Nothing could be better fancied than to make this enormous son of Neptune use the sea for his looking-glass. But is Virgil so happy when his little land-man says, Nec sum adeò informis: nuper me in littore vidi, Cùm placidum ventis staret mare His wonderful judgment for once deserted him, or he might have retained the sentiment with a slight change in the application. For instance, what if he had said, Certè ego me novi, liquidæque in imagine vidi Nuper aquæ, placuitque mihi mea forma vi denti. It is a sort of curiosity, you say, to find Ovid reading a lesson to Virgil. I will dissemble nothing. The lines are, as I have cited them, in the 13th book of the Metamorphosis. But unluckily they are put into the mouth of Polypheme. So that instead of instructing one poet by the other, I only propose that they should make an exchange; Ovid take Virgil's sea, and Virgil be contented with Ovid's water. However this be, you may be sure the authority of the Prince of the Latin poets will carry it with admiring posterity above all such scruples of decorum. Nobody wonders therefore to read in Tasso, Non son' io Da disprezzar, se ben me stesso vidi But of all the misappliers of this fine original sentiment, commend me to that other Italian, who made his shepherd survey himself, in a fountain indeed, but a fountain of his own weeping. 3. You will forgive my adding one other instance of this vicious application of a fine "thought." You remember those agreeable verses of Sir John Suckling, "Tempests of winds thus (as my storms of grief Carry my tears which should relieve my heart) Have hurried to the thankless ocean clouds And show'rs, that needed not at all the cour When the poor plains have languish'd for the want, And almost burnt asunder." Brennoralt. A. III. S. 1. I don't stay to examine how far the fancy of tears relieving the heart is allowable. But admitting the propriety of the observation, in the sense the poet intended it, the simile is applied and expressed with the utmost beauty. It accordingly struck the best writers of that time. SPRAT, in his history of the Royal Society, is taking notice of the misapplication of philosophy to subjects of Religion. "That "shower, says he, has done very much injury by falling on the sea, for which the shep"herd, and the ploughman, called in vain: "The wit of men has been profusely poured "out on Religion, which needed not its help, "and which was only thereby made more tempestuous: while it might have been more "fruitfully spent, on some parts of philosophy, "which have been hitherto barren, and might "soon have been made fertile." p. 25. You see what wire-drawing here is to make the comparison, so proper in its original use, just and pertinent to a subject to which it had naturally no relation. Besides, there is an absurdity in speaking of a shower's doing injury to the sea by falling into it. But the thing illustrated by this comparison requiring the idea of injury, he transfers the idea to the comparing thing. He would soften the absurdity, by running the comparison into meta phorical expression, but, I think, it does not remove it. In short, for these reasons, one might easily have inferred an Imitation, without that parenthesis to apologize for it-" To "use that metaphor which an excellent poet of 66 our nation turns to another purpose" But a poet of that time has no better success in the management of this metaphor, than the Historian. Love makes so many hearts the prize Of the bright CARLISLE'S conqu'ring eyes; For which poor Shepherds pray'd in vain. The Sentiment stands thus: "She regards "the captive hearts of others no more than 1 "those others the tears of lesser beauties. Thus, with much difficulty, we get to tears. And when we have them, the allusion to lost clouds is so strained (besides that he makes his shower both useless and injurious), that one readily perceives the poet's thought was distorted by imitation. X. The charge of Plagiarism is so disreputable to a great writer that one is not surprized to find him anxious to avoid the imputation of it. Yet "this very anxiety serves, "sometimes, to fix it upon him." Mr. Dryden, in the Preface to his transla tion of Fresnoy's Art of Painting, makes the following observation on Virgil: " He pretends "sometimes to trip, but 'tis only to make you "think him in danger of a fall when he is "most secure. Like a skilful dancer on the 66 Rope (if you will pardon the meanness of "the similitude) who slips willingly and makes "a seeming stumble, that you may think him " in great hazard of breaking his neck; while "at the same time he is only giving you a 66 proof of his dexterity. My late Lord Roscommon was often pleased with this reflexion, " &c." p. 50. |