but a Nine Days Wonder. Whereas there is hardly a Scene in Shakspeare (tho' he Writ near 100 years since) but we have it still in Admiration, for the Vivacity of the Wit, the Justness of the Character, and the True, Natural, and Proper Expression. Plays should be (and have always been in the best Reform'd and most Civilized times) Moral Representations, but now most of our New Comedies are become the very Pictures of Immorality. This is a general Charge, said Mitis, and fixes nothing. With Lisanders leave, said Julio, I will give you some particulars. First I must observe, that the Common Parts and Characters in our Modern Comedies, are two young Debauchees whom the Author calls Men of Wit and Pleasure, and sometimes Men of Wit and Sense (but that is when they admire the Name of Lucretius, and seem to have a Judgment [Page 5] above the Common Doctrines of Religion) these two Sparks are mightily addicted to Whoring and Drinking. The Bottle and the Miss (as they Phrase it) twisted together make their Summum Bonum; all their Songs and Discourse is on that Subject. But at last, partly for Variety of Faces, and partly in Consideration of improving their Estate (shatter'd with Keeping) they Marry two young Ladies, one of which is as wild as possibly can be, so as to scape the Main Chance, the other more reserved, but really as forward to be Marry'd as her Sister. Another necessary Ingredient of a Comedy, is a foolish Kt. (sometimes a Rich Country Squire, but most commonly the Poet Dubs him) and his Fortune is always in the 5th Act to Marry a Cast Whore of one of those fine Gentlemen before mentioned, who like a Man of Honour (such as the Poet makes him) pretends that she is a Person of Quality, and his near Kinswoman. Add to these a Wife somewhat Elderly; but insatiably Liquorish after a fresh Gallant; [Page 6] with a Husband continually exclaiming against the intolerable Labour of a Marry'd Life, and the restless importunities of his Spouse (and yet this unconscio able Cuckold keeps a Whore, incognita). These are the Fundamentals of a Modern Comedy: These you have continually over and over again, the Names only vary'd, and some little Alteration in the Writing (most commonly for the worse) till the Humours are become Naucious. For instance, a Lewd Wife pretending Honour (like my Lady Corkwood, in she wou'd if she cou'd) but Lasciviously coveting the two Sparks that are Suiters to her Nieces, and all that Run; was New, well contrived, and very diverting at first; and to have it a second time under other Names, in Epsom Wells, was tolerable; but to have the very same again in the Virtuoso, and ten years after that in the Scourers.
You are somewhat pleasant, said Mitis interrupting, in your Rehearsal of our Comick Materials, but withal, Julio, you are partial; for there is hardly any New Comedy that appears on the Stage, but has some New Part different from what has been before. 'Tis true, Reply'd Julio, there is indeed often added a New Quelque chose, or (as commonly call'd) a Kikshaw, or two, to set off the Entertainment, but these are the standing Dishes, and so often have they been served up, that they are now become Fusty, and will hardly go down with the Waiters. It puts me in mind, said Lisander, of a Frugal Tobacconist, who having a small Twist of Excellent Tobacco given him, was Resolved to manage it to the utmost Advantage; the first Day therefore, he chaw'd it, and then put it in his Pocket to dry again, the next day he cut it and Smoakt it in his Pipe, and after all saved the Ashes to serve him in a Third Capacity, for Snush. But this Tedious Repetition of the same Notions and Images, continued [Page 8] Lisander, might be endured, if they were directed to the improvement of Virtue, or the discountenance of Vice. On the Contrary, we seldom or never see a Character of True Worth, Integrity, and Honour, in any of these Comedies, unless it be brought in meerly to be abused, and Laugh'd out of Countenance. The Debauchee is always the fine Gentleman: 'Tis he that is set up for an Example fit for Imitation and Esteem. And to say the Truth the young Gentry of the Nation have been in this particular Wonderful apt and pregnant Scholars. Whereas in the Comedies of the last Age, tho' you have sometimes People of an ill Character represented, yet they had always some Mark of Disgrace set upon them before the End of the Play; and the contrary Virtue to that Vice was always Triumphant, and made the more Amiable and desirous when compar'd and set off with the Blemishes of the other. With your permission, said Mitis, I doubt you are under a great mistake in this; for our Wits and Criti [...]ks have more [Page 9] than once inform'd us, that Instruction is not the business of Comedy, but Diversion and Laughter. Moral Precepts, say they, are only proper to Tragedy and Grave Subjects: While the Right Object of Comedy is the True and Lively Representation of the Manners and Behaviour of Mankind in the times we Live in, so as to make a pleasant Entertainment, and that's all. Our Poets, continued he, represent the Modern little Actions of Debauchees, as Ben Johnson presented the Humours of his Tankard Bearer, his Pauls Walkers, and his Collegiate Ladies, &c. things then known and familiar to every Bodies Notice; and so are these now, and consequently delightful to the times, as Pictures of Faces well known and remarkable. These, Answered Julio, were Ben Johnsons Weaknesses, and have been as such sufficiently exploded by our New fashion'd Wits, and therefore methinks they should not be imitated by them of all Men Living. Such Representations are like a Painters taking a Picture after the Life in the [Page 10] Apparel then Worn, which becomes Ungraceful or Ridiculous in the next Age, when the Fashion is out. Mitis thought me under a mistake, said Lisander, but I wish he be not Guilty of a greater in thinking a pleasant Entertainment to be the only Design of a Comedy. Let your Wits and your Criticks say what they please, they can never convince me, but that the True End of Comedy as well as Tragedy, ought to be the Reformation of Manners, tho they differ in the Operation. The Subject of Tragedy being high, the Precepts, Sententious and Grave, and the Moral carries something of Terrour against those who are Great and Wicked, and Raises Compassion for the Sufferings of Good Men. On the other Hand, Comedy relates to the Inferior sort of Mankind, but shou'd be directed to the same End, it should render the Ill Habits of the Vulgar Odious as well as Ridiculous, it should make Folly Blush, and Men ashamed of their Vices; and Encourage Virtue. On the contrary some of our Late Comedies [Page 11] have given the greatest Countenance to Libertinism that can be. by setting forth the extravagant Debauches of the Age as the True Character of a Gentleman, and only Fools and half Witted Creatures to be Considerate and Sober. Tho' they have not dared openly to oppose the Precepts of Religion, yet they have continually Rail'd against Marriage, as a Curse and Imposition upon Nature; and at the same time set off Whoring with all the Delicacy of Expression, and most obliging Character they could invent. They have not been so Bold as yet (what it may come to in time, I know not) to Represent Obscene Actions on the Stage, nor to Use the Plain downright Expressions of Immodesty, but certainly there is such a continued Thred of Lascivious Meaning (commonly called Baudry in Clean Linnen) that Runs through a whole Play, and such apparent and obvious Phrases, that most of them must of necessity be taken in a Lewd Signification, or else they are Nonsense and Absurd. On this Account I think it [Page 12] almost impossible, for the Youth of either Sex to return from one of these Comedies with their Fancy as Innocent, as they went. Poetry, the Dramatique especially, has been properly called a speaking Picture, as Painting, Dumb Poesie. Which Charles Alphonse du Fresnoy, in the beginning of his Poem De Arte Graphicâ, has thus curiously exprest,
Now do but imagine, if the Ideas which these Modern Comedies are full of, were represented by the Pensil to the Eye, in as lively manner as some of our Poets set them forth to the Intellect, would not this be a fitting Object to be exposed to the Publick, think you? I will pass over the disrespect that has been shewn to the Clergy of all Opinions (thereby insinuating Religion to be but a meer Trade at best) tho' some Scenes have [Page 13] been so gross, that they have been refused to be Acted, and cut out as Undecent for a Publick Representation (and yet the Poet has been so fond of them, as to Print 'em with the Rest, in a different Character) However I cannot but observe, that a Statute was made in the Third Year of King James 1. whereby it was Enacted, That if at any time or times, any Person or Persons, do or shall in any Stage Play, Jestingly or Prophanely speak, or Ʋse the Holy Name of God, or of Christ Jesus, which are not to be spoken but with Fear and Reverence, he shall Forfeit for every such Offence Ten Pounds; the one Moity thereof to the King, the other to him or them that shall sue for the same. How often this Penalty has been incurr'd, I will not determine. 'Tis well we know you, Lisander, said Mitis Smiling; a Stranger wou'd think you nearly Related to William Prin, and that you are about to Compose a Supplement to his H [...]striomastix. So far from that, Answer'd Lisander, that I profess my self a Lover of the Stage; I Esteem Plays [Page 14] (if duly Regulated) to be of Excellent Use, for Instruction by Examples, for the Improvement of Wit, and for Innocent diversion of that vacant time, which otherwise might be worse imploy'd. What I have said is in Order to their Continuance, by a timely Reformation of those Scandals which are but too visible and noted. 'Tis well known, that their Suppression has been endeavour'd once or twice; and the Actors are not the first sort of Men here in England, whose Institution, tho' it was at first Good and Laudable, yet being afterwards abused, their Enemies have taken occasion from the Abuse, wholly to forbid the Use. The Athenians and Romans, when their Comedies became Licentious, thought it not below the Dignity and Care of their Magistrates to Regulate their Faults. And of later times, we have a fresher and nearer Instance of the Reformation of the Stage. That Great Man, the Cardinal Duke of Richelieu, to whose Wise Councils France does at this day, perhaps, owe all her present Grandeur, [Page 15] among all his other Noble Cares for the Advantage of that Kingdom, made it none of the least to Reform the French Stage, that from a scandalous Load of Nautious Farce, which few of Quality wou'd Grace with their Presence, the Objects of the Theatre are now become so Regular and Modest, that Ladies of the Nicest Honour, and the Gravest Church Men see 'em without Offence. Or to Use the Words of my French Author —Par les soins du Grand Cardinal ae Richelieu, la Comedie a tellement changé de face, qu'il n'y reste plus rien de ce qui la faisoit autrefois condamner. Now really I wou'd not have a Nation of the Roman Catholick Communion boast of any sort of Reformation, in which we of the Reform'd Religion are wanting.
Here this Discourse was broke off for some time. After which Interruption the Company being again settled, Mitis put Julio in mind of his Promise to give particular instances of the Defects and Blemishes of our late Comedies, and of the contrary Beauties of [Page 16] those before the Wars. Whereupon Julio, in a long Discourse, produced out of Ben. Johnson, Shakspear, Beaumont and Fletcher, Messenger, Shirley, and Sir William Davenant, before the Wars, and some Comedies of Mr. Drydens, since the Restauration, many Characters of Gentlemen, of a quite different Strain from those in the Modern Plays. Whose Conversation was truly Witty, but not Lewd, Brave and not Abusive; Ladies full of Spirit and yet Nicely Virtuous; with abundance of Passages discovering an admirable Invention, and quickness of thought, and yet decently facetious. On the contrary he gave infinite Examples out of Modern Comedies of another Stamp, mistaken Images of Bravery, Virtue despised, and the very Genius of Immodesty, not dropt here and there, but so diffused, that it seems the Soul of the Play. He took occasion to speak of the Comick Scenes in Tragedies, or Tragick Stories, (much used by the Poets of the last Age) which they called Tragy-Comedies; he shew'd how useful they [Page 17] were in many Respects, but that they were always subservient to the main Design, and were used chiefly to Illustrate, Highthen, and set off, the Moral of the Play. He shew'd also how those Poets had always in their thoughts that Old Verse,
And that those who Writ most Correct and considerately squared their Designs by that Rule. But now said he, the Ʋtile seems wholly lost and forgotten, and the Dulce is become Pall'd, Corrupted, and Sowr; as Hony it self, and the best sort of Sweet Meats will be with keeping. Julio was going on in this manner, but the Coach was now Arrived at Lisanders Village, and the Noise of the Bells that were Ringing to welcome his Coming, would not suffer any further Discourse at that time.
SECT. II. Of Drinking.
LYsander being thus possest of the Society of those two Persons whom he Wrote in the first List of his Friends, was Resolved to give them all the Diversions his Country could afford, which was certainly Inferiour to no Part of England for all sorts of Game, and good Humour'd Conversation. To Visit and be Visited, are the usual Ways by which those of the better sort pass off their vacant time in the Country. Two or three days after Lisander's Arrival, several of the Neighbouring Gentry came to Welcome his Return. Among whom was Belamy a Gentleman of Handsom Parts, and Wit enough, but he had Learnt at Oxford (where he had spent some years) among other Arts, the Science of good Drinking. Which, [Page 19] with his Country Practice since, had render'd him most expert, in that Noble Science. He knew the Nature and Force of all sorts of Wines, and had made an Engine (of which he was the Inventer) whereby to Essay, or Prove 'em, as they do Gunpowder, and know how far they wou'd carry, and at what distance of time do Execution. The Learning of Wines being somewhat Foreign, required more of Reading and Study, and a kind of Mathematical Head to make his Conclusions; but as for Our Manufacture, all the abstruse Questions relating to Ale, were so easie and obvious to his understanding, that (as I may say) it was his proper Element. He knew how by its own natural ferment (without the least Adultery of Art) to Raise, Refine, Highten, and even inebriate the Liquor it self. To this end only he had Study'd the Principles of Astronomy, and could tell you the Critical Minute when most successfully to brew, when to Tun, when to Bottle, and when to Drink; and how many hours Sleep is requisite after [Page 20] a full Dose, a half Dose, and a quarter Dose. All this Curious Learning and forty times as much more on the same Subject, Belamy was a Compleat Master of. After Dinner the Bottles began to Muster according to Modern Discipline. Mitis and Julio, foresaw an Assault, and began to cast up all the Arguments they could, to fortifie their Camp against the Enemy: Mitis especially, who was one of those Stanch and Abstemious Humourists that Drink more Tea than Claret; understand me, between Meals; for at Dinner he always took his Glass in Course, and thought it then as absurd to forbear Wine as to drink Coffee. Belamy who happen'd to fit next him, and having observed him at Dinner to drink freely enough, and never balk a Health, he concluded he would do the like at all times; perceiving therefore now, that he trifled with his Glass, and (as he Phrased it) did not Drink fairly, he began to press upon him, and urge him to be sociable, alledging for a main Argument, that after this Rate we shall [Page 21] be Drunk before you. Mitis a little moved to find the Conscience less free in Drinking than Religion, Reply'd, Do you Esteem that an Advantage, or disadvantage? a Happiness, or Misfortune? Let me perish if I can imagine which you think it. For if you think it a misfortune, who constrains you to drink a stronger Liquor, or in a greater quantity, than I do? But if you think it a Happiness or Advantage, what Reason have you to complain of that? This was a Dilemma which Bellamy was not at that time prepared to Answer, he therefore Balkt the Question, as Mitis had done the Glass, and in a more Complaisant manner, entreated him to begin a Health, such as he pleas'd. Will you then pledge me in Tea, said Mitis. Not while there is Wine in the County, Reply'd the other. And what, continued Mitis, should oblige me to Drink your Liquor, more than you mine? Suppose a Water Drinker here (you know there are many such) whose long continued Custom has made it natural to drink nothing but [Page 22] pure Element. Wou'd you think it Civility to press him to pledge you a Bumper in Claret, or on the other hand, wou'd you not think him Mad to urge you to Pledge a Pint Glass from the Cistern? A Water Drinker, says Bellamy, is Company for my Horse, and unfit for Society. Hereupon M [...]tis demanded, what do you call Society? The other reply'd readily, Wit, Mirth, and good Humor; which none can be Master of without a generous Bottle. And yet, said Mitis, Voiture drunk Water. That very Name has the force of a thousand Arguments against you. Besides, VVater is the natural Drink of the whole Creation; the only Drink, in probability, before the Flood, when Mankind lived to the extravagancy of Old Age; and certainly could we reduce our selves to that which was Adam's Liquor, and leave that of Noah, whose first appearance in the VVorld was unluckly and ominous, we should avoid a thousand Distractions, & (which is the constant effect of Drinking in me) as many painful Surfeits and [Page 23] Feavers. That's only for want of Practice, said Belamy; if you did but use it more, you would not be disturb'd; no more than I, who am as Brisk and well next day after my three Bottles over Night, as if it were Mothers Milk. Are you sure it agrees so well with you, said Mstis slily, I should be apt to think it does not. Do you think me, answered Belamy somewhat hastily, a Fool or a Mad-Man? VVhy sure you'l give me leave to understand my own Constitution better than you; and Judge of my own Temper from Experience truer than you can. You have Reason, answer'd Mitis; and why must I be supposed such an Ideot that I cannot do the same of my Temper from my Experience? You Advise me to Drink VVine more frequently, that it may by constant practice, be familiar to my Stomach, and that I may have my Health after it. Is not this Ridiculous, when I have my Health already without it? I know there is a sort of People who think it conducing to their Health (or at least their Pleasure) once or twice [Page 24] a VVeek to be very Merry, as they call it, that is in English, down Drunk: and this in their Phrase is to give Nature a Fillip. How you approve of this I know not, for my part I think such a Course of Life as far from pleasure as it is from Health. An other thing I have observed among your Good Fellows, which in my Opinion is extreamly obsurd; if one Man drinks his Glass less full than his who drank to him, the other cries out in a very Pathetical manner,; Nay Sir, Do me Justice—mine was higher. As if the Contents of one Man's Stomack were the Standard for all Men. They call this Justice, which in reality is the greatest Injustice that belongs to Society. Suppose it were the Custom to Eat Healths and not drink'em (as I see no Reason for one more than t'other.) There are some of such Voracious Appetites, that one Man can Eat a whole Shoulder of Mutton at a Bout, or perhaps a Leg of Pork and Turnips. Wou'd you think it reasonable for one of these Eaters to desire his Friends to pledge him, and [Page 25] take off a whole Shoulder? Perhaps his next Neighbour at Table is one of those who have an Aversion for Hogs Flesh, wou'd you think it Civil for one of these Devourers aforesaid to Eat a Health, and press the other to do him Justice, and Pledge him in five or six pound of Pork? Away with your naucious Similes, interrupted Belamy, who ever heard of Eating Healths? The Debate, said Mitis, is not of Eating or Drinking, but measuring the Contents of one Man's Appetite by that of an other.—But what is a Health? Belamy readily gave him this Definition; A Health is only a hearty Wish between two, for the Good and Prosperity of a third Person; and as an Evidence to demonstrate the Reality of our Intention, we take off a Bumper, tho perhaps against ones Stomach: Nay, the bigger the Glass is, and the more against nature, the stronger our Affection. A most excellent Demonstration of well wishing! cryed Mitis; something like this, continued he, I have read, of a sort of Bigotted Turks, [Page 26] who in the hight and transport of their Zeal, to shew their Love and Devotion to Mahomet, cut and gash their own Flesh, and Stab themselves in the Hand. But here's the difference, some Men among us, when they demonstrate on such occasions as you mention, instead of Wounding themselves they Stab others. Come, come, said Belamy, all your Argumentation signifies not a rush, the Practice of all Europe in this Age, is against you; and Custom must prevail. In my mind, reply'd Mitis, our Ancestors the Old Britans had a much better Custom, for which they were proposed as an Example of Temperance: Witness the Poet,
Which with your permission may be English'd thus,
Methinks' said Belamy, arbitrio suo may as well be taken in an other quite different sence, and with the same Liberty that you have used, I may render it thus
The rest of the Company who had been hitherto very Attentive to the pleasant Dialogue, could no longer forbear to interpose. Julio, either out of Complaisance to Belamy, being a stranger, or minded to Rally Mitis, highly applauded B [...]lamy's Version; saying, it shew'd the very Spirit of Ben. Johnson, when indulging his Genius in the Apollo. Lisander smiled and said he liked the Witty Evasion of the Authors Sence. Others, who were Brothers of the Bottle, were Lavish in their Commendation, and that they might never forget so useful a piece of Poetry, they Writ it down in their Table Books. One of the Company, an Old Cavalier of Gray Age, but of a Wit and Judgment [Page 28] as Vigorous as ever, said, Belamy's Shift puts me in mind of an Evasion that was made (somewhat to better purpose) many years ago, in the time of Oliver's Rebellion. The Parlimentarian Party were very apt to Argue the Righteousness of their Cause from the Success; saying, that God owned his People, and manifested the Justice of their Undertakings by the many Victories which he gave them, and a great deal of Cant to that purpose. One of that side who pretended to Learning, said, the Notion was acknowledged in all Ages, which made Lucan Write,
A Royalist then present of a Wit as far Superiour to his, as his Principles were better, Replyed, Consider the whole Verse together, and it makes against you.
Now all History tells us of what Eminent Virtues, and how excellent a Man That Cato was; and we are still better inform'd, from the Holy Scripture, that the Heathen Gods were Devils, Omnes Dii gentium Daemonia. (Psal. 95. v. 5.) The plain English therefore of that Verse in Lucan is no more than this;
This Translation, says Julio, would certainly have pleas'd Father Bouhours, who in all probability would have prefer'd it to the Latine, since in the very beginning of his Man ere de bien penser, he falls foul on Lucan for representing, in that place, a Mortal Man to be of a better Character for Justice and Compassion, than the Gods, contrary to the Universally received Notions of a Deity. Hereupon they fell into a long Discourse of Translated Verse. Lisander affirm'd that none can be properly said to Translate well, unless he improves the [Page 30] Author's Thought, or at least meliorates the Expression in English beyond what it is in Latine, which rarely happens, unless it be from one who has great Judgment in both Languages. And for this reason the Translation of Latine Poetry, Verbally, into English Prose, (or bad Verse, which is worse) is Dull and Flat, tho' never so good in the Original, because it wants the Delicacy of Expression, and the Harmony of Measure and Cadence, which belongs to true Poesie. Julio acknowledged what Lisander said, to be undoubted Truth, and observed further, that the Poets of this Age, however short they may be of some of their Predecessors in other matters; yet they much excell them in the Art of Versifying; I mean for easie and Genuine Expression, and smooth composure of their Lines, placing their Words so as may most agree with the usual way of speaking, and not begining a Period in the middle of one Verse, and ending it in the middle of the next. In which particulars most, if not all the Poets of [Page 31] the last Age were very Faulty and Ungraceful in their Writings. And yet, said Mitis, I remember a Latine Couplet, Witty enough, which I think better exprest in English, above 100 years ago, (as seems by the Measure.) It is a piece of an Epigram relating to a Clock: The Words are these,
The rest I have forgot, both of the Latine and English, except only this Conclusion,
Here the thought is as full as in the Original, but much more intelligibly exprest to an English Ear, than if he had said, That Leaden Chains give swift Feet, the harshness of the Metaphor being mollified in the Translation. Which is the more observable, added Lisander, in regard the Writers [Page 32] of those times do so very much superabound in uneasie Figures, and hardly any thing was then admitted to be well and Scholar-like pen'd, unless it were almost all Metaphor, and Catachresis. In the mean time, says Belamy, we forget our Business; the Wine dies, the Glass sleeps, and the Butler grows Pursey for want of Exercise: Away with your Poetry and Poets, the best use we can make of them at present is, in my opinion, to Drink all their Healths from Homer down to Ben. The Extravagancy of such a Proposal made Mitis start, who reply'd, that to do so wou'd take up more time than he designed to spend in the Country, and he question'd whether Lisander's Celler could supply them all. Besides, says he, I must be first satisfied by a Divine, whether Drinking a Health to the Deceased be not as Superstitious and Unlawful as to pray for them. Well then, said Belamy, since we must not remember them this way, let us e'en take a friendly Round or two, and forget 'em. Lisander proposed, as a means [Page 33] to gratifie both Parties, the Drinkers, and the Wits, that Mitis and Julio should at this time comply in some reasonable degree with Belamy, and in return, he and all the Rest of the Company should at the next Meeting produce a Specimen of Translated Verse of their own performance, all which should be impartially Examined by the Rest; thereby to discover, if not an Example of good Translation, yet at least how it should be such. What Lisander mention'd was not unpleasing to any; each Man in the Company undertook to perform his part, according to his Talent, both for Drinking and VVriting. The Rest of the Evening they Sacrificed to Bacchus, till the Company Parted, all having enough, and some too much.
SECT. III. Of Translated Verse.
IT was about a fortnight or three Weeks after, before all those who had undertaken this Exercise of the Muses could meet. At last they happen'd together at Lisanders: Who after a Noble Treat at Dinner, led his Friends to his favourite Walk in the Bottom of his Park. It was cut out and contrived on the Bank of a most delightsome River, as well stored with all sorts of Fish, as the Swans would permit; the Walk was as Broad, and even as the Mall, and above half as long, but not so strait, it humouring the Meanders of the Stream. The whole length of the Walk was skirted on the one Hand with a Wood continually full of Nightingales, Throstles, Stockdoves, and such Silvan Musick; the outward Branches of which were so Luxuriant, that they spred [Page 35] themselves with little or no intermission, as a Natural Canopy from one end of the Walk to the other. On the other side, opposite to the Wood, ran along a most sweet and clear River, and beyond that lay such a Beautious Prospect of Meadows, so deckt at that time with Primroses, Daisies, and other such like wild Gayities of the forward Spring, as if Nature had defied the most skilful Jeweller to shew a pleasanter Enamel. Lisander had contrived on the Wood side of this Walk several Seats and Resting places, but one more especial about the Middle. It was a kind of small Summer House Placed opposite to a Visto that for Eight or Ten Miles forward, cut through all the delightful Objects that fancy can desire in the most pleasing Landskip. Here it was that Lisander having seated the Company, remember'd them of the Translated Essays they had all promised; and because he was the Promoter of the Undertaking, himself first began with Repeating these Lines out of the Sixth Book of Virgils Aeneads.
Which, said he, I have ventured to render thus, in English.
Mitis began to Applaud the Translation, when Lisander cut him short, saying, that he did not propose these Essays for Applause, either to himself or others; but on the contrary to occasion handsom Exceptions, and discoveries not of Beauties, but Defects and Blemishes (which he knows the Company can make) in Order thereby [Page 37] to teach one how to write Correctly. And I am of Opinion, continued he, that no Man can be said truly to write well, unless he can find Fault well. For Faults, like Diseases, when perfectly discover'd are half Cured. Hereupon Julio said, I tell you frankly then Lisander, I shou'd not like your Expression in the second Line —Make the cold Marble live—as too bold and extravagant, were it not Justified in the Original by spirantia aera, and Vivos Vultus: But there is a real Fault, or rather Defect in your Translation, for which I can Frame no manner of excuse. You have omitted Parcere Subjectis, which seems to me to be the most material Part of the Character which Virgil here gives of an excellent Prince, or Governor; Mercy and Forbearance are Attributes of the Deity, and nothing can be more Great and Godlike in a Ruler. Therefore Debellare Superbos, and not parcere Subjectis at the same time, as it is but half the Advice of Anchises to Aeneas, (or under that Fiction, of Virgil to Augustus) so it is but half the [Page 38] sense of your Author. Lisander acknowledged the Truth of what Julio said, and thank'd him, for expressing his free Thought. Belamy happen'd to sit next to Lisander, and was therefore as next in Order, requested to produce something or other that he had fancied since the last Meeting. I profess, replyed he briskly, I have not of late met any thing more agreeable to my Humour, than an Old Chanson a boire in one of Molier's Comedies.
Which I thus English,
A Chanson a Boire, said Mitis, is of so slight a Nature, that it can hardly afford either matter or words substantial enough to bear an exception; things of this kind are supposed to be writ as it were extempore o're a Glass of Wine, with little or no Consideration, [Page 40] and therefore have all the Grains of allowance that can possibly be given. And for that reason I cannot in this, tho in an other sort of Poem I should disapprove the last Words, does the Feat, as a low and abject Phrase. Yet, said Julio, if a Word be used improperly, or in a sense that it will not bear, it may be justly condemn'd; for example, in the first Stanza,—Death will all our Joys Deface. Deface is a word that relates properly to Objects of the Sight, as to Deface a Writing, a Monument, a Picture, &c. Now Joys are Notional and may be said to be Defeated, Destroyed, or Determined, but, as I conceive, not properly to be Defaced; no more than to deface ones pleasure, or deface a Jest or fit of Laughter. After all added Lisander, I think his English to be better than the French Original, as including the Authors sense in less Compass, and fewer Idle Words. Here Charleson (for that was the Name of the Old Cavalier former [...]y mention'd) recited the beginning of that Famous Ode in the 3 d Book of Horace, [Page 41] which, said he, we that suffer'd in the times of Rebellion and Anarchy, did sometimes use to apply to our selves, by way of Incouragement.
I shall give ye occasion enough of Exception, continued he, when I tell you my English.
This Translation, said Lisander, has fully and handsomly exprest the Sense of the Latine; but not after the Poetical [Page 42] Phrase of the Author. And tho' Nor Winds, nor Waves, nor Thunder—gives us the true signification and meaning, of Ne (que) Auster Dux turbidus Adriae, nec Jovis Manus—Yet in my Opinion a Translator must not neglect those Figurative ways of speaking; for if so, we should loose the Intelligence of the Old received Fictions, without which we can never perfectly understand all the Beauties of the Latine Poets. I cannot approve, said Julio, of the word Mob, in these Verses, which tho significant enough, yet it is a word but of Late Use, and not sufficiently Naturalized to appear in a serious Poem: Besides, I esteem it a kind of Burlesque word, and unsutable to the Dignity of Horace. There is an other word, said Mitis, which I cannot pass without a Remark; and that is the Particle, Nay, which I know is of Common use in Prose to highten and aggravate the Subject of Discourse, but I cannot think it graceful in Verse, as a too familiar and slight way of speaking. 'Tis without all question, there are [Page 43] some words which are allowable in Prose, but not in a Poem; such as the word Lad, which the Great Cowley tells in the Notes on his Davideis, is not proper to be Read in an Heroick Poem, and therefore uses the Word Boy instead of it; and yet the word Lad is prefer'd in the English Translation of the Scriptures, from whence he takes the Argument and Foundation of his Work. After this it came in Course to a Gentleman whose Name I have forgot, to produce his Specimen; he told the Company, that he had lately happen'd upon a French Epigram of a New and surprising Turn, the manner of the Poets expressing his Design, in the Close, pleas'd me so well, said he, that I cou'd not forbear trying, how the Thought wou'd shew in English. It is an Address to Cardinal Richelieu, form'd in such an Air, that in my mind, it is the neatest (or if you will) the gentilest way of begging a great Man's favour, not without something like Reproach for neglect, that ever I met with. The French is this,
And my English this,
Believe me Sir, said Lisander, you have hansomly and well exprest the Authors Turn of Thought in the Conclusion, but I must needs say, you have so little observed the Authors Expressions in all that goes before, that in my Opinion, this cannot properly be called a Translation, but rather some Verses writ in imitation of the French. You have well Paraphrased the Author's meaning in the main; but certainly as a good Translation ought not on the one hand, to be Literal or Verbal without a due Liberty to the property of Expression in our Language; so on the the other, it must not be a meer Paraphrase on the Author's General Design, without any respect to his form [Page 46] of expression. Julio added, that he could wish the word what had not been twice used so close together in the two last Lines, What you have, and what wou'd you, for besides that correct Writers forbear to repeat the same words near the place where they have been used already, (unless the Enargy of the sense does absolutely require it) the word what is harsh and unpleasant in the English Tongue, as the word Car in the French; which Monsieur de Gomberville one of those Select Wits who composed the French Academy, rejected as offensive, and fitter for a Disputation than a Romance or Poem; and brag'd that he had not at all made use of that word in composing the five Volumes of Polexander. After this Mitis produced Mr. Cowleys Epitaph in Westminster Abby, render'd by him into English.
Belamy who had been silent a long while, this dry Discourse being insipid to him; cou'd not now forbear observing to Mitis (his Old Antagonist) that in his Opinion he has taken too great a Liberty in the beginning of his Version, the Latine mentioning Cowley in the second Person, which he has vary'd in the English to the third, contrary (as he thinks) to the Rules of a True and Just Translation. Julio said, that his addition of the Word weep, tho' i [...] does really improve the sense, yet being placed unluckily at the end of the Line, looks as if it was taken in, only for the Rhime sake. Lisander observed, that the Conclusion [Page 48] of this Epitaph (especially as Mitis has exprest it in English) has much the like thought with that composed for Michael Drayton whose Monument is very little distant from Mr. Cowley's, and that the sense of their Epitaphs in this particular, is almost as near as their Graves; for thus the Composer of Mr. Drayton's Epitaph is supposed to speak to the Marble that covers him.
Here Julio was call'd upon to produce his Essay of Translation. He said he had lately chopt upon some Latine Verses which he found written before a Burtons Melancholy, the Author of which Book assumed the Name of Democritus Junior.
The Latine pleased me so well, continued Julio, that I tryed to turn 'em into English; but so unsuccessfully, that I am ashamed of the Attempt.
As Julio had before play'd the Critick on the several Translations of all the Company, so now every Man thought himself obliged to make some Remark on his. Mitis said, that he had used more figurative Expressions in his English, than the Author had in the [Page 50] Latine, such as let thy Salt Showers fall, instead of Fleas. And that in his Opinion, Figures are less allowable in our Language than in the Roman. Charleson said his Addition, yet all wou'd be too few, admits of the same exception, which himself made but just before to Mitis about the word Weep, and one need only repeat his own Words, [tho' it does somewhat improve the Authors thought, yet being placed unluckily at the end of the Line, it looks as if it were taken in, only for the Rhime's sake] so common a thing is it for a man to trip in the very place where he observed another to stumble. A third said, if those words were not added for the Rhime's sake, yet he fears the word Careers in the Plural was, for I fancy, continued he, had it Rhimed, Career in the singular had been better English: Yet it seems to me to be but an untoward and ill chosen Word, at best. Others made other Observations of less Note, which I have forgot. Julio thankt the Company for the Honour they did him in examining his Verses more [Page 51] closely than the others; but, added he, after all you have not discover'd half the Faults. In such like Discourses the time slipt away insensibly; when Lisander having observed the Sun near setting, rise up from his Seat, and ended the Friendly Debate with this Verse of Virgil,
I cannot imagine, said Belamy, how you apply that; for if you design it to us, nothing can be more improper; since we are so far from having drunk enough, that Drink is the only thing that has been wanting. If you love me therefore, let us make all convenient hast back to your house, Lisandey, and redeem the time, for really I have lost an Afternoon strangely. They all smiled, and return'd. As they walkt Julio acknowledged he began to be tired with the Afternoons Work; whick lookt so like School-Boys producing their Exercise, that he cou'd not choose but remember with a kind of Terror, the Rod and Ferula. True, [Page 52] said Mitis, we were all like School-Boys in one respect, but we were all Masters in another, since we all judged, Censured, and Corrected. Or as Ovid says of Baucis and Philemon,
SECT. IV. Of Painting and Painters.
AMong other Visits which Lisander and his two Friends were obliged to repay, one was to Eugenius, a Gentleman whose Seat was about Seven or Eight Miles distant from that of Lisander, Eugenius had Travell'd in his younger years, and perform'd the Grand Toure; after his return into England, he had lived at Court in a very handsome Station, but some years since he had quitted his Office there, and given himself wholly to a Country Retirement. Since when he imploy'd himself much after the Italian [Page 53] Fashion in Building, and imbelishing his House and Gardens. Out of the Ruins of an Old Priory he had erected one of the Neatest Houses in that County for true and Regular Architecture, and Curious Contrivance. It was choicely furnisht within, but in no particular more singular and observable than for a Select and valuable Collection of Original Paintings, which he had purchased, at a very considerable expence, in Italy and France. He had always a Great fancy for the Art of Designing, and had been taught something of it when young, which he had extreamly improved by the Instructions of the best Masters at Rome. In his later times of Leasure he used the Pensil often, which he call'd his most pleasing Diversion, and his Idle Hours more Honestly imploy'd than in that which some call business. His Genius inclined him most to Landskip-Painting in which he had a very pretty manner, and almost all that he performed appear'd with a free and Noble Gust. Mitis and Julio no sooner approach'd [Page 54] the House, but they took Notice of some of the Old Ruins, which Eugenius had purposely left standing at a little Distance, esteeming such Marks of Venerable Antiquity, no blemish, but rather Beauty, like the Ruins of Old Rome among the Modern Palaces. One might easily perceive where the Church and Cloyster had been, by the Remains of an Old Wall, which lookt as if it had Wrestled with an Earthquake; and tho' the Legs, and Arms, and even its very Neck were broken, yet the heart remain'd still firm and unshaken. Julio who omited no occasion to Magnifie the Wit of the Dramatick Poets of the last Age, said, this Object has the Beauty of an old Medal; the Sight is like that of a Good Picture, where all the while a Man views it, his Phansie is still working, and the more he looks, the more he discovers to please him. Nothing can possibly better sute with my Thoughts on this Occasion, than what Antonio says in the Dutchess of Malfy, a Tragedy Writ by Webster.
Eugenius who had discover'd their coming, received them in his outward Court with great Civility. After the usual Complements were over, Mitis could not forbear to extol the Delicacy of the Scituation, protesting that he never beheld a Circle of Prospects, or as the French call it les Environs more agreeable than what Eugenius enjoys from this Seat, which to me (said he) seems the very Center of Delights. But you will perhaps, said Lisander, be more surprized with Admiration when you enter the House, and see how Artificially Eugenius has contracted the whole Circle into the [Page 56] Center. Mitis exprest a kind of impatiency to behold so great a Rarity. Eugenius therefore readily conducted the Company into a very fair withdrawing Room, Curiously Wainscoted with Cedar; some Parts of the Cornish and Frames were Gilded; the Pannels, which were Large and High, contain'd so many Landskips; they were all the several Views about the Lordship, not the least thing omited that was any way Remarkable, and so Artificially placed, that they were posited exactly as the Real places lay, according to the Compass, for the Room was not square, but contrived orbicular, or rather cast into sixteen Angles, the Pannels not being Concave, but Flat. Julio admired the Contrivance, and thought he could never sufficiently Applaud both the Design and performance. Mitis, who was himself a Lover, and had some Competent Judgment in the Art, after he had viewed 'em very intently sometime, said, here is one Beauty and Excellent Decorum in these Landskips, which I believe is not observed [Page 57] by every one that sees them. Tho' they are several Pieces, yet the Shadows of all are so placed, as if they were all seen at the same time of the Day, which makes every Pannel, shew like a several Window, and the Picture no more than a view in Perspective. You observe Right Sir, said Eugenius, 'twas so intended; for if the shadows had in the several Pictures, been placed more ways than one, and that not answering and agreeing in all, it would have lookt as if there had been several Suns shining in one Hemisphere. You may suppose therefore, that you see all these Objects two or three hours after Sun Rise about Midsummer, which I esteem the pleasantest part of the Day, and of the year. But these are Trifles, the next Room will shew you something more worth your Sight, hereupon he led them into a Large Gallery Richly Adorn'd with choice Italian Paintings: There was hardly a Great Name in Italy, but he had there some of his Work, with some of the best of the Flemings, and Plenty of Vandikes Portraits. [Page 58] He had also some Excellent Sculptures of Cavalier Bernini, and our own Mr. Gibbon. Julio protested that the Sight only of this Gallery was richly worth a Journey from London, or from any other, tho' it be the furthest, part of England. Mitis said he was confounded with so many admirable Objects, each having its particular Excellency tho in a different Manner of Expression. Lisander beg'd that Eugenius wou'd favour him with some Rules whereby to judge of the Great Masters, and their several and peculiar Manners. Eugenius's Modestly excused himself, saying, he was but an ill Instructor in an Art which he did not well understand himself; but having been lately reading in a French Author, something which relates to this Question, he will repeat it in Engliish as well as he can. They are, said he,
The Sentiments of Charles Alphonse Du Fresnoy, on the Works of the Principal and best Painters of the last Ages.
PAinting was in its Perfection among the Antient Greeks. The Principal Schools were at Sicyon, and after at Rhodes, Athens, Corinth, and lastly at Rome. War and Luxury having dissipated the Roman Empire, all Curious Arts, all polite Learning, and other Sciences, became extinct. But this began to appear again in the year 1450, among the Florentines, one of whom was Dominico Ghirlandi, Master of Michael Angelo, a Painter of some Considerable Name, tho' his manner was Gothick, and very dry.
Michael Angelo, his Disciple, appear'd in the time of Julius II, Leo X, Paul III, and eight succeeding Popes. He was not only a Painter, but a Sculptor, and Architect [Page 60] Civil and Military. The choice which he made of his The Posture and Action that any Figure is represented in. Attitudes was not always excellent, nor pleasing. His The Relish or Delight Resulting from the whole, also the manner. Gust in designing cannot be said to be the finest, nor his The Outward Lines. Contour the most Elegant. His folds of Garments, and Habits, were not very Beautiful nor Gracious.
He is somewhat Fantastic and extravagant in his Compositions, Rash and Hardy in taking to himself Licence against the Rules of Perspective. His Colouring is not very True nor pleasant. He knew not the Art of The Art of disposing the Lights and Shadows skilfully. Clair-obscur. He designed, and understood the Connexion of the Bones, the Function, and Scituation of the Muscles better than any of the Painters among the Moderns. He exprest a certain Grandeur and Security in his Figures, which took well in many places. But above all he was the greatest Architect that ever we knew of, having [Page 61] excell'd even the Antients themselves. Witness St. Peter's at Rome, St. John's at Florence, the Capitol, the Palace Farnese, and his own House. His Disciples were Marcel Venuste, Andrew de Vattere, le Rosse, George Vasare, Fra Bastian who usually Painted for him, with several other Florentines.
Peter Perugin, design'd with sufficient Intelligence of Nature, but it was Dry and Wither'd, and after a little Manner. He had for Disciple.
Raphiel Santio, who was born on Good-Friday in the year 1483, and died on Good-Friday in the year 1520, having lived but 37 years. He has surpast all the Modern Painters, in having more excellent parts in him all at once, and some think he equall'd the Antients, except in this that he did not design Naked Figures so skilfully as Michael Angelo. But his Gust in designing is much more pure, and finer. His Painting was not so good, so full, and of so Gracious a manner, as that of Corregio; nor had he the Contraste or Opposition of Clair-obscur, and the fierce and clean Colouring of [Page 62] Titian. But without Comparison, he had a better disposition in his Pieces than Titian, Corregio, Michael Angelo, and all other Painters that have ever been since that time. His choice of Attitudes, of Heads, of Ornaments, of his manner of Drapery, his manner of designing, his Varieties, his Contrastes, his Expressions were all perfectly good; but above all the Graces of his Pictures were such as no Man ever came near. His Heads Painted after the Life. Portraits are very well esteem'd. He was an excellent Architect. He was handsom, Tall, Civil and Obliging, never refusing to inform any one in what he knew. He had many Disciples, among others Julio Romano, Polidore, Gaudens, John d'Ʋdine, and Michael Coxis. His Graver was Marck Antoine, whose Prints are admirable for the Correction of the Contours.
Julio Romano was the most excellent of all Raphiels Disciples, and had some Conceptions more extraordinary, more profound, and more Majestick than his Master. He was also [Page 63] a great Architect; of a Gust Pure and Neat; a great imitator of the Antients, discovering in all his Works his desire to restore the Old Fotms and Fabricks of past Ages, to the Modern Practice. He had the good fortune to have persons of great Quality who rely'd wholly upon him for Buildings, Terms in Architecture, relating to several forms of Building. Vestibules, Tetrastile Portico's, Xistes, Theaters, and such other Places, not now in use. He had a Wonderful Judgment in the Election of Attitudes. His manner was the Hardest and dryest of all the School of Raphael; he did not very well understand the Clairobscur, and way of Colouring. He is stiff and ungraceful in many places. The folds of his Draperies are neither Beautiful, nor Great, nor Easie, not Natural, but all Fantastick and which resemble something the Habits of ill Comedians. He was very intelligent in all polite Learning. His Disciples were Pirro Ligorio, admirable for antique Buildings, Towns, Temples, Tombs, Trophies, and the Scituation of all [Page 64] Old Structures, Eneas Vico, Bonasone, George Mantuan and others.
Polidore, a Disciple of Raphaels, was Wonderful excellent at designing Pratique, having a peculiar Genius for Frises, as appears by those he Painted at Rome in Black and White. He imitated the the Antient Paintings and Sculpture. Antique, in a greater manner than Julio Romano, but Julio seems to be truest. One may see in his Works, some admirable A Knot or amasement of Figures standing together. Groupes such as are not to be seen elsewhere. His Colouring was extreamly Rare, and he has done some Landskips of a good Gust.
At Venice, John Bellin was one of the first that was taken Notice of, his Painting was extream dry after the manner of that Age. He very well understood Architecture and Perspective. He was Titians first Master, as one may perceive by the first Works of that Illustrious Disciple of his, in which is seen a property of Colours such as his Master used.
About the same time Georgion, cotemporary with Titian, became excellent for Portraits and Great Pieces. This was he who first took up the Election of Colours fierce and agreeable, which was after brought to perfection and the intire Harmony which appears in Titians Pictures. He set off his Figures extreamly well; and one may say, that had it not been for him, Titian had never rise to the degree of Excellency, for it was caused chiefly by the Emulation and Jealousie that was betwixt these two.
Titian was one of the greatest Colourists that ever was in the World. He designed with much more facility and experience than Georgion. The Women and Children of his hand are admirable for design and Colour, the Gust being Delicate, Neat and Noble, with a kind of pleasing Negligence in the Dress, in the Draperies, and Furniture, peculiar to him. His Figures of Men are such as nothing can be better designed; however there are some of his Draperies that are somewhat sad, and of little Gust. His Painting [Page 66] is extream fierce, sweet, and precious. His Portraits were Wonderfully Beautiful, his Attitudes extream handsom, grave, varied, and adorn'd after a most advantagious manner. Never Man wrought Landskips of so great a manner, of so good a Colouring, and expressing so much Truth. For the space of eight or ten years together, he copy'd with great exactness all that he did, to gain to himself a more easie Road, and to establish himself in the general Maxims. Besides that excellent Gust in Colouring, which he had above others, he perfectly understood how to give every thing its proper touches, whereby they are distinguisht from one another, and which gives 'em more Spirit and Life. The Pictures which he made at his beginning, and towards his latter end, are of a dry and lean manner. He lived 101 years; and had for his Disciples Paul Veronese, James Tintoret, James Dupout, Bassan and his Brothers.
Paul Veronese expressed an extream Grace in the Airs of Women, with [Page 67] great diversity of changeable Drapeperies, and incredible vivacity and facility, notwithstanding his Composition was Barbarous, and his design not correct; but the Colouring and all that depends thereon, was so admirable in his Pictures, that it surprised at first sight, and caused all other Faults to be forgot.
Tintoret, a Disciple of Titian; he was a great Designer and An Artist of a ready and expert Practice. Praticien, and sometimes a great One whose drawings are strain'd, and extravagant. Strapasson; he had an admirable Genius for Painting, but his Affection and Patience was not equal to his Fire and vivacity. He has made some Pictures of no less Beauty than those of Titian. His Composition and his Dress are Barbarous for the most part, and his Contours are not very Correct; but his Colouring and all that depends on that is admirable.
The Bassans had a poorer and more miserable Gust in Painting than Tintoret, and design'd worse than he. But they had an excellent Gust in Colours, [Page 68] and toucht up, or exprest Animals after a very good Manner, yet their Composition and design was very Barbarous.
At Parma, Corregio Painted two Great Cupulo's in A sort of Painting upon outward Walls. Fresquo, and several Altar Pieces. He had certain natural Graces, peculiar to himself, for all his Pictures of the Blessed Virgin, the Saints, and young Children. His manner is extream great, as well for design, as for Workmanship, tho without Correction. His Pensil is one of the most agreeable and easie, and one may say of him, that he Painted with such a force, such a relief, and such a sweetness and vivacity of Colours, that he could do nothing better. He distributed his Lights after a particular manner, such as gave a great force and roundness to his Figures. It consisted in extending his Lights to be large, and then losing them insensibly in the dark Colours without the The Masses are the strongest Lights, and Shadows. Masses, which gave them a great [Page 69] Roundness, without our perceiving from whence such force and such satisfaction to the Eye, should proceed; and in this particular he seems to be followed by other Lombards. He had not the Election of handsom Attitudes, nor the distribution of comely Groups. His design often appears Lame, and his positions are not much observed. The Aspects of his Figures are not unpleasant in many places: But his manner of designing the Heads, the Hands, the Feet, and other parts, is very great and good to imitate. In the Conduct and finishing a Picture, he did Miracles; for he Painted with such Union, that his greatest Works, seem'd to be the Product but of one day, and appear'd as if seen in a Looking glass. His Landskips were handsom, and correspondent to his Figures.
At the same time lived Parmigano, who besides his great Manner in good Colouring, was excellent for Invention and Design; he had a Genius full of Gentileness and Spirit, hauing nothing of Barbarous in his Choice of Attitudes, and in the Dress of his [Page 70] Figures, which cannot be said of Corregio. There are very handsom things and very correct of his.
These two Painters had very good Disciples, but none but those of that Country know who they were; however we are not well assured of what they say, for Painting is there utterly extinct.
I say nothing of Leonard de Vinci, because I have seen but very few things of his doing; tho' he revived these Arts at Millain, and made many Disciples.
Lewis Carache Uncle of Hanibal, and Brother of Antonio, studied at Parma after Corregio, and became excellent in design and colouring, which he perform'd with such Grace and Candor, that Guido a Disciple of Hannibal, did afterwards imitate him with much success. There are of his Pictures very Beautiful and well managed. His ordinary residence was at Bologna; and it was he that first taught his Nephew Hannibal to use the Crayon.
Annibal quickly out went his Master in all particulars. He counterfeited Corregio, Titian, and Raphaels manner in different Pictures, excepting that they want the Nobleness, the Grace, and the Delicacy of Raphael, and that his Cantours are not so Pure and so Elegant. For the rest he was very accomplisht, and very Universal. His manner of designing is great and excellent. Expressing what he knew with an admirable Genius.
Augustin, Brother of Annibal was also a good Painter, and a most excellent Graver. He had a Bastard Son Named Antonio, who died at the Age of 23 or 24 years, who as 'tis thought, would certainly have surpast his Uncle, Annibal, for it seem'd, from what we see of his, that he would have taken a greater Flight.
Guido imitated chiefly Lewis Carache, and always retain'd the same fashion of Painting with Lawrence the Fleming, his Master, who dwelt at Bologna, and was Contemporary and an Emulatour of the said Lewis. Guido made use of Albert Durer as Virgil did of [Page 72] the Poet Ennius, and this he turn'd into his own manner with such Grace and Beauty, that he alone got more Money, and obtain'd more Reputation in his time, than his Masters, and than all the Disciples of the School of the Caraches, tho' more capable han the. His Heads are no ways inferior to those of Raphiel.
Sisto Badalocchi designed better than the other Disciples; but he died young.
Albano was excellent in all the parts of Painting, and was skill'd in the Belles Lettres, or polite Learning.
Dominicano was a very skilful Painter, and very painful, being not otherwise advantaged by Nature. He was very profound in all that depends on Painting; however he seems to have less Majesty than all the other Disciples of the Caraches.
John Lanfranc was of great Spirit and Vivacity, and continued long in an excellent Gust of Design and Colour, but having no Foundation but the Practique, he quickly became liable to Correction, in such sort that [Page 73] we see many of his things very Strain'd and extravagant. Strapassées where there was no occasion for it. For the rest of those Disciples, after the Death of their Master, they all grew worse and worse in every particular of Painting.
Viola begun to make Landskips when he was very Old. Hannibal took a delight to instruct him, and we may see several Pieces of his Work wonderfully handsom, and well colour'd.
In Germany and the Low Countries Albert Durer, Lucas, Aldegrave, Isbin, and Holbin, were all of the same time. Among whom Albert, and Holbin, were very skilful, and had been of the first Rank had they seen Italy, for we can blame them for nothing but their Gothick Gust, and chiefly Albert. As for Holbin, he carried the Execution beyond Raphael, and I have seen a Portrait of his that put down one of Titians.
Among the Flemings, we have had Rubens, a Man to whom his Birth gave a Lively Wit, Free, Sweet, and [Page 74] Universal; he had a Genius capable to raise him not only to the Rank of the Antient Painters, but also to the greatest Imployments, and accordingly he was made choice of to go on one of the most famous Embassies that has been in our Age. His Gust for design did Tast more of the natural Fleming than of the Beauty of the Antique, for he had been but a little time at Rome. Tho' we may observe in all his Works, a Grandeur, and Majesty, yet one may say truly, that generally speaking, he did not design well, but for the other parts of Painting he understood and possest as much as ever Painter did. His principal Study was made in Lombardy, and particularly after the Works of Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret from all which, (as one may say) he skim'd away the Cream, to gether for his own use certain general Maxims and infallible Rules, which he always observed, and by which he performed his Works with more facility than Titian, more Purity, Truth and Science, than Paul Veronese, and more Majesty, Repose, [Page 75] and Moderation than Tintoret. In fine, his manner was so firm, so skillful, and so prompt, that it seem'd as if his Rare Genius was sent on purpose from Heaven, to teach Mankind the Art of Painting.
His School was fill'd with many good Disciples, among whom Vandike best understood the Rules and Ge [...]eral Maxims of his Master, and did even surpass him in the Delicacy of his Carnations (or Flesh Colours) and in his Cabinet Pieces; but he had as ill a Gust as him, in that Part which relates to Design.
SECT. V. Of Poets and Poetry.
AFter Eugenius had thus finisht his (or rather Monsieur Fresnoy's) Discourse of the Famous Italian Painters, the Company fell into familiar Chat, such as produced nothing Remarkable; till the approach of Night caused the Visitants to think of home. Mitis made Eugenius a very gentile Complement at parting, and Julio profest, that tho' his Entertainment was in all particulars extream Noble and Obliging, yet nothing had more surprised him with Delight, than the Sight of his Excellent Collection of Pictures. As they return'd, Mitis began a Discourse which lasted all the way, near two hours. He said it may be a Question which is the most Delightsom Painting or Poetry? Understand me, where both are good and in perfection; for the little common [Page 77] Dawbings are no more to be valued in one, than the Street Ballads and dispicable Rhimes of the other. Whichsoever occasions the greatest Pleasures (said Julio) I will not determine; for that may arise chiefly from the apprehension, or different Genius of the Party who views the Picture, or reads the Poem: But I am apt to believe that Poetry is more useful to humane Life, by Reason of its Moral Precepts and Instructions, such as cannot arise from a Dumb Painting. As Dumb as the Painting is, said Lisander. Pictures are thought to be of great use, even by the way of Direction and Information, beyond Sea; and therefore they are so frequently placed in Churches there, to highten the Affections and advance Devotion. 'Tis true, this has been thought Superstitious here in our Country, and therefore Pictures have been with us Excommunicated or Expell'd the Church, and certain Texts of Scripture Writ up and down on the Walls, instead of them; and yet some People think this to be of as little [Page 78] use, and less Ornament than the other; for say they, in Country Churches, where it is most Practised, many (if not most) of the Parish cannot Read, whereas every Body understands the meaning of a Picture, which indeed speaks all Languages: And for that Reason they have been, not improperly, called, The Lay-mens Books. But to wave this Comparison of Painting and Poetry, which has been allow'd in all Ages since Old Horace said,
There is one Point of Disparity between 'em, in the true Cause of which I would gladly be satisfied. And that is, why Poetry and Poverty are counted inseperable Companions, and that for a Man to have a Poetical Genius is thought fatal, that he is thereby half Ruined, and in the ready way to Beggary? Whereas for a Painter to have an apt and ready Genius [Page 79] in his Science, is counted a good Omen, and assures us that in time he will be a grat Master, and raise an Estate. Julio after a little pause, answer'd to this purpose. 'Tis very true, that those who addict themselves to Poetry, especially such who make it their whole business, have been generally observed to be little beholding to Fortune, or in plain English, poor and indigent; one Reason may be, that they are Men of Generous Souls, above their Fortunes, and live according to the Ideas and Notions they Read and Write of; which tho' commendable in Poems and Romances, yet are not practicable here, without a plentiful Revenue, and almost Inexhaustible Fund. Besides, they Love quiet, as most agreeable to their Studies, while those who Raise Estates are your Intreaguers, Men of Business, and such as live in a continual Hurry. Add to this, that being Men of Witty and Delightsom Conversation, their Company is desired by almost all, and those of Fortunes and Expences greater than they in Prudence [Page 80] can Cope with; which insensibly decays that little Estate which they have. An other Reason may be that they aspire no higher than a handsom subsistance for the present, and leave the future to Providence that disposes all things; in which particular they are better Christians and Philosophers, than Husbands and Parents. After all, perhaps this Character of Poverty is not only applyable to Poets, but in some (if not equal) Degree, to all other Scholars, who being Masters of Little or nothing besides their Learning, they are compell'd (after the Example of all Ages) to apply themselves to Great Men; some of whom, whose Estates have overgrown their Wit and Humanity, think themselves importuned with their Addresses, and therefore speak more disgracefully of them than they deserve. These are the Reverse of a M [...]cenas; they have have his Riches, but Souls below a Plebeian. They look upon a Poet, or Poor Scholar, with a Present or Dedication, as a kind of Robber, for tho' [Page 81] He does not take their Purse like your Highwayman, yet he forces their Will, and they part with what Custom obliges them to return, (if they make any) meerly to avoid the Dishonour, as unwillingly and with as ill a Face, as if they heard Stand and Deliver. For this Reason, said Mitis, I wou'd have (if possible) no Poets but such only who have Estates of Inheritance Large and sufficient to guard them both from the Insults of the World, and Cares of subsisting. 'Tis true, there have been several among the Romans, and in our Age, who have been as Eminent for their Excellent Genius this way, as for their Quality. But for the most part, the Great Men and the Poets are not to be United; for they are Born Rich, and these are born Poets. But where some of those to raise their Estates (which are already made to their hands) they might, perhaps, live as poor as these. There is certainly more requir'd to getting Riches, than Learning and Science: There is much of Luck, and something of Trick (the [Page 82] Citizens call it Mystery) that are necessary Concomitants. What else makes the Hypocrite more plausible than the Good Christian, an Empirick Richer than a Learned Doctor? And I have heard of a Fellow in the Country, who cou'd not Write, nor (hardly) read, and yet got a great Estate by pretending to the Law. In these Lucky pretences, these Tricks and Mysteries, or what ever you call 'em, it seems the Poets are Ignorant: There is still one other Reason for a Poets Poverty; those who addict themselves to other Studies, find great incouragement from publick Provisions. The Divine has his Livings, Promotions, and Dignities. Those of the Law have abundance of Offices of mighty profit; and the Physitians, settled Salaries from Hospitals and other endowments. But the Poet (as such) hath no Office or Place of Preferment belonging to his Profession, that I know of, except one; and that too, consist [...] chiefly in Reputation, and a Pipe o [...] Canary. This starts an other occasion of their impoverishment; they [Page 83] have been generally devoted to the Bottle; they fancy inspiration from Wine; and I never heard of any who raised an Estate, but thousands who consumed it, by Drinking. You have given Reasons more than enough, said Lisander, to justifie the common Notion of Poets. I perceive that Verses and Poems are pretty Toys to play with, but the worst Tools for a Trade that ever were invented. 'Tis well some of our Poets have other ways of subsisting, else I know not how they wou'd do to live in this World, unless they could Restore the Golden Age (their beloved Theme) in which bountiful Nature supply'd all things to every one, and none wanted any thing. And among other Arts, which have interfered with Poesie, I have observed in a more especial manner, that of Painting to be one; as if the two Sister Sciences delighted to live together in the same Person. You seldom knew a Poet but he was a Lover of Pictures, nor a Painter who had not the like Affection for Poems and Musick (which is really an inarticulate [Page 84] Poesie). Some persons have attain'd to a great perfection in both these Arts; such was Leonardo da Vinci; I cou'd Name other Italians, and several of our own Nation; But 'tis sufficient to instance only in one. A young Lady of Eminent Virtue and Beauty, was when she lived (which was not many years since) incomparable for her performances both with the Pen and Pensil. I mean Mrs. Ann Killegrew, whose Picture drawn by her self, is Printed before her Book of Poems, publisht soon after her Death. A Gentleman of our Acquaintance, tho' he had never seen her when living, fell really in love with her Memory, and on the first view of her Picture and Poems, composed some Verses which I think I can still remember.
This seems, indeed, to be Writ with as great Affection as Encomium, and more Love than Art. But you know Philaster, he is the Author. I did imagine, said Mitis, it must be he; He is himself a pretender to both [Page 86] these Arts: And that with as much Success as he desires, since he never made either of them his Business, but Diversion.
With this and such like Discourse, the Way and the Time past off, when they found themselves arrived at their Journeys End, and that the Day-Light had determined, and the Sun Resigned his Office to his Sister almost an hour before, which they never minded.