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CRITICAL REFLECTIONS
O N
POETRY,
PAINTING and MUSIC.
With
An Inquiry into the Rife and Progrefs of the
Theatrical "Entertainments of the Ancients.
Written in French
By the Abbe Du Bos, Member and perpetual
Secretary of the French Academy.
Translated into English by
THOMAS NUGENT, Gent.
From the fifth Edition revifed, corrected, and
inlarged by the Author*

Ut pitiiura poejts erit.

Hor. de arte poet.

VOL. I.

LONDON:
Printed for John Nourse, at the Lamb, oppofitc
$atberine-Stre'et in the Strand-
MPCCXLVIII.

THE
Translator's Preface.
nfHERE have been very few books publijhid
of late years that have met with a better
reception , or attained to a greater reputation in
the learned world, than the following Critical
Reflections. 7 his is a truth fo well known to
mojl judges of polite learning, that it would be
unneceffary to attempt to illuflrate the char abler
either of the author or his performance. As
for what concerns this tranflation, I have very
little to fay, but that I have endeavoured as
much as pojible to render it not unworthy of
the public acceptance. I have taken care to ob-
ferve a middle way between too loofe a para-
phrafe, and too literal a verfion ; my chief aim
being to convey the fpirit as well asfenfe of the
original. The quotations from the Greek writ
ers, which are pretty numerous, efpe daily in the
third volume, are copied in the French original
from Latin tranjlations ; not that our author
was unacquainted with the Greek, but becaufe
this language is not fo generally underftood in
that kingdom. However as this reafon is of no
•weight in England, where mofl people that un~.
derfland Latin, have fome tincture at leaf;
of the Greekt I have therefore taken the li-
A 2 berty

iv The Translator's Preface,
berty to deviate herefrom our author, by giving
thefe quotations in their original language. The
tranflations of the claffic poets are taken from
our befl writers ; and the paffages of Boileau
are from the Englifto v erf on of this poet done by
feveral hands. A few lines from Racine, Cor-
neille, and others, 1 have attempted myfelf,
not intending they fhould be looked upon as.
poetry (for I may fay with the fatyriftt
Nee fonte labra prolui caballino) but only
to preferve by fome kind of verfijication a
greater air of conformity with the French.
The reader will find, that mofi of the quo-*
tat ions from the Greek and Latin writers are
rendered rather by a kind of paraphrafe than
tranflation ; wherefore it will not be amifs to ac~
quaint him that thefe paffages are englifhed from
the French tranflation, and not from the ori
ginals ; left by making a more exabl verfion we
fhould have loft the author's meaning, who by
means of his paraphrafe . frequently Jlrikes out
fomething that helps to prove his point. I need
not mention any thing with regard to my own
mifiakes ; I hope there are none but fuch as are ex-
cufable in an undertaking of this nature, and
that the reader will be able to trace in this im~
perfeB copy fome faint re femblance of the beau,-*
ties of the excellent original.

The
Author's Adv^rtifement x
IN the firft part of this Work I endeavour
to explain what the beauty of a pidture or
poem chiefly confifts in j what merit both may
draw from conforming to rules ; and what a-f-
fiilance their productions may. borrow of othet
arts, in order to fhine forth with greater luftre.
In the fecond part, I treat of the qualifica-*
tions, whether natural or acquired, neceffary to
form great painters or poets. I inquire here
likewife into the reafons of fome ages being
fo fertile* and others fo barren of celebrated
artifts. I examine afterwards into the means,
whereby the reputation of illuftrious artifts
has been raifed ; by what marks one can fore
tell, whether the fame, they have acquired in
their days, be tranfient, or durable j and fi
nally, what thofe prefages are which ifnpower
us to pr edi£t, that ' the fame of a painter or
poet, cried up by his cotemporaries, will con
tinue to increafe, fo as to arrive to a much
A 3 higher

vi The Author'* Advertisement.
higher degree of veneration in future ages,
than at the time he lived.
The third part of this work is laid out in-
tirely in explaining fome difcoveries, which,
methinks, I have made in relation to the thea
trical entertainments of the ancients. In the
preceding editions of my book, this difcourfe
on the ancient theatres occurs in the firft part,
having placed it where it feemed to fall in
with the nature of the fubjec~t. But I have
been fince reminded, that my digreffion, where
it was firft, interrupted the reader's view of
the principal matter. I have been therefore
advifed to throw it into a feparate volume;
an advice which I have complied with the
more readily, as the improvements and addi
tions, I had to make to the difcourfe here
mentioned, would have rendered my fault much
more inexcufable.

THE

'

TABLE O F T H E
CONTENTS.

PART I.

CHAP. I.
OF the neceffity of occupation in order to avoid
heavinefs ¦, and of the attraclives which the
motions of the paffions have ~ with regard to
man. Page 4
CHAP II.
Of the attratlives of fpe£lacles proper for exciting
great emotions. Of gladiators. 10
CHAP. III.
That the principal merit of poems and pictures con
fifts in the imitation of fuch objecls, as would
have excited real paffions within us. The paf
fions which thofe imitations give rife to, are
only fuperficial. ., 21
CHAP. IV.
Of the power which imitations have over us ; and
of the facility with which the heart is moved. 28
CHAP.

The CONTENTS. CHAP. V.
That the reafon of Plato's excluding poets from his
republic, was the too great imprejfion their imita
tions make upon man. page 3^
C H A P. VI.
Of the nature of thofe fubjecls which painters and
poets treat of. That tbey cannot chiife for imita
tion too engaging a fubjetJ. 43
CHAP. VII.
That ive are more affected with tragedy than co
medy, becaufe of the nature of thofe fubjects which
tragedy treats of. 47
CHAP. VIII.
Of the different kinds of poetry, and their cha
racter. 52
C H A P. IX.
Of the manner of rendering dogmatic fubjecls en
gaging- 54
CHAP. X.
Objection drawn from pictures, to prove that the
art of imitation is more engaging than the very
fubject ' of imitation. 5 6
CHAP. XI.
That the beauties of execution only cannot render a
poem a finifhed piece, th<? they can a picture. 60
CHAP. XII.
That a work has a twofold manner of engaging
us -, the one in a general fenfe as men ; and the
ether in a particular fenfe, as Individuals. 62

CHAP*

The CONTENTS. CHAP. XIII.
That there are fome fubjects particularly adapted
to poetry, and others to painting. Of the
manner of diftingui/hing them. page 69
CHAP. XIV.
That there are fubjects particularly adapted to fome
kinds of poetry and painting. Of the proper fub
jects of tragedy. QI
CHAP. XV.
Of the perfonages of villains that may be intro
duced into tragedies. 96
CHAP. XVI.
Of fome tragedies that are defective in the choice
tf their fubject s- 101
CHAP, XVII,
Whether it be proper to intermix love in trage
dies,. 104
CHAP. XVIII.
, , That our neighbours object againft our poets for in
termixing too much love in their tragedies, no
CHAP. XIX.
Of the gallantry interjperfed in our poems. 119
C H A P. XX.
Of fome maxims proper to be obferved in treat
ing of tragic fubjects. 123
CHAP. XXI.
Qf the choice of comic fubjects. Where their fcenes
are to be placed. And of the Roman comedies.
CHAP. XXII.
$ome remarks on paftoral poetry t and on the Jhep-
fyerds' of eclogues. 143
CHAP.

The CONTENTS. CHAP. XXIII.
Remarks on Epic poetry. Obfervation relat
ing to the proper place and time of its fubject.
Page 149
chap, xxrv
Of allegorical actions and perfonages, with regard
to painting. 152
CHAP. XXV.
Of allegorical perfonages and actions, with regard
to poetry. 176
CHAP. XXVI.
That the fubjects of painters are not exhaufted.
Examples drawn from the pictures of Chrift's
crucifixion. 182
CHAP. XXVII.
That poetic fubjects are not exhaufted. And that
there may be feveral new characters introduced
into comedy. 187
CHAP. XXVIII.
Of poetic probability. ig6
CHAP. XXIX.
Whether tragic poets be obliged to conform to the
pofttive accounts of Geography, Hiftory, and
Chronology. Remarks with refpect to this fub
ject, on fome tragedies of Corneille and Racine. 201
CHAP. XXX.
Of probability in painting ; and of the regard which
painters ought to have for received traditions. 211
CHAP. XXXI.
Of the difpofttion of the plan. That the ordannance
3 ; of

The CONTENTS.
of pictures is to be divided into poetic' and pittu-
refque compofitions. Page 220
CHAP. XXXII.
Of the importance of fuch faults, as painters and
poets happen to commit, contrary to their rulesty 226
CHAP. XXXIII.
Of the poetic ftile, in which words are conjijlered
asftgns of our ideas. That the fate of poems
depends on the poetic ftile. 228
CHAP. XXXIV.
Of the motive of reading poetry : that readers do
not look for inftruttions in poems, as in other
tiooks. 239
CHAP. XXXV.
Of the mechanic part of poetry, which conjiders
words only as founds. The advantages which
poets, who write in Latin, have over fuch as
compofe in French. 246
CHAP. XXXVI.
Of Rhime. 278
CHAP. XXXVII.
That the words of our own native language make
a greater imprejfion upon us, than thofe of a fo
reign tongue. 283
CHAP. XXXVIII.
That the painters of Raphael's time had no ad
vantage over thofe of our days. Of the ancient
painters. 287
CHAP. XXXIX.
In what fenfe it may be f aid, that nature is grown
rich fmce the time of Raphael. 316
CHAP.

The CONTENTS.
CHAP. XL.
Whether the effect which painting produces on men,
be greater than that of poetry. 321
C H A P. XLI.
Of ftmple recitation and declamation. 332
CHAP. XLII.
Of the French manner of reciting tragedy and co
medy. 340
CHAP. XLIII.
That the pleafure we receive at the theatre, is not
the effect of illufion 349
CHAP. XLIV
That dramatic poems purge the paffions. 354
CHAP. XLV.
Of Mufti, properly fo called. 360
CHAP. XLVI.
Some reflections on the Italian muftc. That the
Italians did not cultivate this art 'till after the
French and Flemings. 375
CHAP. XLVII.
What kind of verfes are proper eft to fet to muftc: 386
CHAP. XLVIII.
Of Prints, and Poems in profs. oqz
CHAP. XLIX.
That it is ufelefs to difpute, whether the part that
takes in the defign and the expreffion be prefer
able to that of the coloring. 302
C H A P. L.
Of fculpture, and the abilities it requires ; and
of the art of Bajfo-relievos, 307
? CRITICAL

CRITICAL REFLECTIONS

O N

Poetry and Painting.

PART I.

^«)K«iS«««5K!^S;*««««««S^««!K3««®«iK**«5K*;K;KiS«^;K

H A T a fenfible pleafure arifes from
poems and pictures, is a truth we
are convinced of by daily experience ;
and yet 'tis a difficult matter to ex
plain the nature of this pleafure,1
which bears fo great a refemblance with affliction,
and whofe fymptoms are fometimes as affecting,
as thofe of the deepeft forrow. The arts of poetry
and painting are never more applauded, than when
they are moft fuccefsful in moving us to pity.
Vol. I. B The

2 Critical Reflections on
The pathetic reprefentation of the facrifice of
Jepbtha's -daughter, let in a frames is one of the
moft elegant ornaments of a fumptuous cabinet.
The feveral grotefqUe figures, arid moft fmiling
compofkions of painters of the gayeft fancies, pafs
unobferved, to attend to this tragical picture. A
poem, the chief fubject whereof is the violent death
of a young princefs, graces the moft auguft fo-
lemnity ; and the tragedy is marked out for one
of the principal amufements of a company affem-
bled for their diverfion. 'Tis obfervable, that we
feel in general a greater pleafure in weeping, than
in laughing at a theatrical reprefentation.
In fhort, the more our companion would have
been raifed by fuch actions as are defcribed by
poetry and painting, had we really beheld them ;
the more -in proportion the imitations attempted
_ by thofe arts are capable of affecting us. Thefe
actions are univerfally allowed to bq the happieft
and nobleft fubjects. It muft be therefore a fecret
charm that draws our attention to the imitations
made by thofe arts, whilft our nature feels an
inward dread and repugnance at the fig-ht- of its
own pleafure.
I fhall venture to undertake to clear up this
paradox, and explain the origin of that pleafure,
which we receive from poems and paintings. At
tempts of a lefs arduous nature have been frequent
ly charged with temerity. 'Tis an attempt to un
fold to man the caufes of his approbation and dif-
like : an attempt to inftriict him concerning the
nature of his own fentiments, how tliey rife and are

Poetry and PA I N t 1 n d. 3
are formed within him. I cannot therefore flattei1
¦myfelf with the hopes of my reader's approbation j
unlefs I fucceed in endeavouring to lay open to
him what paffes within himfelf ; that is, in on?
word, the moft inward motions of his heart. 'Tis
natural to reject as untrue the glafs, wherein we
perceive no refemblance of our own features.
Thofe who write on fubjects of a lefs fenfible na
ture, have it frequently in their power to err with
.impunity. To detect their miftakes, a great deal
of reflection, and fometimes inquiry^ is neceflary,
but the fubject which comes under my examina
tion, is moft obvious and intelligible. Every man
is poffeiTed of a ftandard rule applicable to my
arguments, fo as to difcover eafily the leaft devia
tion they may have from truth.
On the other hand, /tis rendering an important
tfervice to thofe two arts, (arts, that are ranked
.amongft the moft accomplished ornaments of po
lite fociety) to inquire philofophically into the
nature and manner of the effects arifing from their
productions. A book which could lay open the
heart of man, when moved by a poem, or affe£)>
asd with a picture, would, give our artifts a very
j lift .and extenfive view of the general effect of
their works, whereof they feem to have fo im*-
perfect an idea. I muftbeg the indulgence of thofe
gentlemen, for giving them fo frequently, in the
courfe of this work, the appellation of artifts. The
regard which, uportall occafions, I exprefs for their
refpective arts, will be fuffieienrta convince them',
that my rugt^ddingjilltiftrious, or fome other pro-
B 2 per

4 Critical Reflections ot
per epithet to artift, proceeds only from my ap-
prehenfion of falling into repetition. The defire of
rendering them fervice is one of my inducements
to publifh thefe reflections, which I offer as the ob-
fervations of a plain fellow-citizen, drawn from
the examples of paft ages, in order to enable their
republic to be more upon its guard againft future
inconveniencies. If at any time I happen to af-
fume a legiflative tone, the reader will pleafe to
excufe it, as proceeding from inadvertency, rather
than from any notion I entertain of my legifla
tive authority.

CHAP. I.
Of the neceffity of occupation, in order to avoid
heavinefs ; and of the attr actives which
the motions of the paffiom have with re
gard to man.
THE natural pleafures of man are always
the fruits of indigence, which is what Plato
meant, perhaps, by that allegorical exprefiion of
his, that love is the offspring of want and abun
dance. Let thofe that inftruct the public with
philofophical tracts, expound the wonders of the
divine providence, in ufing fuch various precau
tions and methods to induce man, by the allure
ment of pleafure, to attend to his own preferva- tion j

Poetry and Painting.* 5
tion : 'tis fufficient for me, that this is an uncon-
tefted truth, to form thereof the bafis of my rea-
fonings. In proportion to the greatnefs of our wants, the
pleafure of gratifying them is attended with a
greater or leffer degree of fenfibility. Thofe who
approach the moft delicious banquets, without a
preparation of appetite, feel not half fo much plea
fure as thofe, who with a hungry ftomach fit down
to a homely entertainment. Nature is imperfect
ly fupplied by art, and the moft exquifite contri
vances of the latter can never prepare us for fo
much pleafure as hunger and indigence.
The foul hath its wants no lefs than the body ;
and one of the greateft wants of man is to have
his mind inceffantly occupied. The heavinefs
which quickly attends the inactivity of the mind,
is a fituation fo very difagreeable to man, that he
frequently chufes to expofe himfelf to the moft
painful exercifes, rather than be troubled with it.
'Tis eafy to comprehend in what manner bo
dily labor, even that which feems to require the
leaft application, employs the foul. Exclufive of
external exercife, there are ftill two other methods
of occupying the mind. The firft is, when the
foul is affected by external objects, which is what
we call, a fenfible impreflion : the other is, when
fhe amufes herfelf with the fpeculation of ufeful or
curious fubjects, which is properly to reflect and
meditate. This fecond kind of occupation is difagree
able, and fometimes even impracticable to the foul,
B . 3 efpecially

6 Critical Reflections on
efpecially when 'tis not an actual or recent fenti-
ment that employs her reflections. For fhe is then
obliged to make continual efforts in purfuit of the
object of her attention, and thofe efforts being fre-
• quently rendered ineffectual by the prefent difpo-
iition of the organs of the brain, terminate in
an empty and fruitlefs application. Or elfe it hap
pens that the imagination, grown too warm, pre-
fents no longer a diftinct object, but is hurried
away by a tumultuary fucceffion of innumerable
unconnected ideas ; or, finally, the mind fatigued
with fo clofe an application, feeks to unbend itfelf ;
and a dull heavy penfivenefs, unattended with the
enjoyment of any one particular object, is the
J fruit of the efforts it has made for its amufement.
Every man muft have experienced the wearinefs
of that ftate, wherein he finds himfelf incapable
of thinking ; as well as the uneafinefs of that fitu-
ation, wherein he is forced into a tumultuous varie
ty of thought, unable to fix his choice upon any one
particular object. There are -very few fo happy as
to be but feldom liable to one of thofe two fitua-
tions, or even capable of being commonly good
company to themfelves : few that can make them-
felves m afters of that art, which, to exprefs my-
felf in the words of Horace, teacheth a man to
live in friendihip with himfelf: .Quod te tibi red-
dat amicum. To attain to that perfection, a cer
tain temperament of body is neceflary, which leaves
thofe that are poffeffed thereof, as much indebted
to providence, as the eldeft fons of princes, 'Tis
reqyifite alfo to have made an early application to
ftudy,

Po e t r y and Painting. 7
ftudy, and tp fuch other occupations, as demand .
a great deal of reflection. The mind ousht to
have contracted a habit of ranging its thoughts,
and pf reflecting on what it reads ; for the bare
running over a fubject, without any action of the
mind, and without fuftainirig it with proper re
flections, becomes frequently laborious and tire-
fome. But the imagination, by conftant exercife,
is fubdued, and growing docile, fubmits to what
ever laws we pleafe to prefcribe. By dint of
meditating, we acquire a hahjt of transferring our
thoughts with eafe fo a diverfity of matters, or
of fixing it to any one particular object.
This felf-converfation refcues thofe, who are
practifed therein, from the abovementioned ftate
of heavinefs and mifery. But, as I have already.
pbferved, the number of thofe, whom a fweetnefs
pf blood, and happy mixture of humors, has
deftined for fuch a gentle retired life, is veryincon-
fiderable. The generality pf mankind are unac
quainted with the ftate of their own minds, and
moft of them judging of what others fuffer from
fblitude, by the manner they are affected there
with themfelves, conclude of courfe, that folitude
muft be a fituation univerfally difagreeabje.
The firft of the abovementioned methods of oc
cupying one's felf, which is that of yielding to the
irnpreffion of external objects, is much the eafieft,
'Tis the only refource, which tip greateft part of
mankind have againft wearihefs of mind ; and even
thofe who can employ their time ptherwife, are fre
quently obliged, in order to avoid being tired with
B 4 the

8 Critical Reflections on
the famenefs of their occupations, to have recourfe
to the common .amufements of mankind. The
changes of toil and pleafure fet the fpirits, that
began to grow heavy, in motion, and feem to re-
ftore frefh vigor to the exhaufted imagination.
Hence we behold mankind embarraffed in fo
many idle and frivolous occupations. Hence we
fee fuch numbers of mortals fo eager in purfuit
pf what they call their pleafures, notwithftanding
their being convinced of the unhappy confequences
thereof by their own experience. The difquiet
arifing from bufinefs, and the motions thereby
given to man, cannot be in themfelves agreeable.
Thofe paffions, which are attended with the high-
eft pleafures, are likewife productive of the moft:
durable and acuteft pains ; neverthelefs, man has
ftill a greater dread of the heavinefs which fuc-
ceeds inaction, and finds in the buftle of bufinefs,
and in the tumult of his paffions, a motion that amu-
fes him. The agitations which they excite, are even
revived in folitude, and prevent man from entering
into himfelf, without finding employment ; where
by he efcapes falling into the languid ftate of hea
vinefs and affliction. When men, grown furfeited
of what we call the world, come to a determination
of renouncing it, 'tis but very feldom they flick
to their refolution. Upon coming to make a trial
of an inactive life, and comparing the pain they
fuffered from the perplexity of bufinefs, and the in
quietude of their paffions, with the irkfomenefs of a
ftate of indolence, they foon regret the tumultuous
fituation, which they had fo much difrelifhed. They

Poetry and Painting. g
They are oftentimes unjuftly accufed with having
made afhew of a pretended moderation, upon their
engaging in a retired life. 'Tis likely however they
acted with fincerity ; but as the excefs of action had
induced them to long for a ftate of tranquillity, fo
too much leifure and indolence makes them regret
the time, when they had fuch a multiplicity of
amufements. Men are more addicted to levity than
hypocrify •, and frequently they are only guilty
of inconftancy, when they are charged with diffi-
mulation. In fact,, the hurry and agitation, in which our
paffions keep us, even infolitude, is of fo brifk a na
ture, that any other fituation is languid.and heavy,
when compared to this motion. Thus we are led
by inftinct, in purfuit of objects capable of excit
ing our paffions, notwithstanding thofe objects
make impreffions on us, which are frequently at
tended with nights and days of pain and calamity :
but man in general would be expofed to greater
mifery, were he exempt from paffions, than the
very paffions themfelves can make him fuffer.

CHAP.

fo' Critical Reflections^//
CHAP. II.
Of the. attratfives of fpectacles. prober- for ex
citing great emotions^
Qf Gladiators.
'HAT natural emotion, which rifes, as it
were, mechanically within us, upon feeing
our fellow creatures in any great misfortune or dan
ger, hath no other attractive, but that of being a
gaffion, the motipns whereof roufe and occupy
the foul •, neverthelefs, this very emotion has charms
capable of rendering it defirahle, notwithftanding
all the gloomy and importunate ideas that attend it.
A motion, which reafon attempts in vain to
reftrain, engages multitudes in the purfuit of ob
jects, that are only capable of affqrding fcenes of
affliction. We fee crowds of people flock to one
of the moft frightful fpectacles, that human nature
can behold, that is, the public execution of a man
upon a fcaffold, where he undergoes the moft ex-
quifite torments inflicted by the law : neverthelefs,
one ought naturally to forefee, even without any
previous experience, that the circumftances of the
punifhment, and the groans of one's fellow crea
ture, will make fo deep and fo forcible an impref-
fipn, as not to be eafily effaced ; but the attractive
of the emotion felt on thofe occafions, carries a
greater weight with it than all the reflections and
advice of experience. The frightful fpectacles here
/ mentioned,

Poetry and Pain t p o, ii
mentioned, occur frequently, and are attended eon-
ftantly with a crowd of fpectators -in all parts of
the world.
'Tis this very attractive which makes us fond of
the difquiets and alarms, occafioned by the perils
which we fee other men expofed to., whilft we are
exempt ourfelves from danger. 'Tis pleafant, fays
Lucretius, to behold from the feafhore, a. ve-ffel
ft niggling with the waves which are juft ready tq
fwallow it up ; or to be fpectator of a battle from
an eminence, where there is no apprehenfion pf
danger. Suave mari magna turbantibus aquora ventis
E terra alterius magnum fpettare labor em :¦
Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri
Per campos inftrubta tuiftne. parte pericli.
Lucr. de nat. Rer. 1. 2.
'Tis, pleafant, tiohen the feas are rough, to ft and
And view anotkex's danger, fafe at land ;
Not'caufehf's troubled, but 'twas fweet to fee
Thofe cares and fears, from which ourfelves,
are free.
'Tis alfo pleafant to behold from far
How troops engage xfecure ourfelves from "map,
Creech.
In proportion as the movements of a rope-
dancer are more or lefs dangerous, the attention of
the fpectators is raifed or abated- If in his dancing
between twafwords, the heat of his motion fhould
chance to fling him an inch out pf the line he is
confined to, he becomes inftantiy a proper objeft of

12 Critical Reflections on
of our curiofity. Put but a couple of fticks, in-
ftead of two fwords, or let the tumbler ftretch his
cord only two foot high in the middle of a mea
dow, the very fame leaps and movements as he
made before, will be thought no longer worth
looking at, and the fpectator's attention will ter
minate with the danger.
Hence arofe that excefs of pleafure, which the
Romans felt at the fpectacles of the amphitheatre.
They not only expofed men to be torn alive by
wild beafts, but likewife fet gladiators on the ftage,
to cut one another's throats. They grew feven in
genious in the inventions of the bloody inftru-
ments, which thofe unfortunates were to ufe in
this butcherly entertainment. It was not by mere
chance that the Retiarius, and the Mirmillo, were
differently armed -, but a juft proportion between
the offenfive and defenfive weapons of thofe a ghia-
drils, was induftrioufly contrived, in order to ren
der their combats longer, and more liable to a va
riety of accidents. They would even have them,
expire more gradually, and with a greater appear
ance of terror. Different Quadrils were made to
fight with different arms, to diverfify thereby the
pleafure of the fpectators, by varying the death
of thofe poor men who were frequently innocent.
They were even fed with a particular kind of nou-
rifhment in order to keep them in good plight,
that their blood might flow more gently from their
wounds, and the fpectators have a longer enjoyment
« Quadrils were troops, or companies, into which the com
batants ufed to divide themfelves at tournaments. of

Poetry «W Painting. 13
of the horrors of theif agony. The profeffion of
inftructing the gladiators was become an art ; and
the relifh which the Romans had for this fort of
combats, made them fo curious as to introduce
a kind of delicacy and grace into a fpectacle, which
we cannot, in our days, even think of without,
horror. Thofe fencing mafters % who had the care
of inftructing the gladiators, were not only obliged
to teach them how to ufe their arms, but likewift to
learn thofe unhappy victims the very attitude they
were to compofe themfelves in for death, when
mortally wounded. Thus their mafters gave them
the method, as it were, of expiring with a good
grace.'  .,_ .-
Thofe fpectacles were not introduced into Rome
by means of the. , rufticity and fiercenefs of the
five firft centuries immediately fucceeding its foun
dation. When the two Brutus's gave the Romans
the firft combat of gladiators that was ever repre-
fented in that city, the Romans were then a civi
lized and polifhed nation : and yet the humanity
and politenefs of fucceeding ages was fo far from
giving them a diflike to the barbarous fpectacles
of the amphitheatre, that, on the contrary, it
rendered them more paffionately fond of them.
The veftal virgins had , feats marked out for them
in the firft row of the amphitheatre, at a time when
the Roman politenefs was at its higheft pitch,
when a man was deemed a barbarian, if he branded
his /lave for ftealifig a table cloth, a crime for which
the laws of moft Chriftian countries condemn our
* Lanilte. domeftics

J4 Critical Reflections on
domeftics to death, tho' they are equally free born

as ourfelves.

An fievi're docet Ru'tilus qui gaudet acerbo
VlagaYttm ftrepitu, & riullamftrena fiagellis
Co'mparat Aritiphatcs trepidi laris, ac Poly-

Tim felix qubt'ies atiqids, tortore vocato,
Utitur tifdenti duo propter lintea ferro.
Juv. fat. 14.,
The inhuman lord, who 'with a cruel guft
-Can a red fork in his ftave's forehead thruft,
¦Becaufe th unlucky criminal was caught
With little theft of two coarfe towels fraught.
Drydekt.
But the Rp'mans were feized with fuch emotions at
the amphitheatre, as they never felt at the theatre,
nor circus. The combats of gladiators were not
put down at Rome, till the Chriftian religion be-
Caffle predominant, When Conftantine the great fup-
prefle'd them by an exprefs edict a. The Romans
fiad already condemned, five hundred years be
fore b, this paffion of theirs for the fpectatles of
"gladiators, by forbidding the fubjects of the re
public to facrifice human victims , when the com
bats here treated of were firft abolifhed.
The fhow. of the gladiators was relifhed by
the Greeks, as foon as it made its firft appear
ance arnohg'ft them •, they accuftomed -themfelves

« Cod."Joft. -1. -x. tit. 44. leg.iuaica.
b Plin. hift. lib. trig. cap. 1.

afterwards

PoE T R Y Wld Pa I NT I N G. 15
afterwards gradually thereto, tho' they had not
been made acquainted with all its horrors in its
infancy. The, principles of morality, which the
Greeks had been brought up in, debarred them
from entertaining any other fentiments but thofe
of averfion for a fpectaclei where frequently the
lives of innocent men were facrificed to the idle
diverfion of the fpectators.
Under the reigh of Antiochus Epiphanes king of
Syria, the arts and fderrees, which correct the
fierce temper of man, and even fometimes ener
vate tPo much his courage, had flourifhed a long
•time in all thofe provinces that wefe inhabited by
the Greek's. Some practices formerly ufed in their
funeral games, whkh might have been imagined.
to bear a refemblanee with the combats of the
-gladiators, had been long fince abolifhed. Antio
chus, who had formed vaft projects, and to 'make
them fucceed, had recourfe to that kind of magni
ficence which is propereft to ingratiate a fovereigh
with his fubjects, fent to Rome for gladiators, at
a very great expence, in order to treat the Greeks,
a people fond of fhows, with a neW kind 'df
Spectacle. ' Probably he might have imagined, that
"•the vulgar, by afllfting at 'thofe combats, would
be infpired with that contempt of death, which
had rendered the legions more refolute than the
phalanxes in thofe wars, in -which his father Anti
ochus the great, -and Philip king of Macedbn, had
been vanquifhed by the Romans. At firft, fays
Livy, this kind of foow was rather an object of
horror than entertainment. 'Tis natural to ima-
3 gine,

16 Critical Reflections on
gine, that the Greeks, a people extremely felf-
conceited, ' and bred up with a contempt of thofe
they called barbarians, muft have railed, on this
eccafton, againft the want of lenity in other na
tions ; but Antiochus was far from being there
with difcouraged. In order to bring them gra
dually acquainted with this new fpettacle, he made
the champions, on their firft mounting the Arena,
only juft draw blood. Our Greek philofophers
took pleafure, at firft, in gazing at this milder fort
of combats, but foon after grew acquainted with
thofe of a bloodier nature, and habituated them-
felves to behold, frequently, men ftaughter one
another for the public diverfion. At length, the
thing was pufhed fo far, that a company of gladia
tors was formed even in their own country *.
There is a neighbouring nation fo prodigi-
oufly fparing of man's fufferings, as to have a
kind of a regard for human nature even in the
greateft malefactors. They chufe rather that a cri
minal fhould frequently efcape thofe punifhrnents,
which the intereft of civil fociety demands fhould
be inflicted on him, than permit an innocent man
to be expofed to fuch torments, as judges ufe
in other chriftian countries, in order to extort
¦ Gladiatorum munus Romanes ctmfuetudinis prima majare cum
t err ore hominum infuetorum ad tale fpeBaculum, quam cum vo-
tuptate dedit. Deinde fiepius dando &? ¦vulnerihus tenus, mo do
fine mijjtone, etiam & familiare oculis gratumque id fpeSaculum
fecit, £sf armorum ftudium plerifque jwvenum accendit. Itaque
qui prima a Roma paratos gladiatores magnis prcsmiis arcejfere
falitus erat, jamfuo, &c. Livius, 1. 41.
% ... from

Poetry and Painting. ly
from the guilty a confeffion of their crimes. The
capital punifhments eftablifhed amongft them*
are thofe only which deprive the criminal of his
life, without • any other pain or torture but what
is neceffary for that purpofe. And yet this very
people, fo full of lenity and refpect for human
nature, take a particular delight in feeing beafts
tear one another to pieces. They have even ren
dered thofe animals capable of killing one ano
ther with artificial weapons, to whom nature
has refufed arms fufficient for a mortal blow.
This fame nation beholds alfo, with pleafure,
a parcel of fellows, hired on purpofe to beat
and bruife one another moft dangeroufly ; info-
much, that we fhould imagine they would
certainly renew the Roman fhows of gladiators,
if the effufion of human blood, except in cafes
of neceffity, were not fo exprefsly forbidden in
Scripture. The fame may be faid of other very polite na
tions, who make alfo profeffion of a religion
averfe to the effufion of human blood. Were
not tournaments the higheft diverfion of our
anceftors ? And yet were they not fpectacles,
wherein the combatants ufed to run an evident
rifk of their lives ? Have not the wounds of
the blunted lance been fometimes as mortal
as thofe of the lance with pointed fteel ? France
had too dear an experience thereof, when Henry II.
was mortally wounded in one of thofe folemni-
ties. But our annals furnifh us with a much
ftronger proof, that even the . moft cruel fpecta-
Vol. I. C cles

18 Critical Reflections on
cles have a kind of an allurement to captivate
the affections of people of the greateft humanity.
The camp-fights, between two or more cham
pions, prevailed a long while in this kingdom,
where feveral of the principal perfonages of the
nation ufed to draw their fwords from a much
more ferious motive than that of diverting the
fpectators ; that is, with an intent of deciding
their private quarrels by the death of their
antagonifts. People notwithftanding flocked
from all parts to affift at thofe combats, by
way of fport -, and the court of Henry II. in
other refpects fo very polite, was prefent at the
duel between Jarnac and Chategneraie at St Ger
mans. The entertainments of bull-fighting are fre
quently attended with the death of the combat
ants. A grenadier is not more expofed to danger
at the attack of a covert-way, than thofe cham
pions are in their engagements with thofe furious
animals. The Spaniards notwithftanding, of all
ranks and conditions, feem to be as paffionately
fond of this dangerous kind of fport, as the Ro
mans were formerly of the entertainments of
the amphitheatre. Several Popes have ufed
their utmoft efforts to abolifh this practice of
bull-fighting, but their endeavours have been hi
therto fruitlefs ; and the Spanifh nation, which
prides itfelf for its fubmiffion to the Roman See,
hath not fhewn as yet, in this point, a proper re
gard to their remonftrances. Thus the pleafing
charm of emotion cancels the firft principles of hu
manity

Poetry and PA I N f I n G* 1 9
manity in the moft polite and moft tender
hearted nations ; and obliterates, in people of the
greateft chriftianity, the moft evident maxims of
their religion.
There are feveral who expofe daily a confiderable
part of their fubftance to the mercy of cards and dice,
notwithftanding their being perfectly fenfible of
the unhappy confequences of high gaming. Thofe
Whom fortune has enriched at play, are known
and pointed at all over Europe, like thofe who
have had any remarkable and extraordinary ad
venture ; whilft men of fubftance, who have been
ruined by gaming, furpafs in number the robuft,
Whom phyficians have reduced to infirmity. 'Tis
only fools and knaves that play from an avarici
ous motive, and with a view of accumulating
wealth by a continual fuccefs at gaming. It can
not be therefore faid, that 'tis avarice, but the
very attractive of gaming, which induces fuch
numbers of people to ruin their fortunes. In
fact, an able gamefter, who has a capacity for
combining eafily a variety of circumftances, and
inferring from thence a juft train of confequences,
fuch a gamefter, I fay, might be fure of playing
every day to a certain advantage, would he but
chufe to rifk his money only at thofe games
where fuccefs depends more on the ability of the
players, than on the hazard of cards and dice :
Neverthelefs, he gives the preference to thofe
games, where profit is diftributed by the ca
price of fqrtune, and where his fuperior abilities
give him no manner of advantage over the reft
C 2 of

20 Critical Reflections on
of the players. The reafon of a choice fo oppo-
fite to his intereft, -is, that thofe games, where
fuccefs depends in great meafure on the capacity
of the player, require a more continued appli
cation of mind ; befides, they do not keep the
foul in fuch a continual agitation as Lanfquenet,
Baffet, and other games, the event whereof de
pends intirely upon hazard. In the latter, as
every ftroke is decifive, and each event at
tended with lofs or profit, the foul is of courfe
in a kind of extafy, without there being any oc-
cafion to contribute to its pleafure by a ferious
attention ; a thing which through Jazinefs we
are always defirous of avoiding. Lazinefs is a
vice which may be furmounted fometimes, but
can never be utterly extirpated. Probably this
may be an advantage to fociety, for 'tis the
opinion of feveral, that lazinefs alone prevents
more wicked actions than all the virtues put to
gether. Thofe who are fond of wine, or addicted to
any other vice, are frequently more fenfible;; of
the unhappy confequences thereof, than thofe
who attempt to admonifh them ; but the foul is
naturally inclinable to refign itfelf to whatfoever
occupies it, without being at the trouble of acting
with too intenfe an application. Hence the
greateft part of mankind are fubject to taftes and
inclinations which furnifh them with frequent op
portunities of amufing themfelves agreably with
quick and pleafing fenfations. Trahitfua quemque
voluptas. The general aim and view of all men
3 is

Poetry and Painting. 21
is here the fame, but as they are not organized
all alike, the pleafures which they purfue are of
a various nature.

CHAP. III.
That the principal merit of poems a ?<' pictures
confifts in the imitation of fuch :bjec7s as
would have excited real paffions. The paf
fions which thofe imitations give rife to, are
only fuperficial.
SINCE the moft pleafing fenfations that our
real paffions can afford us, are balanced by
fo many unhappy hours that fucceed our enjoy
ments, would it not be a noble attempt of art
to endeavour to feparate the difmal confequences
of our paffions from the bewitching pleafure we
receive in indulging them ? Is it not in the power
of art to create, as it were, beings of a new
nature ? Might not art contrive to produce ob
jects that would excite artificial paffions, fufficient
to occupy us while we are actually affected by
them, and incapable of giving us afterwards any
real pain or affliction ?
An attempt of fo delicate a nature was re-
ferved for poetry and painting. I do not pre
tend to fay, that the firft painters and poets, no
more than other artifts, whofe performances may
not perhaps be inferior to theirs, had fuch exalted
C 3 ideas,

22 Critical Reflections on
ideas, or fuch extenfive views, upon their
firft fitting down to work. The firft inventers
of bathing never dreamt of its being a remedy
proper for the curing of certain diftempers ;
they only made ufe of it as a kind of refrefhment
in fultry weather, though afterwards it was dif-
covered to be extreamly ferviceable to human bo
dies in feveral diforders : In like manner, the firft
poets and painters had nothing more in view
perhaps, than to flatter our fenfes and ima
gination ; and in labouring with that defign,
they found out the manner of exciting ar
tificial paffions. The moft ufeful difcoveries
In fociety, have been commonly the effect
of hazard : Be that as it will, thofe imaginary
paffions which poetry and painting raife artifi
cially within us, by means of their imitations,
fatisfy that natural want we have of being em
ployed. Painters and poets raife thofe artificiaL paffions
within us, by prefenting us with the imitations
of objects capable of exciting real paffiPns. As
the impreffion made by thofe imitations is of
the fame nature with that which the object
imitated by the painter or poet would have made ;
and as the impreffion of the imitation differs
from that of the object imitated only in its
being of an inferior force, it ought therefore
to raife in our fouls a paffion refembling that
which the object imitated would have excited.
In other terms, the copy of the object ought to
ftir up within us a copy of the paffion which the
object

Poetry and Paintig. 23
object itfelf would have excited. But as the
impreffion made by the imitation is not io
deep as that which the object itfelf would have
made ; moreover, as the impreffion of the imi
tation is not ferious, inafmuch as it does not
affect our reafon, which is fuperior to the illufory
attack of thofe fenfations, as we fhall prefently
explain more at large : Finally, as the impreffion
made by the imitation affects only the fenfitive
foul, it has confequently no great durability. This
fuperficial impreffion, made by imitation, is
quickly therefore effaced, without leaving any
permanent veftiges, fuch as would have been left
by the impreffion of the object itfelf, which the
painter or poet hath imitated.
The reafon of the difference between the
impreffion made by the object, and that made
by the imitation, is obvious. The moft finifh-
ed imitation hath only an artificial exiftence,
or ahorrowed life ; whereas the force and activity
of nature meet in the object imitated. We are
influenced by the real object, by virtue of the
power which it hath received for that end from
nature. In things which we propofe for imitation,
fays Quintilian, there is the ftrength and efficacy of
nature, whereas in imitation there is only the weak-
nefs of fiction*.
Here then we difcover the fource of that plea
fure which poetry and painting give to man. Here
we fee the caufe of that fatisfaction we find in
* Namque iis qua* in exemplumaffumimus, fubeft naturaJS vera
wis, contra emnis imitatio fiBa. Quint. Inft. lib. io. cap. z.
C 4 pictures,,'

24 Critical Reflections on
pictures, the merit whereof confifts in fetting be
fore our eyes fuch tragical adventures, as would
have ftruck us with horror, had we been fpecta
tors of their reality. For as Ariftotle in his
Poetics fays, Tho' we fhould be loth to look at
monfters, and people in agony, yet we gaze on thofe
very objects with pleafure when copied by painters ;
and the better they are copied, the more fatisf action
we have in beholding them a.
The pleafure we feel in contemplating the imi
tations made by painters and poets, of objects
which would have raifed in us paffions attended
with real pain, is a pleafure free from all impu
rity of mixture. It is never attended with thofe
difagreable confequences, which arife from the fe-
rious emotions caufed by the object itfelf.
A few examples will illuftrate, better than all
my arguments, an opinion, which, methinks, I
can never fet in too clear a light. The maffacre
of the innocents muft have left moft gloomy im-
preffions iii the imaginations of thofe, who were
real fpectators of the barbarity of the foldiers
flaughtering the poor infants in the bofom of their
mothers, all imbrued with blood. Le Brim's
picture, where we fee the imitation of this tra
gical event, moves indeed our humanity, but
leaves no troublefome idea in our mind ; it ex
cites our compaffion, without piercing us with
a Sjlftiiii/ it THTB To evf/iGauimi Iwi luv 'tffav' a yap avra Xv
5r»lfws ogup.iv, txim raj cixoVa; tcs; fta^ira JjxgiGwfMws, pcaifff-
f*tf Sew^aflsj, oiov Sijfiwti te f*of(pa; run cly^nJlaTat, xj iisk^Sv.
Arift. Poet. cap. 4. real

Poetry and Painting. 25
real affliction. A death like that of Phaedra, a
young princefs expiring in the midft of the moft
frightful convulfions, and accufing herfelf of the
moft flagitious crimes, which fhe has endeavoured
to expiate with poifon •, fuch a death, I fay, as that,
would be one of the moft frightful and moft dif-
agreable objects. We fhould be a long time be
fore we could get rid of the black and gloomy
ideas which fuch a fpectacle would undoubtedly
imprint in our imagination. The tragedy of
Racine, wherein the imitation of that event is
reprefented, touches us moft fenfibly, without
leaving any permanent feed of affliction. We are
pleafed with the enjoyment of our emotion, with
out being under any apprehenfion of its too long
continuance. This piece of Racine draws tears
from us, though we are touched with no real
forrow ; for the grief that appears is only, as it
were, on the furface of our heart, and we are fen-
fible, that our tears will finifh with the reprefenta
tion of the ingenious fiction that gave them birth.
We liften therefore with pleafure to thofe un
happy men, who make a recital of their misfor
tunes by means of a painter's pencil, or of a poet's
verfes ; but, as Diogenes Laertius a obferves, it
would afflict us extreamly, were we to hear them
bewailing their fad difafters in perfon The pain
ter and poet afflict us only inafmuch as we defire
it ourfelves ; they make us fall in love with their
heroes and heroins, only becaufeit is thus agreable to
'T« yavv iMpxpttuv $p ijiiss %¥sa% aKwoptv rut Si Kara ata'fletav,
dnSuu Diogenes in Ariftippo. US ;

26 Critical Reflections on
us ; whereas we fhould be neither able to com
mand the meafure of our fentiments, nor regulate
their vivacity nor duration, were we to be ftruck
by the very objects which thofe noble artifts have
imitated. True it is, that young people, who grow paf-
fionately fond of reading romances, the charms of
which confift in poetic imitations, are fubject to be
troubled with real affliction and defire ; but thefe
inconveniences are not the necefiary confequences
of the artificial emotion caufed by the defcription
of Cyrus and Mandane. This artificial emotion
is only an occafional caufe, by fomenting in the
hearts of young perfons, that have fo great a re-
lifh for romances, the principles of thofe natural
paffions which are implanted in them, and by dif-
pofing them to be more fufceptible of ferious
and paffionate fentiments for thofe who are in
the way of infpiring them : 'Tis not Cyrus or
Mandane that are the fubject of their agitations.
Some men are alfo reported to have refigned
themfelves up intirely to the impreffions of poe
tic imitations, infomuch that reafon could ne
ver after refume its rights over their bewildered
imaginations. The adventure of the inhabitants
of Abdera is well known, who were fo ftruck
with the tragic images of Euripides' s Androme
da, that the imitation made as ferious, and as
ftrong an impreffion upon them, as could have
been poffibly made by the thing imitated ; in
fhort, they were bereft of their underftandings
for fome time, as it might have happened, had
they

Poetry and Painting. 27
they been fpectators of any real tragical adven
ture. The example alfo of a great wit ©f the
laft century, may be produced, who was fo af
fected with the pictures drawn in Aftrea, as to
imagine himfelf the fucceffor of thofe happy
fhepherds whofe country is to be found no where
but in prints and hangings. His diftempered
brain made him commit extravagances equal to
thofe which Cervantes makes his Don Quixot
guilty pf in a fimilar kind of folly, after fup-
pofing, that the reading of the proweffes of
chivalry had turned this poor gentleman's brain.
'Tis very rare to find people, who are at the
fame time fo very tender-hearted and weak-
headed -, admitting that any fuch exift, their
number muft be fo very inconfiderable, as not to
merit even the name of an exception to this our
general rule, that the foul continues always
miftrefs of thofe fuperficial motions which poems
and pictures excite within us.
There is even room to imagine, that the above-
mentioned vifionary fhepherd would never have
taken up his crook nor fcrip, if the daily fight
of real fhepherds had not contributed to his folly :
All that can therefore be allowed, is, that his
paffion would not have hurried him into fuch odd
extravagances, if his imagination had not been
over-heated with the reading of the chimerical
characters of Aftrea. With regard to the adven
ture of Abdera, the fact is lefs marvellous, as is
generally the cafe, in the original author, than in
the narrative of thofe who give it us at fecond or

28 Critical Reflections on
or third hand. All that Lucian " fays relating
thereto^ is, that the Abderitans having affifted at
the reprefentation of Euripides's Andromeda,
during the violent fummer heats, feveral of them,
who were afterwards taken ill, repeated fome verfes
of the faid tragedy in the raging tranfports of
their fever ; which was very natural, as that was
the laft thing that had made an impreffion upon
them. Lucian adds, that the winter colds, whofe
property it is to remove epidemical diforders pro
ceeding from excefs of heat, put an end at once
to their malady and declamation.

CHAP. IV.
Of the power which imitations have over us ;
and of the facility wherewith the heart is
moved.
THAT artificial paffions may be raifed
within us by the productions of poets, is
a truth which no body has attempted to difpute j
but it will feem extraordinary to a great many,
and perhaps to fome painters themfelves, that
pictures, that is, colors laid on canvas, fhould
be capable of raifing our paffions ; and yet this
ought to furprize only thofe who are ^atten
tive to what pafies within themfelves. Is it pof-
fible to behold Pduffin's picture, reprefenting the
death
* Luc. in his method of writing hiftory.

Poetry and Painting. 29
death of Germanicus, without being touched with
compaffion for this prince and his family, and
feized with indignation againft Tiberius ? The
Graces of the gallery of Luxemburg, and feveral
other pieces, would not have been disfigured,
could their owners have looked at them without
emotion ; for all pictures are not of that fort of
which Ariftotle fays, that there are pictures as ca
pable of reclaiming men, as precepts of moral phi-
lofophy \ Do perfons that are over nice and deli
cate, fuffer in their cabinets any pictures reprefent
ing monftrous and hideous figures, fuch as, for
example, the picture of Prometheus tied to a rock,
drawn by Michael Angelo ? The imitation of
the frightful object would make an impreffion
upon them, too fimilar to that which would have
been made by the object itfelf. S. Gregory, of
Nazianzum, relates a ftory of a courtezan, who
happening to caft her eyes, in a place where fhe
was not come with a defign of making any fe
rious reflections, upon the portrait of one Pole-
mon, a philofopher famous for an almoft miracu
lous change of life, entered into herfelf at the
fight thereof, and imitated the philofopher in his
converfion. We read in Cedrenus, that a picture
reprefenting the day of judgment, contributed
very much to the converfion of the king of the
Bulgarians. Thofe who in all ages have had
the government of nations, have generally made
ufe of pictures and ftatues, to infpire the people
thereby, with religious or political fentiments.
» Polit. 1. 5, Thofe

30 Critical Reflections on
Thofe objects have always made a great im
preffion on mankind, efpecially in countries where
they have a very great vivacity of fpirit, as in
the moft fouthern parts of Europe, and the op-
pofite parts of Afia and Afric. We need only re
collect the prohibition made by the tables of the
law to the Jews, to paint or carve any human
figure ; the impreffion made thereby, was too
great for a people naturally inclinable to grow
paffionately fond of all objects capable of moving
them. In fome proteftant countries, where, with a
view of reformation, pictures and ftatues have
been expelled the churches, the government never
thelefs makes ufe of the influence which painting
hath naturally over mankind, to reftrain there
by the people within the due refpect and rever
ence of the laws. We obferve over the placarts,
where thofe laws are written, pictures reprefent
ing the punifhments to which the infringers of the
law are condemned. It feems therefore, that in
this country, which abounds with political obfer-
vators, who extend their attention to feveral things
which pafs unregarded in other countries ; it
feems, I fay, that our obfervators have remarked,
that thefe pictures were proper for inftilUng into
children, who were one day to grow up to the
ftate of manhood, -a fear and dread of the chaf-
tifements inflicted by the law. In the republic
now mentioned, they teach their children to
read in books adapted to their tender capacities,
and filled with little pictures reprefenting the chief
events

Poetry and Painting. 31
events that have happened in their country, and
which are thought moft proper for infpiring them
with averfion to the power of Europe, whofe de-
figns are at that time moft fufpedted by the re
public. If the fyftem of Europe happens to
change, they make another book for their chil
dren, and fubftitute the power that is grown for
midable to their government, inftead of that
which has ceafed to be fo.
The profeffion of Quintilian was, that of teach
ing men the art of perfuading others, by force
of eloquence ; and yet Quintilian puts the power
of painting in competition with that of the art of
rhetoric. It penetrates in fuch a manner, fays
Quintilian, when fpeaking of the art of painting %
into the moft inward receffes of the foul, as to feem
to furpafs fometimes , even the force of eloquence.
The fame author relates b, that he had fometimes
feen the accufers hang up a picture on the tribu
nal, wherein the crimes of the perfon, whom they
prbfecuted, were f eprefented, in order to excite
more effectually, the judge's indignation againft
the criminal. Thus the art of painting was call
ed up to the affiftance of eloquence, at a time
when the latter was' arrived, at his higheft pitch of
perfection. * Sic. in {ntimqs ¦ fetietrat fenfui, ut <vim dicendi nonimnquam
fuperare mideatur. . . . .... Quint. Inft. 1. ii. cap. 3.
b Et ipfe aliquando "vidi depiBam tabulam fupra Jovem, in
imaginem' ret cuius atrocitate judex erat commavendus.,
Idem Ihft. 1. 6. cap. 2.
o When

32 Critical Reflections on
When we give ourfelves time to reflect on the
natural fenfibility of the heart of man, on his
proclivity to be moved by the feveral objects,
which poets and painters make the fubjects of
their imitations, we find it very far from being
furprizing, that even verfes and pictures have
the power of moving him. Nature has thought
proper to implant this quick and eafy fenfibility
in man as the very bafis of fociety. Self-love gene
rally degenerates into an immoderate fondnefs of
one's own perfon ; and, in proportion, as men
advance in years, renders them too much attached
to their prefent and future interefts, and too inflex
ible towards one another, when they enter delibe
rately upon any refolution. It was therefore ne-
cefiary, that man fhould be eafily drawn out of
this fituation. Nature, for this reafon, has thought
proper to form us in fuch a manner, as the
agitation of whatever approaches us fhould have
the power of impelling usj to the end, that
thofe, who have need of our indulgence or fuc-
cour, may, with greater facility, perfuade us. Thus
their emotion alone is fuffieient to foften us j
whereby they obtain what they could never
compafs by dint of argument and conviction.
We are moved by the tears of a ftranger, even
before we are apprized of the fubject of his weep
ing. The cries of a man, to whom we have no
other relation than the common one of humanity,
make us fly inftantly to his affiftance, by a me
chanical movement previous to all deliberation. A
perfon that accofts us with joy painted on his
countenance

Poetry and Painting. 33"
countenance, excites in us a like fentiment of joy,
even before we know the fubject of his con
tentment. lit ridentibus arrideht, Ha flentibus adfient
Humani vultus. Hor. de arte.
We laugh or weep, as we fee others do,
Our fouls agree, and take their paffions tdo.
Creech.
How comes. it that thofe actors, who feel a real
paffion irt declaiming, notwithftanding their being
guilty of fome effential faults in the execution of
their parts, have neverthelefs the power of
moving and pleafing us ? 'Tis becaufe thofe
who are moved themfelves, find it an eafy
matter to communicate their paffions. The
actors of whom I fpeak, are really touched,
which enables them to move us, notwithftand
ing their being incapable of expreffing the paf
fions with a due elevation and juftnefs of character.
They do all that is in their power ; and nature*
whofe voice they utter, fupplies the reft;
Of all the talents proper for raifing man to a
ftate of empire and command, a fuperiority of.
wit and knowledge is not the moft effectual ;
'tis the art of moving men as one pleafes -,
an art that is acquired principally by a perfon's
feeming to be moved, and penetrated with thofe
very fentiments he intends to infpire.J 'Tis the
art of being like Catiline, tujuftibet rei ftmula-
tor, which you may call, if you pleafe, the art of
being a complete actor. Thofe amongft the Eng-
. Vol.I. D lifh,

34 Critical Reflections on
lifh, that are beft acquainted with the hiftory of
their own country, do not mention the name of
Oliver Cromwell with the fame admiration, as the
generality of that nation •, they are far from allow
ing him that extenfive, penetrating, and fuperior
genius, with which fo many are pleafed to honour
him. They reduce therefore his whole merit to
his bravery, as a foldier •, and to a peculiar ta
lent of feeming penetrated with thofe fentiments
which he had a mind to feign, and appearing
moved with thofe paffions he defired to infpire,
as if he had really felt them himfelf. Thur-
loe, they fay, inftructed him occafionally, what
perfons he was to prevail upon in order to make
his project fucceed, and in what manner it was
proper to attack them •, juft as one would tu
tor a woman that is to be employed in acting
fome character of importance. Oliver fpoke to
them afterwards in fo pathetic a manner, as to
bring them over to his party. Europe, furprifed
to fee him convert to his advantage an event, which,
it was thought, would have terminated in his ruin,
did him the honor of complimenting him upon
this fuccefs, with feveral virtues which he was a real
ftranger to •, and, by this means, his reputation
was eftablifhed. Something like this has been
obferved of one of the greateft minifters, which
France had in the laft century, by fome of his
cotemporaries. When we happen to be at an affembly, where
feveral gamefters are feated round different
tables, what fecret inftinct is it, that induces
2 US'

Poetry as^ Pa i n t i n rj* 35
Us to fit down by thofe who game for moft mo-
hey, tho-' their manner of playing be not fo judi
cious, perhaps, as that at other tables ? What en
gaging attraction draws us back to themj after
having been led by our curiofity to fee the fport
of fortune in the neighbouring fcehes ? 'Tis theft
emotion and Warmth that engages us, and thofe
who play deepeft affect us moft, becaufe they are
moft affected themfelves.
In fine, 'tis eafy to conceive how the imi-
tatibhs of painting and poetry are capable of
nibvihg us, when we reflect, that a fliell, a flower,
a medal-, whereon time has fcarce left the traces
of letters or figures, are capable of raifing the
moft ardent and importunate paffions •, the curi
ofity of feeing them, arid the defire of pofleffing
them. Nothing is more common than to fee a
violent paffibn raifed by the moft trifling dbjeet ;
and nothing is furprizing in : our paffions but a
long continuance.

CHAP. V.
That the reafon of Plato's excluding poets from
his republic, was the too great imprefjion
their imitations make upon mam
'"""^•HE impreffionS which imitations in cer-
J^ tain cafes make upon man, appear fo ftrong,
and confequently fo dangerous tp Plato, as to oc-
D 2 cafion

36 Critical Reflections on
cafion the refolution he takes of tolerating no poe
tic imitation, or what is properly called poetry, in
that imaginary republic, whofe laws and govern
ment he fettles with fo much pleafure. He is
apprehenfive left paintings and poetic imita
tions fhould have too great an effect over the
imaginations of his favourite people, whom he
formed to himfelf of as lively a conception, and
of as exquifite a fenfibility, as his countrymen the
Greeks. The poets, fays Plato a, do not favour us
with the defcription of the internal tranquillity of a
wife man, who preferves a conftant equality of mind ;
an equality, proof againft all pain and pleafure. They
never make ufe of their talent of fiction, to give
us the picture of a man who bears the lofs of an
only fon with conftancy and refolution. They ne
ver bring upon the ftage fuch perfonages as know
how to Jilence their paffions, in order to liften to
the voice of reafon. The poets here are in the
a To h wjo; T«s avKfW/j'cTEis te T? tna^uq xj «7£o; iivf(ue( uyot
^ uwX-rirut; i%av "-"run, a.g ax dhiyirw te <pi (roper slvat xj ugylv,
xj d£iX!«5 tpi^ov ; (pjr'co.MEV /Ay iv. ovxSv to piv tzoM-rtv plpyo-u xj
woixi^ijv i%ii to a.yava.tc\iHov. to c^e tpfaijAov xj vo-v^im xj ij'Oo?, •aa.-
eaic'bno-wi o» ait uvTo avtcf, ste goMiov fu;*»j aa.o-Oa.1, ste /niftB/AEnoi',
twileq xalapa^Tv, uMws te «J izti.vr,yvpii, x} <na.{\<i<ia.T;(»$ ai/flcaL
woif ei; Haifa. ^xiKKiyopivoiq  'O $$ ptpnltx.^ to-oiulijs oSsAon oti
& ro-go; to toibtov t?s •^vx'ii ittlpvxs yz' y$ ij <ro@ia avrS tutb apiu-
xariSBTC/iyiv, tl pi)&si BvSoKip^anv h to<s "EToXXoj; ¦ aXKa otpo; to
ayamtcliXtm TS »J«5-oi*iJto» i]0os, ha. ro tip'tpy^av sinai*  Tojvtop
*J Ton f*;fi)iIiKo» £7oi«T)ii> <pijo-oftE» xuxr,\> 'Wo^^1E'|o;» Mia. 'ixdra t£
~bvXy ffwroit~», tw dtoiru aity^ ^«j»fofte»»ir. Plato de Repub.
lib. 10. right ;

Poetry and Painting. 37
right ; for a Stoic would certainly make a
very wretched figure in a tragedy. The poets,
fays the fame philofopher, who have a mind to move
us, prefent us with quite different objects ; they
introduce into their poems, men abandoned to vio
lent defires, men, made a prey to all the tumul
tuary impulfes of their paffions ; or ftruggling
with their impetuous agitations. In fact, poets
have fo ftrong a perfuafion, that it is the emo
tion of the actor, which makes us take a de
light in hearing him fpeak, that as foon as the
fate of thofe perfonages is decided, whether to be
happy or miferable, they are allowed to appear
no longer upon the ftage. Now, according tq
Plato, the habit of yielding to thofe paffions,
even thofe artificial ones produced by poetry,
weakens the fpiritual empire of the foul, and dif-
pofes us to let our felves be fwayed by the ir
regular motions of our appetites. This phi
lofopher, it feems, would fain eftablifh a con-
fufion of order in the actions of man, which,
purfuant to his way of thinking, pught to be di
rected by the underftanding, and- not governed
by the appetites of the fenfitive foul.
Plato a has alfo another objection againft poefes,
which is, their acting fo often the parts of thofe
1 T« &' dvthsvbefa fLy te i&iteTt, uAte hw&s Ava,\ jAijAHO-acrOai,
f«jo a.Xho [/.yaw tuv a.lcr%ga)ti' I'vcc ftij ex. Tr,$ [AtfA-yPEW, tutlvcti
tuKtSKaiGUHTW r) a* rio-Dyo-ai oti a> fiif* Ve IS Ida ix. viat cro^w^ (
SiccrOiscruaw, It? efl»i te x} cpuo-m x<z&lra,vtxi xj xocld crw/A», x} 9W"
»»s, xj »«t« rii S'ldvotay. Plato de Repub. 1; 3.
%> 3 vicious^

38 Critical Reflections on
vicious men, whofe fentiments they have a mind
to exprefs, whereby, he fays, they contract at
lengdi thofe corrupt manners which they repre-
fent daily in their imitations. There is, great rea
fon to fear, that their minds will be infefted
by entertaining conftantly thofe ideas, which
are the occupation of men of abandoned princi
ples. Frequent imitation, fays Quintilian3, talk
ing of comedians, communicates itfelf, at
to their morals.
Plato b corroborates with his own experience,
the remarks above-mentioned upon the pernicious
effects of poetry. After acknowledging that he
has been frequently bewitched with its charms,
he compares the uneafinefs he feels, in laying afide
Homer, to the pain of a lover, forced by the
imperious behaviour of his miftrefs to part with
her, after a long and dubious ftruggle with his,
paffion. Where 'tis to be obferved, that he calls
Homer the poet by preference, and the greateft
of all inventers. If Plato therefore excludes poets
from his republic, 'tis obvious that his reafpns are
the fame as tljofe which induce preachers to de-
a Frequens imitatio tran/it in mores. Quint. Infi. Orat.
Ofiax; Sttlgho-fio 0V1 ifflsft ye, t'l riva. 'l-fcii hiyov siiteiV ij isrfoj 11-
ffeiivft womltxi) xj >j p'fAtio-i;, w; xg-/j dvrvjv ei»«i It tao>.ei ivtopHfiAvv,
ao-ftivoi av xdla.Stxoip.sda., w; Ivuapiv ye r,ft.Ty avToTf x»]?ia(/.!vois
Vtt avbis  Ei Si yi p.y), J <piXe ETai^e, acicef oi ¦sroTE' ora iqacr-
SeVIe?, ids iynrailai py) Z^eKipo'i e\vcu tok egala, 0ia.iA.ey, 'ipaq S? dxi-
^oWai, Xj >!fAEi; ovtu, ffid To» eyfeyoyira [My eqwla. iy,s ToiapTri
-woiwriwt, wi t»5 tot xaXw vro>\{luSt r^otp^,, tutot ftsy \<?dp.$a,
0#>£vasi dvnv fc;5 ^rirm xj d^tj-d-t-vi. Plato de Repub. 1. 10. ,

k Poetry and. Painting. 39
claim againft the ftage, or which occafioned the
exile of thofe great men from Athens, who had
diftinguifhed themfelves by their popularity.
Thefe are the motives, which induced this phi
lofopher to profcribe that part of the poetic art,
which confifts in painting and imitating; for he is
willing to admit into his republic the part of the faid
art, which is frequently called verification, and which
we fhall diftinguifh often in the courfe of thefe re
flections by the name of the mechanic part of
poetry. He even commends this latter part,
inafmuch as it contributes to render the dif
courfe more pompous, and more agreeable
to the ear, by introducing therein numbers
and harmony, things much more pleafing than
the cadence of profe. According to him the
praifes. of the gods and heroes thrown into me
tre, become much agreabler to the ear, and
eafier to the memory. His defign is therefore to
retain in his republic fuch parts only of each art,
as are almoft incapable of being pernicious, whilft
he explodes thofe which he apprehends may prove
dangerous to fociety. Thus he*banifhes from
his commonwealth thofe meafures of ancient
mufic, whofe foft and effeminate airs were
become fufpicious to him •, and retains fuch
as feem not to threaten any kind of ill con-
fequence. We might anfwer Plato, that a neceffary, or
ufeful art, ought not .to be excluded from fo
ciety, beeaufe of its. being liable to be perverted
tQ badvpurpofes by thofe that are acquainted with
D 4 "*

40 Cri tic al Reflections on
its pernicious ufes. None but fuperfluous and
dangerous arts ought to be profcribed by go
vernments ; and as for thofe that are ufeful in
their nature, 'tis fufficient that proper care be -
taken to preferve them from being abufed. Plato
does not forbid the planting pf vines on the little
hills of his republic, notwithftanding the abufe
C wine is frequently the caufe of great djforders ;
and the allurements of that liquor induce people
oftentimes to drink to excefs.
The good ufes that feveral poets have in all
ages made of the invention and imitations of
poetry, fufficiently evince, that it is far from
being an art unufeful to fociety, As it is na
turally as proper for the defcription of thofe
actions which are capable of infpiring men with
virtuous thoughts, as of thofe which may con-:
tribute to ftrengthen their vicious inclinations ; the
whole bufinefs therefore is to apply it to good pur-
pofes. The defcription of virtuous actions warms
the foul, elevates it in fome meafure above itfelf,
and excites the moft laudable paffions within us,
fuch as the love of our country, and the thirft of
glory. The habit of thofe paffions enables us to
make feveral efforts of courage and virtue, which
reafon alone could never induce us to attempt. In
fact, the good of fociety calls upon us frequently
for fervices cf fo very difficult a nature, that it is
very happy for us, if we can bring in the paf
fions as auxiliaries, to enable us to difcharge our
duties. Befides, a good poet knows how to range
his defcriptions of the vices arid paffions, fo as to
ren-

Poetry and Painting. 41
fender wifdom and virtue ftill more amiable tq>
his readers. But we have dwelt long enough
upon this fubject, efpecially as there is no danger
(as we fhall further obferve hereafter) of the French
poetry's gaining fuch an afcendant over the minds
of men, as that whereof Plato fo much dreaded
the ill confequences ; not to mention that we are
neither of fo lively, nor of fo fenfible a difpofition
as the Athenians.
But Plato raifes here another objection againft
the merit of poetry, which is, that poets are only
imitators and copiers of the works and produc
tions of other artifts. The poet", who entertains us
with the defcription of a temple, according to this
philofopher, is no more than a copier of the architect
that built it. Here I join iffue with him, and in
fact I fhould chufe to be the architect of St. Peter's
church at Rome, rather than the poet that had
made an elegant defcription of it. I grant alfo,
that there is a greater merit in finding out the pro
portions which render a fhip a prime failor, than in
defcribing the rapidity of its courfe through the
wide ocean. But it alfo happens frequently, that
there is lefs merit in being the maker of fome
things than the imitator. Is it not a greater ho
nor, for iriftance, to have defcribed an old book,
» Tsto (y) 1? 0?) EfioiyE cW~fi,E7gi07fl!To; at ^oa-ayoptvie^al uiu.rj-
T»« s ixittoi oNjfuapyoi. thy (ij» & lyu) tJ» tb tjits upo. yeyyuM-
Tos din rife tpio-eut;, ptpiiTA* xa.\e7$ ; mdvv pen h, elpi) • ravr aqx
ireci x) 0 r%ayuhoirows' e Imp . [Aipiflvs irtti, <rjp£7o; T15 dira ficc'ci-
J^w?x} T?f aAufleias 'B'ifvxuf x} "EWTSf of dfaoi (M[tifl»i. III.
Plato deRepub. 1. 10.
4 as

42 Cri.tiqajl Reflections on
as Boileau has done in the following lines, than, to
have either bound or printed it ?
A ces mots: il fajfit un gros Infortial.,
Grojft des vifionsi d'Jccurfe. & dZAlciat^
Inutile ramas dfi Gfithique ecriture^
Dont quatre ais mat unis formoient la couverture
Entouree a, demi d'un vieil parchemin noir,
GjUrpendoit, a ir°is elms un refie de fermoir.,
Boileau Lutrin, cant. 6.
With this he Fox's book of martyrs chofe,
Four illjoin'd boardsi the coverture compofe,
Burrow'' d by worms, and edgyd with iron round,
With old black fheep-fkin only half-way bound;
No ftlken, ties it had, but at each-hajp
Mung by three nails: a- remnant of a clafp.
Here the. copy excels the original., Befides,
what numbers' of things are imitated by poets,
that are not the handy-work of man, fuch as
thunder, and*other meteors, ahd'in fhort all' nature,
that wonderfiil production of the Creator ? But
this difcourfe might foon be fwelled to a philo-
fophical difcuffion, which would lead us too far. ;
let us conclude therefore, with obferving, that the
fpciety, which would object againft communicating
with thofe^ whofe arts might be perverted' tp~ bad
ufes, would foon become the feat of ftupidity and
dulnefs.

v* Jri *^b. P«

Poetry and. Painting. 43
CHAP. VI.
Qf the nature of thofe fubjects which painter*
andpoets treat of. That they cannot chufe
for imitation too engaging afubjeB.
SINCE the principal charm of poetry arid ,
,. painting, even the very power of moving
and pleating, proceeds from the imitations of ob
jects capable of engaging us ; the greateft im?
prudence a poet or painter can commit, is to chufe
for a principal object, of imitation, fuch things as
we fhould look upon with an eye of indifference
in nature ; or to employ their art in the defcrip
tion of fuch actionSj as would draw only a mid-*
ling attention, were we really, to behold them. How
is, it poffible for us tp be touched with the copy of
an original, when the original itfelf is incapable of
moving^ us ? How fhall our attention be engaged
by a picture reprefenting a peafant driving a cou
ple, of beafts along the highway, if the very action
which this picture" imitates,, has no power of af
fecting us ? A tale in verfe, defcribing an adven
ture, which we have feen unconcernedly, will be
muCh lefs able to .give us any concern, The imi
tation operates always wj,th lefs force, as,Quintilian
pbferyes % than, the o$je£i imitated. The imitation
*j £>gicquM.alfen. fimile eft, neeeffe. eft. minus fit eo, quodimi-
tatyx. Quint,. Ipi^ 1, ip-,, cf 2. therefore

44 Critical Reflections an
therefore is incapable of moving us, when the object
imitated can have no effect upon usj The fubjects
which the Teniers, Wowermans, and other painters
of the fame rank have chofen for imitation, would
have very little engaged our attention. There is
nothing in the action of a country feaft, or in the
amufements of a parcel of foldiers in a guard-
houfe, that is capable of moving us. The imi
tation therefore of thofe objects, may poffibly
amufeus fome few moments, may even draw from
us an applaufe of the artift's abilities in imitating,
but can never raife any emotion or concern. We
commend the painter's art' in copying nature fo
well, but we difapprove of his choice of objects
that have fp little in them to engage us.
The fineft landfkip, were it even Titian's or
Caraccio's, does not affect us more, than the
profpect of a frightful or agreable fpot of land ;
there is' nothing in fuch a picture that can be
called really entertaining, and, as it ftrikes us
but little, fo as little it engages us. The moft
knowing painters have been fo thoroughly con
vinced of this truth, that it is very rare to find
any mere landfkips of theirs without an intermix
ture of figures. They have therefore thought
proper to people them, as it were, by introdu
cing into their pieces a fubject compofed of fe
veral perfonages, whereof the action might be
capable of moving, and confequently of engaging
us. 'Tis thus that Pouffin, Rubens, and feveral
other great mafters, have employed their art.
They

P o e try and Painting. 45
They are not fatisfied with giving a place in their
Jandfkips to the picture of a man going along the
high road, or of a woman carrying fruit to
market ; they commonly prefent us with figures
that think, in order to make us think •, they paint
men hurried with paffions, to the end that ours
may be alfo raifed* and our attention fixed by this
very agitation : In fact, the figures of thofe pieces
are much more talked, of than the trees or ter^-
raffes. The famous landfkip, fo often drawn by
Pouffin, and which is commonly called the Arca
dia, would not have been fo highly efteemed, had
it not been embellifhed with figures.
The fame of thofe blifsful regions is univerfally
known, which were fancied to have been once in
habited by the happieft race of men that ever the
earth produced 5 men engaged in an uninterrupted
feries of pleafures, and ftrangers to all difquiets
or cares, except fuch as are attributed in romances
to thofe chimerical fhepherds, whofe fituation is
reprefented to us as an object worthy of our de-
fires. The picture abovementioned exhibits a
landfkip of that delightful country : In the mid
dle thereof you fee the monument of a young
maid fnatched away in the flower of her age ;
which appears from her ftatue lying on the tomb,
after the manner of the antients. The fepul-
chral infcription contains thofe few latin words,
Et in Arcadia ego : And I was once an inha
bitant of Arcadia. But this fhort infcription
draws the moft ferious reflections from two
youths and two young virgins decked with gar
lands,

46 CRlf ICAL REFLECTIONS Oft
lands, who feem to be ftruck with their having
thus accidentally met with fo melancholy a fcenej
in a place where one might naturally fuppofe they
had not been in purfuit of an object of forrow*
One of them points with his finger to the in
fcription, to make the reft Obferve it, whilft the
remains of an expiring- joy may yet be difeertted
through the gloominefs of grief which begins td
diffufe itfelf over their countenances. Here you
imagine yourfelf liftening to the reflections of
thofe youthful perfons upon death* which fpares
neither age nor beauty, and againft the attacks df
which the moft happy climates can afford no fanc-
tuary. Your fancy now fuggcfts to you, the affect
ing fpeeches they are going to make to each Other
upon recovering from their firft furprizej which
you will naturally apply to yourfelf, and to
thofe whom you have a concern for.
What has been faid with regard to painting, is
equally applicable to poetry ; fince the imitations
which the latter makes of nature, affect Us only
in proportion to the impreffion made by the thing
imitated. The beft verfified tale imaginable, the
fubject whereof hath nothing in its nature ridicu
lous, will never be capable of exciting laughter*
A fatire, which does not kt in a clear light forne
truth, whereof I had already a confuted idea, nor
contains none of thofe maxims, whofe concifenefs
of expreffion, and fublimity of thought} render
them worthy of being dignified as proverbs ; fuch
a fatire perhaps may be commended as a welh
written piece, but makes no impreffion, nor leaves no

Poetry and Pa i n t i n G. jft
no defire of a fecond perufal in the mind of the
reader. An epigram without any vivacity of
Thought, or on fuch a fubject as would not bear
iiftening to with pleafure in profe, let the verfifi-
cation and rhyme be ever fo well finifhed, will ne
ver fix itfelf in your memory. A dramatic
poet, whofe perfonages appear in characters of fo
little concernment, as I fhould not be Uneafy to fee
my moft intimate acquaintances acting thofe very
characters in real life •, is very far from engaging
me in favor of his perfonages. . 'Tis iffipoffible
for the cppy to affect me, if I cannot be touched
with the original.

C H A P. VII.
That we are more affected with tragedy than
comedy, becaufe of the natur-e of thofe fubjecJs,
which tragedy treats if.
WHofoever reflects that tragedy has a much
ftronger power of affecting a great part of
¦mankind, than comedy, will eafily conclude frpin
thence, that their imitations are np further inte-*-
refting, than in proportion to the gfeatef or letter
impreffion, which the object imitated Would have
made upon us. Now it is certain, that men in
general are not fo rnuch moved With the theatrical
" action during the reprefentation of a comedy, as
during

4$ Critical REFifBc.TioNs on
during that of a. tragedy. Thofe, whofe chief amufs-
ments confift in dramatic poetry, talk more fre
quently* and with a greater warmth of the tra
gedies, than of the comedies they have feen repre-
fented ; and -have generally a greater number
of verfes by heart from Corneille and Racine's
pieces, than from thofe of Moliere. In fine, we
are readier to excufe a mediocrity in the tragic
than in the comic ftile, tho' the latter feems
not to have the fame command over our atten
tion, as the firft.

Habet comcedia tanto

Plus onerist quanta venia minus.
Hor. 1. 2. ep. ij
The comic then was thought the eafter way,
Becaufe 'tis common humor makes the play ;
Yet 'tis the hardeft, for the faults appear } '
So monftrous and the critics fo fevere, ^
That e'en their greateft mercy cannot fpare^ j ,
Creech.

i

Thofe, whofe labors are defigned for the ftage,
lalk all in the fame ftrain, and unanimoufly agree,
that there is not fo much danger in giving the
public a rendezvous to divert them with weep
ing, as to amufe them with laughing.
One would imagine, neverthelefs, that comedy
ought to draw men's attentions more than trage
dy. A comic poet does not exhibit to the fpecta tors

Poetry and Pa i n t i n g. 49
tors heroic characters, or fuch as they have no
knowledge of but from fome vague ideas formed
from the relation of hiftorians : they do not enter
tain the pit with confpiracies againft the ftate,
with oracles and other marvellous events, and
fuch as the greateft part of the fpectators, who
have never had any fhare in the like adventures,
would not be able to tell whether the circum
ftances and confequences thereof are fet forth with
any refemblance of truth. On the contrary, the
comic poet entertains us with the picture of
our friends, and of thofe with whom we have a
conftant intercourfe and familiarity. The theatre,
according to Plato % fubfifts, as it were, intirely by
the errors and foibles which are daily incident to
men, by reafon of their not being fufliciently ac
quainted with themfelves. Some imagine them
felves more powerful than they really are, fome
more knowing, and others, in fine, moreamiable.
The tragic poet expofes the inconveniences ari-
fing, from, the want of felf-knowledge in fove-
vereigns and other independent perfons, the con
fequences of whofe vindictive temper make gene
rally a great noife, whofe refentments are naturally
violent, and whofe paffions proper for the ftage are
capable of being the fprings of the greateft events.
The comic poet exhibits the confequences of felf-
ignorance among the common people, whofe re
fentments are fubordinate to the Lws, and whofe
paffions, proper for the fcenes, are productive only
of domeftic broils «nd ordinary adventures.
» In Phil, pi 48.
Vol. I. E The

£o Critical Reflections m
The comic poet entertains us therefore with the
adventures of. our equals, and prefents us with the
portraits of originals, that are Conftantly before
us. He makes even the pit, if the expreffion
be allowed me, mount upon the ftage. Man
therefore, who is naturally fond of any difcovery
he can make of his neighbour's foibles, and defi-
rous of all knowledge that can intitle him to leffen
his efteem of others, ought naturally to find his
account better with Thalia than with Melpomene ;
efpecially as Thalia is much more fertile than
Melpomene of leflbns for private people's inftruc-
tion. Tho' comedy may not perhaps correct
all the failings it expofes, yet it teaches us at leaft
how- to live with fuch as are fubject to thofe
failings, and how to conform fo in company, as
to avoid the rough ftiffnefs that provokes them, or
the mean compliance , that flatters them. Tragedy,
on the contrary, reprefents heroes, with whom our
fituation forbids us to attempt any refemblance,
and whofe leflbns and examples are drawn from
events fo diffimilar to thofe that we are common
ly expofed to, that the applications, which we
might be willing to make thereof, would be ex
tremely vague and imperfect.
But comedy, according to the definition of A-
riftotle \ is the imitation, of the ridicule of man.r
kind : and tragedy, purfuant to, the received fig*
H <5s xwftwoioj eriy, aattp uwojt.ey, fiifmcrig patiAorspwn ftEy,
U fisfToi XO.TO. ira.<7a.y xuziuv, «M<* T« «Vxga 2r« TO yeXZlt*
f*'.'£i o». Arist. poet. cap. c. nification

Poetry and Paint in g. 51
nification of the word b, is the imitation of the
life and converfation of heroes, or of men fubject,
from the elevation of their rank, to the greateft:
tranfport of paffion. It is the imitation of the
crimes and misfortunes of great men ; as likewife
of the fublimeft virtues of which they are capable.:
The tragic poet exhibits men, who are captives to
-the moft extravagant paffions, and the moft tu-
wrafeuous agitations. He fhews us a fort of unjuft,
feist all-powerful Deities, who demand a young in
nocent princefs to be facrificed at the foot of their
altars. He fets before us the great Pompey, the con
queror of nations, and the terror of the eaftern mo-
fiarchs, maffacred by his vileft (laves. 'Tis true
we never find our friend in any of the tragic per
fonages ; but their paffions are more impetuous,
and as the laws are but a feeble barrier to thofe
paffions, they are attended with much greater con-
Ifequences, than the paffions of comic characters.
Thus the terror and pity, which the picture of
tragical events excites in our fouls, engages us
¦much more than all the laughter and contempt
excited by the feveral incidents of comedies. .
*- Vet. Etym. Gnec.

E-a, C H A P.

52 Critical Reflections on
C II A P. VIII.
Of the different kinds of poetry, and their
character.
TH E fame reafoning will hold good in all
kinds of poetry, each of which moves us,
in proportion as the object, which it is defigned
to paint and imitate, is capable of affecting usjj 'Tis
for this reafon, that the elegiac and bucolic kinds
are much more engaging than didactic pieces. Thus
the verfes which Tibullus ftghed, and love whifpered
to him, to make ufe of the expreffion of the author
of the art of ppetry % give us an infinite pleafure
as often as we read them. Ovid charms us in
'thofe elegies, in which he has not fubftituted his
own wit inftead of the language of nature. Virgil's
eclogues are fo pleafing as never to caufe, even after
a repeated reading, any difrelifh or fatiety. They
continue to be agreable, even when they have
nothing new to entertain us with, and when the
memory out-runs the eye in the reading of them.
Both thefe kinds of poetry are defcriptive of men
who are fenfibly moved, and whofe pains or plea
fures would have deeply affected us, were they to
entertain us with the recital thereof themfelves.
Thofe epigrams, whofe merit confifts iua pun, or
in a witty allufion, pleafe us only while they are new.
sTis the firft furprife of thofe touches thatftrikes us,
* Boileau, and

Poetry and Yaintig. 53
arid once we retain the fenfe, the point is blunted.
But fuch epigrams as paint objects capable of mak
ing us relent, or of engaging in any other manner
our attention, make always an impreffion upon
us. The reading of them is frequently repeated,
and a great many retain them without having.
ever thought of committing them to memory.
Not to mention any modern poets, the epi
grams of Martial, which are moft generally
known, are not thofe wherein he has quib
bled on words, but where he has painted fome
object capable of giving us any great concern.
Of that kind is his epigram upon Arria the wife
of Petus.
Men ' of the beft knfe, who have wrote
dogmatic poems, and rendered verfe fubfer-
vient to the utility of their leffons, have con
duced themfelves purfuant to the principle now
expounded. In order to keep the attention of
the reader fteady, they have interfperfed their
verfes with images defcriptive of affecting
objects ; for thofe objedts, that are only pro
per for fatisfying our curiofity, do not engage us
near fo mueh as fuch as are capable of moving
our paffions. .' Thus, if the expreffion be indulged
me, a correfpondence with the mind is more difr
fieult to keep up, than one with the heart..

E 3 CHAP,

54 Critical Reflections; on
CHAP. IX.
Of the manner of rendering dogmatic fuK-
jcSls engaging.
WHEN Virgil compofed his Georgics,
which is a dogmatic poem, the title
whereof promifes us inftructions on agriculture,
and on the occupations of a country life, he took
particular care to ftock it with imitations drawn
from fuch objects, as would have engaged our at
tention in nature. Virgil is not even fatisfied with
thofe images, ftrewed with an infinite dexterity
of art throughout his whole work. He has given
place in one of thofe books to a differtation occa
fioned by the prefages of the fun, where he-
treats with all the beauty of invention, of
the murder of Julius Casfar, and of the com
mencement of the reign of Auguftus. He
could not have entertained the Romans with a
more engaging fubject. He inferts in another
book, the furprifing fable of Arifteus, with a de
fcription of the effects of love. In another he
entertains us with the picture, of a rural life, fei
as to form a moft pleafing landkfkip dtverfified
with the. moft agreable figures. In fine,, h@ im-
bellifhes this work with the tragical adventure of
Orpheus and Euridyce, an adventure capable of
drawing tears from thofe who might have been the
real fpectators of it. 'Tis fo far* true, that 'tis
thofe images which occafion fo much pleafure in
3 *he

Poetry and Painting. 55
the reading of the Georgics, that our attention
grows remifs upon coming to the precepts which
the title promifes. Even admitting that the ob
ject, which a didactic poem prefents us with, be
curious enough to bear reading once through with
pleafure, yet we could never read it over again
with fo much fatisfadtion as we fhould an eclogue.
The mind has no repetition of pleafure in learn
ing twice the fame thing ; but the heart has its
pleafure repeated in feeling twice the fame emo
tion. The pleafure of learning is exhaufted by
the pleafure of knowing.
Thofe dogmatic poems, which the authors
have neglected to imbellifh with a frequent repe
tition of pathetic' defcriptions, are very little read
by the generality of mankind. Let the merit of
thofe poems be ever fo great* the reading of them
notwithftanding is looked upon, not as an amufe-
ftient, but as a ferious -occupation. They are ge
nerally the leaft liked, and very few readers are
able to repeat any other verfes from them, but fuch
as contain pictures refembling thofe with which
Virgil is commended for enriching his Georgics.'
Every body feems to admire the genius and poe
tic fire of Lucretius, the energy of his expref-
fibhs, the bold manner wherewith he paints fuch
objects as a poet's pencil does not feem to be
made for ; in fine* his dexterity of throwing
things into verfe, which even Virgil himfelf
would have defpaired of being able to exprefs in
fehe language i>f the Gods: Neverthelefs this very
Lucrefla's is much more admired than read. There
. . ,i ;. E 4 is

56 Critical Reflections on
is more real utility to be extracted from his
poem de natura rerum, tho' it be fo full of
bad reafonings, than from Virgil's iEneid :
yet, the latter is read fo as to become fami
liar to all the world, whilft very few make Lu
cretius their favorite author. His is a work that
is never read but with a profeffed defign ; whereas
the iEneid is one of thofe books, whereon you are
led by a fecret charm to lay your hand, when wil
ling to amufe yourfelf an hour or two agreably.
Let us but tompare the number of the tranflations
of Lucretius, to that of the verfions of Virgil, into
all the polite languages, and we fhall find four
tranflations of Virgil's iEneid for one of the poem
de natura rerum. Men will be always fonder
of books that move them, than of thofe that
inftruct them. As heavinefs is more burthenfome
and difagreable to them than ignorance, they pre
fer therefore the pleafure of being moved, to
that of being inftrucled.

CHAP. X.
Objection drawn from pictures, to prove that
the art of imitation is more Engaging than
the very fubject of imitation. ¦
IT may be here objected, that fome pictures,
wherein we only fee the imitation of different
objects, which would have no way affected us,
4 had

Poetry and Painting. $7
had we feen them in their real nature, engage
notwithftanding our attention a long time. We
take much more notice of fruits and animals re-
prefented in a picture, than we. fhould of the rea
lity of thofe very objects. The copy here en
gages us more than the original.
To this I reply, that when we contemplate cu-
rioufly any pictures of this kind, our principal :at-
tention is not fixt on the object imitated, but upon
the art of the imitator, 'Tis not fo much the
object, as the artift's abilities, that draws our cu
riofity •, we beftow no more attention on the ob
ject imitated in 'the picture, than: we fhould on
that fame object in real nature. . This kind of
pictures does not engage- our curiofity half fo
long as thofe, wherein the merit df the fubject is
joined with that of the execution. No body ftands
as long gazing at a bafket of flowers done by Bap-
tift, or at a country feaft done by Teniers, as he
would on one ofPouffin's feven facraments, or
•fome other hiftbrieal compofitibn executed with as
much . ability, and .art,, as is difplayed by Baptift
and Teniers irt. theirs.. An hiftorical piece drawn
with as .[ much dexterity, as a guardrhoufe by Te
niers, would engage bur attention much more
than the guard-houfe.
Here we are always to fuppofe, asitisreafonable
we fhould, that -the painter's art has been equally
fuecefsful in both ; for it is not fufficient that the
pi&ures be drawn by the fame hand. For inftance,
we rbehold with, more pleafure one of Tenier's
country feafts, than one of his hiftorical pieces •,
but

58 Critical Reflection^ e»
but this is no argument at all againft us. Evtery
body knows that Teniers mifcarried always in his
ferious compofitionsi as he generally fuccecded in
his grdtefque ones.
Thus, by diftinguifhing the attention which is
given to the art, from that which is given to the
object imitated,, the truth of my propofition
will appear manifeft-, that the imitation never
makes a greater impreffion on us, than the object
imitated could have made. This is even true in
pictures, that are only valuable for the merit of
the execution.
The art of painting is fo extremely delicate and at
tacks us by means of a fenfe, which has fo great an
empire over our fouh that a pidture may be ren
dered agreable by the very charms of the execu
tion, iridep&isdent of fihe object whifch it reprefents :
but 3 have already Obferved, that our attention and
efteem are fixe; then wp©h the art of the imitator,
who knows how to pleafe, even without mov
ing us. We admire' the pencil that has been fo
capable of cbarttgffeking nature. We inquire how
it was poffible fca? an aftift to deceive our eyes to
that degree, a§ ts make us take colors laid on a
fertace for real feuit. A painter, therefore,, may
pafs for a great artift, confidered as an elegant
defigagr^ or as fb fkilfed in colors as to rival na
ture, thonghhe dots not even know how-to make
ufe of his talents in the reptefentatiiafi of affect
ing objects, or to give his pictures that fpirit and
referribfartce of life that afe ©snfpicuous in thofe
of K^fcwli sad Poaffia. The piastres of die
Lombard

Poetry and Pain Tina. 59.
Lombard fchool are admired, though the painters
thereof have frequently confined themfelves to the
flattering of the eyes, with the richnefs and exact*
nefs of their colors, without reflecting, perhapsy
that their art was capable of moving us : but
their moft zealous fticlders agree, that there is yet
one great beauty wanting in the pictures pf this
fchool ; and that thofe of Titian, for inftance,
would be infinitely more vakable, if he had pilch-*
ed upon affecting,, fubjects,, and if he had join
ed more fre-quently the talents of his own fehooJ
wish thofe of the Ronaan. The picture of this
great painter, which reprefents Peter Martyr* a Do*
pii$iean ffia*, maffacred by theVaudois;, is not per
haps die- moft valuable of his pieces for the rich*
ntfs of local- colors, tmt'withftanding its being
£p admirable, even in this refpect •» and yet Cava*
lier Ridelfi,- the- hiftorian of the painters of rise
iehooi ef Venke,, asknawledgeis * that this, of all
his pieces, is the moft generally known, and the
jnoft univerfally applauded. The reafon thereof
is,, becaufe the actioa ^of this; pi&ure is more en*
gagiag, and Titian has treated it with a greater
lefemblance of truth, and a more elaborate ex*
g*effion of the paflious* thar* any of his other
p!«ces. a Pager i^k-

CHAP,

60 Critical Reflections w?
CHAP. XI.
That the beauties of execution only cannot ren
der a poem afinifhedpiece, though they can a
picture.
THOSE who have no other merit but that
of excelling in verfification, and are in
capable of painting any object proper to move us ;
or who, according to the phrafe of Horace, com
mit nothing but harmonious nonfenfe to paper, are
not equally intitled to be ftiled poets, as the others
above-mentioned are to be painters. The public
has never fet any value upon the works of a poet,
who has only the talent of excelling in the mecha
nic part of his art. It would be wrong neveiS
thelefs, to charge the public with feverity towards
poets, and with indulgence to painters. There is a
much greater difficulty in being {killed in colors*
and an elegance of drawing, than in knowing
how to range words and to rhime exactly. Befides,
there is no imitation of nature in the compofitions
of a meer verfifier ; or, at leaft, as I fhall explain
more at large in the courfe of this work, it is
very difficult for French verfes to imitate, in the
pronouncing of them, the found which the fenfe
of thofe verfes defcribe, fo as to give repu
tation to a poet incapable of diftinguifhing him
felf in any other manner. Rhime is no imitation
of any beauty in nature ; but, as I have already
obfervedj

Poetry and Painting; 6i
obferved, there is a very valuable imitation of the
beauties of nature in the pieces of thofe painters, who
underftand nothing more thari the article of co
loring. In thefe we fee an imitation of human
flefh, and can difcern in their landfkips the diffe
rent effects of light, and the natural color of
objects. Whofoever therefore is once convinced that
the principal merit of poems and paintings
confifts in the reprefentation of fuch objects,
as are capable of moving and engaging us, were
we to be really fpectators of them, will eafily
conceive of what importance the choice of the
fubject is to painters and poets ; of fuch impor
tance, that they cannot chufe them of too inter-
efting and engaging a nature.

•Cui lecta pot enter erit res,

\

Nee facundia defer et hunc, nee lucidus or do.
Hor. de Arte Poetica.
Te writers try the vigour of your mufe,
And what her ftrength will bear, and what
refufe,
And after , that an equal fubject choofe j
For he that does this well, and choofes right,
His method will be clear, his words be fit.
Creech.

CHAP.

6z Critical Reflections on
CHAP. XII.
Thai a work has a iwofiM manner of m£
gaging us ; the one in a general fenfe, at
men ; and the other in a particular fenfe^
<as individuals.
A Subject may intereft us in two different
manners. In the firft place, it may be
interefting of its own nature, becaufe of the cir
cumftances being fuch as ought naturally to move
mankind in general. Secondly, it may be inter
efting with regard to fome particular perfcrts
only ; that is, there may be a fubject which is
only capable of engaging a very middling
attention in the generality of mankind, and
yet may be extreamly affecting with refpect
to particular people. Far example, a portrait is
a piece which is looked on with very great indif
ference by thofe who have no knowledge "of the
perfon it reprefents ; but this very portrait is of
great value to fuch as have any love*sfor the
original. A copy of verfes filled with fentiments
agreable to our own ideas, and descriptive -of fuch
a fituarion as that in which we are at prefent, or
have been formerly, would, not fail of being ex
tremely acceptable to us. A fubject containing
the principal , events of the hiftory of a particular
people, has a much greater power of engaging
their attention, than that of any other nation. The

Poetry and Pa in jng," 63
The fubject of the iEneid was much more inter-r
'filing, with refpect to the Romaps, than it is to
us. The fubject of the poem of the maid of
Orleans is more capable of engaging us than the
Italians, But it is unneceffary to exemplify any
longer this relative intereft, peculiar to certain
people and times, efpecially as it is an eafy matter
for painters and poets to difcem, whether the fub
jects they intend to treat of, are remarkably en
gaging, with refpect to thofe perfons,, before whom
they propofe to exhibit their productions^
I fhall be therefore fatisfied with making two
reflections on this article-. The firft is, thaf
it is exceeding difficult for a poem of any exr
tent, unaffifted -by the pathetic of declamation,
or by the farce and apparatus of the ftage, to
haye any tolerable degree of fuccefs, unlefs it be
compofed on a fubject, wherein the two inserefts
are united i that is, on a fubject capable of tpuchr
iag all mankind, and of being particularly agre-
8pk to the author's countrymen,, by reafon- of its
treating of thpfe matters, wherein they are chiefly
concerned. Poems are not read for inftruQ-
tion, but amufement L and when they have no
charms?* capable of e-agajging^ us, they are
generally laid afide- Now it is almoft iropof-
fible f$a? a poet to be fufficiently fertile in
fee#utie% and to be able to diverfify them Ufce-
WJfe merely,, as it were, by ftrength of genius,
W$\ at variety requifite for eqmmanding^ our at-
ten&pn, dnrjug the reading of an epic poem.
f Tis tm. hazardous to attempt £p excite, and fa-
tisfy

64 Critical Reflections on
tisfy our curiofity both together. 'Tis too bold art
undertaking, to pretend to make us fall in lo^e
with perfonages intirely indifferent to us, fo as
to be moved with all their 'different fcenes of
fuccefs and adverfity. The poet acts very right
in availing himfelf of all the inclinations and
paffions, that we are already fubject to ; efpeci
ally of thofe which belong to us properly as in
habitants of a particular place, or upon fome
other confideration. A poet, that would make
Henry the IVth the hero of an epic poem, would
find our inclinations already engaged in favor
of his fubject : perhaps his art would have been
Ufelefly exhaufted, before he could have render
ed us as well affected to an antient hero, or to
a ftrange prince, as we are already attached to
the memory of the greateft of our'monarchs.
The relative or particular intereft excites as
much our curiofity, or at leaft inclines us, as much
as the general intereft, to relent, as well as to
become attached to an object. The imitation of
things wherein we are interefted, either as inha
bitants of a particular country, or addicted to a
certain party, has a prodigious effect upon us.
How many parry writings are indebted for their
fame to the particular intereft and protection of
thofe who are attached to the caufe, which they
undertake to defend ? True it is, that the public
forgets quickly thofe books, that have no other
merit but what they borrow of particular con-r
junctures j wherefore a book muft have an in-
trinfic value to fupport its reputation. But
upon

Poetry and Painting. 65
upon a fuppofition of its having this intrin-
fic worth, and this merit of pleafing man
kind, the particular intereft contributes towards
rendering it fooner known to the public. A
good book, fupported by this intereft, makes its
way with greater expedition and fuccefs into the
world. Befides, there are relative interefts of a
long continuance, that are capable of reconciling
the attention of a great number of people to a
particular work for many fucceffions of ages.
Such is the intereft of a nation in a poem, which
relates the principal events of its hiftory, and de-.
fcribes its towns, rivers, and edifices that are
conftantly prefent to its fight. This particular
intereft would have crowned Chapelain's maid
of Orleans with fuccefs, had the poem been any
thing tolerable.
True it is, that all Europe reads Virgil's iE
neid to this very day with pleafure, tho' the ob
jects defcribed in this poem are no longer pre
fent to our fight-, and notwithftanding we are
not equally interefted in the foundation of the
Roman empire as the cotemporaries of Vir
gil, the chief of whom looked upon themfelves
as the defcendants of thofe heroes whom he fung.
The feafts, the combats and places mentioned by
him, are known to a great many of his readers,
only by what he relates of them himfelf. Never
thelefs the iEneid, that celebrated piece of the
moft accomplifhed poet that ever wrote, has
ftill feveral refources left, to fupport its cre
dit. Tho' this poem moves us at prefent only
Vol. I. F inaf-

66 Critical Reflections on
inafmuch as we are meii, yet it ftill has a ftore
of charms fufficient to engage us. But it would
be prefumption in any other poet, efpecially were
he to write in French, to flatter himfelf with
the hopes of a fuccefs equal to that of the iEneid,
that is, of moving without any intereft particu
larly relative to the reader. I fhall endeavour
to explain this point more at large in the courfe
of this work.
My fecond reflection fhall be on the injuftice
and temerity of fuch, as are fo ready to tax with
untruth, what the antients mention relating to the
¦prodigious fuccefs of fome particular works ; a te
merity which proceeds from their not attending
properly, to the manner, wherein thofe works inte-
-refted their admirers,. For example, thofe who are
furprized that Csefar fhould have been difordered
.upon the hearing of Cicero's oration for Ligarius,
and that the Dictator fhould have forgot himfelf
. fo far as to let his papers drop from his hands
¦ through an involuntary motion ; who pretend
likewife, that after having perufed this oration,
they are at a lofs to find out the paffage capable of
¦ making fo lively an impreffion upon fuch a man as
•Casfar ; thofe, I fay, talk like grammarians, whofe
ftudies have never been carried further "than the
tongue of man, without having ever attained to the
knowledge of the feveral motions of his heart.
Were they to put themfelves in Caefar's place, they
would be at no fuch lofs to difcover this paffage.
They would foon be fenfible how the Pharfalian
conqueror, who had embraced even in the field of
2 battle

P o e t ry s and Painting. ,67
battje his vanquifbed enemy with all the tender-
nefs of a fellow citizen, could have been moved
by the picture of this event drawn by Cicero, in-
fomuch as tp forget his being feated on the tri
bunal. Let us r.etum now to the general intereft, and
to thofe fubjects which derive from thence fo
great a power of moving mankind. I have al
ready obferved, that painters and poets ought
never to undertake any other fubjects. Thefe
artifts, I allow, are capable of inriching their
fubjects, that is, they can render fuch fubjects
interefting, as have nothing engaging in their
nature -, neverthelefs there are feveral inconve
niences which will naturally arife from treating of
fubjects which draw all their pathetic from the
invention of the artift. A painter, but more par
ticularly a poet, that treats of an uninterefting
fubject, has only two ways left of funnounting
its fterility, and of throwing the pathetic into
an indifferent action. Either he muft embellifh
this action by epifodes, or he muft change its
principal circumftances. If the poet fhould chufe
the former, the reader's interefting himfelf in
thofe epifodes, would only contribute to expofe
the frigidity of the principal action, and draw a
reproach upon him for not having anfwered the
title of his performance. If he changes the
principal circumftances of the action, which we
muft fuppofe to be1 fome event univerfall-y-
known, his poem becomes void "of probability.
Jfr. fact caivpt appear probable to us) after having
s-/' F2 " been

68 Critica ^Reflections <?#
been informed of the contrary by credible wit-
nefles ; as we fhall more fully explain, when we
come to fhew, that all kind of fiction is no more
allowable in poetry, than in painting.
Painters and poets therefore ought to examine
ferioufly, whether the action they have under
taken to treat of, would have fenfibly affected us,
had we really feen it ; and they fhould remember
alfo, that the imitation thereof will affect us a
great deal lefs. They fhould not rely intirely upon
their own penetration and judgment, in a decifion
whereon the fuccefs of their works fo greatly de
pends. Before, they grow fond of their fubjects,
or become wedded, in a manner, to their perfon
ages, they ought to confult their friends, whilft
it is yet in their power to reap any advantage
from amicable advices. 'Tis extremely impru
dent to defer afking opinion concerning a building,
that is already raifed above ground, when the ef
fential part of its plan can admit of no alteration,
without fubverting one half of the edifice.

-P

CHAP.

Poetry and Painting. 69

CHAP. XIII.
That there are fome fubjects particularly adapt
ed to poetry, and others fpecially proper for
painting. Of the manner of diftinguifl^.
. ing them.
TH E fubject.of imitation ought not only to
be interefting of its own nature, but more
over fhould be adapted to painting, if intended
for the pencil ; and proper for poetry, if defigned
for verfe. There are fome fubjects that are much
more fuitable to painters than poets, and others
that are fitter for poets than painters. I fhall en
deavour to explain this more at large ; but as I
have thought proper to be a little diffufed, in or
der to render myfelf more intelligible, I am afraid
I fhall ftand in need of the reader's indulgence
for the prolixity of this difcuffion.
A poet can tell us feveral things, which a
painter would find impoffible to exhibit. He
can exprefs feveral pf our thoughts and fen
timents, which a painter cannot reprefent, by
reafon of their not being attended with any pro
per motion, particularly marked in our attitude,
or precifely characterifed, in our countenance.
The fpeech of Cornelia to Casfar, where fhe dis
covers to him the confpiracy, that was juft ripe
for his deftruction.
F 3 Uexemple,

76 Critical Reflections on
Ifexemple que tu dois periroit avec toi !
May Rome the loft example fee in thee !
cannot be expreffed by a painter. He may, in
deed, by drawing Cornelia's couhtenance fuitable
to her fituation and character, give us fome
idea of her fentiments, and make us fenfible,
that fhe is fpeaking with a dignity that becomes
her ; but the thought of this Roman lady, who
defires the death of the oppreffor of the republic,
as a punifhmeht that may deter others from
making any future attempts upon liberty, and not
as a deteftabie crime, cannot be imaged by the
pencil. There is no picturefque expreffion that
can articulate, as it were, the words of old Ho-
ratius;, where he anfwers the perfon, who had afked
him, what his fon was able to do alone againft three
antagonifts ? Qu'il mourut, That he could die.
A painter may indeed let us fee, that a man
is moved with a particular paffion, , tho' ht
does not draw him in the action of venting it,
becaufe there is no one paffion of the mind,
that is not at the fame time a paffion of the
body. But it is extremely rare, that a painter
can exprefs, fo as to be fufficiently underftood,
the particular thoughts produced by anger, ac
cording to the proper character and circumftances
of each perfon •, or the fublime which it throws
out in words adapted to the fituation of the pefr-
, fonage that fpeaketh.
For example, Pouflin could, in his piece of the
death of Germanicus, exprefs all the different forts

Poetry and Painting. 71
forts and degrees of affliction, wherewith his
friends and family were penetrated, when they
law him poifoned, and expiring in their, arms ;
but he was incapable of giving 'us an account of
the laft fentiments of this prince, which are fo
extremely moving. This is left for the poet, who
can make him fay, If a death fo untimely as mine
had fnatched me away, even through fome mifiake
of nature,^ I ftsould yet have a right to complain
of the feverity of my deftiny ; but as I fail a victim
to treachery and poifon, 1 muft exhort you, my
friends, to be the avengers of my death, and not tv
Muft) to turn informers,, to obtain my injured manes
fatis faction : The public pity will certainly join with-
fuch accufers. A painter cannot exprefs the
greateft part of thefe thoughts, nor can he exhir
bit, in a fingle piece, more than one of fuch fen
timents as he is capable of expreffing. 'Tis true,
that in order to make us underftand the fufpicion
which Germanicus had of Tiberius's being the
author of his death, he can draw Germanicus,
fhewing to his wife Agrippina, a figure of Tibe
rius, exhibited in a ge'fture and air proper for the
diftinguifhing of fuch a thought ; but he is then
obliged to employ his whole piece in expreffing
this fingle fentiment.
As the picture, which reprefents an action,
fhews only an inftant of its duration, it is impoG-
fible for the painter to exprefs the fublime, which
thofe things, that are previous to its prefent fitua
tion, throw fometimes into an ordinary fentiment.
Poetry, on the contrary, defcribes all the remark-
F 4 able

72 Critical Reflections on
able incidents of the action it treats of, and that
which precedes reflects frequently the marvellous'
upon a very ordinary thing, which is faid or done
in the fequel. 'Tis thus poetry may employ the
marvellous that arifes from circumftances, which
may be called a relative fublime. Such .is the
fally of the Mifanthrope, who, in giving a feri
ous account of the reafons that debarred him from
fettling at court, after a Jong deduction of real
uneafy conftraints, which he efcapes by not fre
quenting the court, adds, Nor fhall I be obliged
to commend fuch Gentlemen s verfes.
This thought becomes fublime, by means of
the known character of the perfonage who is
fpeaking, and of the ill treatment he had juft
before met with, for having faid, that- bad
verfes were of no manner of value.
'Tis far eafier, without comparifon, for the
poet than the painter, to make us grow fond of
his perfonages, and to intereft us in their defti-
nies. The external qualities, fuch as beauty,
youth, majefty, foftnefs, which the painter can
give his perfonages, cannot intereft us fo much
in their favor, as the virtues and qualities of the
foul, wherewith the poet can imbellifh his heroes.
A poet can affect us as fenfibly with the misfor
tunes of a prince, whom we never heard menti
oned before, as with the difafters of Germanicus,
by reafon of the grand and amiable character
with which he can adorn the unknown hero, whom
he is defirous of recommending to our affections,
a This

Poetry and Painting, 73
This furpaffes a painter's fkill, who finds himfelf
reduced to make ufe of known perfonages, in or
der to move us ; his greateft merit confifting in
making us difcover thofe perfonages with certain
ty and eafe. 'Tis reckoned a mafter- piece in Pouffin,
to have rendered Agrippina fo ea'fy to be diftin-
guifhed in his picture of the death of Germanicus.
After having treated the different kinds of af
fliction of the other perfonages of the picture, as
paffions that were capable of being expreffed, he
places on Germanicus's bed-fide a woman of a
noble drefs and ftature, hiding her face with her
hands, and in an attitude intirely expreffive of the
deepeft forrow. 'Tis eafy to apprehend, that the
affliction of this perfonage muft furpafs that of all
the reft, fince this ableartift, defpairing to repre-
fent it,, got over the difficulty by a witty contri
vance. Thofe who know of Germanicus's having
had a wife that , was exceffively fond of him, in
whofe arms he breathed his laft, can diftinguifh
Agrippina with as much certainty, as the antiqua^
rians know her by her head-drefs and air, when
copied from the medals of this princefs. If Pouffin
be not the inventer of this poetic ftroke, which1
very likely he borrowed of the Greeks, who paint
ed Agamemnon with his face veiled at the facrifice
of his daughter Iphigenia ; yet this very ftroke is
an abfolute mafter-piece in painting. The received
cuftom in France, is to call this great man le
Pouffin ; fo that this le, t wherewith the Italians
accompany their illuftrious names, might induce
one to think, that le Pouffin was an Italian. But his

74 Critical Reflections on
rife name was Nicholas Pouffin, and he was bom
at AndeK in Normandy.
I have oftentimes wondered why painters, who
have fo great an intereft in making thofe perfon
ages (known, by whofe figures they intend to
nfave us, and who find it fo vaftly difficult to
diftinguifh the'm1 fufficieritly bythefole aid of the
pencil, why," I fay, they do not accompany al
ways their hiftorical pieces' with a fhort infcription.
The greateft part of the fpectators, who are in
other refpects capable of doing juftice to the
work, are not learned enough to guefs at the fub
ject of the picture. 'Tis to them fometimes an
agreable perfon that ftrikes them, but talks a lan
guage they do riot underftand. People foon grow
tired of looking at fuch pictures, by reafon that
pleafures, wherein the mind has no fhareyareof
a very fhort duration.
The Gothic 'painters, rude and coarfe as they
were, had fenfe enough to know the utility of in-
fcriptions, in order to render the fubject of their pic
tures more intelligible. True it is, that they made
as barbarous a ufe of that knowledge as of their
pencils. They had the odd precaution to draw their
figures with rolls coming out of their mouths,
whereon they wrote whatever they would have thefe
heavy inactive figures exprefs ; which was really
making them fpeak. Tho' the rolls here menti
oned, difappeared together with the Gothic tafte -,
yet fometimes the greateft mafters have judged
two or three words neceffary, in order to render
their fubjefts intelligible : Nay, feveral have not
even

Poetry etnd Pa t n 1 1 N Q. y$
even fcrupled to write them on fome part of the*
plan of their pieces, whete they could be of no
prejudice to the work. Raphael and Caraccio
have acted thus j arid Coypel has Infcribed even
feVeral feraps of verfes from Virgil, in the gallery of
Palace Royal, in order to rentier thofe fubjects more
intelligible, which he had borrowed of the iEneid.
Painters, whofe works are irtgraved, begin to
grow fenfible of the utility of thefe infcriptions j
wherefore they put them at the bottom of fuch
Prints, as are copied from their drawings.
The poet is much furer than the painter of at
taining to the imitation of his object. A poet
may ufe feveral ftrokes to exprefs the paffion and
fentiment of one of his perfonages. If fome of his
touches mifcarry ; if they do not exactly hit. their
aim •, if they ' do not communicate the intire
idea they are defigned to exprefs ; ftill a frefh fup-
ply of happier ftrokes can come up to the affiftance
of the former. Thefe, when joined together, will
be able to effect what a fingle one would not have
compaffed, and will thus exprefs the poet's idea
in its full force. All the ftrokes, which Homer
makes ufe of in order to paint the fury and im-
petuofity of Achilles, are not equally expreffive j
but the weak ones are ftrengthtned by others, to
whbm they reciprocally communicate a greater
force and energy. The feveral ftrokes, which
Moliere emplyos in the drawing of his Mifanthrope,
are not all alike beautiful ; but one helps out the
other, and, affembled all together, they form the
beft drawn character, and the moft aecompfifhed portrait

76 Critical Reflections on
portrait, that has ever appeared on the ftage. The
cafe is quite different with a painter, who , draws
each perfonage hilt once, and can only make ufe
of a fingle touch in the expreffing of a paffion on
each feature of the countenance, where he intends
to make this paffion appear. If the ftroke, which
is to exprefs the paffion, be not well formed ; if,
for inftance, when he paints a motion of the
mouth, its contour is not that line precifely which
he ought to have drawn, the painter's idea mif-
carries ; and the perfonage, inftead of expreffing
a paffion, makes , only a grimace. The painter's
fuccefs in the drawing of any other feature, may
indeed engage us to excufe his mifcarriage in de
lineating the mouth, but it cannot fupply the
.touch that is wanting. It even frequently hap
pens, that he attempts in vain to correct his mi-
ftake, recommencing again without any better
fuccefs ; and, like thofe who ftrive to recollect
fome particular word they have forgot, he finds
every thing except that very ftroke, which alone
can form the expreffion he wants to imitate.
Thus, tho' there are characters which a painter,
morally fpeaking, is incapable of expreffing, there*
are none but what a poet can copy. But we fhall
prefently fee, that there are alfo feveral beauties in
nature, which a painter can more eafily copy,
and form thereof much more moving imitations,
than a poet.
All men are fubject to grieve, to weep, to laugh,
and are fufceptible of a great variety of paffions,
but tshe very fame paffions have different characters to

Poetry and Painting. 77
todiftinguifhthem. The paffions are varied, even
in perfons, who, purfuant to the fuppofitibn pf
the artift, ought to be equally interefted in the prin
cipal action of his piece. Age, country, tempe
rament, fex, and profeffion, caufe a difference be
tween the fymptoms of a paffion produced by
the fame fentiment. The affliction or the fpec
tators of the facrifice of Iphigenia, arifes from the
fame fentiment of compaffion ; and yet this very
affliction ought to fhew itfelf differently, accord
ing to the obfervation above made, in each fpecta-
tor. Now it is beyond the poet's fkill to render
this diverfity perceptible in his verfe. If he does
it on the ftage, 'tis by the help of declamation,
or by the action pf the players.
We can eafily conceive, how a painter by the
help of age, fex, country, profeffion, and temper
ament, varies the affliction of thofe who are pre
fent at the death of Germanicus ; but it is diffi
cult to comprehend how an epic poet, for example,
can imbellifh his poem with this variety, without
loading it with defcriptions, that muft render his
work heavy and difagreable. He muft begin
with a tirefome detail of the age, tempera
ment, and even the apparel of the perfonages,
whom he defigns to introduce into his principal
action. An enumeration of that kind is fcarce ever
excufable ; for if he makes it in the beginning
of his work, the reader will forget it, and will be
confequently infenfible of thofe beauties, whofe
difcovery depends on what has efcaped his me
mory ; if he makes this enumeration immedi ately

78 Critical Reflections on
atefy before the cataftrophe? it will be an unfup-
portable delay to the unravelling pf the piece.
Befides, poetry wants expreffipns proper for in
ftructing us in jthe greateft part of thefe circum
ftances. 'Tis even as much as natural philofophy
can cpmpafs, with all the affiftance of proper and "
peculiar terms, to give a good defcription of
the difference of complexion, and character of
each fpectator. In order to give an eafy and di-
ftinct detail of ail thofe particulars, they ought to
be expofed to the fight.
On the contrary, nothing is mote eafy for a
fkilful painter, than to bring us acquainted with
the age, the temperament, the fex, the profeffion,
and even the country of his perfonagps, by mak
ing ufe of their dreffes, of the cplor of their flefh,
beards, or hair, of their heigth, thicknefs, and na
tural air.; as alfo of the habit of their bodies, of
their countenance, figure pf their head, phyfiogno-r
my, vivacity, .motion and color of their eyes, and
pf feveral other things which ferve to diftinguifh
the character pf a perfonage. Nature has im
planted in us all an inftinct, to difcern the
character of men ; which inftinct goes quicker and
further than our reflections on the fenfible marks
pf thofe characters are able to pervade. Now
this diverfity of expreffion is a wonderful mimic
.pf nature, which, notwithftanding its uniformity,
is always differenced in each fubject by fome
particular characteriftic. Where I do not find thip
diverfity, I have no longer a view of nature, but
of art. A picture wherein feveral heads and ex-
preffions

Poetry and Painting. 79
preffions are all alike,, was never copied after
nature. The painter therefore meets withno -obftr-uctipn
from the mechanic part of his art, in afljgning
to each expreffion a particular character. It even
frequently happens, that a painter, performing as
a poet, fills his fancy, as a colorift and defigner,
with various beauties, which would never have oc
curred to him, had he not been obliged to ex
prefs fome poetic ideas. .One invention produces
another. But a few examples will thrpw a greater
light upon this reflection.
Every body knows the famous piece of Ra
phael, where Jefus Chrift confirms to St. Peter
the power of the keys in the prefence ©f the apof-
tles : 'Tis one of thofe tapeftry pieces on the
the Acts of the apoftles, which pope Leo the Xth
ordered to be made for the chappel of Sixtus the
IVth, whereof the original cartoons are preferved
in the gallery built by -Queen Mary at Hampton-
Court. St. Peter holding the keys in his hands,
is on his knees before Jefus Chrift, and feems pe
netrated with an emotion conformable to his fitu
ation •, his gratitude and zeal for his mafter are
vifibly painted on his countenance. St, John the
Evangelift. is drawn in the form and attitude of ra
young man, as he was at that time : he feems to
commend, with a motion of franknefs quite
natural to his age, the worthy choice which
his mafter had made ; a choice which it vifibly
appears he would have made himfelf ; fo beau
tifully is the vivacity of his approbation marked by

80 Critical Reflections on
by the air of his countenance, and the eager move
ment of his body. The apoftle next to him, feems
more advanced in years, and fhews the phyfiogno-
my and countenance of a fedate man ; wherefore,
agreably to his character, he approves of the
choice by a plain motion of the arms, and
a n'od of the head. At the furthermoft end of
the group one may diftinguifh a fanguine and cho
leric man : he has a very frefh countenance, a
reddifh beard, a large forehead, a flat nofe, and all
the features of a fupercilious perfon. He looks there
fore with an air of difdain, and with a contracted
brow on a preference, which it is eafy to perceive
he thinks unjuft. Men of his temperament are
very ready to fancy themfelves not inferior to
their neighbours. Next to him is placed another
apoftle confufed in his countenance ; whofe melan
choly complexion is eafily difcerned by a pale
meagre face, a black broad beard ; by the habit
of his body, and in fhort, by all the ftrokes
which naturalifts affign generally to this complex
ion. He ftoops, and fixing his eyes fteadily pn
Jefus Chrift, feems to be devoured with a black
jealoufy, for a choice which he is not going to object
againft, though he is likely to retain a fpirit of re-
fentment for it a long time : in fine, it is as eafy
to diftinguifh Judas in this figure, as if one were
to fee him hanged to a fig-tree with a purfe about
his neck.
I have not improved here upon Raphael's ge
nius ; for I queftion whether it is even poffible
to carry a poetic invention farther than this great
painter

Poetry and Painting. 8i
painter has done in his beft pieces. Another
picture of the fame fuit of hangings reprefents
St. Paul announcing to the Athenians the un
known God, to whom they had erected an altar i
Here Raphael has made a poetic mafter -piece of
the auditory of this apoftle, whilft he confines
himfelf to the exacteft probability. A Cynic lean
ing on his ftick, and who may be diftinguifhed by
his effrontery and rags, the characterise of the
feet of Diogenes, looks on St. Paul with a cori-
fummate impudence. Another philofopheri who
by his air appears to be a man of refolution^
hangs his chin over his breaft, quite abforbed in
reflections, on the marvels he hears •, fo that one
may eafily perceive he has been ftaggered, and
is juft going to fubmit to conviction. Another has
his head hanging on his right fhoulder, and flares
at the apoftle with a fimple air of admiration j
which feems unaccompanied at prefertt With any
other fentiment. Another holds the fore-finger of
his right hand on his nofe, and has the gefturei
and appearance of a perfon who haS^ at length j
received very great lights relating to certain
truths, whereof he had a long time a jumbled con*
fufed idea. Oppofite to thefe philofophers the
painter has drawn feveral young men and women,
who exprefs their furprize arid emotion by1 gef-
tures fuitable to their age and fex. Spite and
vexation are painted on the countenance of a man
dreffed in fuch' an apparel, as the lawyers among
the Jews might have been fuppofed to have worn,
¦ Vol. L G i«

82 Critical Reflections 6ri
in thofe days. The fuccefs of St. Paul's predi
cation ought naturally to have produced this
effect upoh an obftinate Jew. The apprehenfion
of growing tireforne prevents me from enlarging
any further on the perfonages of this picture •, but
there is not one of them all, that does not give a
moft intelligible, account of its fentiments to an
attentive fpectator,
I fhall produce yet another example, as the
matter is of fufficient importance to bear it.
'Tis from Coypel's Sufanna, a piece that was
celebrated, even as foon as it came off the eafel.
Sufanna appears here before the people under an
accufation of adultery •, and the painter repre*
fents her in that very juncture, when the two
old fellows were making their depofitions againft
her. By her phyfipgnomy, and the ferene air of
her countenance^ in the midft of her affliction, k
is eafy to perceive, that though fhe caffs down
her eyes, 'tis not through remorfe but modefty.
The grandeur and dignity of her air fpeak fo ftrong-
ly in her favour, that one feels, at the very firft
fight, an inclination to declare a prifoner inno
cent, who appears with fuch a countenance. The
painter has diverfified the complexions of the
famous old men ; one appears frefh and fanguine,
and the other choleric and melancholy. The lat
ter, purfuant to the proper character of his tem
perament, which is obftinacyi, commits the crime
with heat and refolution. Rage and fury are fpread
through his whole countenance. The fanguine old
fellow feems to relent, and, notwithftanding all
the

Poetry and Pa i Jit in g. S|
the tranfport of his paffion, feels a remorfe that
ftaggers his refolution. This is the natural cha
racter of men of that kind of complexion, They
have fury and violence enough to feek revenge, but;
have not a cruelty and infenfibility fufficient to be
hold the confequences of their refentment, without
being touched with fome motions of compaffiom
'Tis eafy to infer from what has been hi
therto fet forthj that painting delights to treat of
fubjects, wherein it can introduce a great number
of perfonages interefted in the action. Such are
the fubjects above related, and fuch are alfo the
murder of Cjefar, the facrifice of Iphigenia, and
feveral others needlefs to be here mentioned; The
emotion of the affiftants fixes them fufficiently to
an action, once this action has the power of mov
ing them. This emotion renders them adtors,
as it were, in a picture ; whereas they can only
be fpectators in a poem. For example* were a
poet to treat of the facrifice of Jephtha's daugh
ter, he could introduce into his action but a
very fmall number of interefted actors. Thofe
perfonages, who have not an eflential concern
in the action, in which they are to play their
parts, are exceffively frigid in poetry. The
painter, on the contrary, can imbeUifh his action
with as many fpectators as he thinks proper. If
they do but appear to be moved, there is no-bo
dy will afk what bufinefs they have there.
Poetry therefore canDOt take the benefit of fo
great a number of actors. We haVe already ob
ferved, that a perfonage who is only indifferently
G a interefted

84 Critical Reflections on
interefted in the action, makes but a very difa-
greable figure. If he be deeply interefted, the
poem muft fix his deftiny, and tell us what is
become of him. The multitude of actors,
which a tragic poet employs fometimes in order
to conceal his fterility, becomes very often em-
barraffing to him, when, upon the unravelling
of the plot, he is obliged to get rid of them. He
is reduced therefore to the fhift of forcing them
to make away with themfelves by poifon or fword,
on the very firft motive that offers itfelf to his
imagination. Vun meure vuide de fang, T autre plein de fene *.
Some bloodlefs dyd, and fome by opium ftept.
This is a verfe of Boileau, which may be juftly
applied to thefe perfonages, tho' it was not defigned
for them. There is no demand made after the de-
ceafed perfon, he is carried off and interred. But this
fanguinary reform, which converts the ftage into
a field of battle, prejudices the fpectator againft
fo many murders void of probability. 'Tis not
the quantity of blood which is fpilt, but the man
ner of fpilling it, that forms the character of
tragedy. Befides, the over-ftrained tragic be
comes frigid, and one is more inclined to laugh
at a poet, who expects to fall into the pathetic
by dint of effufion of blood, than to fhed tears at
his piece. Some waggifh fellows would be apt
to fend to know the lift of his flain.
I Boileau Art. Poet, chant. 4. But

Poetry and Painting. 85
But to carry on the comparifon of dramatic poe
try with painting, we fhall find that the latter has
the advantage of exhibiting to our fight fuch
incidents of the action it treats of, as are pro-
pereft for making a great impreffion. It can let
us fee Brutus and Caffius plunging their poniards
into the heart of Casfar ; and the prieft ftabbing
his knife into the bofom of Iphigenia. The tragic
poet durft no more prefent us with thefe objects
on the ftage, than with the metamorphofis of Cad
mus into a ferpent, or of Progne into a fwallow,
Thefe are the objects that Horace means where
he fays,
 — —  • Non tamen intus
Digna geri promes in fcenam, multaque folks
Ex oculis, qua mox narret facundia prafens.
Horat. de Arte.
Yet do not every part too freely Jhew,
Some bear the telling better than the view.
Creech.
even if the laws of tragedy, founded on very
folid reafons, had not forbidden the producing
of the abovementioned fcenes on the ftage •, yet
a prudent poet ought to have carefully avoided
them. As the events contained in thofe fcenes
can never be acted with any decency or refem-?
blance of truth, they degenerate into a childifh
and frigid fpectacle. Our eyes are not fo eafy to
be impofed on as our ears ; for which reafon fome
forts of fictions fucceed better in a narrative, than
in a reprefentation. An event, which might be very
G 3 ' affecting,

86 Critical Reflections on
affecting, were it told us with an ingenious choice
of w'ell-difplayed circumftances, and obferving the
rules of probability, would become a kind of
puppet-fhew, were a'l thefe circumftances to- be
reprefentec^ on the ftage. In fact, the metamor-
phofes exhibited on the ftage in the French and
Italian operas, generally extort laughter from the
fpectators, tho' the events be of a tragic na
ture. For which reafon, a writer of tragedy is
obliged to have recourfe to a recital, in order to ex-
pofe fuch events as are here in queftion. Now the
recital of an actor, is no more than a fecond copy,
and the imitation, in a manner, of an imitation.
Tho' the action expofed to us, as it were, in
a recital, be very affecting of its nature, yet it
will have lefs effect upon us than another action
lefs tragical, which is exhibited to our fight in a
dramatic reprefentation. The firft fcene betwixt
Roderigue and Chimene, moves us more than the
narrative, which Chimene makes to the king upon
the death of her father, tho* this narrative is made
by a perfonage fo much interefted in the event,
Neverthelefs the death of the count is a much
dreadfuller event, and confequently more car
pable of affefting us, than the converfation of
Chimene and Roderigue, be it ever fo inte
refting. Thofe fubjects, whofe beauty confifts princi
pally in the elevation of mind difplayed by the
actors, in the noblenefs of their fentiments, as al
fo in circumftances that muft both violently and
continually agitate the perfonages tha^are intereft- ?dj

Poetry and Paintins. 8*?
ed, and, of courfe, give rife to various bright
fentiments, and lively difcourfes ; thofe fub
jects, I fay, are the happieft and nobleft for
a tragic poet. In treating of thefe, he can keep
us always attentive, and even let us fee all the
principal events of his action, without being
reduced to call in any recitals to his affiftance.
This difcernment of fubjects is of very great im
portance ; wherefore painters, as well , as poets,
fhould be attentive to the advice pf Horace. in
the following lines addreffed to the latter,
Sumite materiam veftris, qui'fcribitis, aquam
Viribus. HoR.de Arte.
You writers, try the vigour of your mufe, -»
And what her ftrength will bear, and what refufex C
And after that, an equal fubject chufe, \
Creech.

Whether you have a mind to draw a picture, or
to write a poem, be as careful to pitch upon a
fubject adapted to your pencil, if you are a
painter, or to your peri, if a poet ; as to chufe
it agreable to the ftrength of your particular
genius, and proportioned to your perianal ta
lents." We fhall treat hereafter more at large
of the latter kind of choice Let us return now
fuch fubjects as are particularly proper to be treated
pf, either in a poem or a picture,
A poet that treats of an unknown fubject, can,
generally fpeaking, make his perfonages known in
fhe very firft a.ct $ he can even, as we have alrea^.
dy obferved,; render them interefting to the fpec-
G 4 KQ°K*.

88 CrI tic al Reflections on
tator. On the contrary, the painter who is der
ftitute of thefe means, ought never to attempt
treating of an obfcure fubject ; nor ought he
to have any other perfonages, but fuch as are
known by fame to every body •, or, at leaft, to
the fpectators of his piece. Thefe, indeed, ought
abfolutely to have fofne knowledge of his perfon
ages, fince the painter's bufinefs confifts only in
putting you in mind of them. We have made
mention already of the indifference of fpectators
for a picture, whofe fubject they are unacquainted
with. A painter therefore ought to be very careful
in this point at all times, but more efpecially when
jie is concerned in eafel-pieces, whofe lot it is to
change frequently fituation and mafters. The fub-
jedt of a frefco painted on the walls, or that of
large pieces which remain always in the fame place,
tho' it be not known at prefent, may afterwards
become fp. 'Tis an eafy matter to guefs, that an
altar-piece in a chape} reprefents fome event of the
life of that faint, under whofe name it was dedi
cated. • In fhort, that very fame, which publifhes
the merit of thofe performances, acquaints people
at the fame time : with the hiftory, which the
painter has adopted for his fubject.
There are fome fubjects that are generally known,
and others that are not well known but in parti
cular countries.
The fubjects moft generally known in Europe,
are thofe that are drawn'from fcripture. For which
reafon Raphael and Pouffin have given thefe fub
jects

Poetry and Painting. 89
jects the preference, efpecially when they engaged
in eafel-pictures. Among Pouffin's pieces there
are three out of four, that reprefent fome action
taken from the bible. The principal events pf the
Greek and Roman hiftory, as alfo the fabulous ad
ventures of the feveral gods adored by thofe na^
rions, are likewife fubjects that are generally known.
The received cufjpm of all the polite nations of
Europe requires now, that the moft ferious hours
of children be employed in the ftudy of Greek
and Roman authors. In an application of this na
ture their heads are filled with the fables and hi-
ftories of thofe countries, aod what is learnt in
their infancy does not afterwards fo eafily efcape
their memory.
We cannot fay the fame of modern hiftory,
whether ecclefiaftic or profane. Every country has
its own faints, its own kings, and its illuftrious
perfonages, which, tho' they be extremely well
known in that particular fpot of ground, are
not fo eafily diftinguifhed in other countries. St.
Petronius, in an epifcopaf habit, holding in his
hand the city of Bologna, diftinguifhable by its
principal buildings and towers, is not a figure fo
generally known in France, as it is in Lombardy,
St. Martin cutting his cloak in twq, a ppfture
.wherein he is commonly drawn by painters and
fculptors, is not, on the contrary, a figure fo well
known in Italy as in France^
The French are generally acquainted with the
hiftory of their own country during the two laft cen
turies. They have a common idea of the air and
drefs

oo Cri-tical Reflections on
drefs of the moft diftinguifhed perfonages of this
period. Yet a head of Henry the IVth would not
render the fuhjeet of a picture fo eafy to be conjec
tured in Italy, as in France. Each country has even
its particular fables and its imaginary heroes.
The heroes of Taffo and Ariofto are not fo well
known in France, as they are in Italy. Thofe of the
Aftrea are better known to the French than to the
Italians. I know of none but Don Quixot, a hero
of a particular genius, whofe proweffes are as well
known amongft ftrangers, as among the country
men of the ingenious Spaniard, who firft gave him
exiftence. Horace is defervedly efteemed the moft judi
cious author that has left any inftructions for
poets : Notwithftanding the advantages the latter
have in rendering their perfonages known, and in
acquainting the reader with the particulars of their
fubject, yet he thinks proper to give them the
following advice :
Rettius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,
Quam ft prof err es ignota indict aque primus.
Hor. de arte.
Rather on fubjects known your mind employ,
And take from Homer fome old tales of Troy,
And bring thofe ufual things again to view,
Than venture on a fubject wholly new.
Creech.
*' It would be much more advifeablc for you, to
" chufe the fubject of your piece from fome of the
^ events of the fiege of Troy, tho' fo often ex-
4 *c hibited

Poetry and Paint i no. 91
" hibited on the ftage, than to form the action of
M your tragedy out of your own imagination, or
*' to raife heroes unknown to the world, from the
" duft of fome obfcure old book, and to adopt
" them for your perfonages." What would not
Horace have faid on this fubject, had his difcourfe
been addreffed to painters ?

CHAP. XIV.
That there are fubjects particularly adapted to
certain kinds of poetry and painting. Of the
proper fubjects of tragedy.
HITHERTO we have fhewn, that there
are fome fubjects more proper for poetry
than painting, or for painting than poetry ; we
intend now to prove,, that there are likewife fub
jects, which are more adapted even to fome parti
cular kinds of poetry and painting than to others.
The facrifice of Iphigenia, for example, is fit
only for a picture, wherein the painter can give his
figures a certain magnitude. A. fubject of that
nature will not bear reprefenting with fmall figures,
fuch as are deftined for the imbellifhment of a
landfkip. A grotefque fubject will not admit of
figures drawn to the life. Figures drawn larger
than to the life, would be improper for the re
prefentation of Venus' s toilet. It would be to no
purpofe to afk me the phyfical reafons of thefe
fitneffes or agreements ; I can alledge none but the

92 Critical Reflections on
the inftinct which fuggefts them to us, and the ex
ample of the great painters that have obferved
them. The fame remark is applicable to poetry. Events
of a tragic nature are improper to be treated in an
epigram. An epigram may, at the moft, heighten
and give a proper luftre to fome remarkable cir-
cumftance of thefe events ; it may induce us to
admire a particular touch, but cannot render it
interefting to. us. We can fcarce find five or
fix good ones in either the ancient or modern
collections upon fubjects of this nature. Comedy
will not admit of barbarous or inhuman actions,
nor can Thalia ufe the imprecations, or inflict
the punifhmtnts, that are due to the moft fhock-
jng crimes. An eclogue is unfit for violent and
fanguinary paffions.
I fhall make here a few reflections on the
actions proper for tragedy, which may perhaps
prevent thofe, who will read them attentively,
from beihg miftakeh in the choice of tragic fubr
jects. As the principal end of tragedy is to excite terror
and compaffion, the tragic poet ought therefore, in
the firft place, to exhibit amiable and valuable pen-
fonages, and reprefent them afterwards reduced to a
very deplorable condition. We fhould commence
with rendering thofe perfonages defervingof efteem,
to whom we intend to conciliate the public com
paffion. 'Tis therefore proper that the perfon
ages of a tragedy fhould not deferve to be un- v
happy, or, at leaft, not fp unhappy as they are re-
prefented,

Poetry ^Painting. 93
prefented. If their difafters are not merely the
effect of the frowns of fortune, but a ehaftifement
for their faults, their demerit ought to be une
qual to fo heavy a puniffiment. At leaft, if
their faults happen to be of a real criminal na
ture, they ought not to include the guilt of a
voluntary commiffion. OSdipus would be unfit
to be the principal perfonage of a tragedy, had he
known at the time of combat, that he had drawn
his fword againft his own father. The misfortunes
of the wicked are not a proper fubject to move us ;
they are a juft punifhmentj the imitation where
of is incapable of exciting either terror or real
compaffion. A terrible event is fuch as furptizes and terri
fies us together. Now there is nothing lefs fur-
prizing than the .ehaftifement of a man, who has
merited the vengeance of heaven and earth for
his iniquities. On the contrary, the impunity of
great criminals would be a fubject of furprize to
us ; confequently the punifhment of fuch men
cannot produce that terror and " fear, which is
an enemy to prefumptiort, and gives us a diffi
dence of ourfelves. The punifhment inflicted
on great crimes does not feem to affect us. We
are fufficiently fortified againft the terror of
committing the like offences, by the horror
with which they infpire us. We may be afraid
of the fame feverity of fate, as that which hap
pened to Pyrrhus in Racine's Andromache, but
hardly of committing crimes of as black a nature
as thofe of Narciffus in Britannicus. A criminal that

54 Critical Reflections 6h
that undergoes the punifhment due to his crimed
does not excite our compaffion in a poem. Were
we to fee his real punifhment, we might indeed
feel a mechanic compaffion : but as the emotion
produced by the imitation is not fo powerful as
that, which is excited by the object ; the idea
of the crimes committed by a tragic perfonage
obftructs our being moved with the like compaf
fion for him. There is nothing happens in the
cataftrophe, which we have not often wifhed for
in the courfe of the piece -, and then we applaud
the wife difpofitions of providence, which jufti-
fies at length its flownefs in proceeding to pu
nifhment. Every one muft be fenfible that we mean in
poetry by a criminal, a man that willingly violates
the precepts of the law of nature, unlefs he hap^
pens to be excufed by fome particular law of his
country. The refpect for the laws of that fociety*
whereof a perfon is a member, is fo great a virtue,
that it is fufficient to excufe on the ftage an er
ror, whereby the law of nature is violated. Thus*
When Agamemnon attempts to facrifice his daugh
ter, he violates the law of nature, without -being a.
criminal in poetry ; becaufe he is excufed by his
fubmiffion to the laws and religion of his country,
by which fuch murders were authorifed. Thehco>
ror of the crime muft be charged to the law of his
country. We pity the mifery of the people of
thofe times, who were incapable of difcermng the
law of nature amidft the clouds, wherewith falfe
religion had enveloped it* The fame may be faid
wieh

Poetry and Pa i n t t N g. Q|
With refpect to the murderers of Catfar, by reafon
of their having been educated in this maxim, that
Violent methods were allowable againft a citizen,
who attempted to bring his equals into fubjection,
or who, to make ufe of the Roman phrafe, affect
ed tyranny.
But a Roman, cotemporary with Casfar, that
would attempt to facrifice his own daughter, would
be reckoned a villain, for violating a facfed precept
of the law of nature, without having the excufe pf
the laws of his country to plead by ; for the Ro
mans had, long before that, prohibited the facri-
ficing of human victims, and even obliged the
free nations that lived under their protection, to
obferve this prohibition. An excufable tniftake
can therefore re- inflate, as it were, the perfon
age that commits an act contrary to the law
of nature ; but I am far from giving the firft
motions and tranfports of paffion a power of ex
cusing a great Crime ; no, not even upon the
ftage. He who is hurried away by the firft irn-
pulfe of his paffion to commit a great crime,
is always a villain. Paffion is no excufe for the
voluntary murder of one's Wife, not even by fke
law of poetic morality, the only one here
cdhfidered ; and, of all others, -the moft indul^
gent. Crimes of fo deep a dye are fo repugnant to
hearts not intirely corrupted, that it is not fuffi
cient to have been deprived, in fome meafure, of
bite's prefence and liberty of mind in committing
them ; to avoid being branded as a villain. 'Tis
not by dint of reflection, or fay withftanding the
temptation,

96 Critical Reflections- on
temptation, that a man, who has any remains of vir
tue, avoids committing them ; no, 'tis becaufe he
has no fuch motion in him as can lead him to com
mit the like exceffes ; having an horror by in
ftinct, and, if I may be allowed the' expreffion, a
mechanic averfion to all fuch unnatural actions.
If the firft motion of paffion could impel him to
fuch crimes, the firft motion of virtue fhould be
alfo able to with-hold him. For have not virtues
their firft motions as well as our vicious paffions ?

q H A P. XV.
Of the perfonages of villains, that may hi
introduced into tragedies*
MY intention, however, is not to pro
hibit the introducing of the perfonages
of villains into tragedy. The principal de-
lign of this kind of poem is to excite terror and
compaffion for fome, but not for all its perfonages.
Thus the poet, in order to attain more certainly
his end, may excite in us other paffions, that are
capable of preparing us for being more lively
touched with compaffion and terror* which
ought always to predominate in tragic Scenes,;
The indignation we feel againft Narciffus, pro
duces the compaffion and terror arifing from
the misfortunes of Britannicus. The horror,-
with which we are infpired at the difcourfes of
CEnons*

Poetry WPainting^ 97
CEnone, renders us more fenfible of Phaedra's
Unhappy deftiny. The bad effect of the counfels,
which the poet makes this confidante give conftant
ly to Phsedra, when fhe is upon the point of repent-*'
ing, renders this princefs more deferving of pity,1
and her crimes more fhocking and dreadful. We
fhould be afraid of receiving fuch counfels in the like
conjunctures. 'Tis allowable therefore to intro
duce the perfonages of villains into a poem, in
the fame manner as executioners have a place in
a picture reprefenting a faint's martyrdom :
but as a painter would be cenfured for rendering
thofe men amiable by their looks, whom he draws
perpetrating an odious or flagitious action ; in like
manner a poet would be blamed for dreffing his
villanous perfonages with qualities capable of en
gaging the benevolence of the fpectator. Such a
benevolence might be carried fo far as to render
the villain an object of pity, and to diminifh
the horror of the crime by the compaffion raifed
for the criminal. This would be acting diame
trically oppofite to the principal end of tragedy,
to its defign of purging the paffions.
Care ought alfo to be taken, to prevent the prin
cipal intereft of the piece from falling on flagitious
perfonages. A villain is incapable of interefting us
of himfelf. The fpectator therefore is affected with
his adventures, only inafmuch as thefe adventures
are the incidents of an event, wherein perfonages
of an oppofite character have a confiderable inte
reft. Who is it that gives any great attention to
the death of Narciffus in the play of Britannicus?
Vol. I. H There

98 Critical Reflections on
There are fome forts of villains, that ought
never to appear upon the ftage upon any account
whatfoever •, thefe are your impious ones. I give
here the appellation of impiety to all thofe extra
vagant difcourfes, which thro' a fenfelefs prefump-
tion are raifed againft religion in general, or againft
that which is particularly profeffed in the place
where the fcene is fuppofed to be tranfacted, be it
what it will. Wherefore my opinion is, that one
ought never, for example, to introduce up©n the
the »ftage a Roman making a feoff of the fire of
Vefta, nor A Greek contumelioufly treating the
TJelphic oracle, as an impofture devifed by the
priefts of Apollo. It would be needlefs to ob
serve here, that thofe, who, like Polieuctes, foeak
in oppofition to a religion framed by men, from a
conviction they have of the true one, are not liable
to the cenfure here mentioned of impiety. The
Very terms of my propofition are fufficient to ob
viate the leaft fhadow of that kind of fufpicion.
But fome will object, that Phasdra wilfully tranf-
greffes the moft facred rights of the law of nature.
Thus fhe is in love with her hufband's. fon, fhe
talks to him of her paffion, and ufes all her arti
fice to feduce him ; and to conclude with what
compleats the character of the moft profligate vil-
lany, fhe charges the innocent "with the very crime
file herfelf has committed. And yet the misfor
tunes of Phaedra excite compaffion, when exhibited
in Racine's tragedy. The fame may be alfo faid
of feveral pieces of the ancient tragedians.
My

Poetry 'and Painting.' 99
My ahfwer to this objection is, that Phaedra
does hot commit voluntarily the crimes for which
ihe is punifhed. 'Tis a divine impulfe that forces
her to perfidy and inceft ; an impulfe which, in the
fyftem of paganifrh, is irrefiftible to mortals. Af
ter what paffes between Phsedra and her confidante
in the firft act, relating to the averfion of Venus
to the pofterity of Pafiphae, and to the revenge
ful fpirit of this Goddefs, who determines our un
fortunate princefs to all the harm fhe does, her
crimes have no other criminal appearance, but
that of; being followed with the punifhment.
The deteftation and 'horror falls all upon Ver
mis ; and Phaedra, more unfortunate than fhe de-
ferves, muft be allowed to be a right tragic per
fonage. Speron Speroni, a poet of the feventeenth cen
tury, has wrote an Italian tragedy, intitled Ca-^
nacea % which may pafs at leaft for one, of the
beft tragedies extant in the Italian language. The
declamatory tafte prevails there a great deal lefs,
than in the generality of the tragic pieces of his
countrymen. The fubject of his tragedy is the
unhappy .adventure of Macareus fon of iEolus,
and of Canacea Macareus' s fifter. Venus, to be
revenged for iEolus' s having perfecuted iEneas,
infpires the children of iEolus with a criminal paffion
for one another b, in confequence of which Ca
nacea commits inceft with her brother. The action
, , a Printed at Venice in 1617.
\ Aft, 1. Scene 1.
H 2 pf

ioo Critical Reflections on
of this tragedy drew the cenfure of the great
wits of Italy upon Speroni ; but we think
ourfelves obliged to condemn their delicacy,
upon the perufal of the differtation, which this
author wrote in juftification of the choice of his
fubject. Now as the fate of Phaedra refembles
that of Canacea, whatfoever the Italian poet ai
led ges in his defence, ferves equally to vindicate the
Frenchman, for which reafon I fhall refer the rea
der to the faid differtation.
It would be unneceffary to take notice here,
that in reading a theatrical piece, we muft ad
mit as true, the falfe fuppofitions, which were re
ceived at the time the action happened ; it be
ing evident that we fhould accommodate our
felves to the opinions adopted by the actors.
In order to judge rightly of their conduct, we
ought to enter into their ideas, and think as
they did. Thus, in feeing the tragedy of Phae
dra, we fhould humour the fuppofition which
made the heathen Gods authors and avengers of
crimes, notwithftanding this fuppofition is more
fhocking to good fenfe, than the moft extra
vagant, tale of Ovid's Metamorphofes.

CHAP.

Poetry and Painting, ioi
CHAP. XVI.
Of tragedies that are defective in the choice
of their fubjects.
'' ¦ ^ I S not only neceffary that the charac-
X ter of the principal perfonages be fuch
as can intereft us, but 'tis proper alio that the
accidents which befal them, be fuch as can make a
tragic impreffion upon men of fenfe, and ftrike
terror even into a man of courage. A prince at
the age of forty, reprefented in a ftate of defpair,
and in a difpofition of making away with him
felf, becaufe his glory and intereft oblige him to
part from his confort, with whom he has lived in
a continued fcene of fondnefs during twelve years •,
fuch a prince, I fay^ can never infpire us with
a compaffion for his misfortune. We fhould ne
ver be able to fympathize with him through five
acts. The greateft excefs of paffion, in which
the poet could drefs his hero, and all that he could
make him fay, to convince the fpectators, that he
is inwardly in the moft frightful agitation, would
only contribute to render him more contemptible.
By endeavouring to render the action interefting
to us, the hero would become indifferent. The
knowledge of what paffes every day in the world,
and the experience of our friends, if not our own,
are fufficient to inform us, that a paffion which has
been indulged for the fpace of twelve years, wears
itfelf at length into a fimple habit. A hero, whofe
H 3: glory

102 Critical Reflections on
glory and intereft call upon him to break this habit,
ought not to be fo afflicted therewith, as to be
come a tragic perfonage. He ceafes to have the
dignity requifite for the character of tragedy,
when his affliction proceeds fo far as defpair.
A misfortune of that, nature could not over
come him, had he but a little of that conftancy,
without which he cannot be a man of honor,
much lefs a hero. But glory, fome will fay, tri
umphs at laft -, and Titus, againft whom, we fee,
this remark is levelled, fends home Berenice.
To this I reply, that thofe ftruggles of Titus
are not' becoming his dignity, nor fit to occupy
the tragic ftage during the reprefentation of five
acts. To alledge that virtue fubdues, at length,
his paffion, does not juftify fufficiently the charac
ter of Titus. Such an excufe as that might, at
the moft, juftify the character of a young princefs,
who, during four acts, had expofed this prince's
weaknefs. But tis injuring the reputation which
Titus left behind him ; 'tis running counter to
the laws of probability and the real pathqs, to
drefs him in fo foft and effeminate a character.
The hiftorian, of whom Monfieur Racine has bor
rowed the fubject of his piece, mentions only,
that Titus fent back Berenice, and that they part
ed with regret from one another. ' This author
does not fay, that he abandoned himfelf to all that
excefs of forrow, wherein the above-mentioned
piece continually plunges him. But fuppofing
a Bere'niccm ftatzm ah itrbe dirr.ijit, iwvitus invitam. SuET.in
Tit. Vefp. feft. 7. even

Po e try and Painting. 103
even that the adventure had been related by Sue
tonius with all the circumftances in which Racine
has dreffed it, yet he ought not to have pitched
upon it as a proper fubject for tragedy. The
glory of the fuccefs does not attone for the in
famy of a ftruggle, wherein we ought to have
been immediately victorious. An enemy of an un
equal force gets the advantage of us in fome mea
fure, if he maintains the combat fo as to hold
the victory too long fufpended. In fact, were
ten thoufand Germans to fight for twelve hours
together againft fix thoufand Turks in an open
field, they would be even afhamed of their vic
tory. Thus, notwithftanding Berenice is a very
methodical piece, and extremely well wrote,
yet the public does not relifh it with fo much
pleafure as Phaedra, and Andromache. Ra
cine had made a wrong choice of his fubject ;
or, to tell the truth, he was weak enough to
engage in it at the inftances of a great prin
cefs. Befides, this was a tafk he undertook in the
abfence of that friend, whofe advices had proved
fo often of fervice to him. Boileau has frequent
ly faid, that he would have hindered his friend
from racking himfelf upon a fubject fo improper
for tragedy as that of Berenice, had he been at hand
to diffuade him from promifing to undertake it.
We ought therefore to infpire always fenti
ments. of veneration for perfonages that aredeftin-
ed for commanding our tears. We fhould nevqr
drefs fuch men in bufkins, as are inferior to
feveral of our own acquaintances ; otherwife we
H 4 fhall

104 Critical Reflections on
fhall incur the fame cenfure, as if we had done
what Quintilian a calls, making a child act the
part and character of Hercules.

CHAP. XVII.
Whether it be proper to intermix love in
tragedies.
Y fubject leads me here naturally to the
difcuffing of two queftions. , The firft is,
Whether it be proper to intermix love in trage
dies ? And the fecond, Whether our tragic poets
do not' give this paffion too great a fhare in the
intrigues of their pieces ?
Men, whom we regard as worthy of our
efteem, have a power of interefting us in their
various agitations and misfortunes ; but we
are more particularly affected with the inquie-7
tudes and afflictions of fuch, as refemble us in
their paffions. Thofe difcourfes that remind us
of ourfelves, and entertain us with our own fenti*
ments, have a particular attractive to engage us.
'Tis therefore natural for us to be prejudiced in
favor of imitations, wherein we difcern our
felves reprefented in others -, that is, wherein we
behold perfonages abandoned to fuch paffions,
as we either at prefent feel, or have formerly
been fwayed by.
* Perfonam Henulis et cqthurnos aptare infantibus. Quint.
% Man

Poetry WPainting. 105
Man without paffions is a chimera i but man,
a flave to all paffions, is a being equally chime
rical. The fame conftitution of body that gives
us up in prey to fome, fecures us from others.
Wherefore there are only fome particular paffions
which bear a fpecial relation to us, the defcription
whereof has the privilege and right of command
ing our attention.
Thofe who are not fufceptible of the fame
paffions as ourfelves, do not refemble us fo much
as thofe, that are ; the latter being related to us
by a particular connexion. For inftance, Achil
les, impatient to fet out for the fiege of Troy,
draws every body's attention ; but ftill his fate is
much more interefting, with refpect to a young
fellow, that pants with thirft of military glory ;
than to a man whofe ambition is to attain to the
command of himfelf, in order to become more
deferving of empire over others. The latter will
be more engaged with the character which Cor
neille gives the emperor Auguftus in his tragedy
of Cinna, a character which will have but a very
feeble effect upon the admirer of Achilles.
The picture of a paffion which we have never felt,
or of a fituation wherein we have never been, can
never move us in fo lively a manner as the defcrip
tion of fuch paffions and fituations, as either are,
or have been formerly, our own cafe. In the firft
place, the mind is but flightly touched with the
picture of a paffion whofe fymptoms it is a ftran-
ger to ; it is afraid even of being the dupe of an
unfaithful imitatidn. Now the mind has but an
im-

106 Critical Reflections on
imperfect knpwledge of paffions which the heart
never felt ; all the information we can receive
of others, being infufficient to give us a juft and
precife idea' of the, agitations of a heart, over
which they tyrannize. Secondly, our heart muft
havevery little inclination to fuch paffions, as we
have been infenfible of at twenty-five years of age.
The heart attains to its full ftrength much earlier
than the mind ; and it is almoft impoffible, me-
thinks, for a man of that age not to have felt the
motions of all thofe paffions, which he is fated
to by his conftitution.
How is it poffible for perfons, who are no way
inclinable to a paffion, nor moved with an ob
ject, to be lively touched with its defcription? How
is it poffible for a man, that has no tafte of military
glory, and who looks upon what is commonly
called a great conqueror, only as a madman and
a burthen to mankind ; how is it poffible, I fay,
for him to be deeply affected with the reftlefs
motions of the impetuous Achilles, when he
imagines a confpiracy formed, to prevent him
from going to acquire immortality by the taking
of Troy?
A man, who is infenfible of the charm? and
allurements of gaming, is not a bit moved with
the diftrefs of a perfon who has loft confiderable
fums at play, unlefs he happens to be related to
him by fome of thofe particular interefts, which
make us fhare in all the fentiments of ano
ther perfon, fo as to fympathize with him when he
is afflicted, Without fome motive of that nature, a man

Poetry and Painting, 107
a man who does not like gaming, will only pity
the gamefter for having contracted the dangerous,
habit of expofing the fweetnefs of his temper,
and the calm of life, tp the mercy of dice
and cards. 'Tis amongft fuch as are afflicted with
the like misfortune as ourfelves, that we are led
by inftinct to look out for thofe, that will make
themfelves partners of our pains, and confole us
with their fympathy. Dido conceives immediately
a tender compaffion for iEneas, obliged to fly his
country, becaufe fhe had been obliged herfelf to
fly from hers. She ,had gone thro' the very fame
¦ fcenes of affliction as iEneas, purfuant to what
Virgil makes her fay :
Non ignara mali miferis fuccurrere difco.
Virg. iEn. 1,
Like you, an alien in a land unknown,
I learn to pity woes fo like my own.
Dryden.
'Tis very common to form a judgment of the
natural motions of the heart in general, by
what we feel ourfelves. Thofe, who have no
propenfity to a particular paffion, are apt to
imagine, that the tranfports wherewith a poet
fills his fcenes, and which he difplays as a natural
cpnfequence of a paffion, that has never made any
impreffion upon them, are not expofed according
to truth. Either the confequences of fuch a paf
fion appear to them as mere fallies of the irregu
lar fancy of an extravagant poet ; or elfe the per
fonages

io8 Critical Reflections on
fohages of the piece ceafe to have the power of
interefting them. They regard them no longer as
men difturbed with paffion, but as perfons fallen
into a ftate of real frenzy and madnefs. Ac
cording to their way of thinking, thefe people
are lefs proper to form a character for the imi
tation of the ftage, than to be confined to fome
of thofe houfes, wherein polite nations fhut up
fuch, as are difordered in their intellects.
The frantic tranfports of a perfon tyrannized
by ambition, and quite reduced to defpair upon
feeing the rival he flighted moft, elevated to an
eminent poft that had been a long time the object
of his wifhes ; thefe tranfports, I fay, may have
a lively effect upon fuch as are fenfible by their
own experience, that the paffion defcribed by the
poet is , capable of exciting fuch furious mo
tions in human breafts. But all thefe agitations,
which fome writers call the fever of ambition, af
fect but weakly thofe, whom their natural tran
quillity has permitted to nourifh their minds
with philofophieal reflections -, and who are fuffi
ciently convinced that the diftributers of pofts
and employments, are frequently prevailed upon,
in all ages and countries, by unjuft or frivo
lous motives. Their knowledge of paft tranf-
actions, and their infight into futurity, prevents
their being furprized at what they fee at pre
fent. Not moved, not even flirprized at the
moft extravagant preferments, they are very little
difpofed to fympathize with a perfon, whom the
promption of. a rival has bereft of his underftand-

Poetry and Painting. 109
ing. To what purpofe is it, they will fay, to
fall into defpair for a difappointment that is as
common amongft men as a feverifh diforder ?
Curentur dubii medicis majoribus agri,
Tu venam vel difcipulo committe Philippi.
Juven. Sat. 13.
A defperate wound muft fkilful hands employ,
But thine is curable by Philip's boy. Creech.
There is no occafion for a ftock of philofophy
to fupport fuch a misfortune as this with refolu
tion. 'Tis fufficient for that end to be only ma
fter of common fenfe.
Poets therefore cannot be blamed for chufing
for the fubject of their imitations the effects of
thofe paffions, of which men are moft generally
fufceptible. Now, of all paffions, love is the moft
general ; there being fcarce any body, but what
has had the misfortune of feeling thib effects of it
in fome part of his life. This is fufficient to engage
a perfon to fympathize with fiich as groan under
its tyrannical fway.
Our poets therefore could not, methinks, incur
any cenfure for giving love a place in the intrigues
of their pieces, were it done with moderation.
But they have puflied their complaifance too far
for the tafte of their own times ; or, to exprefs
it better, they have even encouraged this tafte
themfelves by a fervile condefcenfion. By im
proving one upon another, they have converted the

Ho CRtTicAL Reflections on
the tragic ftage into a. drawing room. Racine has
fluffed his pieces more with love than Corneille ;
and moft of thofe that fucceeded Racine, finding
it eafier to imitate him in his defects than in his
perfections, have gone on in the fame bad road,
even further tfikrt that celebrated poet.

CHAP. XVIII.
That our neighbours object againft our poets
for intermixing too much love in their
tragedies*
AS the tafte of fetting the fprings of tra
gedy a going by the impreffions of love
was unknown to the ancients ; as it is not
even founded on truth, and almoft continu
ally ftrains the rules of probability; perhaps it
will ceafe to be the tafte of our pofterity. Our
fucceffors therefore will have a right to find fault
with the abufe, which our tragic poets have made
of their wit ; a right to cenfure them for the cha
racter they have given of Tircis and Philene,
and for having made love the fpring of all the
actions of fo many illuftrious perfonages ; who
lived at a time, when the prevailing idea of
the character of a great man, admitted of no
mixture of the like infirmities. They will con
demn our poets, for having made an amorous
intrigue the caufe of all the difturbances that
happened

Poetry and Painting.' hi
. 1 ' r #
happened at Rome, when a confpiracy was form
ed" for the recalling of the Tarquins ; and- for
having reprefented the Roman youth of thofe days
fo polite, and even fo timorous before their mif-
treffes •, that youth whofe oppofite character is fuf
ficiently known, from the recital made by Livy,
of the adventure of Lucretia.
A celebrated poet of a neighbouring and rival
nation, has been pleafed to drop, infundry parts
of his works, feveraf unkind reflections on our
French tragedians. This writer pretends, that the
itch of throwing love into all the intrigues of our
tragedies, and into almoft all the characters of
the perfonages, has led our poets into feveral mi-
ftakes. One of the leaft confiderable confifts in
drawing frequently a falfe picture pf love. Love
is far 'from being a gay paffion. True love, the
only one that is deferving of making its ap
pearance on the tragic ftage, is almoft always
chagrin, melancholy, and ill-humoured. Now,
fays our Englifh writer, fuch a character as this
would foon be difagreable, were the French poets
to give it frequently to their lovers. The French
ladies, who require a particular tribute pf com-
plaifance, would not think fuch heroes fufficiently
agreable. Real love expofes frequently even the
moft ferious perfonages, to' ridicule. . In fact,
the pit laughs almoft as heartily as at a come
dy, at the reprefentation of the laft fcene of
the fecond act of Andromache, where RaT
cine draws a very natural picture of the folly
and

ii2 Critical Reflections on
and tranfports of real love, in the feveral dif*
courfes between Pyrrhus and his friend Phoenix.
The Englifh author continues his remarks, and
pretends that our poets, in order to introduce
love every-where, have gPt a habit of giving the
appellation of love and paffion to the general in
clination of one fex for the other, determined in
favor of a particular perfon by fome fentiments
of efteem and preference. Thus they have
given the honor of the bufkin to a mechanic in
clination, wnich is far from having any thing tra
gical in its nature, or of being capable of ba
lancing the other paffions. Some even have not
blufhed to give the name' of real loVe to a paffion
which receives its origin only during the reprefen
tation of the piece ; tho' it be contrary to all pro
bability, that an infant emotion fhould grow up
in one day to the very height and extremity of
paffion. When love is to act any character of
importance, it ought at leaft to be of fome
ftanding -, it ought to have had leifure to take
root in the heart ; and even to have been fed with
fome hopes of fuccefs : Tho' we muft acknow
ledge, that the moft reputable of our French
poets do not amufe us with thofe fubitaneous
paffions. This is what renders the wooers of our French
tragedies fo unlike the character of men that are
¦ really in love. One would imagine, that love
were the gayeft of paffions, to hear all the pretty
conceits, with which thefe lovers entertain their be
loved objects. Their whole difcourfe is imbellifhed with

Poetry and Pa i sting." 113
With thofe ingenious touches, thofe brilliant me
taphors, and, in fine, with all thofe florid expref-
fions, that can rife only in a free imagination.
One hears them continually applauding the irons
they are fettered with) and wifhing that their chains
may prove eternal •, an evident argument they do
not feel the weight of them. Inftead of looking
upon their paffion as one of the moft humbling in
firmities, they confider it as a glorious virtue, and
pleafe themfelves with that notion. But what is fuf
ficient alone to evince, that they are not really in
love, is their pretending to make love agree with
reafon, two things as incompatible as reafon and
a burning fever.

'0

Qua res

Nee modum habet neque conftlium, rat tone modoqut
Tract ari non vult. In amore hac funt mala, bellum*
Pax rurfum. Hac ft tempeftatis prope ritu
Mobilia et c<ecd fluitantia forte, labor et
Redder e cert a, fibi nihilo plus explicet acft
Infanire paret cert a ratione modoque.
Horat. fat. 3. \. 2»
Sir, reafon muft be never us'd in love :
It's laws unequal, and it's rules unfit, ^j
For love's a thing by nature oppofite ^ >
To common reafon, common fenfe and wit, j J
All that's in love's unfteady, empty, vain,
There's war and peace, and peace and war again*
Now he thatftrives to fettle fuch as thefe,
Mere things of chance, and faithlefs as the feat,
Vol. t I $*

H4 Critical Reflections on
He were as good deftgn to be a fool
By art and wifdom, and be mad by rule.
Creech.
" Lovers, fays Horace, act quite inconfiftently.
" They quarrel without any provocation, and are
" reconciled without reafon. The ideas of lovers
" have no fort of connexion. The courfe of their
" thoughts is as irregular as that of thofe waves,
" which are capricioufly toft at the pleafure of the
" winds during the raging of a tempeft. To at-
" tempt to fubject thefe thoughts to fixt principles,
" or to pretend to range them in any methodical
" order, is the fame as if one fhould infill upon a
" frantic perfon's having a continued thread of
" fentiments in the midft of his deliriums." But
the fubftance of things that are fet before fome na
tions is of very little fignification, provided they be
toft up in the form of a ragoo.
Another inconveniency, adds the fame Englifh
author, which arifes from the abufe of mixing
love every where, confifts in this, that the French
poets make lovers and wooers, after their own fancy,
of princes advanced in years, and of heroes who
in all ages have had a reputation of fteadinefs ;
a very different character from that, wherein our
poets reprefent them. Thefe poor disfigured heroes
will probably appear to the pofterity of their prefent
admirers, as perfonages that have been induftrioufly
"dawbed over, only to be rendered more ridiculous.
They will confider as a burlefque kind of poetry,
which formerly obtained in France, thofe pieces
3 wherein

PcE try and Paint in g. 115
wherein Brutus, Arminius, and other perfonages il-
luftrious for the inflexibility of their courage, nay,
even for their ferocity, are reprefented as foft and
dying lovers. They will be apt to rank thofe
poems in the fame clafs with Virgil travelled. This
muft be fooner or later the fate of thofe poets, who
will not fubmit to copy nature in their imitations, who
never trouble their heads whether their perfonages
have any refemblance with other men, and are fa-
tisfied with their only having fomewhat of an a-
greable air. This is quite forgetting the fage lef-
fon which Boileau gives in the third Canto of his
Art of Poetry, where he moft judicioufly decides,
that we ought always to preferve the national
character of the perfonages.
Gardez done de donner, ainfi que dans Clelie,
U air et I'efprit Franfois a I' antique Italie,
Et fous des noms Romains faifant notre portrait,
Peindre Caton galand, & Brutus darner et.
And ftrive to ftsun their fault who vainly drefs
An antique hero like fome modern afs ;
Who make old Romans like our Engliflo move,
Show Cato fparkifh, or make Brutus love.
The fame Englifh author pretends, that the
ancient chivalry has left fn the minds of fome
nations a tafte, that makes them fond of dif-
covering every where a kind of love with
out paffion, which is what they call gallantry ; a
fort of politenefs which thofe ingenious and civi
lized nations the Greeks and Rpjfnans were utter
ftrangers to. This gallantry, he fays, which the
I 2 French,

ii6 Critical Reflections on
French (who feldom mind fearching into the bot
tom of things), have never rightly defined, is an
affectation of expreffing by the politenefs of one's
behaviour to the ladies, fentiments of a feigned
love, which flatters and amufes them. According
to our author, the French nation has too great a
propenfity to affectation ; and when fhe began to
throw off her rufticity, without having yet attain
ed a true politenefs, fhe was defirous of making
a greater fhew of genteelnefs than fhe was really
poffeffed of. With too much good fenfe to be
ftill infected with barbarifm, and not fufficiently
refined to be acquainted with the dignity of the
manners, fhe fancied to herfelf fome merit in love,
which fenfible nations are ftrangers to. She ima
gined therefore that there was a kind of virtue
in a fervile dependance on the will, or, to fpeak
more truly, on the caprices of fome damfel, in
making her the fpring of all one's actions, and in
living merely to ferve her. The carroufels and
tournaments encouraged this kind of folly with
their liveries, their devices, and the reft of their
nonfenfe. In fhort it became at length the mode
to fall in love in a country, where every thing is
decided by mode, even the merit of generals and
preachers. From hence arofe the extrava
gances of fuch a number of wooers, whereof the
greateft part were far from being in love. Some
have had their brains knocked out, in attempt
ing to write the name of their imaginary
flame on the walls of befieged towns; others
were fent out of the worldj in ftriving to break
againft

Poetry and Painting. 117
againft the gates of an enemy's town, their lance in-
riched with the ribbons of fome miftrefs, whom they
either did not love, or loved but indifferently. It
appears from hiftory, that feveral of thefe gentle
men have gone through the fame adventures for
fo noble a fubject, as thofe which happened to Hu-
dibras, when he went rambling about the country,
to reftore every body to ^ their liberties and pro
perties, even the very bears which were forced
to dance about in the fairs and bear-gardens. A
prince, he fays, gets himfelf killed at a tournament,
by infilling to break another lance in honor of the
ladies. Another runs the rifk a hundred times of
breaking his neck, becaufe he thought it a greater
piece of gallantry to be hoifted by the help of a
rope-ladder into his miftrefs' s apartment, than to
go in at the door. A third defcends into the li
on's den to fetch his miftrefs her glove, which fhe
had thrown there on purpofe to make him go in
fearch of it, thinking to acquire thereby an ima- '
ginary honor at the rifk of a man's life, whofe
infatuation ought rather to have excited her com
paffion. But we have faid enough concerning
thofe filly caprices, which would make the
French and Spaniards, and fome other nations,
appear as fools to the Greeks under the reign of
Alexander, and to the Romans under Auguftus j
could they but come back a little from the other
world. Romances of chivalry and paftoral tales
have alfo encouraged among the French the per
nicious tafte of intermixing love with every
thing. This is the fpring of that imaginary
I 3 love,

I18 Critical Reflections on
love, which appears in the moft part of their writ
ings. Strangers, and efpecially thofe whofe hu
mor determines them to approve of no images or
defcriptions, but fuch as are copied from real na
ture, read thefe paffages without the leaft emotion.
It happens quite otherwife with regard to the
pictures of love that are extant in the writings of
the ancients j they move ftill, and have in all ages
moved, the people of all countries, by reafon that
truth hath the fame effect in all ages and nations.
Thefe pictures find everywhere hearts fenfible of thofe
motions, of which they are fuch ingenuous imita
tions. Thus the love, which the better poets of Greece
interfperfed in their works, had a prodigious effect
upon the Romans, becaufe of the Greeks having
painted this paffion in all its natural colors,
Spirat adhuc amor
Vivuntque commiffi calores
JEolia fidibus puella.
Hor. Od. 9. I. 4.
And Sappho's charming lyre
Preferves her foft defire,
And tunes our ravifh' d fouls to love.
Creech.
fays Horace, fpeaking of the verfes of Sappho.
I refer the reader to the ode of that poetefs which
Boileau rendered into French in his tranflation of
Longinus, for a juft defcription of the fymptoms
of the paffion of love. The pictures of this paf
fion, that are extant in the poems of the Romans,
move us in the fame manner, as thofe, which are a-
mong

Poetry WPainting. 119
mong the poetic writings of the Greeks, affected
formerly the Romans. The lovers, which thefe
two nations have introduced into their works,-
are not cold infipid gallants, but men hurried
away involuntarily by tranfports' that com
mand them, and who make frequent, but inef
fectual efforts, to pluck from their hearts thofe
darts, whofe piercing wounds have thrown them
into defpair. Such is the eclogue of Virgil, which
bears the name of Gallus.

CHAP. XIX.
Of the gallantry that is interfperfed in our
poems.
I Shall prefent here likewife my countrymen
with the remarks of another Englifh writer
on the gallantry of our poets. The relation of
other authors fentiments has fomething in it fo
engaging, as one cannot help being fond of hearing
them ; and on fuch fubjects as are here under our
examination, 'tis neither unfair nor dangerous to
fatisfy the curiofity of fuch, as are any ways
concerned. Monfieur Perrault * had reproached the ancients
with having been ignorant of what we call gfil-
antry, whereof there was not the leaft flourifh in
1 Parallels of the ancients and moderns. Tom. 2.
I 4 any

120 Critical Reflections oh
any of their poets ; whereas the writings of the
French poets, either in verfe or profe, (by the lat
ter are meant romances,) are all ftrewed with this
fort of ornaments. Mr. Wotton, who had ef-
poufed in England the party of the moderns,
and had defended againft my Lord Orrery
the fame caufe as Monfieur Perraujt maintain
ed in France, abandons- his fellow-champion
when he enters this lift. He will not allow our
poets to claim any merit from what, in his opi
nion, is an infipid heap of jargon, and is com
monly called gallantry. This, fays our Englifh
author % is a fentiment whereof there is no vef-
tige in nature, and one of the extravagant affec
tations, which the depraved tafte of the age has
rendered fafhionable. Ovid and Tibullus have
mixed no fuch thing as gallantry in their writ
ings. Shall we fay that they were unacquainted
with the heart of man, and with the tempefts
which the paffion of love hath the power of ex
citing ? The emotion we feel even in the perufal
of their verfes,, is a fufficient argument of na
ture's delivering hprfelf in her own language.
Poets, and writers of romances, continues Mr. Wot
ton, b fuch as D'Urfe, Calprenede, and fuch like,
who in order to make a parade of their wit, repre-
fent their perfonages full of love and gaiety at the
fame time, and make them chatter away fo agre
ably ; recede as far from probability as Varillas
* Wotton's reflections upon ancient and modern learning,
eh. 4.
Jj Ibid. p. 5?,

Poetry and Painting. 121
does from truth. Now as truth is the foul of
hiftory, fo probability is the foul of all fiction
and poetry. 'Tis the refemblance of truth that
moves us, and induces us to fet a value upon a
work and its author.
When I mention Mr. Wotton's having defend
ed the fame caufe as Monfieur Perrault, I fhould
add, that Mr. Wotton, in making the knowledge
of the moderns fuperior to that of the ancients, in
moft arts and fciences, grants neverthelefs, that
with refpect to poetry and eloquence the ancients
have far furpaffed the moderns. 'Tis to this
purpofe he explains himfelf in the above-mention
ed chapter. To which he adjoins what follows \
But thefe are qualifications which Monfieur Per
rault extremely wants, who has neither Greek nor
Latin enough to undertake to make a parallel be
tween ancient and modern orators and poets. A
particular inquiry into whofe miftakes would lead
me too far out of the way ; and beftdes the world
would think me very vain, to attempt any thing of
this kind, after what the famous Monfieur Def-
-preaux has done already in his critical reflections on
Longinus : for there he has given fo juft a vindi
cation of thofe great men, whom he fo well knows
how to imitate, that whatfoever I can fay after
him, will appear flat and inftpid.
But to return to our gallantry, one ftroke
enervates frequently the moft pathetic part of a
poem. It fufpends for a while the affectation we
had conceived for the perfonage. Rina|do invo-
? Page 56, luntarily

122 Critical Reflections on
luntarily in love, becaufe he is overpowered by
the enchantments of Armida, gives me a very
fenfible concern for his misfortune. , I am af
fected with his paffion, when he opens the
fcene, by faying to his miftrefs who was. going
only juft for a moment . out of his prefence :
Armida, thou art going to leave me* I and. when,
upon her telling him the important, motive, that
obliges her to quit him for fo fhort a time, he
makes her no other reply, but, Armida, thou art
going to leave me ! Here Rinaldo.has the appearance
of a man intirely abandoned to love,, For love
cannot difcover nor exprefs itfelf better than by
this repetition. 'Tis a mark of the intemperance
of his paffion to be deaf to the reafons that are
produced to him. But fhortly after Rinaldo be
comes a finical and affected lover, when, upon his
miftrefs' s faying, Behold in what place I leave you ;
he anfwers her with this fulfome compliment, Can
I behold any thing but thy charms ?
'Tis in the quality of an hiftorian that I relate
here what our neighbours fay of us. If I frequent
the company of ftrangers in order to get acquaint
ed with their fentiments, it does not follow that
I renounce, by fo doing, the received fentiments of
my own country. I can fay, like Seneca,, a that
I frequently pajs over into the enemy's camp, but as
a fpy, not as a deferter. 'Tis the bufinefs of
our poets to examine how far they ought to
* Opera of Armida. A£t i . feen. i .
b Soleofepe in aliena caftra tranfire, non tanquam transfuga,
fed tanquam explorator. Senec. ep. 2. pay

Poetry aWPainting. 123
pay a deference to the criticifm of our neighbours.
But I fancy I have dwelt long enough upon thefe
two queftions, whether it be proper to admit of
love in tragedies, and whether our poets do not
give it too great a fhare in the intrigue of their
pieces. There remains now only a few words
more for me to mention upon this fubject.

CHAP. XX.
Of fome maxims proper to be obferved in treat
ing of tragic fubjects.
IT is a point of great importance for tragic
poets, to make us admire thofe perfonages,
whofe misfortunes are to coft us tears before the
tragedy can fucceed. Now the foibles of love
disfigure feveral heroic characters, that would have
infpired us with veneration, had they not been de-
bafed by thefe imbecillities.
The fame reafon which ought to oblige poets
not to let love gain too great an empire over their
heroes, fhould engage them alfo to chufe their he
roes at a certain diftance of time from that, which
We ourfelves live in. There is a greater refpect paid
to perfons at a diftance, fays Tacitus3 ; 'tis eafier
to infpire us with veneration for fuch men as are
only known to us by what accounts we have re
ceived of them from hiftory, than for thofe who
have lived in fuch a proximity of time to ours, that
* Major e hnginquo rcverentia. Tacit, even

124 Critical Reflections on
even a recent tradition is capable- of inftructing
us exactly in the particulars of their life. We
know fo many minute circumftances relating to
the foibles of fuch great men, as either we or our
cotemporaries have feen, which put them fo much
upon a level with the common run of mankind,
that it is impoffible for us to have fuch a degree of
veneration and refpect for them, as we are ac-
cuftomed to pay to the great men of Rome and
Athens. We are more inclinable, fays Paterculus,
to commend things we have heard of, than fuch as
we have feen ourfelves \ This maxim is ftill truer,
when applied to men, than when fpeaking of the
works of art, or of the marvels of nature.
There is no man that defer ves our admiration, un-
lefs he be viewed at a certain diftance. As foon as
we can come up clofe enough to men, fb as to dif-
cern their little vanities and petty jealoufies, and to
diftinguifh the inequalities of their minds, our ad^
miration ceafes. Did we but know the domeftic
hiftory of Casfar and Alexander, in as minute a,
detail as we are acquainted with that of the great
men of our own age, the Greek and Roman
Names would be far from infpiring us with the
fame veneration as they do at prefent. I readily
join iffue with that author, who fays, that the
greateft enemies of the glory of heroes are their
valet de chambres. Heroes have always an ad
vantage in being known only thro' the channel of
hiftorians ; the greateft part of whom are pleafed
tp give us fuch ingenuous ftrokes and little anec*
* Audita vifis laudamus libentius. Pater. 1. 2. dotes4

Poetry and Painting: 125
dotes, as render illuftrious men ftill more worthy
of admiration -, but they are very apt to wave
whatever is capable of producing the contrary effect.
So much for what relates to the generality of hifto-
rians. As for thofe that are inclined to fatire, 'tis true
they make men fometimes more wicked than they
have really been, but they very feldom reprefent men
weaker. An hiftorian may lay a ftrefs on his abilities,
he may even boaft of his probity, in relating the
actions of a Very great villain ; but he debafes
himfelf, and becomes an infipid writer, if he at
tempts to make his actors mean ordinary fel
lows. It may be faid, that the tragic poet can
fupprefs all the little foibles that are capable of
difgracing his heroes. I grant it ; but the auditor
remembers and repeats them, when the hero has
lived in a time fo bordering upon his own, that
common tradition might have informed him of
thofe very infirmities.
Befides, Melpomene likes to adorn her victims
with crowns and fcepters ; and the fovereign houfes
in our times are fo connected one with another by
intermarriages, that it would be impoffible to ex
hibit at prefent upon the tragic ftage, a prince
that had reigned within a hundred years in any
neighbouring kingdom, in whom the fovereign of
the country where the piece was to be acted,
would not find himfelf interefted as a relation.
The inconveniency hereof is obvious of itfelf. I
approve therefore of the contrivance of thofe au
thors, who, when they have chofen for their fub
ject any event, that has happened in Europe within the

126 Critical Reflections on
the courfe of a century, have difguifed their per
fonages by the names of ancient Romans, or of
Greek princes, whom no body is any longer re
lated to. 'Tis impoffible to exhibit on the ftage,
all that an hiftorian can commit to writing. , The
ftage is, as it were, a book that is defigned for
the public perufal ; wherefore the rules of de
corum ought to be obferved, and all other regards
to be confidered in fuch pieces as are acted in pub
lic, with a much ftricter feverity than in the
graveft hiftory. When Monfieur Campiftron at
tempted to bring on the ftage the tragic adven
ture of Don Carlos, eldeft fon to Philip II. King
of Spain, he treated his fubject by the name of An-
dronicus : But notwithftanding his having changed
the names of his perfonages, the reprefentation of
this piece was a long time forbidden in the Spanifh
Netherlands. I am not ignorant, that the Greek poets
had no fuch delicacy. They have introduced
¦ upon the ftage fovereigns lately deceafed, and
fometimes even princes that were living. But
thefe poets had been educated in the republican
fpirit of Athens, whofe aim it was always to ren
der monarchy odious. The way to fucceed therein,
was to reprefent kings and princes of a very vici
ous character upon their ftage, whereof the en
tertainments muft have naturally had a greater ef
fect upon the fenfibility of the Greeks, than
they can have influence on the imaginations of
northern nations. Hence the Greek poets have
fometimes disfigured the true character of fove
reigns ;

Po ETRY.tffli Painting. 127
reigns. Hence they have fo frequently introduced
Oreftes upon the ftage as a moft unhappy perfon,
and purfued by the furies -, tho' hiftorians mention
this prince to have lived to a great, age, and to have
had a long and profperous reign over his people a.
There are likewife two of our neighbouring na
tions, who introduce upon the ftage fovereigns
deceafed within a hundred years, or thereabouts.
They exhibit there fuch tragic events as have
happened within the fpace of a century in their
own country. Perhaps this may be owing to their
not having a juft idea of the dignity of a tragic
fcene : perhaps it may proceed alfo from their
having fome touch of the Athenian policy in view.
The Dutch tragedy, the fubject whereof is the
famous fiege of Ley den, which the Spaniards were
obliged to raife in the commencement of the wars
of the Low-Countries'3, and which, purfuant to
the foundation of a citizen of that town, is acted
there conftantly every year, in the fame month as
that event happened ; is fluffed intirely with max
ims and fentences againft kings and their minifters,
fuch as might have prevailed at Rome, after the
expulfion of the Tarquins. Never was there a
Greek tragedian that endeavoured to render fove
reigns fo odious, as my lord Rochefter has at
tempted in his tragedy of Valentinian.
* FaSlum ejus a diis approbatum fpatio vita? £ff felicitate im
perii apparuit, quippe 'vixit cmnis nonaginta, regnavit feptua-
ginta. Paterculus, Lift. 1. i.
k In the year 1574. It

128 Critical Reflections on
It was not certainly from any motive of this
nature, that we ourfelves brought upon our yet
infant ftage our reigning fovereigns. The French
are celebrated all over the world, for having a
natural refpect for their princes •, nay, which is ftill
more, for loving them : wherefore it is eafy to
judge, by the character of thofe pieces, where the
French poets have exhibited their reigning fove^
reigns, that their tranfgreffion proceeded merely
from groffnefs and ignorance A few months af
ter the death of Henry IV. there was a tragedy
acted at Paris, the fubject whereof was the unhap
py death of that prince. Lewis XIII, who reigned
at that time, was reprefented as a perfonage of the
piece, and from his own box he could fee himfelf
acted on the ftage, where the poet made him fay^
that ftudy was capable of killing him ; that a book
was apt to give him the head-ach ; and that there
was no other cure for him but the found of a
drum 5 and feveral other pretty conceits of that
kind, worthy of a fon of Alaricus or Athalaricus.
But reafon and reflection have rendered us fince that
time, the niceft and difficulteft nation in Europe,
with refpect to the decorums of the theatre. Our
poets cannot be miftaken with impunity in our
days, in the choice of the time and place of their
pieces. Racine maintains, in his preface to Bajazet,
whofe tragic death was a recent event when
he brought it upon the ftage, that the remote-
nefs of the place where the event has happen
ed, can fupply the diftance of time j and that
we

Poetry and Painting. 129'
We fcarce make any difference between what has
happened a thoufand years ago, and what has
been done at a thoufand leagues diftance. But I
canhot clofe with his opinion. There is no dan
ger of feeing a perfon that has lived a thoufand
years ago, but one may eafily meet with people
who have lived in a country a thoufand leagues
off, whofe recitals may prejudice the veneration
with which our poets pretend to infpire us, for
men that are dubbed heroes only by croffing the
fea. , Befides, the prefent intercourfe between
France and Conftantinople is fo considerable, that
we are better acquainted with the cuftoms and
manners of the Turks by the verbal relations
of fuch of our friends as have lived amongft
them, than we are informed of the cuftoms
and manners of the Greeks and Romans by the
narratives of deceafed authors, of whom we
cannot afk the favor of an explication, when
they happen to be too concife or obfcure. Where
fore a tragic poet cannot violate the general no
tion, which the public has of the cuftoms and
manners of foreign nations, without prejudicing
the probability of his piece. Neverthelefs, the
rules of our ftage, and the cuftoms of our tragic
fcenes,' which require that women fhould have
always a great fhare in the plot, and that the
intrigues of love be treated agreably to our own
manners, obftruct our conforming to the cuftoms
and manners of ftrange nations. True it is, that
the defects arifing from this impediment, are
pbferved. only by a fmall number of people, who
Vol. I. K are

130 Critical Reflections on
are learned enough to diftinguifh them ; but it
falls out> that in order to make a fhew of their eru
dition, they frequently exaggerate the importance
of thofe defects ; and there are but too many af
terwards, who take a pleafure in repeating their
Criticifms. I fhall only add one word more to
this obfervation, which is, that except Bajazet,
and the Earl of Effex, all thofe tragedies that
have been written within thefe fourfcore years,
whofe fubject has been taken frpm the hiftory of
the two laft centuries, are quite laid afide, and
theirvery names buried in oblivion.
The definition which Ariftotle gives of come
dy, when he calls it an imitation of the ridicule
of mankind, is fufficient to point out its proper
fubjects. As it inflicts no other punifhment on
vicious perfons but ridicule* the defign of it can
not confequently be to reprefent fuch actions, as
deferve a feverer ehaftifement. None ought to be
arraigned before its tribunal, but fuch only as are
culpable of flight faults with regard to fociety.

CHAP.

Poetry and Painting. 131

CHAP. XXI,
0/ the choice of comic fubjects. Where their
fcenes are to be placed. And of the Rg~
man comedies.
I HAVE produced feveral feafons to evince,
that tragic poets ought to place their fcenes
in times remote from that which we live in. Rea-
fons of an oppofite nature induce me to be of
Opinion, that the fcene of comedy ought to be fixt
in the very places and times, in which it is re
prefented : that the fubject thereof ought to be
taken from ordinary events, and that its perfon
ages ought to refemble, in every refpect, the peo
ple for whom it is written. Comedy has no
occafion to raife its favorite perfonages on pede-
ftals, fince its principal end is not tP make us ad
mire them, in order to render them more eafily
the object of pity : thfe moft it aims at, is to give
us a little uneafinefs for them, arifing from the
croffes they meet with (which ought rather to be
a fort of difappointments than real misfortunes),
in order to give us more fatisfaction at feeing them
happy at the unravelling of the piece. Its defign
is, by making us laugh at the expence of ridicu
lous perfons, to purge us of thofe faults it ex-
pofes, that we may become fitter for fociety. Co
medy therefore cannot render the ridiculoufnefs
Ka of

132 Critical Reflections art
cf its perfonages too vifible to the fpectators,
who whilft they difcover with eafe the ridicule
of others, wUl ftill find it difficult enough to dis
cern the ridicule that is within themfelves.
Now we cannot -diftinguifh nature fo eafily,
when fhe appears in ftrange cuftoms, manners,
and apparel, as when fhe is clad, as it were, after
our own fafhibn. The Spanifh decorum, for ex
ample, being not fo well known to us, as that of
France, we are not fo much fhocked with the ri
dicule of a perfon that acts againft it, as we fhould,
were this perfonage to violate the laws of de
cency that are eftablifhed in our own age and
country^ We fhould not be fo much ftruck as
we are, with the touches that, defcribe the mifer,
were Harpago to exercife his niggardlinefs in a
houfe managed according to the Italian ceco-
nomy. We always diftinguifh human nature in the he
roes of tragedies, whether their fcenes be at Rome
or at Sparta ; by reafon that tragedy is deferiptivc
of great virtues and great vices. Now men of
all countries and ages refemble one another more
in great vices, than they do in ordinary practices
and cuftoms ; in fhort, than in thofe vices and
virtues whofe pictures are drawn in comedy. Xhus
the perfonages of comedy ought tp be cut out, as
it were, after the fafhion of that country, for which
the comedy is written.
It will be objected, that Plautus and Terence
have placed the fcenes of the greateft part of
their pieces in a ftrange country, with refpect to
3 the

Poetry ^Painting. 133
the Romans, for whom they had compofed their
comedies. The plot of their pieces fuppofes the
laws and cuftoms of the Greeks. But if this rea
fon fuffices for an objection againft my fentiment,
it is not however ftrong enough to evince the
contrary of what I have eftablifhed. Befides,
in anfwer to this objection, we need not be afraid
to fay, that Plautus and Terence might have
been miftaken. When they wrote their pieces,
comedy was then in its infancy at Rome ; whilft
the Greeks by that time had furnifhed the ftage
with moft excellent pieces. Plautus and
Terence, who had no patterns in the Roman
language to direct them, fell into a fervile imita
tion of the comedies of Menander, and of fome
other Greek poets .; and thus acted Greek perfon
ages before Roman fpectators. Thofe who tranf-
fplant any art whatever into their own coun
try, generally conform too fervilely to the
foreign practice thereof, and are guilty of the
miftake of imitating at hpme the fame originals
which that art was accuftomed to mimic where
they firft learnt it. But experience foon teaches
us to change the object of imitation. Wherefore
it was not long before the Roman poets found
¦out, that their comedies would be much more
agreable, were the fcenes to be transferred to
Rotne, and the characters of that very people
to be acted, who Were to judge of their per-
¦foahaaces. ; This was done accordingly, and
the comedy compofed after the Roman manners
was divided into feveral fpecies. HQrace,' the
K 3 : moft

134 Critical Reflections on
moft judicious of poets, applauds fuch of his
countrymen, as firft introduced Roman perfon
ages into their comedies, and thus delivered the
Roman ftage from a kind of tyranny exereifed
over it by foreign perfonages.
Nil intentatum noftri liquere poet a,
Nee minimum meruere decus veftigia Grata
Auft defer ere, &? celebrare domeftica facta,
V el qui pratext as, vel qui docuere togatas.
Hor. de art. poet.
Our Latin poets, eager after praife,
Have boldly ventur'd, and deferv'd the bays :
They left thofe paths, where all the Greeks have
gone,
And dar'd tojhew fome actions of their own.
Creech.
The Romans, in fpeaking of their dramatici
poetry, have fometimes confounded the genus"
with the fpecies. I think it incumbent upon me,
to clear up this confufion, in order to render what
I have ftill to fay upon this fubject, more eafy to
be underftood.
The dramatic poetry of the Romans was at firft
divided into three forts, which were afterwards
fubdivided into feveral fpecies : The three forts
were tragedy, fatire, and comedy.

Poe try and Pain ting. 135
The Romans had two fpecies of tragedies.
There were fome whofe manners and perfonages
were intirely Greek, and were called Palliate,
becaufe they made ufe of Greek dreffes in the re
prefenting of them. The tragedies, whofe per
fonages were Roman, had the name of Pratextata,
or Pratexta, from the habit which people of di-
ftinction wore at Rome. Tho' there is only one
tragedy of that fort extant, which is the Ottavia,
that goes under the name of Seneca, yet we know
very well that the Romans had great numbers of
them. Such were the Brutus that expelled the Tar
quins, and the Decius, written by the poet Accius.
The fatire was a kind of paftoral poetry, which
fome authors affert to have held a kind of middle
rank between tragedy and comedy ; which is al
moft all we know of it.
Comedy, in like manner as tragedy, was divid
ed firft. into two fpecies ; the Greek or Palliata,
and the Roman or Togata, by reafon of the
introducing plain citizens into the latter, whofe
drefs was called toga. This we learn from
Diomedes a an ancient author, who wrote du
ring the time that the Roman empire ftill fub-
filled. The Roman comedy was fub-divided in its
turn into four fpecies ; the Togata, prpperly fo call
ed, the Tabernaria, the Atellana, and the Mimus b.
a Togata fabulis dicuntur qu<e fcriptte funt fecundiim ritus
¦.fef habifus baminum togatorum, id eft, Romanorum. Diow. de
Arte Gram. 1. 3. c. 4.
¦» Apud Romanos Pnetextata, Tabernaria, Atellana, Planifes.
Diomeo. ib. cap. 4. K 4 Piece

136 Critical Reflections m
Pieces of the firft fort were very ferious, and
admitted even of perfonages of diftinction, for
which reafon they were fometimes called i pra-
textata. The fecond were comedies of a
lefs ferious nature. They took their name from
taberna, which ftrictly fignified a place of ren
dezvous, proper for affembling perfons of dif
ferent conditions, whofe * characters were played
off in thofe pieces.
The Atellana was a kind of piece very like-
the common Italian comedies ; that is, thofe
whofe dialogues are not written. The actor there
fore of the Atellana performed his part juft as he
pleafed, and flourifhed it as his fancy directed.
Livy,1 in giving the hiftory of the progrefs of the
Roman comedy, fays, that the Roman youth were
not willing that this amufement fhould become
a profeffion,; for which reafon they referved it
for themfelves. Wherefore, adds Livy a, thofe,
who were actors in the Atellana, kept their privilege
of freemen, and might lift as foldiers, the fame
as if they had never appeared on the ftage. Fef-
tus fays, that the fpectators had not a right to
make them unmafk, as they could the other
comedians b, who, 'tis well known, could not
fometimes get off with only unmafking. All thofe
comedians wore, when they acted, a particular
a Eo inftitutum manet, ut aclores Atellanarum nee tribu
mo'veantur, tj ftipendia tanquam expert es art'is ludicree faciant.
kiv. 7.
* Atellani jui babent ft'/eiiam non pontre. Festus. •covering

Po e t r v and Pa i ft t i it a. 157
covering for the feet, which was called foccus.
The cothurnus was a fort of fhoe of boot for
thofe who acted in tragedies.
The Mimus refembled our farces, and the actors
thereof performed always bare-foot. What a num»
ber of fentences, fays Seneca ; % da we meet with
in poets, which are not unbecoming' the gravity of
phikfephers ? Not to mention tragedies, nor the
long-rsbed comedies (whereof the latter, by the five*
rity of their manners, friferve a kind of middle rank
between tragedy and comedy) let us go only to the
Mimi, what a multitude of excellent maxims will oc*
cur to us in Publius Syrus, fitter for the bufkin*,
than for barefooted actors ? This Publius Syrus
was a poet, who wrote mimiG pieces, and was
the rival of Laberius. Macrobius talks very much
concerning their competition, in his Saturnalia*
Diomedes b confirms what I have here advanced
by faying, that the fourth fort is called plant*
pedia, or barefooted comedy, and by the Greeks^
Miffios, becaufe the attors cms upon the fiag*
barefoot, not as the tragic actors with the cothur*
a §>uam mult a pqetts dicunt, qua a pbilofophu aut diBafunt
out dicettda ? Non attingam tragicos aut togatas noftras. Habent
ettim hac quo que illiquid fever ita tis, & ' funt inter tragee-
dias & cematdias media. Qtiantum JifertiJJtmorum -verfuum
inter mimosjatet, quam mult a Publii non excalceath, fed (Sthut-
natis dicendafunt. Sen ec. €p. 8.
* S>uarta fpecies eft planipedia, Grace dicitur mimos, qvbi
aclores planis pedibus profcetiuK infriirent, non ut tragici ailoret
cum cotburnit, neque ut comici cum foccis. Djom. I. 8. c. 7.
I 5. c. 4. nus*

138 Critical Reflections on
nus, or the actors of the other three forts of come
dies with the foccus.
We fee by the adventure which happened at
the funeral of Vefpafian, where Suetonius informs
us, that the character of Vefpafian was acted, pur
fuant to cuftom, in a mimic piece, that fome of
thefe pieces were according to the Roman manners.'
The avarice of this emperor was highly fcanda-
lous, notwithftanding his having frequently cracked
feveral witty jokes upon it himfelf, whereof feve
ral have been handed down to our times a. Every.
body knows, for example, . the piece of wit he
made ufe of in fqueezing fome money out of a
town, that wanted to expend a large fum in
erecting him a ftatue. Gentlemen, faid he to
the deputies, ftretching out the palm of his hand,
here is the bafts, whereon you muft erect your ftatue.
Favor Archimimus (words that exprefs the name and
profeffion of the actor that was to play the part
of Vefpafian) having afked the directors of the
ceremony, how much the expence of his. inter
ment would come to ; and hearing them an-
fwer, that it would amount to fome millions, he
cried out, Gentlemen, let me have a hundred thou
fand crowns, and you may throw my body into the
river. We fhall treat hereafter of the panto
mimes, a kind of dumb comedians 5 but now
let us return to our fubject.
JBioh. 1. 66. Our

Poetry and Painting. 139
' Our lyric and comic poets fell into the fame
error as Plautus and Terence, when our tafte,
improving under Malherbe and his fucceffors, be
came at length too nice to put up any longer
with the old farces. Our comic poets endear
voured then to perfect their parts, as the other poets
had completed theirs. Thefe comic writers deftitute
of models, and perhaps of genius, finding that our
neighbours, the Spaniards, were already provided
with a rich flock of plays, they took it into
their heads to copy the comedies of the Cafti-
lians. Almoft all our comic poets imitated them
down to Moliere ; who, after having ftrayed for
fome time, turned at length into the road, which
Horace has judged to be the only good one. His
latter comedies, except that which he wrote to
counter-act Plautus, are all written in the French
manners. I do not mention here the heroic co
medies of Moliere, becaufe his defign in com
peting them was not fo much to write co
medies, as to draw up dramatic pieces, that might
ferve to connect the diverfions deftined to form
thofe magnificent fpeclacles, with which Lewis
XIV, entertained his court in his younger days ;
the memory of which diverfions is ftill preferved
in foreign countries, as well as that of his con-
quefts. The public, which, as foon as it gets
into the right tafte, does not fo eafily quit it, has
rejected fome time fince all fuch comedies, as are
writterrih the foreign manners. In

j4o Critical Reflections on
In fact, urjlefs -a perfon-; has fome knowledge
qf Spain and its inhabitants (a knowledge which
a poet has no right tp require of his fpectators)
he cannot fee into the nature and deftgn^-pf the
greateft part of the raillery, of thofe pieces. Hoty
many fpectators are there; that do not underftand
a word of the jokes of Don Japhet? for inftance*
that which contains the reproach made by the
Caftilians, who pronounce well and diftinctly, to
the Portuguefe, who pronounce very ill, and eat a
part Of their fyllables : Ce font les guenons qui par-
lent Portugaii. They are apes that talk Por
tuguefe. We have had within thefe fourfcore years, two
different companies of Italian comedians efta
blifhed at Paris, Thefe comedians have been ob
liged to fpeak French, finee it is the language of
thofe that pay them : but as the Italian pieces,
which are not compofed in our own manners,
are incapable of amufing the public, the comedi
ans here mentioned have found it alfo neceffary tQ
act fuch pieces, • as are written in the Frencft
manners. The firft Englifh tranflation of Mo-
liere's comedies was done literally from the ori
ginal., Thofe who englifhed thefe pieces after-
wards^ have accommodated, the French comedy
to the Englifh manners. They have changed the
fcenes and the incidentst whereby they have, ren
dered them more agfeable to that nation* ; This
is what Mr. Wicherly did, when he formed of
Moliere's Mifanthrope, his Plain Dealer^ whom he

Poetry and Painting. 141
fuppofes to be an Engliffiman, and bred to the
fea. Our firft writers of operas have given into the
fame -errors, as pur comic poets^ by making
too fervile a .copy of the Italian opera from
which we firft borrowed this kind of fpectacle.
They never confidered, that the French tafte
having been refined by the tragedies ©f Corneille
and, Racine, as alfo by Moliere's comedies, it
confequently required more probability, regularity,
and dignity in dramatic poems, than is com
monly infilled upon on the other fide of the Alps.
For this reafon we can bear no longer to read
the opera of Gilbertus, or abbot Perin's Po
mona. Thefe pieces, tho' written within thefe
fixty-eight years, appear to us as Gothic poems
competed five or fix generations ago. Quinault*
who wrote for our Lyric theatre after the above-
mentioned authors, had no fooner compofed
two operas only, than he perceived that the per
fonages pf buffoons, which are fo effential to
an Italian opera, were quite unfuijtable to a French
auditory. Thefeus is the laft opera in which Qui-
nault has introduced buffoons, and the care he
took to raife their character, fhews he was then
fenfible, that thefe perfonages were as abfurd in
tragedies made for finging, as in thofe that are
defigned for declamation.
'Tis not fufficient for the author of a comedy
to place his fcenes in the midft pf the people
that are to fee it acted, he ought alfo to take
care that his fubject be adapted to common capa*
cities,

142 Critical Reflections on
cities, fo that every body may, without difficulty^
fee into the intricacy and unravelling of the plot,
and underftand what the perfonages aim at in
their conventions. A comedy that is to dwell
on the detail of a particular profeffion, where
of moft people have but an incompetent
knowledge, would have but a very indifferent
profpect of fuccefs. We have feen a come
dy in our days mifcarry, becaufe a perfon muft
have been fome time at the bar to underftand it.
Thofe farces, whofe conftant fubject is the courfe
of life, which a particular clafs of debauched peo
ple perpetually lead, are as contrary to rule, as
they are to decency and" good manners. There
is but a very fmall number of fpectators, that have
fufficiently frequented the company of the origi
nals, whofe copies are there expofed, foasto be able
xo judge whether the characters and events are
treated with any refemblance of truth. One grows
tired pf bad company on the ftage, as well as in
private life j and we may very well apply to the
authors of fuch pieces, what Boileau faid of Reg-
nier the fatyric writer.

C H A P.

Poetry arid Painting. Y45
CHAP. XXII.
Some remarks on pafioral poetry, and on the
fhepherds of eclogues.
TH E fcenes of Bucolic poems ought always
to be in the country, at leaft they fhould
not be transferred from thence but for a very
fhort time : for the following reafon. 'Tis effen
tial to a Bucolic poem to borrow of meadows,
woods, trees, animals, and, in fhort, of all the
objects that diverfify the country, thofe metaphors,
comparifons, and other figures, of which the ftile
of thefe poems is particularly formed. 'Tis there
fore to be fuppofed, that the perfonages of paf-
toral poetry have thefe objects prefent to their
fight. As the ground- work of this fort of picture
ought always to be a landfkip, therefore vio
lent and fanguinary actions can never be the fub
ject of an eclogue. Perfonages that are tumul-
tuoufly toft by furious and tragic paffions, are fup
pofed to be infenfible of rural charms. It
would be therefore intirely out of character to
fix their attention on fuch objects as prefent
themfelves in the country, fo as to draw from
thence their figurative expreffions. Does a
General, who is going to give the enemy battle,
reflect, whether the ground which he has occu
pied with his body of referve, be proper for build
ing a country -houfe?
I am

144 Critical Reflections on
I am not of opinion, that it is effentially neCe£
fary for the perfonages of an eclogue to be iri
love. Since the Egyptian and Affyrian fhepherds.
were the firft aftronpmers, why fhould not the
eafieft and moft curious parts of aftronomy be a
proper fubject for Bucolic poetry ? We have feen
authors, who have treated this very fubject by
way of eclogue with univerfal applaufe. The
firft book of the Plurality of Worlds, which
has been tranflated into fo many languages, is
the bed eclogue we have been entertained with
thefe fifty years. The defcriptipns and images
drawn by the perfonages are very fuitable to the
character of pafioral poetry, and among thofe
images, there are feveral which Virgil himfelf
would have willingly adopted.
I have obferved, that tragic perfonages intereft
us always by the character of their paffions, and
by the importance of their adventures ; but the,
cafe is quite different, with regard to the adven
tures and perfonages of eclogues. Thefe perfon
ages, who fhould not be expofed to great dan
gers, nor fall into any misfortunes that are real
ly tragical and capable in their nature of deeply
affecting us, ought, in my opinion, to be copied
from what we behold in our own fields. The
fcenes of eclogues, as well as of comedies, fhould
be placed in our own country^ and their fub«
jedt ought to be an imitation of fuch events as
have happened to pur countrymen.
'Tis true, our fhepherds and peafants are fo
very coarfe and clownifh, that it would be im
poffible

POE t RV and PA i N t \ a g. H£,
poffible to copy from them any fit perfonages
for eclogues. But our peafants are not the only
perfons, that can borrow the figures of their dif
courfe from the pleafures of the country. A young
prince, who lofes his way a hunting, and either by
himfelf or with his friend talks of his paffion, and
borrows his images and comparifons from rural
beauties* is an excellent perfonage for an idyllium.
Fiction is fupported by probability, and probabi
lity cannot fubfift in a work in which there are
no other perfonages introduced, but fuch as
whofe character is intirely Oppofite to the natural
original we have conftantly before our eyes.
For which reafon 1 cannot approve of thofe whin
ing fhepherds, who are made to fay fuch a deal
of things fo , marveloufly tender, and fo'fub-
limely infipid in fome of our eclogues. Thefe
pretended fhepherds are neither copied nor imi*
tated from nature j they are a parcel of chimerical
entities, and mere children of' poets brains, who
confult only their own imagination in forging them.
They bear no manner of refemblance with our
ruftic inhabitants, and the fhepherds of our
times. Thefe are unhappy peafants, whofe
fole occupation is to procure themfelves, by the
exercifes of a laborious life, wherewithal to flip-'
ply the preffing neceffities of an ever indigent fa
mily. The roughnefs of the climate, under- which
we live, renders them grofs and ftupid, and the
injuries of this fame climate multiply their wants.
Thus the languifhing fhepherds of cur eclogues
are not copied from nature -t their kind of life,'
Vol. I. L wherein

146 Critical Reflections on
wherein they intermix the moft delicate pleafure^
with their rural cares, and efpecially with the foi-
licitude of feeding their tender flocks, is far fronj
being the life of any of our peafants.
"Tis not with fuch fairies as thefe, that Virgil,
and ,the other poets of antiquity,, have peopled
their delightful landfkips ; they have introdu
ced into their eclogues, the fhepherds and pea
fants of their own country and times, whofe fitua
tion of life was fomewhat fiiperior . to thofe of
latter ages. The fhepherds of thofe days were
free from fuch cares, as confume our poor peafants;
The greateft parr of thofe, who lived out ia
the country, were flaves, whom their mafters
were as diligent to maintain,, as a carrier to
feed his horfe. The eare of providing for the
children of thofe flaves belonged to the mafter,
whofe property they, were : In fhort, thofe fhep
herds had no manner of follicitudefor their fub-
fiftenee, the care of which was intirely committed
to others. Thus being as much concerned about;
the neceffaries of life, as the monks of a rich
abbey, they were poffeffed of that eafe of mind
which was requifite for relifhing thofe pleafures
to which the foftnefs of their climate invited them:
The brifk and ferene air of thofe countries rarefied
their blood,- and gave them a difpofition for mu-
fic,- poetry, and> other refined pleafures. Se*
ve'ral of them were alfo born-' or bred in their
rnafter's houfe in town, who-.feldom begrudged
them, an education, which generally turned out
to his profit ; whether he had a mind to keep them for

Po£Try and Painting^ 147
for his own fervice, or to fell them for flaves.
Even in our days-, tho' the political ftate of thofe
countries does not permit the peafants to live in the
fame eafeas they did formerly ; andtho' they have
not the fame advantage of education ; yet we find
them fufceptible of the impreffions of pleafures, that
are much above the reach of our peafants. The
country fellows of fome parts of Italy not only tend
their flocks, but even go out to the plough with a
guitar on their back. They likewife know how
to fing their amours in extempore verfes, which
they accompany with the found of their inftru-
ments. Thefe they touch, if not with delicacy,
at leaft With exactnefs ; which they call improvi-
fare. Vida, bifhop of Alba, in the. fifteenth
century, a poet famous for the elegancy of
his Latin verfes, gives us a defcription of the
peafants his countrymen and cotemporaries, not
unlike that which Virgil has drawn of the perfon
ages of his eclogues.
Quin etiam agri colas ea fandi not a voluptas
Exercet, dum lata feges, dum trudere gemmas
Incipiunt vites,fttientiaque atheris imbrem
Prat a bibunt, ridenfque fatis turgentibus agri.
Vida Art. Poet. 1. 3.

Ev'n the rough hinds delight in fuch a ftrain,
When the glad harveft waves with golden grain
And thirfty meadows drink the pearly rain
L 2 On

¦}

148 Critical Reflect ions on
On the proud vine her purple gems appear,
The fmiling fields rejoice, and hail the pregnant
year. Pitt.
Tho' our peafants are vaftly heavier than thofe
of Sicily and of fome parts of the kingdom of
Naples ; tho' they have no knowledge, neither of
guitar nor verfe, yet our poets change our fhep
herds into fofter and more artful warblers ; and
form them into perfonages of a more fubtle ten-
demefs and delicacy of paffion, than thofe of Gal-
lus and Virgil. Our whining fhepherds graze up
on love's metaphyfics ; they talk of nothing elfe
but love, and thofe of the leaft refinement amongft
than, fhew themfelves capable of writing a com
mentary on that art, which Ovid profeffed at Rome
under Auguftus. Several of our pafioral fongs,
compofed about fourfcore years ago, when this
kind of tafte obtained its greateft fway, are
fluffed with thefe infipid fooleries. If there be
fome few, that are written in the pure language
of paffion, and whofe authors invoked Apollo on
ly to affift them in their rhyme ; what vaft
numbers are there, that are full of a fophiftical
love, and Void of any refemblance of nature ?
The authors of thofe fongs, by attempting to
feign fentiments, which were not their own, nor
perhaps fit for their years, have metamorphofed
themfelves in their cold fits into imaginary fhep
herds. We feel through all their verfes the frigid
poet, colder than the oldeft eunuch.
CHAP.

Poetry and Painting.
CHAP. XXIII.

¦49

Some remarks on epic poetry. Obfervation
relating to the proper place and time of its
fubject.
AS an epic poem is the moft arduous work
that French poetry can attempt, for the
reafons which we fhall give hereafter when treat
ing of the genius of our language, and of the
meafure of our verfes ; it would be of very great
importance to a poet, that would venture to en
gage in fo great an undertaking, to chufe a fub
ject, wherein the general and particular interefts
are both united. 'Tis in vain for him to flatter
himfelf with hopes of fuccefs, unlefs he enter
tains the French with the famous paffages of their
hiftory, and amufes them with thofe perfonages and
events, wherein they have already, in fome meafure,
a national intereft. But all the memorable paf
fages of the hiftory of France, are not equally in
terefting. We do not feem to concern ourfelves
very much but in facts, whofe memory is yet recent.
The reft feem to affect us only as a foreign hiftory ;
and the more fo, as we have no eftablifhed
cuftom of perpetuating the remembrance of
our happier days to pofterity, by anniverfary
feafts and folemnities, nor of immortalizing the
memory of our heroes, after the manner of the
Greeks and Romans. How very few are there
L 3 amongft

150 Critical Reflections on
amongft us, that concern themfelves much about
the events, which happened under Clouis, and
the firft race of our kings ? In order to hit up
on a fubject capable of engaging deeply our at
tention, one ought not, methinks, to afcend higher
than the reign of Charles the VHth.
True it is, that the fame reafons which we have
alledged to evince, that one ought not to take
too recent an action for the fubject of tragedy,
prove likewife, that fuch an action ought not to be
the fubject of an epic poem. Let the poet there
fore chufe his fubject at a proportionable diftance
of time ; that is, within a period which we have
not yet loft fight of, and yet remote enough
to give a juft dignity and elevation to the cha
racters, without being expofed to be belied by
any recent and vulgar afperfion.
Were we even to grant, that our cuftoms, conv
bats, feafts, ceremonies, and religion, could nog
furnifh a poet with fuch agreable matter, as the fub
ject of the iEneid, ftill it would not follow, that
it were lefs neceffary to borrpw the fubjects pf
Epic poems from our own hiftory. It would be
indeed an inconveniency ; but fuch an inconveni-
ency as would prevent a much greater one ; to
wit, the defect of a particular intereft. But this
is far from being our cafe. The pomp pf a car--
roufel, and the events of a tournament are much
nobler fubjects in themfelves, than the games re
prefented at the tomb of Anchifes, of which Vir
gil has drawn fo magnificent a picture. What
fuperb defcriptions would not this poet have made, of

Po e try and Painting. 151
of the furprizing effects of gun-powder, that
chief fpring pf our prefent military operations ?
The miracles of our religion have a kind of mar
vellous fublime, fiiperior to any thing we meet
with in the fables of paganifm. With what fuccefs
has not Corneille treated them in Polieuftes, and
Racine in his Athalia ? If Sannazarius, Ariofto, and
fome other poets are cenfured for their manner
of handling the Chriftian religion •, 'tis becaufe
they have not fpoken of the fublime fubject
with a fuitable dignity and decorum ; 'tis becaufe
they have blended the fables of paganifm with
the truths of our religion ; in fine, 'tis becaufe,.
as Boileau fays, they have foolifhly idolatrized on
Chriftian fubjects. They are blamed for not having
cottfidered, how unreafonable it is, to fay nothing
worfe, to ufurp the fame liberties in treating of
our religionj as Virgil might have taken, in fpeak
ing of the pagan fuperftition. Let thofe, who will
not confent to make fuch a choice of an epic
fubject, as has been here propofed, give the
true reafon of their refufal : 'tis becaufe they
ftand in need of the affiftance of the poetry of
the ancients, to give a warmth arid fecundity to
their vein ; and therefore they chufe to treat of
fuch fubjects ,as have been handled by the Greek
and Latin poets, rather than any modern fubjects,
where they cannot be fo eafily affifted with the
poetry, flyle, 'and invention of the former. -.PWe
ftiall have occafion to fay fomething more in the
courfe of this work upon this very article.
L 4 CHAP.

%$z Critical Reflections on
C HA P. XXIV.
Qf allegorical actions and perfonages, with
regard to. painting.
OUR fubject leads us here naturally to treat
of allegorical compofitions and perfonages,
whether in poetry pr painting. Let us firft fpeak,
pf allegories in painting.
Allegorical eo.mpofition is pf two forts. Ei-*
ther the painter introduces allegorical perfonages
inw ap hiftorical composition, that is, into the re
prefentation pf an action, which is fuppofed to have
really happened, fuch as the facrifice of Iphigenia ;
and this is called a mixt compofitipn. ; or elfe he
invents an action, known tp have never really hap*
pened, and form? thereof an emblem, to exprefe
fome real event ; and this is called, a eompofition
merely allegorical, . Before we eplarge any further
upon this fubjecT;, let us talk of allegorical per^
fpnages. Allegorical perfonages are fiich as have no real
cxiftence, but have been conceived and brought
forth merely by the imagination of painters, from
whom they have received a name, a body, and
attributes. 'Tis thus that painters have formed
perfonages of virtu.es and vices, kingdoms, pro
vinces, cities, feafons, paffipns, winds and rivers,
prance reprefented in the appearance of a woman j
$he river Tfoer drawn in the figure of a man,
recliinngj

Poetry and Pain tin g. 153
reclining •, and calumny painted in the figure of
a fatyr, are all allegorical perfonages.
Thefe allegorical perfonages are of two forts.
The firft are fuch as are of a long Handing, and
have made, as it were, their fortune in the world.
Their appearance has been fo frequent on fo many
ftages, that every one that has the leaft tincture of
learning, may know them immediately by their
attributes. France, reprefented by a woman with
a crown on her head, a fcepter in her hand, and co-
yered with a blue mantle, feededwith golden flower-
de-luces -, the Tiber, reprefented by the figure of
a man reclining, with a fhe-wolf at his feet
fuckling a couple of children, are allegorical per
fonages of a very long Handing, and known for
fuch all over the world. They have acquired, as
it were, a kind of city freedom among mankind.
The fecond fort of allegorical perfonages, are thofe
that are of a modern date, and fuch as are daily
invented by painters, in order to exprefs their
ideas. They eharaeterife them "after their owrj
fancy, and beftow fuch attributes upon them as
they fuppofe will beft contribute to render them
eafy to be difcerned.
I fhall treat here only of the allegorical per
fonages of the firft fort, that is, of the ancient
ones, or thofe of a long Handing. Their younger
brothers, as it were, which have iffued within thefe
hundred years out 'of the brains of painters, are
ftrangers and vagabonds, which do not fo much as
merit to be mentioned : They are a kind pf cyr
phers, whereof no body has the key •, and very few

154 Critical Reflection? on
few are defirous of having.it. ' It will fuffice to
obferve, with refpect to them, that their inventer
generally makes a bad ufe of his abilities, in fpend-
ing his time in the production of fuch idle beings.
Thofe who are reckoned in our days to have been1
the greateft mafters in painting, are not- fuch as
have given birth to the greateft number of alle
gorical perfonages. True it is, that Raphael has
produced, feme of this fort ; but this fage painter
has employed them only, in the decorations that
ferve for a frame or prop to his pieces in the Sig
nature apartment. He has even had the precau
tion to : write the name of thofe allegorical per
fonages under their figures *. Tho' Raphael was
very capable of rendering them eafy to be known,
yet this precaution appears to have its utility ; and
it were even to he wifhed. that he had carried his
precaution *fo far, as to give us an explication of
the fyrnJpqls,, with which he imbellifhes- them :
For notwithftanding the- ^infcription acquaints us
with their names, ftill one finds it vaftly difficult
to guefs, at the value and merit of the emblemati
cal attributes, wherewith they* are adorned.
Let us return to the ancient allegorical perfon
ages, and fee; what ufe we are allowed to make of
them in hiftorical compofitipns. 'Tis the opinion
pf people of very good fenfe, that allegorical per
fonages ought not to be introduced into thefe pie
ces but with great difcretion ; by reafon that
* Thofe dllegorical figures hahie been ingrawd by Monfieur
Audran. thefe

Poetry and Painting. - 155
thefe compofitions are defigned to reprefent a real
event, drawn juft as it is fuppofed to have actualt
ly happened. They fhould not appear even on
thofe occafions, wherein they are allowed to be
introduced, but as efcutcheons or attributes of
principal and hiftorical perfonages. Thus Har-
pocrates, the god of filence, or Minerva may be
placed near a prince, to denote his difcretion and
prudence. Thefe allegorical perfonages ought
not, methinks, to be principal actors themfelves.
Perfonages known to be imaginary entities, and
incapable of being actuated with paffions like ours,
can never intereft us much in their adventures.
Befides, the refemblance of truth cannot be too
ftrictly obferved in painting, no more than in poetry.
'Tis in proportion to the exactnefs of this feem-
ing truth, that we are more or lefs liable to be
feduced by the imitation. But allegorical perfon
ages employed as actors in an hiftorical compofition,
muft naturally alter its probability. The picture
in the gallery of Luxemburg, reprefenting the
arrival of Mary of Medicis at Verfailles, is an
hiftorical compofition. The painter intended
therefore to reprefent the event agreably to truth.
The queen lands from on board the Tufcan gal-
lies. The lords and ladies, that accompany or
receive her, are eafy to be diftinguifhed. But the
Nereids and Tritons, whom Rubens has reprefented
founding their fhells in the harbour, to exprefs
the joy with which this maritime town received
the new queen, make, to my fancy at leaft, a
very prepofterous appearance. As I am fenfible
2 that

156 Critical Reflections on
that none of thefe marine Deities affifted at the
ceremony ; this fiction deftroys part of the effect,
which the imitation would have produced in my
mind. Rubens ought here, methinks, to have
imbellifhed his harbour with ornaments more re-
cpncileable to probability. Things that are invent
ed, in order to render a fubject more agreable,
fhould always be confiftent with its ex-
iftence. The poet muft not require a blind and
implicit faith of his fpectators, fo as to defire them
to fubmit with an unlimited credulity to whatever
be fays to them. Hear what Horace advifes on
this fubject.
Ficta voluptatis caufa, Jint proxima veris,
Nee quodcumque volet, pofcat ftbi fabula credi.
Hor. de Art. Poet,
Keep to old tales •, or if you muft have new,
' Feign things coherent, that may look like true.
Creech.
I am likewife convinced, that the magnificent
picture reprefenting Mary of Medicis in child
bed, would be much more agreable, had Rubens,
inftead of the genius and other allegorical figures
mixt in the action of the picture, introduced the
women, that affifted at the queen's delivery.
We fhould behold it with greater fatisfaction
if Rubens had exereifed his poetry in repre
fenting fome of them pleafed, others trant
ported with joy; fome under a concern for
« the.

Po e try and Paint ingT 157
the queen's pains, and others fomewhat vexed
to fee a dauphin of France. Painters, 'tis true,
are poets, but their poetry does not confift fo
much in inventing chimeras and extravagant
conceits, as in imagining juftly what paffions and
fentiments ought to be attributed to their perfon
ages, according to their character and fuppofed
fituation •, as likewife in finding expreffions proper
for rendering thofe paffions fenfible, and in mak
ing us form a right conjecture of thofe fentiments.
I do not recollect that either Raphael or Pouffin
have ever made that vicious ufe of allegorical per
fonages, which I have attempted to cenfure here
in this piece of Rubens.
But painters (fome will fay) have been in all
ages in poffeffion of a right to draw Tritons
and Nereids in their pictures, notwithftanding
thefe marine deities never had any real ex-
iftence. Pictoribus atque poefis
ghtidlibet audendi femper fuit aqua poteftas.
Hor. de Art. Poet.
Poets and painters equally may dare,
In bold attempts they claim an equal fh are,
And may do any thing. Creech.
Why therefore fhould Rubens be cenfured for hav
ing introduced them into that piece, which repre
fents the arrival of Mary of Medicis at Marfeilles ?
Befides, the nudity of thofe Divinities has a won
derful

158 Critical Reflections on
derful effect in compofition, amidft fuch a num
ber of dreffed figures, as hiftory obliged him to
give place to in his picture.
My anfwer is, that this licence granted to pain
ters and poets ought to be underftood, as Horace
himfelf explains it, Sed non ut placidis coeant im^
mitia. That is, this licence ought not to go
fo far, as to blend things incompatible in the
fame picture, fuch as the arrival of Mary of
Medicis at Marfeilles, and tritons founding their
fhells in the harbour. This princefs ought never to
meet in the fame place with tritons, were we even
to fuppofe a picturefque place, as Corneille infilled
on our fuppofing a theatrical one. If Rubens
had occafion for naked figures in order to difplay
his ability in defigning and colouring, he might
have introduced galley-flaves, affifting at the
queen's landing, and have placed them in what
attitude he liked beft.
Not that my defign is to conteft the right which
painters have acquired of drawing Sirens, Tritons,
Nereids, Fauns, and the reft of the fabulous Deities,.
and noble chimeras, with which the imaginations
of poets have peopled the waters and forefts, and
lavifhly inriched all nature. My cenfure is not
founded on this, that there never were Sirens nor
Nereids ; but that they had been exploded, when
the event happened, which gave rife to this dif-
cuffion. I grant that there are hiftorical compo- ,
fitions, where the Sirens and Tritons, like other Fa
bulous Divinities, may have a fhare in an ac
tion. Such are the hiftorical compofitions, which
reprefent

Poetry MTPainTing.' 159
reprefent the events that happened, while pa
ganifm fubfifted, when thefe Divinities' were gene
rally fuppofed to have a real exiftehce. But thefe
fame Divinities ought not to partake pf the acr
tion in fuch hiftorical GPmppfitions, as reprefent
events that have happened fince the extinction of
paganifm, and where they had loft that, kind of
exiftence, which the opinion of the vulgar had
given them during fuch a long fucceffion of ages.
They cannot be introduced into the latter fort of
compofitions any otherwife than as allegorical fi
gures and fymbols. Now we have already ob
ferved, that allegorical perfonages ought never to
have place in hiftorical compofitions, unlefs it be
as fymbolical perfonages denoting the attributes
©f hiftorical ones.
The fpectator can eafily comply with the opi
nion, which prevailed when the event reprefent
ed by the painter or poet is fuppofed to have hap
pened. Thus I confider Iris as an hiftorical
perfonage in the reprefentation of the death of
Dido. Venus and Vulcan are hiftorical perfon
ages in the life of iEneas. We are accuftomed
to humour the fuppofition, that thefe Divinities
were real beings in thofe times, becaufe the people
of thofe days actually believed their exiftence
The painter therefore, that reprefents the adven
tures of a Greek or Roman hero, may introduce
all the Deities as principal perfonages. He has a
right to imbellifh his compofitions as his fancy
dictates, with Tritons and Sirens. I have no ob
jection, for my part, againft his fyftem ; nay, I
have

160 Critical Reflections on
have already obferved, that thofe books which
form the occupation of our earlieft years, and
the probability there is in feeing an hero fue-
coured by the gods he worfhipped, incline us to
humour the fiction. By dint of hearing the ar
mours of Jupiter, and the paffions of the other gods
repeated frequently during our infancy,' we fall
into a habit of looking upon them as beings which
heretofore exifted, and were fubject to the fame
paffions as we are ourfelves. When we read the
hiftory of the battle of Pharfalia, 'tis only by re1
flection that we diftinguifh the kind of exiftence,
which thundering Jove had in thofe days, from
that of Csefar and Pompey.
But thefe Divinities change their nature, as it
were, and become mere allegorical perfonages in
the reprefentation of events, which have happened
in an age wherein the fyftem of paganifm was eX-»
ploded. When they take place in thefe events,
as real perfonages, I like to compare them to the
patron faints of fuch as were formerly fond of de
votional pictures ; faints, whom our old painters
ufed to reprefent in figures, that had more devotion
in them than good fenfe, without any regard to
probability or chronology. Thus they ufed to make
St. Jerome affift at the Lord's fupper, and St. Francis
at the crucifixion. But this vicious cuftom has
been long ago banifhed into our country villages.
After having treated of allegorical perfonages,
'tis proper we return to allegorical compofitions,,
An allegorical compofition is the reprefentation of
an imaginary or fictitious action, contrived in or
der

Poetry and Painting. 161
der to exhibit one or feveral marvelous events,
which the painter is unwilling to treat according
to the rules of hiftorical truth. The painters
employ thefe compofitions pretty nearly for the
fame ufe, as the ^Egyptians did their hieroglyphic
figures, that is, in order to expofe fenfibly to our
view, fome general truth of mgrality.
There are two forts of allegorical compofi
tions. The firft are merely allegorical, be
caufe they admit into their compofition none but
fymbolical perfonages, the offspring of painters
and poets brains. Of this fort are the two pic
tures of Corregio, painted in water colors, which
are to be feeh in the king's cabinet. In one of
them the painter has reprefented man tyrannized
by his paffions ; and in the other he expreffes, in
a fymbolical manner, the triumph of virtue over
the paffions. The fecond fort are thofe, in which
the painter mixes hiftorical and allegorical per
fonages together. Thus the apotheofis of Henry
IV. and the acceffion of Mary of Medicis to the
Regency, reprefented in that piece which is at the
bottom of the gallery of Luxemburg, are a mixt
compofition. The action of the picture is fictiti
ous, and is a type or figure of the decree of Par
liament, by which the Regency was conferred on
the queen •, but the painter has rendered it a mixt
compofition, by introducing Henry the IVth, and
feveral other hiftorical perfonages.
Painters very rarely fucceed in mere allegorical
compofitions, by reafon that it is almoft impof
fible for them to convey a diftinct knowledge of
Vo l. I. M their

1,62 Critical Reflections on
their fubject in works of that kind, or to place*
all their ideas within the reach of the moft
fenfible fpectators. Much lefs are they capable of
touchingthe heart, which is very little inclinable'
to relent for the fake of chimerical perfonages, in
whatever fituation they are reprefented. The mere
allegorical compofition ought not therefore to be'
employ'd but upon a very urgent neceffity, to
help the painter out of fome difficulty, from
which he cannot extricate himfelf by the ordinary
method. In this kind of compofition there are
only a fmall number of figures allowed, and thefe:
cannot be too eafily diftinguifhed. If a perfon
does not comprehend this compofition eafily, he
will throw it afide as mere fuftian and nonfenfe ;
for there is nonfenfe in painting as well as in poe
try. I cannot recollect more than one compofition
merely allegorical, that can be cited as a model,
and which even Pouffin and Raphael (if I may be
allowed to judge of their fentiments by their
works), would have been willing to have adopted.
'Tis impoffible to imagine any thing more com-
pleat in its kind than this idea, fo elegant in its
fimplicity, and fo fublime by its agreement with
the place for which it was defigned. This famous
compofition was the invention of the late prince of
Conde "\ a prince of as bright a conception, and'
as lively an imagination, as any perfon in his
time.
A Henry Julius.. , The

Poetry 'and Pa i n 1 1 n g. 16$
The prince here mentioned, caufed the hiftory
of his father, commonly known in Europe by the
name of the Great Conde, to be painted in the
gallery of Chantilly. There was one difficulty
which lay in his way in the execution of his pro
ject. The hero in his youth had been engaged.
in the interefts of the enemies of our government,
and had performed part of his great exploits whilft
he bore arms againft his country. It might be
therefore naturally expected, that there fhould be
no parade made of thofe atchievements in the
gallery of Chantilly. On the other hand, fome
of thofe very actions, as his fuccouring the town
of Cambray, and his retreat from before Arras,
were fuch illuftrious feats of war, that it muft
have been a great mortification to a fon fo fond
of his father's glory, to fupprefs them in a kind
of temple which he was going to erect to the memo
ry of this hero. The ancients would have faid, that
piety itfelf had infpired him with the method of per
petuating the memory of thofe great actions, whilft
he made a fhew of concealing them. He ordered
therefore Clio, the hiftorical mufe, an allegorical
but well-known perfonage, to be drawn with a
book in her hand on the back of which there
was the following Title, The Life of Prince Conde.
With another hand fhe Was tearing fome leaves
out of the book, which, as fafl as fhe tore, fhe
flung upon the ground. On the fcattered leaves
one might read, The relief of Cambray, the fuc-
cour of Valenciennes, the retreat from before Arras,
in fhort, the title of almoft all the great actions of
M 2 Prince

164 Critical Reflections on
Prince Conde during his flay in the Spanifh Ne
therlands ; actions wherein every thing was com
mendable, but the caufe in favor of which he per
formed them. Unfortunately this piece was not
executed purfuant to fo ingenious and fo fimple an
idea. The prince, who had conceived fo noble a
defign, fhewed on this occafion an excefs of com-
plaifance for the art, by giving the painter leave
to alter the elegance and fimplicity of his thought,
by figures, which add only to the compofition of
the piece, without making it fay any more than
what had been expreffed already in fo fublime a
manner. The allegorical compofitions, which we have
diftinguiffied by the name of mixt ones, are of
much greater ufe than fuch as are merely al
legorical. Though their action be fictitious, as
well as that of compofitions merely allegorical,
neverthelefs, as fome of their perfonages happen
to be hiftorical, the meaning of thofe fictions may
be rendered intelligible to every body, fo as to
become capable of inftructing and engaging us.
Painters find this fecond fort of allegorical
compofitions of great fervice, either when they have
a mind to exprefs a great many things, which they
cannot render intelligible in an hiftorical compofi
tion ; or when they want to reprefent in one fingle
piece feveral actions, whereof each fhould natu
rally feem to demand a feparate picture. We
have feveral inftances of this kind in the galleries
of Luxemburg and Verfailles. Here Rubens and
Le Brim have found means to reprefent, by the
help

Poetry and Painting. 165
help of thofe mixt fictions, feveral things which
were thought impoffible to be expreffed in colors.
They exhibit frequently in one piece, fuch events,
as an hiftorian would take feveral pages to relate.
As for inftance :
In the year 1672 France declared war againft
the Dutch. The Spaniards, who by the treaties
fubfifting between the two nations were forbidden
to interfere in the quarrel, fupplied the Dutch not
withftanding with private fuccours. Thefe fuc-
cours however proved but a very weak obftruc-
tion to the rapidity of the king's conquefls. The
Spaniards at length, intending to oppofe the king's
progrefs more effectually, pulled off the mafk,
and declared war againft France. But their pub
lic affiftance was attended with as little fuccefs as
their private fuccours. In fpite of all their efforts,
the king took Maeftricht, and afterwards carried
the feat of war into the Spanifh Netherlands,
where he took, every campaign, a number of
ftrong towns, till the peace at length put a flop to
his conquefls. This is the fubject which Le Brun
Undertook to reprefent, a fubject which feemed to
fall more within the province of poetry than of
painting ; however he executed the piece in the
following manner :
The king appears in a triumphal chariot, led
by victory, and drawn by rapid couriers. This
chariot overturns, as it goes along, a number of
aftonifhed figures of towns and rivers, which
formed the frontiers of the Dutch ; each of which
figures is known directly, either by its coat of
M 3 arms,

166 Critical Reflections on
arms, or by its other attributes. This is the true
picture of what really happened in that war,
when the very conquerors themfelves were fur-
prized at their fuccefs. A woman who reprefents
Spain, and is eafily diftinguiffied by her Lion and
other attributes, attempts to flop the king's cha
riot, by laying hold of the reins, but inftead of
the reins fhe only catches the traces ; the chariot
fhe intended to flop, drags her along, and the
mafk fhe had on, falls to the ground in this un-
fuccfefsful ftruggle.
It would be unneceffary to take a great deal of
pains to convince painters, that it is in their power
to make fometimes a good ufe of allegorical com
pofitions and perfonages : They are but too in
clinable of themfelves to employ allegory to ex-
cefs in all forts of fubjects, even in thofe that are
leaft fufceptible of fuch imbellifhments. But the
fault of being over fond of making a fhow of the
brightnefs of one's imagination, which is com
monly called wit, is general to all mankind, who
are frequently led aftray thereby, even in profef-
fions of a much graver nature than painting.
Nothing makes one fay, and commit fo many filly
things, as the defire of appearing witty.
But confining myfelf within the limits of paint
ing, I may venture to affirm, that there is nothing
which eftranges good painters fo much from the
true end of their art, and leads them into fo many
prepofterous abfurdities, as the defire of acquiring
applaufe by the fubtlety of their imagination, that
is, by their wit. Inftead of flicking to the imi-
3 Cation

'Poetry aW Painting. 167
tation of the paffions, they chufe to let their ca
pricious imagination ramble, and forge a number
of chimera's, the myfterious allegory whereof, is
much obfcurer than Sphinx's enigmatical quefti
ons. Inftead of fpeaking to us in the language of
the paffions, underftood by every body, they
addrefs us in a language of their own invent
ing, whereof the expreffions, though propor
tioned to the vivacity of their own imagination,
are not adapted to the capacity of the reft of
mankind. Thus all the perfonages of an allego
rical picture 'are frequently mute with regard to
the fpectators, whofe imagination happens not to
be upon an equal degree of elevation with that of
the painter. This myfterious fignification is placed
on fuch an eminence, that»it is out of every body's
reach. Fhave already taken notice, that pictures
ought not to be riddles, and that the end and de-
fign of painting is not to exercife our imagination,
by prefenting it with intricate fubjects to unravel.
Its aim is to move us, wherefore the fubjects of
its pieces cannot be too intelligible.
We meet with feveral fcraps of painting in the
gallery of Verfailles, the meaning whereof be
ing wrapt up too myfterioufly, efcapes the moft
fubtle penetration, and furpaffes the ableft inftruc-
tion. Every body is acquainted with the princi
pal actions of the life of the late king, which
forms the fubject of all thofe pieces •, and the cu
rious are moreover affifted here by the infcriptions
put over the principal fubjects. And yet there re
mains an infinite number of allegories and fym-
M 4 bols,

168 Critical Reflections on
bols, which even the moft learned are incapable
of unfolding. They have been even reduced to
the neceffity of laying books on the tables of this
magnificent portico, to explain and decypher, as
it were, thefe myfterious allegories. The fame
may be faid of the gallery of Luxemburg. Per
fons that are perfectly well acquainted with the
particulars of the iife of Mary of Medicis, and
even fuch as are moft knowing in mythology and
emblems, cannot comprehend one half of Rubens's
thoughts. Perhaps they would not be able to
guefs at even one quarter of what this too ingeni
ous painter meant, were it not for the a explica
tion of thofe pictures, which fubfifted as yet by
the affiftance of a recent tradition, when Monfieur
Fdibien committed it firft to writing, and infert-
ed it in his Difcourfes on the lives of the painters b.
People of all countries, and efpecially the French,
are foon tired with fearching a painter's mean
ing, who chufes always to keep it concealed.
The pictures of the gallery of Luxemburg, whofe
fubject is gazed on with the greateft pleafure, are
thofe whofe compofition is merely hiftorical j
fuch as the queen's marriage and coronation.
The power of truth is fuch, that imitations and
fictions never have greater fuccefs, than when they
* This explication was renewed, with additions by Monfieur
Maureau de Mautour, in a treatife publijhed in the year 1704.
at the time that the duke of Mantua lodged at the palace of Lux
emburg, when all Paiis crowded to fee' this prince, and the fine
gallery of this palace. Not long afterward}, it was ingrawed.
* Tom. II. p. 198.
2 fwerve

Poetry and Painting. 169
fwerve from it leaft. After contemplating thofe pic
tures, with regard to art, we look at them with the
fame attention, as we fhould lend to the recitals
of a cotemporary of Mary of Medicis. Every
one finds fomething that hits his particular tafte
in pictures, where the painter has reprefented an
hiftorical point in its full truth ; that is, without
any alteration of its hiftorical probability. One
perfon makes his remarks on the dreffes of thofe
times, which are never difagreable when drawn
by an artift, who knows how to adapt them pro
perly to his perfonages, and to fet them off in
their drapery with as much grace as their air will
admit of. Another examines the features and
countenances of the illuftrious perfons. The good
or evil which hiftory records of them, had infpir
ed him long fince with a curiofity of being ac
quainted with their phyfiognomies. Another
takes notice of the order and arrangement of an
affembly. In fhort, that which ftrikes every body
moft in the galleries of Luxemburg and Verfailles,
is not the allegories interfperfed thro' moft of the
pictures, but the expreffion of the paffions j where
there is more real poetry than in all the emblems
that have been hitherto invented.
Such is the expreffion which draws every body's
eyes towards the countenance of Mary of Medicis
in child-bed. One may diftinctly perceive the
fenfe of joy fhe feels in having brought forth a
dauphin, amidft the fenfible marks of that pain,
to which Eve and her female pofterity were con
demned. In fine, whilft 'tis univerfally allowed, that

1 70 Critical Reflections on
that thefe galleries, which are judged to , be two
of the richeft porticos in . Europe, abound with
beauties, admirable for their defign and coloring,
and that the compofition of their pictures is mpft
exquificely elegant ; every body would be pleafed,
if thofe painters had not filled them with fuch a
number of figures incapable of fpeaking to us,
and with fo many .actions that have no power of
engaging us. Now, as Vitruvius very fenfibly
obferves, 'Tis not fufficient that our eyes be pleafed
with the coloring and defign of a picture ; our un-
derftanding ought alfo to find its account. The
artifl therefore ought to chufe fuch a fubject
as can be eafily underftood, and handle.it in fuch
a manner as to render it interefting to us. He
adds, That he fets no value upon pictures, whofe
fubjects are not drawn in imitation of fome truth a.
This paffage will exempt me from treating of fi
gures that are commonly called grotefque.
Painters ought to employ their allegories in de
votional pictures with a much greater referve than
in profane pieces. They may indeed, in fuch fubjects
as do not reprefent the myfteries and miracles pf our
religion, make ufe of an allegorical compofition,
the action whereof fhall be expreffive pf fome
truth, that cannot be reprefented otherwife either
in painting or fculpture. I agree therefore to let

1 Neque enhn piBura probari dibent, qua non funt fimiles ve.
ritati, nee fifafiafunt elegantes ah artei, idea de his debet ftatim
judicari, nifi argumentations certas , habuerint. rationes, Jine.of-
fenfionibus explicatas. Vitruv. 1. 7. c. 5.
them

Poetry and Painting. 171
them draw faith and hope fupporting a dying per
fon, and religion in deep affliction at the. feet of
a deceafed prelate. But I am of opinion, that
artifts, who treat of the miracles and dog
mas of our religion, are allowed no kind of alle
gorical compofition. They may, at the moft,
introduce into their action, (which ought always
to be an imitation of hiftorical truth) fome of
thofe allegorical figures, that are agreable to the
fubject ; fuch as, for inftance, faith drawn by the
fide of a faint who has operated a miracle.
The facts, whereon our religion is built, and
the doctrine it delivers us, are fubjects in which
the painter's imagination has no liberty to fport.
Thefe facred truths, on which we fhould not even
think without humility and terror, ought not to
be painted with fo much wit ; nor reprefented
under the emblem of an ingenious allegory.
Much lefs is it allowable to borrow perfonages and
fictions from fables to reprefent thefe verities. Mi
chael Angelo was univerfally blamed, for having
mixt the fictions of heathen poetry with the re
vealed articles of the laft judgment, in the repre
fentation he has drawn thereof on the bottom
wall of the chappel of Sixtus the IVth. Rubens,
methinks, has committed a much greater fault
than that of Michael Angelo, in drawing, as he
has done, the great altar-piece of the Dominicans
of Antwerp. This great poet expreffes there too
ingenioufly, by means of an allegorical compofi
tion, the merit of the interceffion of faints, by
whofe

172 Critical Reflections on
whofe prayers, finners obtain frequently time arid
means to appeafe the divine vengeance.
Chrift advances from betwixt the other two per
fons of the Trinity, as if he were going to execute
the fentence of damnation, which he had juft be
fore pronounced againft the world, figured by a
globe placed at the bottom of the picture. He
holds a thunder-bolt in his hand, in the attitude of
a fabulous Jove, and feems juft ready to dart it
againft the world. The virgin Mary, and feveral
faints placed near to Chrift intercede for the
world, without feeming to prevail on him to fuf-
pend his fury. But to come to the defign of
the picture, and to its agreement with the place
where it was to be expofed, St. Dominic covers
the world with his mantle and rofary. Methinks,
I fee too great a fhew of art and wit in the repre
fentation of fo awful a fubject. Infpired writers
might indeed make ufe of parables, in order to
explain more fenfibly the truths, which the Deity
revealed thro' their mouths. God was pleafed to
infpire them with the very figures, which they
were to employ, and with the application they
were to make of them. But it is honor enough
for our painters, to be admitted to give an hifto
rical reprefentation of fuch myfterious events as can
be exhibited to the fight. They are not allowed
to invent fo many fictions, and to ufe them as
their fancy fuggefts, in expofing the like fubjects.
What I have faid with refpect to painters, is equali
ty applicable, methinks, to poets -, nor do: I ap
prove

Poetry and Painting; 173
prove of Sannazarius's poem on the Virgin's
child-birth, nor of the vifions of Ariofto, any
more than of the compofition, employed by
Rubens to reprefent the merit of the interceffion
of faints.
Some will object here, that I am for reducing
painters to the condition of meer hiftorians, with
out reflecting that invention and poetry are abfo-
lutely effential to painting. They will charge me
with attempting to extinguifh that fire of imagir
nation in painters, (whereby they merit fometimes
the appellation of divine artifts) in order to con
fine them to the functions of a fcrupulous anna-
lift. But I anfwer, that the enthufiafm which
conftitutes painters and poets, does not confift in
the invention of allegorical myfteries, but in the
talent of inriching their compofitions with all
the imbellifhments which the probability of the
fubject will admit of, as well as in giving life to
their perfonages by the expreffing of the paffions.
Such is the poetry of Raphael, fuch of Pouffin,
fuch of Sueur ; and fuch frequently that of Le
Brun and Rubens.
'Tis not neceffary to invent new fubjects, nor
to create new perfonages, in order to attain to
the reputation of a poet of an exalted rapture. The
name of a poet is acquired by giving the action
treated of, a capacity of moving the paffions ; which
is effected by forming a right judgment of the
fentiments fuitable to perfonages, as fuppofed in a
particular fituation ; and in drawing from one's
own fund, fuch ftrokes as are propereft for ex
preffing

174 Critical Reflections on
preffing juftly thefe fentiments. This is what dif-
tinguifhes a poet from an hiftoriah, who ought
not to imbellifh his narrative with circumftances
drawn from his imagination, nor invent fituations
that may render his events more interefting ; who
is even feldom allowed to exercife his genius in
lending fuitable fentiments of his own production
to his perfonages. The difcourfes-, which the
great Corneille lends to Casfar oh the death of
Pompey, are a better proof of the fecundity of
his vein, and of the fublimity of his imagination,
than the invention of the allegories of the pro
logue of the golden fleece.
The invention of thofe touches, which nature
ufes in expreffing the paffions, requires a jufter
and more fertile imagination, than the deviling
of emblematical figures. One may produce this
fort of fymbols eternally, by the help of two or
three books, which are inexhauftible funds for
thefe little toys ; whereas a perfon muft have a
fertile imagination, conducted by a wife and judi
cious underftanding, to fucceed in the expreffing
of the paffions, and in drawing a true picture
of their fymptoms.
But the advocates for wit will be apt to fay,
that there muft be certainly more merit in' in
venting things that were never thought of, than
in copying nature, as my painter does, who is
fuppofed to excel in the expreffion- of the paf
fions. Whereto I reply, that it is neceffary to
know fomething more than to make a fervile co
py of nature (tho' this is knowing a vaft deal) in

• P o e try arid Pa i n t i n*g\" 175
in order to give each paffion its fuitable character,
and to exprefs juftly the fentiments of all the per
fonages of a picture. 'Tis neceffary to know
how to copy nature, in a manner, without
feeing it. 'Tis neceffary to be able to form
a juft idea of its motions under circumftan
ces that one has no experimental knowledge of.
Can a painter be faid to have nature in view, who
copies a fedate and tranquil model, when his bu
finefs is to draw a head, on which the fymptoms
of love ought to appear amidfl the fury, and tu
mult of jealoufy? One fees fome part of nature
in his, model, but there is no appearance at all of
that which is of the greateft importance, with ref
pect to the fubject defigned to be reprefented.
We fee the- fubject which the paffion fhould have
animated, but we do not perceive it in the fituation
to which the paffion reduced it ; and 'tis in this very
fituation it ought to be painted. The painter ought
alfo to apply to the head whatfoever is generally
mentioned in books, 'with regard to the effect the
paffions have on the countenance, and concerning
the marks they are known by. All the expref-
fions ought to have fomething of the character of
the head, of a perfonage reprefented in the agita
tion of a particular paffion. The imagination
therefore of the artift ought to fupply whatever
is moft difficult with refpect to the expreffion, un-
lefs he happens to have in his fhop a much com
pleter model of a comedian than Baron a.
a A famous French comedian. ¦
CHAP.

176 Critical Reflections oft

CHAP. XXV.
Of allegorical perfonages and actions, with
regard to poetry.
WE come now to treat of the ufe, which
may be made in poetry, of allegorical
perfonages and actions. The allegorical perfon
ages employed in poetry are of two forts , one
perfect, and the other imperfect.
The perfect allegorical perfonages are fuch as
have been intirely produced by poetry, who has
given them a body and foul, and has rendered
them capable of all human fentiments and actions.
'Tis thus poets have made perfonages of victory,
wifdom, glory •, and, in fhort, of all thofe things
which painters, as we have obferved, convert in
to perfonages in their pictures. ^ ¦.
The imperfect allegorical perfonages are be
ings that really exift, on which poetry be
llows the faculties of thinking and fpeaking,
which they have not ; but without giving them a
perfect exiftence like ours. Thus poetry forms
imperfect allegorical perfonages, when fhe lends
fentiments to the woods and rivers •, in fhort,
when fhe makes all the inanimate beings think
and fpeak ; or when raifing animals above their
fphere, fhe bellows more reafon upon them than
they really have, and an articulate voice, which
they want. The latter allegorical perfonages are
the

Poetry and Painting. 177
the greateft ornament of poetry^ who never ap
pears with fo majeftic a pomp, as when fhe ani
mates and gives fpeech to nature. 'Tis in this con
fifts the fublimity of the pfalm, When Ifrael came
out of Mgypt, and- of feveral others, with which
fome people of tafte are as much affected, as with
the fineft paffages of Homer and Virgil. But
thefe imperfect perfonages are not proper for
a part ih the action of a poem, uhlefs it be
that of an apologue or moral fable. They
can only come in as fpectators, to take- part in
the actions of other perfonages, in the fame man
ner as the chorus's ufed to ffiare in the trage
dies of the ancients.
I apprehend thefe allegorical perfonages may
be treated in poetry, as we have handled them
in painting. They ought not' to act one of the
principal parts •, but they fhould only intervene,
either as attributes of the principal perfonages, or
in order to exprefs more nobly, by the help of
fiction, that which would appear low and trivial
in a fimple expreffion. 'Tis for this reafon
Virgil makes a perfonage of Fame in his iEneid.
Though 'tis obfervable, that this poet introduces
but a very fmall number of fuch perfonages in
his works, and I muft own I have never heard
Lucan commended, for having made a more fre
quent ufe of them.
The reader will reflect here of himfelf, that
Venus, Cupid, Mars, and the other heathen Di
vinities, are hiftorical perfonages in the iEneid.
The events defcribed in this poem, happened at
Vo l. I. N a time

178 Critical Reflections on
a time, when the generality of mankind were
perfuaded of their exiftence. Thefe Deities are
alfo hiftorical perfonages in the poems of fuch
modern writers, as chufe their fcenes and actors
From the times of paganifm, , They may there
fore, when treating of fuch fubjects, employ thofe
Divinities as principal actors ; but let them take
care they do not confound them with fuch per
fonages, as Difcord, Fame, and others, which
even in thofe days were only allegorical fubjects.
As for poets who treat of actions, that have not
happened among the heathens, they ought not to
employ the fabulous Deities, except as allegorical
perfonages. Wherefore they fhould not let Mi
nerva, Cupid, or even Jupiter himfelf, act a prin
cipal character.
With regard to the allegorical actions, poets
ought never to ufe them but with great difcre-
tion. They may be employed with fuccefs in
fables and ether pieces defigned to inftruct and
amufe the mind, where the poet fpeaks in his
own name, and can make the application him
felf of the leflbns he intends to give us. 'Tis
by the help of allegorical actions, that feveral
poets have conveyed agreable truthis to us, which
they could not have expofed unaffifted by this fic
tion. The converfations which fables fuppofe be
tween brutes are allegorical actions ; and fables
are fome of the moft agreable productions of poe
try. I cannot think, that an allegorical action is
a proper fubject for dramatic poetry, whofe defign
k to move us by the imitation of human paffions.
As

Poetry and Paint i n g.' 179
As the author does not fpeak to us directly in
this fort of poem, and confequently cannot fb
well explain what he means by his allegory, we
fhould be frequently expofed to the danger of
reading it without being able to comprehend his
idea. One muft have a very extraordinary capa
city, to difcover always juftly the application we
ought to make of an allegory. My opinion
therefore is, that thefe actions ought to be left to
fuch poets as ufe narratives, and not to be em
ployed by dramatic writers.
Befides, it is impoffible for a piece, whofe fub
ject is an allegorical action, to intereft us . very
much. Thofe which writers of approved wit and
talents have hazarded in this kind, have not fuc
ceeded fo well as others, where they have been difpof-
ed to be lefs ingenious, and to treat hiftorically their
fubject. The luftre reflected by a- metaphorical
action, the delicacy of thought it fuggefts, and
the finenefs of turn with which a perfon applies his
allegory to the follies of men ; in a word, all the
graceful imbelliffiments that a bright wit can draw
from fuch a fiction, are all out of their place, when
introduced upon the ftage. The pedeftal, we
may fay, is not made for the ftatue. Our heart
requires truth even in fiction itfelf ; and when it is
prefented with an allegorical action, it Cannot de
termine itfelf, (if I be allowed this expreffion) to
enter into the fentiments of thofe chimerical per
fonages. It confiders them as fymbols and enig
mas, that envelop fome precepts of morality, or
fatyrical ftrokes, which properly belong to the
N 2 jurifdiction

180 Critical Reflections on
jurifdiction of the mind. Now a theatrical piece,
were it to fpeak only to the mind, would never be
capable of engaging our attention during the
whole performance. We may therefore addrefs
dramatic poets in the following words of Lactan-
tius. a Know that poetic licence hath its bounds V be
yond which you are not permitted to carry your fiction.
A poet's art confifts in making a good reprefentation
of things that might have really happened, and in im-
bellifhing them with neat and elegant images. But
to invent a chimerical action, and to form perfonages
of the fame kind as the action, is to act rather the
part of an impoftor, than of a poet.
I am not ignorant, that the perfonages of feveral
comedies of Ariftophanes, for inftance, thofe of
the Birds, and of the chorus's of the Clouds, are
intirely allegorical. But it is not difficult to guefs
at the reafons, which induced Ariftophanes to treat
his fubjects thus, when we. know that this poet's
aim was to expofe on the ftage the moft confide-
rable perfons of the republic of Athens ; and ef
pecially thofe who had the greateft fhare in
the war of Peloponnefus. The learned are all
agreed, that this poet frequently alludes in thefe
comedies to the different events of that war,
or to fome other adventures, whereof it had been
* Nefciunt homines, qui 'fit Poetica licentia modus, quoufque
progredi fingendo liceat : cum officium poet a in eo fit, ut ea qua
<vere geri potuerunt, in alias fpecies obliquis figurationibus cum de-
core aliquo conwerfa traducat. Tolum autem, quod referas,finge-
re, id eft ineptum effe & mendace?n potius quam poetmn. Lact. the

Poetry and Painting. 181
the occafion. Ariftophanes, who had a more for
midable fet of men to deal with than Socrates,
could not mafk his perfonages too much, nor too
artfully difguife his fubjects.. Wherefore an alle
gorical action and perfonages were more proper
for his purpofe than ordinary ones. Befides, his
three laft comedies (I mean, according to the or
der they are now difpofed in,) have a rational and
probable action for their fubject. The French,
were miftaken, as well as other nations, with re
gard to the nature of the drama, when , firft they
began to write dramatic pieces worthy of notice.
They imagined at that time, that allegorical
actions might be the fubjects of comedy. There
is a piece yet extant, which was exhibiteJ at the
nuptials between Philibert Emmanuel, duke of
Savoy, and the fifter of our king Henry the lid.
the action whereof is purely allegorical. Paris
appeared there in the quality of a parent of three
daughters, which he wanted to difpofe of in mar
riage •, and thefe three daughters were the three
principal parts of Paris ; to wit, the univer-
fity, city, and fuburbs, of which the poet had
formed his perfonages. But either reafon or in
ftinct has cured us thoroughly of this pernicious
tafte. 'Tis true fome poets have endeavour
ed of late years to renew it, but they have
luckily mifcarried in the attempt. Allegorical ac
tions therefore are fuitable only to the prologues
of operas, which are intended to ferve as a kind
of preface to the tragedy, and to point out the.
"application of its moral. Monfieur Quinault has
N 3 ffiewa

182 Critical Reflections on
ffiewn us how to treat thefe allegorical actions,.
and tp apply their allufions tp fuch events, as are
recent at the time when the prologues are re
prefented.

CHAP. XXVI.
That the fubjects of painters are not exhauft
ed. Examples drawn from the pictures
of Chrijfs crucifixion.
O M E are apt to complain of the inconve
niences, which the painters and poets of our
days lye under, by having all their fubjects pre
occupied by their predeceffors. Even thefe artifts
themfelves frequently make the fame complaint,
tho', methinks, very unjuftly. A little reflection
will be fufficient to fhew, that the excufe alledged
by the prefent artifts, of being ftraightened for
want of fubjects, ought not to be admitted, when
we can prove, that they are fometimes cenfured
for want of invention, that is, for having nothing
new, even in their new productions. There is
fo great a variety in nature, that fhe can always
furnifh frefh fubjects to thofe that have any tole
rable genius.
A man of genius views and confiders nature,
as. imitable by his art, with a far different eye from
thofe that have no genius. He difcovers an infi nite

Poetry and Painting^ i 83
nite diverfity between thofe very objects, which
to the eyes of other men appear the fame, and
he knows fo well how to render this diverfity dif-
cernible in- his imitation, that thcmoft thread-bare
fubject affumes an air of novelty under his pen,
or pencil. A great painter has an endlefs flock
of different joys and forrows, which he has the
art of diverfifying by the ages, complexions,
characters of nations and of particular people,
and likewife by a thoufand other methods. As
a picture reprefents only one inftant of an ac
tion, a painter of any genius lays hold of fome in
ftant untouched by his predeceffors, and imbel-
lifhes it with circumftances drawn from his own
imagination, which give it the air of a new fub
ject. Now it is the invention of thefe circum
ftances, that conftitutes the character of a poetic
painter. What prodigious numbers of pictures
have we had in all ages of the crucifixion of our
Saviour ? Neverthelefs, artifts endowed with ge
nius have not perceived, that this fubjeft has been
yet exhaufted. They have conftantly contrived
to imbellifh it with new touches of poetry, which
feem notwithftanding fo well adapted to the fub
ject, that one is even furprized, why the firft
painter, who ftudied the compofition of a cruci
fixion, did not lay hold of thofe very ideas.
Such is the picture of Rubens, which is feen on
the great altar of the Francifcans at Antwerp.
Chrift appears dead betwixt the two thieves, who
have not yet expired. The good thief looks up
to heaven with a confidence grounded on the words
N 4 of

584 Critical Reflections on
of Chrift ; a confidence that is even vifible amidft
the tortures of his execution. Rubens, without
placing the devils on the fide of the bad thief, pur
fuant to the practice of feveral of his predeceffors,
has rendered him, notwithftanding, a lively object
of horror. For this purpofe, he made ufe of a cir-
cumftance of the execution of this wretch, which
the gofpel takes notice of, where it fays, that his
bones were broken, in order to haften his death.
One may perceive by the livid contufion of his
leg, that the executioner had already ftruck him
with an iron bar, which he holds in his hand. The
impreffion of a great blow obliges a perfon natural
ly to contract his body with a violent motion.
The bad thief raifes himfelf therefore on the gib
bet, and in the effort caufed by his pain, he tears
off the wounded leg, by forcing the head of the
nail which held his foot to the fatal tree. The
head of the nail appears loaded with the hideous
fpoils it carried off, by lacerating the flefh,
through which it paffed. Rubens, who was fo
great a mafter of impofing on the fight by the
magic pf his chiaro-fcuro, reprefents the body of
the thief projecting itfelf in the ftruggle from
the corner of the picture, where the flefh of this
body is the trueft, that ever same from the hands
of that famous colorift. The head of this male
factor is drawn in profile : and his mouth, with
its enormous gaping, which is much better repre
fented in this fituation ; his eyes with their invert
ed balls, wherepf there appears only the white
ftreaked with red and fwoln veins ; and, in fine, the

Poetry and Paint in g. 185
the violent action of the mufcles of the face, all
together, would make a perfon imagine he is
liftening to the hideous cries with which he rends
the air. Behind the crofs appears a crowd of
fpectators, who give it a kind of prominence, whilft
they feem funk fo deeply themfelves into the pic
ture, that one would fcarce believe that all thefe
figures are drawn on the fame furface.
From the time of Rubens down to Coypel, the
fubject of the crucifixion has been frequently hand
led. Neverthelefs the latter painter has given an
air of novelty to his compofition. His piece re
prefents the moment, in which nature was con-
Vulfed with horror at the death of Chrift ; that mo
ment, when the fun was eclipfed by the interpofi-
tion of the moon, and the dead rofe out of their
fepulchres. On one fide of the piece you fee a
group of men feized with terror mixt with afto-
nifhment, at the fight of the ftrange confufion the
heavens are thrown into, on which they feem to
fix intirely their looks and attention. Their terror
forms a contrail with a fear mixt with horrpr,
with which fome other fpectators are ftruck ; from
amidft whom a dead body rifes fuddenly out of
its grave. This thought, fo agreable to the fitu
ation of the perfonages, and which fhews the dif
ferent accidents of the fame paffion, is carried e-
ven to the fublime •, but it appears fo natural, at
the lame time, that every one would be apt to
imagine,, it would have occurred to himfelf had
he treated the fame fubject. Does not the Bible,
of all books the moft univerfally read and known,
4 inforrn

186 Critical Reflections on
inform us, that nature fhopk with horror at the
death pf Chrift, and that the dead rofe out of
their tombs? We fhould naturally fay; How
was it poffible for any one fingle crucifix to have
been drawn, wherein thpfe terrible accidents were
npt difplayed, accidents fo capable of producing
fo furprizjng an effect? And yet Pouffin intro
duces into his picture of the crucifixion a dead
body riling out of its fepulchre, without drawing
from this apparition the fame poetic touch, as
Monfieur Coypel has done. But 'tis the natural
character of fuch fublime inventions as are the
fole product pf genius, to appear fo clofely con
nected with the fubject, as to make us imagine,
they ought to have been the firft ideas, that fhould
have offered themfelves to artifts, who have
handled this fubject. " 'Tis in vain to labor and
" fweat, fays Horace, in fearch of fuch happy in-
" ventions, unlefs we are endowed with a genius
" equal to that of the poet, whofe natural turn
s< and fimplicity we attempt to imitate,

JJt Jibi quivis

Speret idetn, fudet multum fruftraque labor et
Aufus idem.
I'll take a common theme, and yet excel,
Tho,' any man may hope to write as well;
Ye$ let him try, and be fhall fweat in vain,
Idle his labor, fmitlefs prove the pain.
Creech,

14

Poetry and Painting. 187
La Fontaine's genius fopplies him, in the cpniT
ppfitipn of hjs fables, with an infinite number of
pretty tpuches, which appear fo natural and fo
proper for the fubject, that the reader is apt im
mediately to imagine they would have occurred as
eaftly to himfelf, had he attempted to throw the
fa,me apologue info metre. This very thought
has long fince induced feveral poets £0 imitate
La Fontaine ; but amongft the feveral copies exr
tant of that kind? there are none but what fall
infinitely fhort pf the original.
CHAP. XXVII.
That poetic fubjects are not eyhmfted. And
that there n\ay be feveral new chambers
introduced into comedy.
WHAT has been juft now obferved, with
regard to paintiqg, is equally applica
ble to poetry. A poet of any genius, far from
pretending to fay hq can find no new fubje&s in
nature, will not, I dare venture to affirm,, fo
much as think any one fubject exhaufted. That
penetration, which inseparably abends a man pf
genius, difcovers pew faces |o him* Gv?n ^ ^pfe
fubjeas which are vulgarly efte,erned the moft
trite ; for a genius is fure to conduct every one in

188 Critical Reflections von
in their labor by a particular road, as I fhall ex
plain more at large in the fecond -part of this
work. Wherefore poets, directed each by a
particular genius, meet one another fo very fel-
dom, that one may, generally fpeaking, affirm
they never meet at all. Corneille and Racine
have treated the fame fubject, and formed each of
them a tragedy of Berenice ; and yet they pur-
fued fuch different roads, that there was no dan
ger of their meeting. Nothing is more different
from the plan and character of Corneille' s tragedy,
than the plan and character of that of Racine.
The comedies c-ompofed by Moliere, when he
had attained to his full -maturity of perfection,
refemble thofe of Terence, only inafmuch as both
are excellent pieces in their kind, tho' their beau
ties are extremely different.
Artifts born with a genius, do not take their
models from, the works of their predeceffors, but
from nature itfelf ; and nature is infinitely more
fertile of different fubjects, than the genius of ar
tifts is varied. Befides, 'tis not every fubject that
is within the reach of one fingle perfon's eye :
So far from that, he difcovers only thofe which
are fuited to his talents, and for which he perceives
he has a capacity and difpofition. As his genius
'does' not furnifh him with fuch ftrong ideas on
other fubjects, they appear of courfe ungrateful
to him.1 Another poet will confider them as
happy and agreable fubjects, becaufe he happens
to have a different kind of genius. 'Tis thus that

Poetry arid Pai n t inc. i8r)
that Corneille and Racine difcovered fubjects fuit
able to their talents, and treated them each ac
cording to his peculiar character. Were there tp
be another tragic poet, of as great a ftrength of
genius as they, he would foon find fubjects that
have efcaped them, and would be able to write
in a tafte intirely different from that of thofe
two eminent poets. Thus Cicero obfervesa,
with regard to fome illuftrious dramatic po
ets of Greece and Rome, that they were almoft
equal in fuccefs, tho' without any refemblance in
their writings.
Subjects, that are yet untouched, efcape our
notice, becaufe we have not a fufficient genius to
difcover them ; notwithftanding wc frequently
read the hiftory in which they are mentioned :
but thofe very fubjects would ftrike a poet's ima
gination, had he a proper genius to treat them.
Hence the fubject of Andromache, which had
made no impreffion on Corneille, ftruck Racine,
when he attained to a high degree of perfection
in poetry. The fubject of Iphigenia in Tauris,
which had efcaped Racine, will probably ftrike
fome new author. One may apply to the fub-
* Alque idprimum in poetls cerni licet, quibus eft proxima cog-
natio cum oratoribus, quam fint inter fe Pacwuius, Ennius, Ac-
ciufque difiimiles, quam apud Gracos jEfchylus, Sophocles, Eu
ripides, quanquam omnibus par paene laus in dijjimili genere
fcribendi trihmtur. Cic.de Orat. 1. ill, jects

ioq Critical Reflections on
jects of - tragedy, what Pbasdrus fays with regard-
to fables a :
Materia tanta abundat copia,
Labori faber ut deftt, non fabro labor.
The fubject is fo copious, that there is rather d
want of workmen for the employment, than of
employment for workmen.
True it is (fome will fay), that tragic poets'
can never want fubjects ; they, that can introduce
perfonages into an action in whatever fort of
charafter they pleafe, and who can embellifh alfo
their fable with extraordinary incidents invented
juft as their fancy fuggefts. 'Tis fufficient for tra
gic poets to draw fine heads •, and, in order to render
them afterwards more capable of engaging our
admiration, they may deviate in fome meafure
from the proportions which nature commonly ob-
ferves. But a comic poet muft exhibit portraits,
in which we can difcover thofe with whom we
live and converfe. We defpife the characters he
gives his perfonages, if they be not natural ; and
Moliere, and fome of his fucceffors, have been
before-hand with us, in feizing all the real cha
racters in nature. A tragic poet can invent new
characters •,- but a comic poet can only copy the
real characters of men ; confequently the fubjects
of comedy are exhaufted.
In anfwer to this objection I may venture to
affirm, that Moliere and his imitators have not
J Phjedr. I. 4. fab. 25. brought

Poetry and Pa in tin g\ iof
brought upon the ftage one fourth part of the cha
racters proper for forming the fubject of comedy.
The cafe is pretty near the fame, with regard to
the minds and characters of men, as with refpect
to their countenances. Man's face is compof
ed of the fame parts, of two eyes, one mouth,
&c. and yet mens countenances are all dif
ferent, becaufe they are differently compofed.
Now the characters of men are not only different
ly compofed, but moreover 'tis not always the
fame parts, that is, the fame vices, the fame vir
tues, and the fame projects, that enter into the
compofition of their chara&er. Wherefore the
characters of men ought to have a much greater
difference and variety than mens faces.
The word character implies a mixture, a com
pofition of feveral failings and virtues. Now in
this mixture fome particular vice predominates,
if the character be vicious ; and fome virtue or
another prevails, if the character be virtuous.
Thus the different characters of men are fo d'rver-
fified by this mixture of faults, vices, virtues,
and of natural parts differently combined, that
two characters perfectly alike are a much greater
phenomenon in nature, than two faces of .a com
plete refemblance.
Now every well drawn character makes a good
perfonage in comedy. Every fuch character can
really act, with fuccefs, a part more or fefs- long,
more or lefs important. Why fhould love be a
privileged paffion, and the only one that can fur
nifh a variety of characters, by means of the di-
4 verfity,

igz Critical Reflections on
verfity, which age, fex, and prpfeffion ' caufe m
the fentiments of lovers ? Cannot the character
of a mifer be likewife varied by age, by paffi-'
ons, as alfo by profeffion ? Thefe characters, if
well drawn, would never be tirefome, becaufe they
exift in nature ; and a plain and ingenuous de
fcription of nature is always agreable. If there
fore any of our comic writers complain of their
being unable to bring new characters upon the
ftage, it muft proceed from their not being clear-
fighted enough to read into nature, to unravel di-
ftinctly the different principles of the fame actions,
and to fee how the fame principles operate dif
ferently upon every individual. It is very far
from being true, that all the various fubjects pf
human ridicule have been reduced to comedy.
But where are thofe new characters (fome
will fay) that have not as yet made their appear
ance on the ftage ? To which I anfwer, that I
would attempt to point out fome of them, had I
a genius like that of Terence or Moliere ; but I
happen to be of the number of thofe, of whom
Boileau3 fpeaks in the following verfes :
La nature fe'conde en bizarres portraits
Dans chaque ame eft marquee a de differens
traits,
Un gefte la decouvre, un rien la fait paroitre,
Mais tout mortel n'a pas des yeux pour la con-
noitre. • Art of Poetry, Canto 3,' Nature

Poetry and Painting^ 1931
Nature in various figures does abound,
And in each mind are different humours found i
A glance, a touch, dif covers to the wife ;
But every man has not difcerning eyes.
To have a diftinct and juft idea of what Can
form a character, requires a capacity of difcern
ing three or four touches that belong to a man's
peculiar character, amongft twenty or thirty things
which he fays or does in common with the reft of
mankind. One muft collect thefe touches, and pur-
fuingtheftudy of one'* model, extract, as it were,
from his actions and difcourfes fuch ftrokes, as are pro*
pereft for conveying a knowledge of the portrait.
Thefe are the ftrokes, which, feparated from
•fuch indifferent things, as all men fay and do
pretty near alike, and afterwards drawn and col
lected together, conftitute what we call a charac
ter, and give it, in a manner, its theatrical finifh-
ing. All men appear alike to limited capacities:
to people of a better underftanding they all feem
different : But every man is an original to a poet
born with a comic gehius.
The portraits of ordinary painters are all- placed
in one attitude, and have intirely the fame
air ; by reafon that thofe painters are not clear-
fighted enough, to difcern the difference of
each perfon's natural air, fo as to difcriminate
thereby his portrait. But an able painter knqw-s
how to give every one the air and attitude that
belongs to him by virtue of his conformation.
Vol. L O As

194 Critical Reflections on
As he has the talent ofdifcerning people's, natural
temper and difpofition, which is always different j
the countenance and action therefore of the per
fons he draws, are conftantly varied. Experience
alfo helps us very much to find out the real
difference between objects, which, at firft fight,
appear the fame. Thofe who look at negroes the
firft time, imagine that their countenances are all
alike; but by feeing them often they difcover
as great a variety in their faces as in thofe
of white men. Hence Moliere found more ori
ginals in the world, when he came to the age
of fifty, than when he was only forty years old.
I come back now to my propofition, which is,
that it does not follow that all the fubjects of
comedy are exhaufted ; becaufe perfons, who
have no 'genius for comedy, nor have ftudi-
ed man in the light, in which comedy ought
to ftudy him, are not able to point out new
fubjects. The generality therefore of mankind are capable
indeed of difcovering a character, when it has re
ceived its due form, and has been theatrically fi-
rifhed ; but there are none, except fuch as are born
with a genius for comedy, that are capable ofdifcern
ing this character, as long as the particular ftrokes
that are neceffary for the defigning of it remain
drowned and confufed in an infinite variety of dif
courfes and actions, which decency, mode,, cuf
tom, profeffion, and intereft fet all men upon
faying and doing pretty near with the fame, air,
and in fo uniform a manner, that their character dif-

Poetry and Pa inting. 195
tlifclofes itfelf imperceptibly only. JTis they alone
can inform us, what character would refult from
thofe ftrokes, were they to be detached from in
different actions and difcourfes, and drawn altoge
ther, as it were, into one body. In fine, to dif
cern the difference of characters in nature, is pro
perly the work of invention. Wherefore a man,
that is born without a comic genius, is incapable
of diftinguiffiing thofe characters ; in the fame
manner as a perfon born without a genius for
painting is unable to difcern, which are the moft
proper objects in nature for painting. How many
things, fays Cicero % do painters obferve in a par
ticular incident of light, that are imperceptible to,
«Ur eyes ?
I conclude therefore, that thofe painters and
poets, whom a difpofition of genius, and not a
mercenary view of fubfiftence, has called to the
arts they profefs, , will always be able to difcover
new fubjects in nature. Their predeceffors, if
I be allowed this figurative expreffion, have left
them a great deal more marble in the quarry,
than they had dug out themfelves for their own
ufe. * Quam multa <vidinifi£ores in umbrii, & in eir.inentia, qua
nos non widcmus. Cic. Acad. Quseft. 1. 4.

O 2 CHAP.

196 Critical Reflections on
CHAP. XXVIII.
Of poetic probability.
THE firft rule which painters and poets
ought to obferve in the treating of their
fubjects, is to infert nothing that is contrary to pro
bability, or feeming truth. Men can hardly be
touched with the reprefentation of an event, that
is glaringly impoffible. Poets, as well as painters,
that treat hiftorical facts, are allowed to fupprefs
fome part of truth. They both may add to thofe
facts fome incident of their own invention, pur
fuant to what Vida obferves.
Fitta poles mult a addere veris.
Vida poet. 1. 2.
Unnumbered fictions may with truths be join' d.
Pitt.
Poets and painters, that act in this manner, arc
not treated as liars. Fiction is never efteemed
a lie, except in works that are fuppofed to con
tain nothing but hiftorical facts. That which
would be deemed a . lie in the hiftory of Charles
the Vllth, is not efteemed fuch in the poem
of the Maid of Orleans. Thus a poet that has
feigned an honorable adventure in order to raife
the glory of his hero, is not an impoftor, tho' an
hiftorian

P o e try -and Pa i n t i n g. 1 97
hiftorian would be reckoned as fuch, were he to
take the fame liberty. A poet efcapes cenfure,
if his invention be not downright contrary tp
probability ; and if the fact he invents be fuch, as
might have poffibly happened. Let us firft treat
of probability with regard to poetry.
A probable fact is that which bears a poffibility
in the circumftances, under which it is faid to
have happened. That which is impoffible under
thofe circumftances, can have no appearance of
probability. I do not underftand here, by the
word impoffible, that which exceeds human force,
but which appears impoffible, granting even all
the fuppofitions that can be made by the poet.
As he has a right to infift upon our admitting
that to be poffible, which appeared fo at the time
he fixes his fcene ;, and whither, in fome meafure,
he transfers his readers ; we cannot therefore, for
example, charge him with breaking through the
rules of probability, by fuppofing that Diana car
ries off Iphigenia, and conveys her to Tauris,
juft at the very moment this princefs was going
to be facrificed. The event was poffible, accord
ing to the Greek Theology pf thofe times.
This being premifed, let thofe, who have more
confidence and refolution than I am mafter of, at
tempt to fix the limits between the probable and the
marvelous, with relation to each kind of poetry •,
with refpect to the time in which the event is fuppofed
to have happened ; and finally, with regard to the
greater or leffer credulity of thofe, for whom the poem
is compofed. To me it appears a very difficult
O 3 tafk

198 Critical Reflections on
tafk to fettle thofe boundaries. On the one fide,
men are not moved with fuch events, as ceafe to
be probable, by reafon of their being too marvel
ous : on the other hand, events that are fo. very
probable, as to ceafe to be marvelous, are hardly
capable of engaging their attention. The fame
thing happens with refpect to events, as withre-
gard to fentiments. Thofe fentiments that have
nothing marvelous, either in the grandeur and
fitnefs of the thought, or in the clearnefs of the
conception, or in the juftnefs of the expreffion 1
appear flat and trivial. Such a thought as that,
(one is apt to fay) might have occurred to any
body. On the other hand, fentiments, that have
too much of the marvelous, appear falfe and
overftrained. The fentiments, which Du Rier
lends to Scevola, in the tragedy of that name,
where he makes him fay of the people of Rome
to Porfenna, who intended to famifh them,
Se nourrira d'un bras, & combattra de V autre.
Will feed with one, with t'other arm will fight.
Becomes as ridiculous by the exaggeration it con
tains, as any bombaftic touch in Ariofto.
'Tis therefore, in my opinion, a thing im
poffible to convey the art of reconciling the
probable and the marvelous. x'lnis is attain
able only by fuch as are born great poets.
For them it is, that nature has referved the
privilege of uniting the marvelous and the proba
ble, without confounding the rights and limits of
either.

Poetry WPainting. 199
either. 'Tis the mafterly art of making this al
liance, that forms the characteriftic of poets of the
firft clafs, and diftinguifhes fuch as Virgil from
the herd of barren verfifiers, and of extravagant
poets. 'Tis this likewife, which difcriminates
thofe illuftrious poets, from flat and infipid au
thors, and from writers of romances and chivalry,
fuch as Amadis of Gaul, and many others.
The latter performances are not indeed deftitute
of the marvelous ; on the contrary, they are
quite fluffed with it ; but their fictions are fo very
improbable, and the events fo wonderful as even
to forfeit thofe readers whofe judgments are form
ed, and who have any acquaintance with folid and
prudent writers.
A poem, that violates the rules of probability,
is fo much the more defective, as the tranfgreffion
muft be obvious to every one's cenfure. We
have a tragedy of Monfieur Quinault, intitled,
The pretended Tiberinus ; where the poet fuppofes,
that Tiberinus, king of Alba, having died in a
certain expedition, one of his generals conceals
the knowledge of the king's death from the troops,
left they fhould be thereby difheartened. In order
to be the more able to keep it fecret, he made his
fon perfonate king TiberinuSj in which he was fa
voured by the perfect refemblance there was be
tween the king and Agrippa •, for this is the fon's
name, who was to pafs for Tiberinus. His fa
ther likewife had it whifpered about, in order to
give a more-plaufible appearance to the impofture,
that the deceafed king had put Agrippa fecretly to
O 4 death.

200 Critical Reflections w.
death. The whole kingdom of Alba fwallowed
the cheat during the fpace of a year, and the un*
ravelling of the piece, which furnifhes each act
with continued fcenes of wonders, becomes very
interefting to the fpectator : And yet this tragedy
will never be ranked amongft thofe, that are an
honor to the French ftage. It only affects us by
furprize, and we difavow our own emotion, when
we come to reflect on the extravagance of the
fuppofition, on which all the marvelous incidents
of the tragedy are founded. One can hardly ex
pect any pleafure in the repetition of a piece which
fuppofes fo perfect a refemblance, even with re-*
gard to the mind, between king Tiberinus and
Agrippa ; that Agrippa' s miftrefs, after having
converfed a long time with him, continues to take
him for Tiberinus.
I acknowledge notwithftanding, that a poem
abfolutely without the marvelous, would be more
difagreable to me, than a poem founded on an un
likely fuppofition. And here I join iffue with
Boileau, who prefers Cyrano's Travels thro' the
world of the Moon, to the barren poems of Mo-
tin and Cotin.
As there is nothing that prejudices more the
probability of 3 fact, than the certain knowledge
which the fpectator may chance to have, of its
having happened differently from the poet's re*?
cital ; thofe poets, methinks, whofe works pofi-
tively contradict the moft authentic hiftorical
truths, muft certainly hurt the probability of their
fictions. I am not ignorant, that falfity is fome times

Poetry and Painting. 2©r
lames more probable than truth : But we do not
regulate our affent, with refpect to facts, by their
metaphyfical likelihood, or by the notion of their
poffibility, but by mere hiftorical probability. We
do not examine into what was moft likely to happen,
but into what has been attefted by proper witneffes,
and related by hiftorians ; and then 'tis their rela
tion, and not the likelihood of the thing, that deter
mines our affent. The depofition therefore of
hiftorians being the rule of our affent with regard
to facts, whatever contradidts this depofition,
cannot have the appearance of probability. Now
as truth is the foul pf hiftory, fo probability is the
foul of poetry.

CHAP. XXIX.
Whether tragic poets be obliged to conform to
the pofitive accounts of Geography, Hiftory,
and Chronology. Remarks with refpect to
this fubject, on fome tragedies of CorneiUe
and Rlacine.
I A M therefore of opinion, that a tragic ppet
acts contrary to his art, when he tranfgreffes,
in too grofs a manner, againft hiftory, chronolo
gy, or geography, by advancing facts that are
Contradicted by thefe fciences. The more the
2 public

202 Critical Reflections \ on
public is convinced of the contrary of what he
afferts, the more his error prejudices his perform
ance. When faults of this nature are known,
they are very feldom forgiven by the public, nor
are they ever intirely excufed, without diminifhing-
fomewhat of the reputation and efteem of the
work. A poet ought not therefore to make Cyrus fave
the life of Tomyris, nor reprefent Csefar as the
murderer of Brutus. He fhould alfo, methinks,
fhew the fame refpect to received and eftablifhed
fables, as he does to hiftory. The accounts we
receive from fabulous hiftory, of its Gods and
heroes, have acquired a right of paffing for truth
in poems, nor are we any longer intitled to con
tradict its relations. ~- A poet moreover fhould
not, without a very great neceffity, make any al
teration in fuch accounts as we receive from hiftory
and fable, of the events, manners, and cuftoms
of thofe countries where he places his fcenes.
What has been here faid, muft not be fuppofed!
to extend to facts of fmall importance, and con-
fequently very little known. It would be a
piece of pedantry, for example, to find fault with
MoRfieur Racine for making Narciflus fay in Bri-
tannicus, that Locufta, the famous poifonei? in
Nero's time, had made a flave expire at her feet,
to try the activity of the poifon which fhe had
prepared for Britannicus ; becaufe hiftorians relate,
.that this experiment had been made upon a fwine..
The circumftance changed here by the poet, is
not confiderable enough to induce him to obferve-
2 itj

Poetry and Painting. 203
it, at the expence of the pathetic, which the life
of a man facrificed for the fake of an experiment,
throws into the recital, and of the trouble and dif
ficulty there would be in relating this incident, as
it is delivered by hiftorians. But I fhould not
condemn a perfon, fpr cenfuring feveral things in
this piece of Racine, which are pofitively contra
dicted by the accounts we have of the manners of
thofe times, and by what we know relating to the
hiftory of Nero.
Junia Calvina, Britannicus's miftrefs, of whofe
hiftory the poet gives us fome account in his pre-
, face, (where he is extreamly fearful left we fhould
confound her with Junia Silana) was not at Rome
at the time of the death of Britannicus. 'Tis im
poffible therefore, fhe could have been a perfonage
of the action he has brought upon the ftage. Ju
nia Calvina was exiled towards the clofe pf, the
reign of Claudius, for having been guilty of in
ceft with her brother ; and Nero did not recal her
from her banifhment, till he thought proper to
fhew fome examples of clemency, in order to re
concile the minds of the people, irritated by the
murder of his mother, Befides, the character
which Racine has bellowed upon this Junia Calvi
na, is contradicted by hiftory. He affects to re
prefent her as a virtuous young lady, and makes
her fay frequently, in poetic expreffions, that fhe
has not as yet any knowledge or experience of the
world. Tacitus, who muft have feen Junia Calvina,
fince fhe was living under the reign of Vefpafian, gives'

204 Critical Reflections on
gives her, in the hiftory of Claudius \ the cha
racter of an impudent woman. Before Claudius
was married to Agrippina, and upwards of feven
years before the death of Britannicus, fhe had
been married to Lucius Vitellius, brother to Vi-
tellius, who was afterwards made emperor. Se
neca, in his ingenious fatire on the death of the
emperor Claudius, talks of Junia Calvina, as if
he really believed her culpable of an inceftuous
commerce with her own brother, which had been
the caufe of her exile under the reign of that
prince. Racine cites a fcrap of the paffage of
Seneca, in fuch a manner, as one would imagine
he had not read it intire. He gives us indeed
the expreffion, by which Seneca defcribes her as
the pleafanteft girl of her time ; Fefiiviffimam om
nium puellarum : but he omits what Seneca adds,
that Junia Calvina had the air and appearance of
a Venus, tho' her brother chofe to make her his
Juno. Now every body knows, that Juno was
both filler and wife to Jupiter. Racine fuppofes,
in his preface, that it was Junia Calvina's age only,
which hindered her being received as a veftal ;
fince he attempts to render her reception into their
college probable, by making the people of Rome
difpenfe with her age ; a fuppofition highly ridicu
lous, with refpect to thofe times, when the people
had no longer the power of enacting laws. But
not to mention that Julia was of too advanced
an age to be received as a veftal, there were fe
veral other reafons, which rendered her being ad-
» Tacitus, Ann. 1. 12, mitted

Poet r y find Pa in ting. 205
¦mitted into their college impoffible. In fine, this
fact is refuted by all the accounts we have from
hiftory, of the life of Junia Calvina. I think it
alfo wrong in Racine to raife Narciffus from the
dead, (a perfonage, whofe fame in the Roman
hiftory rivals that ©f the moft illuftrious confuls)
to make him one .of the actors of his piece. Ta
citus informs Us, that Agrippina obliged this eele-
•brated freed-man tomake away with himfelf a few
days after Nero commenced his reign.
There are feveral other errors of the fame na
ture in Britannicus, but a great many more in
the tragedy df Berenice. Raoine makes Titus
•enlarge the territories of this princefs. He men
tions her dominions in above twenty different
places, whereas fhe was never miftrefs of ei
ther kingdpm or principality. She had the title
of queen, either becaufe fhe had been married
to crowned heads, or by reafon of her being a
king's daughter ; for the cuftom of gbring the
title of queens to 'kings daughters, was received
in feveral countries, and even in France. Racine
fuppofes, that his Antiochus, that very Antiochus
who was wounded in a 'battle fought between the
armies of Otho and Vitellius, was king of Co-
magena under the -reign -of Titus ; notwithftand
ing we are informed by hiftory, that the father of
this unfortunate prince wasthe'laftrking of Coma-
gena. He had been fufpected, under the reign
of Vefpafian, the father and predeceffor of Titus,
of carrying on a fecret correfpondence with the
Parthians ; wherefore he was forced to make his'
efcape,

206 Critical Reflections on
efcape, he and his children, (of whom Racine's
Antiochus was one,) into Parthia, to avoid falling
into the hands of Cefennius Pastus, who had or
ders to fecure them. Partus took poffeffion of
Comagena, which was from that time afterwards
reduced into a province of the empire. Thus
we find, that upon the acceffion of Titus to the
throne, Antiochus Epiphanes had taken fhelter
among the Parthians ; confequently there was no
fuch thing at that time as a king of Comagena.
Our poet tranfgreffes alfo againft truth, in the
following lines of Paulinus, whom Titus charges,
as his intimate friend, to tell him his opinion with
regard to the marriage of Berenicei where he
makes him fay,
Des fers de Claudius Felix encore ftetri
De deux reines, feigneur, devenir le mari,
Et s' il fauljufque 'au bout que je vous obeiffet
Ces deux reines etoient du fang de Berenice.
Felix in fetters bound by dire command
Of Claudius, liv'd to tafte the nuptial joys
With two fair queens, and fince I muft proceed,
Thofe queens, great fir, of Berenice's blood.
This Felix, fo well known from the hiftories of
Tacitus and Jofephus, was never married to more
than one queen or lady of blood royal, which
was Drufilla. 'Tis true, fhe was of the blood
of Berenice, for fhe was her own fifter.
I fhould

Poetry and Pa i nting. 207
I fhould not therefore tax a perfon with pedantry,
becaufe bf his finding fault with Racine for com
mitting fuch a number of miftakes, contrary to
fo authentic and well known a hiftory, as that
of the firft emperors of the Romans ; as- likewife
for falling into feveral geographical errors, which
he might have eafily avoided. Such is the mif-
take he makes Mithridates, guilty of, when ex-
pofing his project of paffing over into Italy, and
of furprizing Rome, he fays to his fens,
Doutez-vous que TEuxin ne me porte en deux
jours ?
Aux lieux ou le Danube y vient finir fon cours ?
And doubt you, then, that e'er two days expire*
The winds will waft us o'er the Euxine main
To Danube's mouth ?
They might very well doubt it, becaufe the thinj*
was abfolutely impoffible, fays a prince, who has
commanded armies on the banks of the Danube,
and who, like Mithridates, has preferved the re
putation of a Great general in the different viciffi-
tudes of fortune. Mithridates's fleet, to fet out
from the neighbourhood of Afaph, and from the
ftreights of Caffa, where Racine fixes the fcene of
-his piece, had a paffage of near three hundred
leagues to make, before they could reach the banks
of the Danube. Veffels that keep together in one
fleet, and have no other method of advancing but by

208 Critical Reflections on
by oars and fails, could never expect to be lefs
than eight or ten days in this voyage Here Ra
cine, without tny danger of ftripping Mithri-
daiCes's enderprize of the marvelous, might have
given his army fix months march, before they could
pretend to reach the city of Rome, from whence
they were feven hundred leagues diftant. But ths
verfe where Mithridates fays,
Je votis rends dans trois mois aux pieds du
Capitole.
In three months time I'll lead my martial bands
To Rome's great Capitol,
muft naturally fhock thofe, that have any know
ledge of the diftance of places. Tho' the Greek
and Roman armies marched much more expedi-
tioufly than ours, yet certainly there never were
troops that could, for the fpace of three months,
without halting, advance eight leagues a day ;
efpecially were they to march thro' difficult paffes,
or thro' an enemy's, or at leaft thro' a fufpected
country, fuch as the moft part of thofe provinces
Were, thro' which Mithridates was to conduct his
army. Thefe forts of criticifms are generally handed
about upon the firft appearance of a new piece ;
and they are frequently improved, to the preju
dice of the poet, much more than he deferves.
Corneille is frequently guilty of the fame . inac
curacy and neglect as Racine. I fhall produce only

Poetry and Painting. 209
only one example, from the fpeech of Nicomedes
to Flaminius, arnbaffador from the Romans to
king Prufias his father. Nicomedes after having
reminded the arnbaffador, that Hannibal had
gained the battle of Trafimene over Flaminius,.
advifes him likewife not to forget,
£>$¦* autrefois ce grand homme,
Cemmenpa par fin pere a triompher de Rome.
That by his father' s former great defeat
'This hero began firft to conquer Rome.
But Titus Quintus Flaminius, he whom Nico
medes fpeaks to, and who had forced Hannibal to
have recourfe to poifon, was not the fon of that
Flaminius, who loft the battle of Trafimene % fo
far from. that, they Were of quite different tribes
and families. Flaminius defeated at Trafimene
Was a plebeian ; and the arnbaffador from the re
public to Prufias, and author of Hannibal's
death, was a patrician. Befides, the victory
of Trafimene / was not the firft fuccefs which
Hannibal obtained in Italy : It had been pre
ceded ,by the battle of Tre'oia, and by tha
famous battle of Ticinum both won by the re
nowned Carthaginian General, before he defeated
Flaminius near the lake of Perugia. I cannot
imagine- how Corneille fell into this miftake of
confounding the two Flaminius's ; efpecially as
the learned had made this objection long ago
Vol. I. P againft

210 Critical Reflec tiqnS on
againft the author of the lives of illuftrious
men attributed to Aurelius Victor.
'Tis true, the Greek tragedians have fometimes
committed the like miftakes ; but this is no argu
ment to juftify the faults of modern writers ; efpe
cially as the art might be well fuppofed to have
been carried in our times to a higher degree of
perfection. , Befides, the Greek tragedians have
been always cenfured for fuch errors, as prejudice
the likelihood of their fuppofitions, by contra
dicting known and authentic truths. Paterculus*
charges thofe poets with being guilty of a very
grofs error, only for giving the name of Theffaly
to that part of Greece, which was afterwards fo
called, at a time when it had not as yet received
that denomination. In fact, this is a miftake
which is fo much the more fhocking in the tra
gic poet, as he makes a perfon guilty of it,
who lived at a time when it was impoffible for
him to have fallen into fuch an error. We may
corroborate our fentiment further, with what Arik
totle b has obferved, in refpect to the hiftorical
Quo nomine mirari conmenit eh, qui Iliaca componentes tern-
fora, de ea regione ut Theffalia commemorant j quod cum alii fa-
ciant tragici, frequentijfimi faciunt, quibus minime id conceden-
dum eft, nihil enim fub perfona poeta, fed omnia fub eorum, qui
ilk tempore wxerunt, dixerunt. Paterc. 1. i. hift.
b Tb; te hiydi (*>} o-KnifacrSai ix. p.sgm uKoym, aM.a [A.d>.ira
to fir] Iitssnat e»( Actio; ditiiasit' aKhx. /mi a To ^djuxll, uo-wtf
h 'HKsxlftgoi T« Ilyfiia airccyRMwIis, Arist. Poet. cap. 24.
proba-

Poe try and Painting! 2 if
probability, which ought tP be obferVed in poems.
He blames thofe who pretend, that an exactnefs
in conforming to this probability, is an ufelefs af
fectation; and he even condemns Sophocles for
caufing it to be proclaimed in the tragedy of Elec-
tra, that Oreftes had killed himfelf at the Pythian
games j whereas thofe games were not inftituted,
till feveral Centuries after the time of Oreftes. But
it is a much eafier matter for poets to treat this
fcrupulous exaclnefs as pedantry, than to acquire
a proper fhare of knowledge for preventing them
from falling into fuch miftakes, as that with which
Ariftotle reproaches Sophocles.

CHAP. XXX.
Of probability in painting ; and of the regard
which painters ought to have for received
traditions,
PRobability, in painting, is of two forts, poe
tic and mechanic. The latter confifts in
reprefenting nothing but what is poffible, accord
ing to the laws of motion, and of optics.
This mechanic probability confifts in attributing
no other effects to light, but fuch as it Would have
naturally produced: for inftance, it fhould not
throw its rays on thofe- bodies, which it is hin
dered from falling upon by the interpofition of
P 2 others. ¦

212 Critical Reflections on
others. It confifts in not deviating, fenfibly
from the natural proportion of bodies, in not be
llowing a greater force and weight upon them,
than they are naturally fuppofed to have. A pain
ter would act contrary to thofe laws, were he to
make a perfon, whom he reprefents in an attitude;
that leaves him mafter of one half only of his
ftrength, to lift up fuch a weight, as requires the
whole collected force of a man to move. Much
lefs fhould he draw a figure with a huge piece of a
pillar, or fome other exceffive burthen on his back j
fuch as even Hercules's fhoulders would find too
heavy. But were we to fuppofe (fome will fay)
thefe figures to be good or evil genius's, whofe
power far furpaffes all human abilities ; the thing
is then reconcileable to probability. To which I
anfwer, that the painter in that fuppofition may
have reafon indeed on his fide ; but he muft ex
pect the fenfes againft him. Now which ought
he to endeavour chiefly to pleafe ? But I fhall
not enter here upon what regards more particu
larly this mechanic probability, fince the fpecial
rules thereof are to be found in books that treat of
the art of painting.
The poetic probability confifts in giving the
perfonages fuch paffions as fuit them beft, accord
ing to their age, dignity, temperament, and to
the intereft they are fuppofed to have in the action.
It confifts in obferving what the Italians call it
eoftume, that is, in conforming to what we know
of the particular manners, dreffes, buildings, and
arms of the people we intend to reprefent. In fine, is

Poetry and Painting. 213
it confifts in giving the perfonages of a picture
their known face and charafler, (if they have one)
whether this character be copied from portraits, ,
or whether it intirely owes its origin to the ima
gination. We ffiall prefently have occafion to
fpeak more at large of thefe known characters.
Tho' all the fpectators in a picture become fo
many actors, yet the vivacity of their action ought
to be in proportion only to the intereft they have
in the event at which they are prefent. Thus
a foldier, who affifts at the facrifice of Iphi
genia, ought to be moved but not near fo
much as the brother of the victim. A woman
that is prefent at the judgment of Sufanna, and
who neither by her air or lineaments, has the
appearance of being her filler or mother ought
not to fhew the fame fymptoms of grief as
a very near relation. A young man ought to
demonftrate a greater eagernefs in his applaufe,
than a perfon far advanced in years. Even the
attention to the fame thing, differs in proportion
to the difference of age. A young man fhould
appear quite wrapt up in a fpectacle, which a
¦ perfon of experience ought to behold with a very
indifferent attention. A fpectator, who is favoured
with the countenance of a man of parts, ought
. not to gaze on a thing with fuch an air of admi
ration, as one that is characterifed with a ftupid
phyfiognomy. A king's furprize fhould not be
like that of a vulgar fellow. One who hears a
, thing at fome diftance, ought not to be in the
fame attitude as a perfon that is juft by. A man
P3 of

214 Critical Reflections on
of fpirit and vivacity, does not liften with the
fame pofture and air, as an hypochondriac per
fon. The refpect and attention which the court
of a Perfian Sophi pays their mafter, muft be ex-
preffed by fuch outward demonftrations, as would
be deemed unfuitable to the refpect of the peo
ple of Rome for their confuls. The dread of
a Have is unlike that of a freeman ; and the
fear of a woman differs from that of a foldier.
Were the latter to fee the heavens rent afunder,
he fhould not be fo much frightened as a perfon
of another condition of life. A violent fright
is allowed to ftrike a woman motionlefs ; but a
foldier amazed, ought to throw himfelf directly
into a fighting pofture, at leaft by a mechanical
movement. The uneafinefs a man of courage
feels, upon being feized with a violent pain, may
be painted indeed on his countenance •, yet it
fhould have a different appearance from that which
is drawn on a female vifage. The anger of a
choleric man is not the fame as that of a melan
choly perfon.
There is a famous piece of Julio Romano on
the great altar of the little church of St Stephen
at Genoa, which reprefents the martyrdom of this
faint, The painter expreffes here moft admi
rably well the difference between the natufa^
actions of perfons of different temper and com
plexion, who are a&uated by the fame paffion j
infomuch that one may eafily perceive, that this"
execution was not performed by hired officers,
but by the inflamed fuperftitious multitude. One
4 Of

Poe try and Paintin g. 215
of thofe murdering Jews has reddifh hair, a frefh
complexion, and, in fhort, all the marks of a
choleric fanguine man, and feems quite tranf-
ported with paffion. His mouth and noftrils gape
prodigioufly wide ; and his gefture is intirely that
of a furious fellow ; wherefore he ftands tip-toe
upon one leg, in order to fling his ftone with
greater impetuofity. Another, whofe melancholy
difpofition is vifible from the meagernefs of his
body, from the lividnefs of his complexion, and
from the darknefs of his hair-, is placed next to the
former, and contracts his whole body to level his
ftone at the head of the faint. One may eafily
perceive, that his hatred and virulency is more
violent than that of the former, tho' his carriage
does not exprefs fo great a tranfport of fury. His
anger towards a man condemned by the law, and
whom he helps to execute from a religious prin--
ciple, is not lefs violent for being of a different
fpecies. The wrath of a General fhould be different
from that of a common foldier. In fhort, the
fame may be faid of all the fentiments and paf
fions. If I do not chufe to expatiate any longer
upon this fubject, 'tis becaufe I have already faid
too much for fuch as have ever reflected upon
the grand art of the expreffions ; and becaufe
I know 'tis impoffible for me to fay enough for
thpfe, who have never made any fuch reflection.
The poetic probability confifts likewife in a
conformity to thofe rules, which we, as well as the
Italians, comprife under the name of il coftumj; -,
P 4 a con-

216 Critical Reflections on
a conformity which adds fo much merit to Pouf
fin's pieces. Purfuant to thefe rules, if we have
any notion of the places where the action has
happened, we muft reprefent them fuch as they
really were •, but if we have no diftinct know
ledge of them, we muft take care, while we form
their difpofition from fancy, to avoid contradict
ing what others may chance to know of them.
The fame rules require alfo, that we give to fuch
different nations, as commonly appear -in the
fcenes of pictures, their peculiar color of face
and habit of body which they are faid to have
in hiftory. 'Tis even commendable in reprefent
ing an event that has happened in any particular
place, to pufh our probability fo far, as to ob
serve what we know with regard to the animals
of that country. Pouffin, who has treated fe
veral actions, whofe fcenes were fuppofed to be in
/Egypt, has generally introduced fuch buildings,
trees, and animals into his pieces, as for feveral
reafons are judged to be particular to that kingdom.
Monfieur le Brun has ¦ conformed to thofe rules,
with the moft fcrupulous punctuality, in his pieces
of the hiftory of Alexander. The Perfians and
Indians are as eafy to be diftinguiffied from the
Greeks' by their phyfiognomies, as by their arms.
Even their horfes are not fhaped like thofe of the
Macedonians ; for the Perfian horfes are reprefent
ed- of a more delicate make, as they really are.
I have heard Monfieur Perrault affirm, that his
friend Le Brun had ordered a fketch of fome
Perfian horfes to be fent to him from Aleppo, in
order

Poetry. and Painting* 217
order to obferve . that particular part of the cop
tume in his pieces. 'Tis true, he was miftaken
with refpect to the head of Alexander the very firft
timehe drew him .; which was in the piece thatref
prefects ¦ the queens of Perfia at the feet of that
moriarch. Inftead of Alexander's head, fomebody
had given him the head of Minerva on a medal,
on the reverfe of which the name of Alexander
was engraven. This prince therefore, contrary
to hiftorical truth, appears in this picture with the
air and refemblance of a female beauty. But. Le
Brun corrected afterwards his miftake, upon being
apprized- of it, and has given us the true head
of Alexander in the picture of his paffage s£
the Granicus, and in that of his entrance into
, Babylon. He had borrowed his idea from
the buft of this prince upon a pillar in one of
the groves of Verfailles, which had been changed
by fome modern fculptor into a Gallic Mars,
by putting a cock upon its head-piece. This
buft, as well as the pillar, which is of oriental
alabaftfer, was brought from Alexandria.
The poetic probability requires alfo, that na
tions fhould be reprefented, with their peculiar
apparel* arms and ftandards :- ; That in the Athe
nian colors, there fhould be theN figure of an owl ;
-in the ./Egyptian colors, the ftork ; and the eagle
in the Roman enfigns : And in fhort, that there
be a conformity obferved to fuch of their cuftoms,
as bear a relation to the action of the picture.
Thus a painter, who is to draw a picture of the
death of Britanriicus, muft not reprefent Nero and his

218 Critical Reflections on
his company fitting round a table, but reclining ori
couches. The cuftom of introducing fuch perfonages into
pictures, as cpuld never have been prefent at the
action, becaufe of their having lived in a different
period of time, is a very grofs error, from which
our painters are now pretty well recovered.
Thus we fee no more a St Francis liftening to th«
predication of St Paul ; nor a confeffor with &
crucifix in hand, exhorting the good thief.
In fine, the poetic probability obliges a painter
to give his perfonages their known and received
air, whether this air has been tranfmitted to us by
medals, ftatues, or portraits ; or whether it has
been preferved by fome tradition, whereof we
know not the origin ; or whether, in fine, it was
introduced by fancy. Tho' we have no certain
knowledge of St Peter's perfon, yet painters and
fculptors have figned, as it were, a tacit conven
tion amongft themfelves, to reprefent him with a
particular air and fhape, whereby this faint is ea
fily diftinguiffied. In cafes of imitation, the re
ceived and general idea fupplies the place of truth.
What has been faid with regard to St Peter, may
be applied alfo to the figure in which feveral
other faints are drawn ; and even to that which is
commonly given to St Paul, thos it be not agre
able to the defcription this apoftle has left of his own
perfon. But that does not fignify, fince cuftom
has ordered it otherwife. A fculptor that would
attempt to reprefent St Paul lower, thinner, and
with a ihorter beard than St Peter, would be
blamed

Poetry and Painting. 219
blamed as much as Bandinelli was, for having
placed on one fide of the ftatue of Adam, which
he had made for the dome of Florence, a ftatue
of Eve taller than that of her hufhand1.
We find by the epiftles of Sidonius Apollinaris1'.
that the illuftrious philofophers of antiquity had
each of them their particular air, figure, and
gefture, which were peculiarly appropriated to
them in painting. Raphael has made a good
ufe of this piece of erudition from Apollinaris,
in his picture of the fchool of Athens. We learn
alfo from Quintilian0, that the antient painters
confined themfelves in their pictures of their
Gods and heroes to the fame phyfiognomies and
characters as they had been reprefented in by
A Thefe two fiatues are no longer in the cathedral church
of Florence, having been removed from thence in the year 1722.
by order of the grand duke Cofmus III. in order to be placed in
the great hall of the old palace. They have put in their fteada
group, which Michael Angelo had left imperfect, reprefenting
Chrift defending from the crofs.
b Per gymnafia pinguntur Zeufippus eervice eurva, Aratus
panda, Zenon fronte contraBa, Epicurus cute diftenta, Diogenes
barla comante, Socrates coma pendente, Ariftotehs brachio ex-
ferto, Xenocrates crure cnlleSo, tieraditus fietu oculis claufis,
Democritus labris apertis, Chryfippus digitis propter nume forum in
dicia conftriBis, Euclides propter menfurarum fpatia. laxatis,
Gleanthes propter utrumque corrofis. Sid. 1. 9. ep. 9.
c tile wro ita circumfcripfit omnia, ut eum legum latorem as
cent, quia Deorum & heroum effigies quales ah eo funt tradita,
cateri, tanquam ita necejjefit, fequuntur. Quint. Inft. I. 1«.
C. to. JSeuxis 5

220 Critical Reflections on
Zeuxis j which was the reafon of his being in-
titled the Legiflator.
The obferving of the probability appears to
me therefore, next to the, choice of the fubject,
the moft important article, either in a picture or
poem. Immediately after the obferving of the pro
bability comes the rule, which directs painters and
poets to draw up a judicious plan, and to range
their ideas in fuch a manner, as to have no dif
ficulty afterwards in difintricating their objects.

CHAP. XXXI.
Of the difpofition of the plan. That the ordon-
ance of pictures is to be divided into poetic
and picturefque compofitions.
Y reflections on the plan of poems fhall
be very fhort, tho' the fubject be of great
importance. Whatfoever relates to poems of any
great length, has been already handled in father
Boffu's treatife of the epic poem ; and in the
practice of .the ftage by abbot Aubignac ; as alfo
in the differtations which the great Corneille pre
fixed to hi« own pieces. As for the leffer works
of poetry, all that can be faid concerning them,
may be reduced to a very finall compafs. If they
contain the recital of an action, they fhould as
well as the pieces for the ftage, have an expofition
2 or

Poetry and Painting; 221
or entrance, an intrigue or plot, and an unravel
ling. If they contain no action, they muft have
a fenfible or a concealed order, and the thoughts
fhould be difpofed fo as to make us apprehend
them without difficulty, and even retain the fub
ftance of the work, as well as the force and pro
grefs of its reafonings.
With regard to painting, the ordbnnance there
of, or the firft arrangement of thofe objects which
fhould fill a picture, ought to be divided into pic
turefque and poetic compofitions.
I call picturefque compofition, the arrangement
of fuch objects as are to have place in a pic
ture, with regard to the general effect of the
piece. A good picturefque compofition is
that, whereof the firft glance produces a great
effedt, purfuant to the painter's intention, and to
the end he had in view. For this purpofe a
picture ought not to be ernbarrafled with fi
gures, tho' it fhould have enough to fill up the
picture. The objects ought to be eafy to be
difintricated ; wherefore the figures ffiould not
maim one another, by hiding mutually one half
of their heads, or of fome other parts of the
body, which the fubject requires to be rendered
vifible. 'Tis proper alfo that the groups be well
compofed ; that their light be diftnbuted judici-
oufly •, and that the local colors, inftead of de-
ftroying one another, be difpofed in fuch a man
ner, as the whole may afford of itfelf an agreable
harmony to the eye. The

222 Critical Reflections oti
The poetic compofition is an ingenious di£
pofition of the figures, calculated to ren
der the action it reprefents, more moving and
probable. It requires that all the perfonages be
connected by a principal action ; for a picture
may contain feveral incidents, provided all thefe
particular actions unite in one principal one, and
that, collected all together, they form but one
and the fame fubject. The rules of painting are
as much averfe to a duplicity of action, as thofe
of dramatic poetry. If painting be allowed to
have its epifodes like poetry, thofe epifodes ought
in pictures, as well as in tragedies, to be connected
with the fubject j and the unity of action fhould
be equally preferved in the production of a pain
ter as in that of a poet.
'Tis alfo proper, that the perfonages be placed
with judgment, and dreffed with decency, in pro
portion to their dignity and importance. The
father of Iphigenia, for example, ought not
to be concealed behind the other figures at the
lacrifice of this princefs : Nay, he fhould have
the moft remarkable place next to that of the
victim. Nothing is more unfupportable than
indifferent figures placed in the middle of a
picture. A foldier ought not to be as well dreffed
as his General, unlefs fome particular circum-
ftance fhould happen to require it. All the per
fonages, as we have already obferved, when fpeak
ing of the probability, ought to make fuch an ap
pearance as is fuitable to their circumftances j
and their expreffion fhould be agreable to the
character

Poet r y and Pa I n t i n g. 223
character in which they are drawn. But particular care
mould be taken to avoid introducing any idle fi
gures, that have no fhare in the principal action ;
for thefe do but confound and embarrafs the fpec
tator. Nor ought the artift to tranfgrefs againft
decency or probability, to favor his defigning or
coloring •, whereby he facrifices his poetry to the
mechanic part of his art.
The talents for poetic and picturefque compofi
tions are fo diftinct, that we obferve fome painters
excel in one, who are very ignorant of the other.
Paolo Veronefe, for inftance, has fucceeded ex
tremely well in that part of the ordonnance which
we call picturefque compofition. Never was
there a painter more dexterous in ranging a vaft
number of perfonages, on the fame fcene ih
placing his figures to an advantage, and in fine,
in filling up a large piece without any appearance
of confufion. And yet this fame Paolo Veronefe
has mifcarried in his poetic compofition. There
is no unity of action in the greateft part of his
pictures. One of his moft magnificent pieces,
the nuptials of Cana, which is to be feen at the
bottom of the refectory of the convent of St
George at Venice, is full of errors contrary to the
picturefque poetry. A fmall number only out of
a prodigious crowd of fpectators, with which it is
flocked, appear attentive to the miracle of the
converfion of the water into wine, which is the
principal fubject. Not one of them feems moved
with it, as much as might be naturally expecled.
Among the guefts, he has introduced fome Bene- dictin

224 Critical Reflections on
dictin monks belonging tb the convent that employ
ed him. Finally his perfonages are dreffed at ran
dom, and he contradicts, according to cuftom, the
pofitive and known accounts we have of the man
ners and cuftoms of the people frpm whom he has
taken his actors.
Monfieur de Piles, a great lover of paint
ing, and who ufed to handle the pencil him*
felf, has left us feveral tracts concerning this art,
which deferve to be univerfally known ; but one
of thefe pieces, which is intitled, The balance of
Painters, merits all the praifes due to original
works. Here he tells us diftinctly, to what de
gree of merit each painter he fpeaks of, has arriv
ed in every one of the four parts, into which
the art of painting is divided. Thefe are the
compofition, the defign, the expreffion, and the
coloring a. After having fuppofed, that the twen^
tieth degree of his balance, indicates the higheft
point of perfection in each of thofe parts j he
acquaints us what degree each painter has attain
ed to, But for want of diftributing the art of
painting into five: parts, and dividing what is cal
led ordonnance in general into, picturefque and
poetic compofitions, he falls into feveral unwarr
antable, propofitions, fuch as placing in the fame
degree of his balance Paolo Veronefe and Pouf
fin, in quality of compofers. And yet the Ita
lians themfelves allow, that Paolo Veronefe is no
way to be compared in the poetic part of paint
ing to Pouffin, who in his, life-time had the title
* Courfe -of painting, p. q&^i Of

Poetry and Painting. 225
of the painter of men of wit, the moft flattering
encomium that can be bellowed upon a painter.
This Paolo Veronefe is placed in our balance
in the fame rank with Monfieur Le Brun ; tho*
with regard to the poetic compofition, (the only
one here confidered) Le Brun might perhaps
have deferved to have been placed as high as
Raphael. There are in the king's apartment at
Verfailles, two excellent pictures oppofite to one
another, the pilgrims of Emmaiis by Paolo
Veronefe, and the queens of Perfia at the feet of
Alexander by Le Brun. A very flender atten
tion to thefe pieces will be fufficient to convince
us, that if the neighbourhood of Paolo Vero
nefe be dangerous to Le Brun with regard to the
Coloring, the French painter is a much more dan
gerous neighbour to the Italian, with refpect to
the picturefque poetry and the expreffion. 'Tis
not difficult to conjecture to whom Raphael would
have given the prize : in all appearance he
would have pronounced in favor of that kind
of merit, in which he excelled himfelf ; that is,
in favor of the expreffion and of the poetry. I
ffiould advife my reader to confult the firft vo
lume of Monfieur Perrault's parallels % where he
will, find a moft judicious examen of thefe twp
pieces. This gentleman, whofe memory will be
always reflected by thofe that knew him, notwith
ftanding what he wrote concerning the ancients,
was as capable of making a good comparifon be
tween the performance of Paplo Veronefe, -and
:a Page 255.
Vo l. I. Q_ that

226 Critical Reflections on
that of Le Brun, as he was incapable, according
to Mr- Wotton, of drawing a juft parallel be
tween the ancient and modern poets.

CHAP. XXXII.
Of the importance of fuch faults, as painters
and poets happen to commit, Contrary to their
rules.
AS the parts of a picture are always near
each other, fo as their intire affemblage
may be feen at one view -, the defects therefore
which occur in the brdonnance are a great
obftruction to the effect of its beauties. Its
relative faults are eafily perceived, upon our
having a collective view of thofe objects which
have not their due relation to one another. If
this fault confifts, like that of Bandinelli, in
the figure of a woman higher than that of a
man of equal dignity, it is eafily obferved by
reafon of the proximity of the figures. The
cafe is different with refpect to a poem of fome
extent. As we have only a fucceffive view of a
dramatic or epic poem, and as the fpace of feveral
days is required for reading the latter ; the defects
in the ordonnance, and in the diftribution of thefe
poems, are not fo obvious as the like faults in a
picture. To detect the relative errors of a poem,
a perfon muft recollect all that he has feen or
heard,

Poetr y and. Pain ti n g. 227
heard, and go back, as it were, the fame way, in
order to compare the objects that are defective in
relation or proportion. For example, one muft
remember, that the incident which forms the un
ravelling in the fifth act, has not been fufficiently
prepared in the preceding acts ; . or that a thing
faid by a perfonage in the fourth act, contradicts
the character given of him in the firft. This is
what dbes not occur always to every body, and
what feveral never take notice of. They do not
read a poem, to examine whether the author be
always confiftent with himfelf, but to have the
pleafure of being moved with it. They perufe
poems in the fame manner as they look at pic
tures, and are offended only with thofe, which
ftrike, as it were, their fenfe, and confiderably di-
minifh their pleafure.
Befides, the real defects of a picture, fuch as
a figure of too low a fize, a maimed arm, or a
perfonage who prefents Us a grimace inftead of a
natural expreffion, are always placed in conjunc
tion with its beauties. We do not behold the
parts that have been well executed by the painter,
feparate from thofe in which he has mifcarried.
Wherefore his defects hinder his perfections from
making fuch an impreffion upon us, as might be
otherwife expected. The contrary happens in a
poem, where even real imperfections, fuch as a
fcene deviating from the rules of probability, or
fuch as fentiments unfuitable to the fuppofed fitua
tion of a perfonage, give us a difrelifh only for
that part of the poem which they happen to dif-
r Q^ 2 figure y

2z8 Critical Reflections on
figure •, while they caft but a veryfmall fhade on
the neighbouring beauties.

CHAP. XXXIII.
Of the poetic ftile, in which words are confi
der ed asfigns of our ideas. That the fate
of poems depends on the poetic ftile.
THUS the beauty of every part of a poem,
I mean the method of treating each fcene,
as well as the manner in which the perfonages
explain themfelves, contributes more to the fuccefs
©f a work, than the juftnefs and regularity of its
plan, that is, than the union and dependance of
all the different parts which compofe a poem.
A tragedy, whofe fcenes particularly confideredi
are beautiful, tho' they happen to be ill connected*
muft fucceed better than a tragedy, whofe feeheS,
tho' well joined, are flat and infipid. Hence we
admire feveral poems that are far from being regu
lar ; but being fuftained by invention, and a fuH
poetic ftyle, they prefent us continually with af
fecting images, which engage our attention. The
Fenfible pleafure we receive from new beauties grow
ing up at every period, prevents our perceiving
part of the real defects of the piece, and in
clines us to excufe the others. 'Tis thus a man of
an amiable prefence makes us forget his imperfec
tions, and even fometimes his vices, during the
time

Poetry and Paintin g. 229
time we are feduced by the charms of his conver-
fation. He even influences us frequently to that de
gree, as to make us overlook the imperfections
and vipes in the general definition pf his cha
racter. The poetic flyle confifts in giving interefting fen
timents to thofe who are made to fpeak, and in
expreffing by figures and images capable of moving
us, that which would have no effect upon us, were
it related in the fimplieity pf a profe flyle.
The firft ideas which rife in the foul, upon its
receiving the impreffipn of fome lively affection,
and are commonly called fentiments, have a power
of affecting us, tho' expreffed in the fimpleft
terms, becaufe they fpeak the language of the
heart. Emilia therefore affects us, when fhe fays
in the plained words,
yaime encore plus Cinna, que je ne hais Augufte.
I lave my Cinna more than I deleft
¦ Anzuftu5'
A fentiment would even ceafe to be fo moving,
were it expreffed in magnificent terms, and with
pompous figures. Old Horatius, for example, would
not engage me fo much as he does, if, inftead of
dropping fimply the famous qu'ilmourut, that he
can die, he were to exprefs this fame fentiment
in a figurative flyle. The probability then would
be loft with the fimplieity of the expreffion. Where
affectation difcovers itfelf, there is an end of the
language of the heart. Agreable hereto Horace
%s, ' CU Et

230 Critical Reflections on
Et tragicus plerumque dolet fermone pedeftri.
1 Hor. de arte.
And tragedy in humble words muft weep,
The flyle muft fuppliant feem, and feem to creep.
Creech.
But the remarks which the perfonages make upon
their own and the fentiments of others, the reflec
tions of the poet, the recitals, the defcriptions, in
fhort all that is not properly fentiment, require, as
much as the nature of the poem and probability
will permit, to be reprefented to us by images
capable of fixing themfelves in our imagination.
I except from this general rule the recitals of
prodigious events, made juft after they have hap
pened. 'Tis likely that an ocular witnefs to thefe
events, fuch as ought to be employed in the
narration, was ftruck with a furprize from which
he has not yet recovered. It would be there
fore contrary to the rules of probability, for
him to ufe fuch figures in his recital, as occur
not £0 a perfon that i^ frightened, and who
has no thoughts of being pathetic. Befides,
thofe prodigious events require the poet's atten
tion to procure, as much as poffible, the fpecta
tors affent ; and one way of obtaining it is
to make them give the recital thereof in the
plaineft terms, and fuch as are the leaft capable of
rendering the perfon who fpeaks, liable to be
fufpected of exaggeration. But, as I have juft
now obferved, exclufive of thofe two cafes, the
poetic flyle ought to be filled with figures' fo per-
4 fectly

Poetry W Painting. 231
fectly defcriptive of its objects, as to render it
impoffible for us to hear them, without having
our imaginations filled with a continued fucceffion
of images, in proportion as the periods of the dif
courfe follow one another.
Every kind of poem has fomething particular
in its flyle. The greateft part of the images, with
which the flyle of tragedy muft be fed, are" too
grave for that of comedy ; at leaft the comic
writer ought to make a very fober ufe of them.
He fhould never employ them, unlefs it be juft to
make Chremes fpeak, when this perfonage falls only
for a moment into a tragic paffion. We have
already obferved, that eclogues borrowed their de
fcriptions and images from fuch objects as adorn
the fields, and from the occurrences of a country
life. The poetic ftile of fatyr ought to be fupport-
ed with images propereft for exciting our bile.
The ode foars up to the heavens, to borrow there
its images and comparifons from the thunder, from
the flars, and from the Gods themfelves. But thefe
are things, whereof experience has already in-
ftructed fuch as are lovers of poetry.
We muft therefore be brought to imagine, that
we behold, as it were, the object we only hear
defcribed in verfe. Ut pittura poefts, fays Horace.
Cleopatra would not fo much engage pur attention,
were the poet to make her fay in a profe ftyle, to
her brother's deteftable minifters : " Tremble, ye
" wretches ! Csefar, the avenger of crimes,, is
" approaching with his victorious army." Her
thought takes a much grander turn, and appears
Q_4 with

232 Critical Reflections on
with a far greater degree of the fublime, when it
is clad with poetic figures, and puts the inftru-
ment of Jove's vengeance into the hands of Csefar.
The following verfe %
Tremblez, mechans, tremble* ; ypff-i venir la
foudre.
Tremble, ye villains ; here comes the thunder ;
tremble ! ,
fhews Casfar armed with thunderbplts, with which
he pours out his vengeance againft the murderers
of Pompey. To fay in plain terms, that there is
no great merit in gaining the affections of a man
who is of an amorous difpofition ; but that it is
a fine thing to make a perfon fall in love, who
has never fhewn any propenfity towards this paf
fion ; would be only a common truth, which would
hardly engage our attention. But when Racine puts
this very truth into the mouth of Aricia, and im-
bellifh.es it with all the ornaments of his poetic flyle,
it becomes moft delightful and charming : We
are raviffied with the images in which the poet tXr-
preffes himfelf; and the thought, trivial as it is
in profe, is formed by his verfes into an eloquent
fpeech, which ftrikes our imagination, and im
prints it felf on our memory.
Pour moi, je fuis plus fiere, & fuis la gloire
aijee,
D'drracher un hcmmage a mille autres offert,
Et d'entrer dans un cosur de teutes parts euvert.
Mais de faire fiechir un courage in flexible,
¦ The death of Pompey.
a De

Poetry end Paint ing. 233
De porter la douleur dans une ame infenfible,
D'enchainer un daptif de fes fers fromS,
Contre unjoug qui M plait vainement mutin),
Voild ce qui me plait, voila ce qui m'irriti.
But I thefe eafy conquefls can dejpife.
To force a tribute from a vulgar breaft,
Orftorm a beariHhat* s open on all fides.
But te fubdue a proud obdurate mind,
To give a fenfe of pain to cruel fouls,
To lead a captiv,e at. bis chains furpnz'd^
Rebelling vainly 'gainfi a plmftng yoke,
This is my chief ambition ofnd delight.
Thefe verfes imprint five different images in our
imagination. Were a perfon to tell us, in fimple terms,
" I fhall die in the village where I was horn ;'•
his fpeech would have nothing in it that is
affecting. Deiath is the fate of all mankind,
and to finjfh one's days in the place where
they began, is a Jot referved for the happieft of
mortals, The abbot Chaulieu prefents us never--
thelefs with this very thought, dreffed up in images
that, render it extremely moving.
Fontenay, lieUx delicieux,
Ouje vis. dfabord la lumiere,
Bient6t au bmt de ma earriere
* Chez tei je jeindrai mes ayeux.
$Ay,fesx qui dans ce lieu champttre,
Avec fqin.me fites nourrir,
Beaux drbres qui m'avez vu naitre,
Bientot veus me verrez mourir* O Fontenay!

234 C R I T-I CA L R E F L E/CT I ON S Ofi ,
O Fontenay ! thou fweet retreat !
Where firft I breath' d this vital air ',
Amidft thy fhades relentlefs fate,
Will quickly flop life's full career.
Te Mufes, who firft deign' d to fold
My infant limbs, and form my heart,
Te trees, ye flow' rs ! you'll foon behold,
This fleeting foul from hence depart.
Thefe apoftrophes make me imagine I behold the
poet in converfation with the Deities and groves
of the place. Methinks I fee them touched
with the tidings he brings ; and the impreffion
he makes on them, raifes a like emotion in my
bofom. The art of moving and perfuading mankind,
confifts principally in knowing how to make a
good ufe of thefe images. The very fevereft
writer, who profeffes moft ferioufly, that he in
tends to employ nothing but plain reafon to con
vince us, foon finds, that to carry his point he
muft move us ; and that, for- this end, he muft
fet before us the pictures of the objects he treats
of. Father Mallebranche, one of the greateft
fticklers for ftrict reafoning we have had in
France, has wrote againft the contagious diforder
of ftrong imaginations, whofe art of feducing
confifts in the fecundity of their images, and in
the talent they have of giving a lively picture
of their objects \ But you muft not expect dry
reafonings in this father's difcourfe, fuch as exclude
* Inquiry after truth, Book 2. Part 3. all

Poetry and Painting! 235
all figures capable of moving and feducing us, and
are ftrictiy confined to the fole ftrength and effi
cacy of argument. This very difcourfe is full of
images and pictures, With which he fpeaks to our
imagination againft the abufe of the imagination.
The poetic flyle conflitutes the principal diffe
rence between verfe and profe. Numbers of me
taphors, that would be efteemed too bold in the
moft elevated oratorial flyle, are received into
poetry. Images and figures ought likewife to be
more frequently admitted in moft forts of poetry,
than in oratorial difcourfes. That rhetoric, which
attempts to convince our reafon, muft always
•preferve an air of moderation and fincerity. The
cafe is otherwife with refpect to poetry, whofe chief
aim is to move us, preferable to every other con-
fideration, and whp will grant, if you defire it,
that fhe is frequently defective in fincerity. 'Tis
therefore the flyle that forms the poet, and not
the rhime and the casfura'. According to Horace,
pne may be a poet tho' he writes in profe ; and
feveral are frequently profe-authors, tho' they
write in yerfe. Quintilian gives fo complete an
explication of the nature and ufe of images and
figures towards the end of his eighth book,
and in the beginning of the following, that he
leaves nothing to be done after him, except it be
to admire his good fenfe and penetration.
This moft important part of poetry is at the
fame time the moft difficult. A poet has need of
a divine fire, not for rhime, but for the inventing
pf images capable of reprefenting perfectly what he

236 Critical Reflections on
he intends to fay, and for finding expreffionS
proper to give them an exaftence. An indiffe
rent poet may by dint of confutation, and labor
form a regular plan, and beftow a decency
of manners upon his perfonages ; but 'tis he on
ly who is bleffed with the genius of the art, that
is capable of fupporting his verfes with continual
fictions, and with frefh images rifing at every pe
riod. A man of no genius, falls quickly into a fri
gidity, owing to figures which have no juftnefs, and
convey no clear idea of their object ; or ¦ elfe he
dwindles into the ridicule arifing from figures
quite difproportionable to" the fubject. Such, for in-
ftance, are the figures ufed by the Carmelite author
of the poem of St Mary 'Magdalen, which fre
quently form grotefque images, where the poet
ought to prefent us with fuch only as are of
a ferious nature. The advice of a ; friend may
indeed prevail upon us to fupprefs fome impro
per or ilhcpntrived figures j but it cannot infpire
us with a genius neceffary for the, inventing of
fuch as are proper for our purpofe. A friend's
affiftance, as we fhall obferve when we come to
treat pf genius, cannot make a poet ; the moft
it can do, is to help to improve him.
A very flender reflection on the fate of French
poems publiffied within thefe fourfcore years, will
be fufficient to convince us, that the principal me
rit of a poem confifts in the agreement and con
tinuity of fuch images and pictures as are there
difplayed. The character of the poetic ftyle
has always1 decided the good or bad fuccefs '¦ of
poems.

Poetry tmd Pain ting. 237
poems, even of thofe which, by their length,
feeril to have the greateft dependance on the
ceconomy of the plan* on the distribution of the
action, and on the decency of the manners.
There are two tragedies Written by the great
Corneille, whofe ceconomy and Moft part of the
characters are extremely defective ; which are the
Cid, and the death of Porfipey. One might even
conteft with the latter piece the title of tragedy.
The public notwithftanding, charmed with the
flyle of thefe pieces, cannot help admiring them,
and even prefer them to 'feveral others, whofe
manners are fuperioi', and whofe plan is regular.
All the critical arguments in the world will ne
ver Convince them, that they are ffiiftaken in tak
ing thofe two tragedies for exceliint pieces-, which,
for thefe foUrfoore years, have conftantly drawn
tears from the fpectators. But as the author of
the' Englifh tragedy of Cato fay's : EngUp poets
have 'fucceeded Much better in the fiyU than in thd
fettiimVnt-s if their tragedies. Their <langttage is
very often noble and fonorous, but the ftnft 'either
very trifling or very common. On the conWary*, in the
ancient tragedies, and indeed in thofe of Corneille-.
and Racine, tho' the expreftions are very great, it
is the thought that bears them up and fwells them.
For my own part, I prefer a noble fentiment that
is depreffed with homely language, infinitely be
fore a vulgar one that is blown up with all the
found and energy of language \
» Special or, April 14, 1711, N° 39.
The

238 Critical Reflections In
The Maid of Orleans written by Chapelain, and-
Clouis done by Defmarets, are epic poems, whofe
conftitution and manners are unqueftionably fii
perior to thofe of the two tragedies above-men-.
tioned. Befides, their incidents, which form the
moft agreeable part of our hiftory, ought to be
much more engaging with regard to the French
nation, than events that have happened a great
while ago in Spain or Egypt. And yet every
body knows the ill fuccefs of thofe two epic
poems ; which we can attribute to nothing elfe,
but to the defect of their poetic flyle. One fcarce
finds in either of them a natural fentiment capa
ble of engaging us.
With regard to the images, Defmarets bufies
himfelf everywhere in chalking out chimeras ; and
Chapelain, in his barbarous flyle, draws none but
lame and imperfect figures. All their paintings
feem to be from Gothic originals. Hence pro
ceeds the only defect of the Maid of Orleans, a
defect which, as Boileau fays, even its greateft ad-;
vocates muft agree to ; which is, that it will not.
bear reading.

CHAP.

Poetry and Paint ing. 239
CHAP. XXXIV.
Of the motive of reading poetry : that rea
ders do not look for infiructions in poems, as
in other books.
THE gentlemen of the profeffion are the
only people who make a regular ftudy
of the reading of the poets. We have obferved
already, • that the generality of thofe, who have
done with the college difcipline, read them only
for amufement ; and not, as one reads hiftorians
and philofophers, for inftruction. 'Tis true there
may be ufeful leflbns drawn fometimes from the
perufal of a poem ; yet it is not the utility of
thofe leflbns that engages people to read it.
We are therefore actuated by a quite contrary-
motive in reading a poem, from what we are in
perufing any other booh. In reading a hiftory,
for example, we look upon its flyle, as only an
acceffary part. The matter of importance is its
truth and the Angularity of thofe facts, with which
it acquaints us. In perufing a poem, we do not
confider the infiructions we may chance to receive
from thence as the principal part. 'Tis the ftyle
that is of the greateft importance, for the plea
fure and amufement of the reader arife from
thence. Had the poetic ftyle of the romance
of Telemachus been flat and infipid, very few
readers

240 Critical Reflections on
readers would be at the trouble of reading the
whole work thro', were it even to abound with
the fame ufeful inftfuctiohs.
It fhould be. obferved, that I have ,fpoken
here, with regard only to thofe that profeffedfy
ftudy ; for, as tP fuch as read Chiefly for amufe
ment, and fecondly for inftruction. (which is never
thelefs the ufe that three parts out of four make
of their reading) they chufe rather to read hifto
rical books written in an engaging ftyle, than
ill-written hiftories, tho' full of exactnefs and eru
dition: Numbers are directed by this tafte, even
in the choice of philofophical works, and pf book?
of other fciences of a more ferious nature than
philofophy-. Hence it is eafy to judge, whether
the public ought not to conclude that poem to be
the beflj which affords them moft pleafure*
Men therefore, who read poems only to amufe
themfelves agreably with fictions, are carried
away of courfe by the actual pleafure of read
ing. They ; give way to the impreffions they
receive from that part of the poem which
*hey: are actually ingaged in. When a paf
fage ftrikes their -fancy, they never fufpend their
pleafure to reflect, whether it contains no de
feats contrary to rules. IT they happen to light
on fome very . grofs and palpable error, their
pleafure is indeed for thai mjnute interrupted.
They may chance to rail then againft the poet ;
but they ate foon reconciled to him, when, they
have got over the defective paffage, and have re
commenced

Poetry dnd Painting. 24!
tommenced to tafte the pleafure of new beauties.
Actual pleafure, which has fo great an empire over
man, as to make him forget paft misfortunes, and
render him blind to future Calamities, may cancel
the memory of the moft ffiocking blunders of
a poem, when they are once out of fight. With
refpect to thofe relative faults which are difcover-
ed only by gPing back and reflecting upon what
we have feen, they caufe but a very fmall abate
ment in the pleafure of the reader or the fpecta
tor, even when he reads or fees the piece, after
having been previoufly inftructed of its defects.
Thofe who have read the criticifms on the Cid,
are not the lefs pleafed with the acting of this
tragedy. In fact, an event which a tragic poet has left
too eafy to be forefeen, by giving it a coarfe pre
paration, will be capable neverthelefs of moving
us, if it be well managed. Though the events in
Polieuctes and Athalia do not really furprize fuch
as have frequently feen thofe tragedies, yet they
always draw tears from the fpectators. The mind
feems to forget the particular events of a tragedy
whofe fable it is acquainted with, in order to have
a more perfect enjoyment of the pleafure arifing
from the furprize caufed by thofe unexpected events.
Something of this nature muft certainly be the
cafe ; for, after having feen the tragedy of Mithric
dates twenty times acted, one is as much ftruck
with the fudden return of this prince, when an
nounced at the end of the firft act, as if this inci-<
dent of the piece occafioned a real furprize. Our
Vol. I R memory

242 Critical Reflections on
memory therefore appears fufpended at the fpecta-
cle, and we feem to have no defire of coming at
the knowledge of the events before they are made
public. We avoid anticipating our intelligence 5
and, as what we have feen at other reprefenta-
tions efcapes our memories, fo we may likewife for
get what a poet's indifcretion has made him prema
turely reveal. Does the allurement of pleafure find
it fo difficult a tafk to flifle the voice of reafon ?
In fine, if the charms of coloring are fo pow
erful, as to make us fall in love with Baffano's
pieces, notwithftanding the enormous faults with
which they abound, contrary to ordonnance and
defign, and contrary to poetic and picturefque
probability •, if, I fay, the charms of coloring make
us admire them, tho' thefe very faults are before
our eyes at the time we commend them ; one may
eafily conceive how the allurements of a poetic
ftyle can fufpend the memory of fuch defects as
we have perceived in the perufal of a poem.
From what has been hitherto explained, it fol
lows, that the beft poem is that which engages us
moft ; that which bewitches us fo far, as to conceal
from us the greateft part of its faults, and to
make us even willingly forget thofe we have
feen, and with which we have been offended.
Now a poem engages us always in proportion to
the charms of its ftyle. Hence people will always
prefer a poem, that moves them, to a regular
piece; and hence- we prefer the Cid to fo many
Other tragedies. If we have a mind therefore to
reduce things to their true principle, 'tis by the
. , ftyle

Poetry and Painting. 445
ftyle we muft form a judgment of the poem,
rather than by its regularity and decency of
manners. Our neighbours the Italians have two epic
poems in their language, the * Gierufalemme li-
berata of Taffo, and the b Rolando furiofo of
Ariofto, which, like the Iliad and JEneid, are
received and read in all parts of Europe. Taf-
fo's poem is commended for the decency of its
manners, the fuitablenefs and dignity of its cha
racters, the oeconomy of its plan; and, in a
word, the regularity of the piece. I fhall men
tion nothing concerning the manners, characters,
decency, and plan of Ariofto's poem. Homer
was a geometrician in comparifon to him, and
every body knows the title c which cardinal d'Efte
gave to the fhapelefs affemblage of ill-patched
ftories which compofe the Rolando furiofo. The
unity of action is fo little obferved, that they
have been obliged in the later editions, to point
out by a marginal note placed near the paffage
where the poet interrupts his ftory, the part of
the poem where he recommences it, that the
reader may follow the thread of the narration.
This has been of great fervice to the public ; for
Ariofto is feldom read twice in order, that is,
a ferufalem deli'vered.
b Mad or frantic Rowland.
c The cardinal's compliment to Ariofto, upon the reading
-of his poem, was, ove diavolo, mefier Lodovico, hai irovato
tante caglionorie f that is, Where tbp devil, Lewis, did you find
fuch a heap of trumpery and rtfbbi/h ?
R 2 paffing

«244 Critical Reflections' on
paffing from the firft canto to the fecond, aria*
from the fecond to the reft fucceffivefy, but by
following, without any regard to the order of the
books, the different ftories, which he has rather
incorporated than united. Neverthelefs the Ita^
Hans', generally fpeaking, prefer Ariofto confide-
rably to Taffo. The academy of the Crufca,
after having examined the caufe in form, has made
an authentic dedfion, which adjudges the firft
feat to Ariofto among the Italian epic poets. The
moft zealous advocate for Taffo a acknowledges
he attacks the general opinion, and that the pub
lic has already given it in favor of Ariofto, fe-
duced by the bewitching charms of his poetic
ftyle. In this refpect it certainly furpaffes the
poetry of Taffo''s Jerufalem, whofe figures are
frequently unfuitable to the paffage, to which
he applies them,- and have oftentimes more fhow
than truth. I mean (hat they furprize and
dazzle the imagination, but do not draw fuch
images as are proper to engage us. This is
what Boileau Calls the tinfel of Taffo, a cenfure
that has been generally approved of, except by
fome few of Taffo' s own countrymen. As for
the poet himfelf,- from whom the dreams of this
opera are taken, fays Mr. Addifon, fpeaking
of an Italian opera, the fubject whereof had been
borrowed of Taffo, I m.uft intirely agree with
Monfieur Boileau that one verfe in Virgil is worth
all the clincant or tinfel of Taffo b. 'Tis true
* Camillo Pellegrini, p. 1 1 .
* Spectator the 6th of March, N*. 5. not-

• Poetry and Pa i n t i n g. 24^-
notwithftanding, if I be allowed, to continue the
figure, that we difcover very. frequently the fineft
gold intermixt with this tinfel.
It would be in vain to attempt to make the Ita*
lians alter their opinion upon this point ; and were
a foreigner to take it into his head tp cenfure their
depravity of tafte, 'tis uncertain what anfwer they
would make. Perhaps, their reply would be the
fame as that which was made by our predeceffors,
when endeavours were ufed to diminifh their
efteem for the Cid. Other people's reafonings,
jthey faid, may perfuade us indeed to the contrary '
of what we think, but npt of what we feel. Now
pur very fenfes tell us, which poem affords us
moft pleafure. This is what I ffiall fpeak of more
at large, at the end of the fecond part of this
work. The exprefiion feems to me to be the fame
thing in a picture, as the poetic ftyle in a
poem. I ffiould like to compare the coloring
with that part of the poetic art, which confifts in
fuch a choice and arrangement of words, as prpr
'4uce verfes that have an harmonious found. This
branch of the poetic art may be called the me-.
chanic part of poetry.

r

r3 CI? A P.

246 Critical Reflections on
CHAP. XXXV.
Of the mechanic part of poetry, which confider &
words only as fimple founds. The advan
tages which poets, who write in Latin, have
over fuch as compofe in French.
AS the poetic ftyle confifts in the choice and
arrangement of words, confidered as figns
of our ideas ; fo the mechanic part of poetry
lies in the election and difpofition of words, re
garded as fimple founds, without any refpect to
their fignification. Wherefore, as the poetic ftyle
confiders words with reference to their fignifica
tion, which renders them more or lefs adapted
to the exciting of particular ideas ; fo the mecha
nic part of poetry confiders them only as more
or lefs harmonious ; and inafmuch as being va-
rioufly combined they form rough or melo
dious phrafes in the pronunciation. The end
which the poetic ftyle propofes to itfelf is the
drawing of images, and flattering the imagina
tion ; the defign of the mechanic part of poetry
is to pleafe the ear by the harmony of its verfes.
Some will therefore object, that their interefts
muft be frequently oppofite : I allow it •, and a
perfon muft be born a poet to be able to recon
cile them.
With regard to the mechanic part of French
yerfes, I fhalf include the remarks I have tp
make.

Poetry and Paint ing. 247
make upon this fubject, in the parallel I am
going to draw between the Latin tongue and
ours, in order to fhew the advantage which the
Latin poets have over the French in, this branch of
the art of poetry. It will not therefore be amifs,
to prove here in form, that the opinion of thofe,
who maintain the fuperiority of the Latin poetry
over the French with refpect to the poetic ftyle,
as well as to the cadence and harmony of the verfe,
is far from being erroneous. After having ffiewn,
that the Latin is more adapted to the drawing of
images than the French, by reafon of its brevity
and tranfpofition, I ffiall produce feveral reafons
to evince that a perfon who compofes verfes, has
much greater advantages towards forwarding the
numbers and harmony of his Latin lines, than a
verfifier in the French tongue.
The Latin, ftrictly fpeaking, is much con-
cifer than the French. If fome Latin words are
longer than their French fynonymous ones, there
are alfo divers French :words, that are longer than
their correfpondent terms in Latin : fo that ba.-
lancing one with another, the French have no
thing in this refpect to object againft the La
tin. But the Latins decline their words in fuch
, a manner, that the termination only points out
the cafes. When we meet with the word Do-
minus, we know by the termination, whether it.
be in the genitive, dative, or accufative. It makes
Domini in the genitive, Dominum in the accu
fative. One may alfo know by its ending, whe
ther it be in the plural or the lingular. If fome
R 4 -> cafes

348 Critical Reflections on
cafes happen to have the fame termination, th«5
government of the verb prevents the reader from
being miftaken. The Latins likewife decline their
nouns without the help of the articles le, du, Sec.
which we are obliged to ufe in our French declen-
fions, by reafon we do not change the termina
tion with the cafe. Thus we fay in French le mai-
tre, au maitre.
The Latins conjugate alfo their verbs, as they
decline their nouns. The termination diftinguiffies
the tenfe, perfon, mood, and number. If fome
terminations happen to be alike, the fenfe of
the phrafe removes the ambiguity. At twelve
v years old one is feldom miftaken in it, and at four
teen it does not caufe the leaft. hefitation. In
French the moft part of the tenfes of the verbs
are obliged to be conjugated with the help of two
other verbs, which are therefore called auxiliaries,
and are the poffeffive verb jivoir, and the fubftan-
tive verb Etre. If the Latins are forced to have
recourfe to an auxiliary verb, in order to conjugate
fome tenfes of the paffive, we are almoft always
obliged to employ two for that very purpofe. To
render the Latin amatus fui, we' muft fay, j'ai
(te aime. In the conjugating of French verbs we
are likewife forced to call in the affiftance of the
pronouns, je, tu, il, and their plural numbers.
Befides, we are not allowed to fupprefs the pre-
pofition, which the Latins generally omitted :
thus they fay, ilium enfe occidit ; but we, to exprefs
thefe three words, muft fay in French, il le tua
0vec une e'pee. Wherefore it is as clear that the
l French

Poetry and Painting. 249
French is effentially more prolix than the Latin, as
' it is evident that one circle is larger than another,
when it requires a greater extent of compaffes to
meafure it.
If fome body ffiould alledge, that there are La^<
tin verfions from the French which are longer than
their originals ; I anfwer, that this excefs in the
tranflation proceeds either frpm the nature of
the fubject treated in the original, or from the
fault of the tranflator ; but that nothing can be
Concluded from thence againft the brevity of the
Latin tongue.
In the firft place, a Latin tranflator, that is but
indifferently verfed in this language, upon not
recollecting fpeedily the Latin word proper fpr
expreffing the French, inftead of fearching for
it in a diction?ry, takes it into his head to ren
der it by a circumlocution. Hence it is that
boys eXercifes are generally longer than the
French dictated by their mafter. In the fecpnd
place it may happen, that the Latin tranflator of
a French hiftorian cannot find fynonymous terms
in the Latin tongue, for feveral French words
yfed in giving a detail of a fiege, of a fea-fight,
or of a feffion of parliament. As the RoT
mans had no knowledge of thofe things which
the tranflator is t° treat of, they confequently
had no terms proper for denoting their fignifica
tion. Thus they had no words to exprefs a mor
tar, or the faliant angle of a counterfcarp, becaufe
thefe are things they were unacquainted with in
jhofe times. The tranflator is therefore oblige^! to

2Co Critical Reflections on
to have recourfe to -a circumlocution, and to make
ufe of feveral words in rendering what a French
writer might have expreffed in one. But this
would be only an accidental prolixity, fuch as
that of a Frenchman, who, were he obliged to
make a narrative of a feaft given by Lucullus, or
the defcription of a combat of gladiators, would
be of courfe reduced to talk of feveral things
that have no particular name in our tongue,
Wherefore the Latin is more concife than the
French, when the fubject treated is fuch as has an
equal advantage of terms in both languages. Now
nothing contributes more than brevity to the ener
gy of a phrafe. Words are like metals ufed in the
fetting of diamonds ; the lefs metal is ufed, the
more fhow is made by the diamond. An image
comprized in fix words flrikes in a more lively
manner, and has a quicker effect, than that which
to finiffi it takes up ten. All our beft poets have
affured me, that this is a truth which will never
be contefted by any judicious writer.
The Latin has not only the advantage over the
French with regard to the poetic ftyle, but more
over it infinitely furpaffes it in the mechanic part
of poetry, and this for four reafons. The La
tin words are more graceful than the French in
feveral refpects. 'Tis eafier to make an harmo
nious compofition in Latin than in French. The
rules of Latin poetry lay not fo much reftraint up
on the poet, as the French poetry does. And fi
nally, the obferving of the rules of Latin poetry
throws a greater variety of beauties into the verfe,
i than,

Poetry and Painting. 251
than the conforming to the rules of French poe
try. Let us enlarge a little upon the truth of
thefe four articles.
In the firft place the Latin words are more grace
ful than the French in two refpects. Words may
be confidered either as figns of our ideas, or as
fimple founds. Confidered as figns of our ideas,
they are fufceptible of two different beauties. The
firft is that of exciting in our minds an agrea
ble idea. In this refpect the words of all lan
guages are upon an equality. Thus the word
perturbator, which founds fo well to the ear, ' is
not more graceful in Latin, than brouillon is in
French ; becaufe they both excite the fame idea.
The fecond beauty is the particular relation that
words bear to the idea they fignify. This is the
imitating in fome meafure the inarticulate found,
which we ffiould make to fignify it. But this re
quires fome explication.
Men convey their conceptions to one another
by founds artificial, or natural. Artificial founds
are articulate words, which men who fpeak the
fame language, have agreed to ufe in the expref
fing of their ideas. Hence it comes that fome
Words bear a fignification only amongft a particu
lar number of men. A French word has a fig
nification only amongft thofe who underftand
French ; wherefore it excites no manner of idea
when this language is not underftood. When men
firft formed thefe artificial founds, each time they
fet about making a new language ; they muft have
followed the inftinct of nature, in doing what is
practifed

252 Critical Reflections o»
practifed even in our days, by fuch as are at a
lofs for a word they want, in order to exprefs any
particular thing. They ftrive to make themfelves;
underftood either by mimicking the found which
that thing makes, or by mixing with fuch an im
perfect found as they are able to form, fome tone
that has the greateft likenefs or affinity poffible
with the object, the idea of which they want to
convey without being able to name it. 'Tis thus
a foreigner, ignorant of the French name for thwir
der would fupply the want pf this word by fome
found refembling as much as ppffible the noife pf
this meteor, 'Tis thus, in all probability, the
ancient Gauls formed the name of cocq, which
we ufe now in the fame figniflcation as they, to
imitate by the found of the word, the noife this
bird makes by intervals. Thus likewife they
formed the 'word bee, which had the fame fignH
fication among them as it has with us.
Thefe mimic founds muft have been principally
ufed, when there was occafion for giving name?
to fighs, laughs, groans, and alj the inarticulate
expreffions of our fentiments and paffions. 'Tis
not conjecturally we know that the Greeks ufed
them in this manner. Quintilian * tells us ex~
prefly, that they had ufed them thus, and com^
3. Finger e Greeds magis conceffum eft, qui fonis quibufdam &
affeBibus non dubitaverunt nomina aptare, non alia libertar
te quam qua. Mi primi homines rebus appellationes dederunt.
Quint. Inft. 1.8 c. 3. mends

Poetry and Pain Ting. 25 j
tnends them for their invention. Now the founds",
which thefe words imitate, are figns inftituted by na^
ture itfelf, to fignify the paffions and other things
whereof they are figns ; and 'tis from her they
draw their fignification and energy. In fact, they
are pretty near the fame in all countries, fimilat
ih this refpect to the cries of animals. This
however is certain, that if the founds by which
men exprefs their furprize, joy, grief and other
paffions, be not intirely the fame in all pla-1
ces ; they "have at leaft fo great a likenefs, that
every body underftands them". This is, if the
expreffion be indulged me, a money that is coin
ed in nature's mint, and current amongft all
nations. It follows therefore, that words which imitate the
found they fignify, or the found which we ffiould na
turally make, in order to exprefs the thing whereof
they are the eftablifhed fign, or that have any other
relation to the thing fignified ; have a much ftroriget
energy than thofe which bear no other affinity to
the thing fignified, than that which has been autho
rized by cuftom. A word that has fome natural re
lation to the thing fignified, is much quicker in rai
ling an idea thereof. The fign which has receiv
ed part of its force and fignification from nature,
is more potent, and operates more effectually
* Ut in tanta per omnes gentes nationrfque linguee diver'
fitate, hie mihi omnium hominum communis fermo videatur.
id. 1. 11. c. 2.
upon

254 Critical Reflections m
Upon us, than one which owes all its energy tp
chance, or to the caprice of the inftitutor.
Mother-languages, which have been fo called
by reafon of their not being derived from any
other tongue, but for having been formed of
the jargon, which men who lived in neigh
bouring huts had invented, fhould' naturally con
tain a greater number of thefe mimic words,
than the derivative tongues. Upon the form
ing of the latter ; chance, as well as the con-r
dition of the organs of fuch as compofe them,
(which differs according to the air and climate
of each country) the manner alfo in which the
old language is blended with the new, and in
fine, the genius which prefides at its birth, are
the caufe that the pronunciation of moft of the
mimic words comes to be altered. Thus they
lofe the energy they were poffeffed of before in
confequence of the natural relation of their found
to the thing, whereof they were inftituted figns.
Hence the advantage proceeds which mother-
tongues have over derivative languages. Hence
thofe, for inftajice, who underftand the Hebrew
are charmed with the energy of the words of this
primitive tongue.
Now tho' the Latin itfelf be a language deriv
ed from the Greek and the Tufcan, neverthelefs
it is a mother-tongue with refpect to the French -,
the greateft part of whofe words are derived from
the Latin. Wherefore notwithftanding feveral
Latin words be lefs energetical than thofe of
the language, from which they are derived, they
muft

Poetry and Painting. 3*5$
muft yet be more emphatical than the French.
Befides, the genius of our language is extremely
timorous, and very feldom attempts to break thro*
rules, to attain to fuch beauties as it would acquire
were it lefs exact and fcrupulous.
We obferve therefore that feveral words,
which have ftill a mimic nature in the Latin,
have no fuch thing in the French. Our word,
hurlement, does not exprefs the howling of the
wolf in the fame manner as uhtlatus, from whence
it is derived, when it is pronounced ooloolatus,
as feveral nations pronounce it. The fame may
be faid with regard to the words fingultus, ge-
mitus, and a vaft number of others. The
French words are not fo energetical as the La
tin, from whence they are borrowed. I was
therefore in the right to fay, that the greateft
part of the Latin words are more graceful than
the French, even examining them only as figns
of our ideas.
With regard to words confidered as fimple
founds that bear no fignification, certain it is that
in this refpect fome pleafe more, and confe-
quently are more graceful and agreable than
others. Words, compofed of founds, which of
themfelves and by their mixture are more plea
fing to the ear, ought naturally to be more agre
able than others in which the founds are not fo
happily combined ; and this, as I have obferved,
without any refpect to their fignification. Will
any one deny that the French word compagnon is
not more pleafing to the ear, than that of collegue, tho'

tj6 Critical Reflections on
tho' with regard to their fignification, the word Cofe
iegue conveys a nobler idea than compagnon ? Com
mon foldiers, and the loWeft of mechanics and la
borers have companions ; but magiftrates only have?
collegues. For as fyllables, according to the ob«-
fervation of Quintilian % are rendered fonorous by
the full and open found of their letters, fo words be
come harmonious and agreable to the ear in propor
tion to the found and harmony of their fyllables.
There are more of thefe fonorous fyllables in the
word compagnon than in collegue; and one of our
beft poets b, and" what makes moft for our pur
pofe, one of our beft verfifiers, has chofen rather
to make ufe of the word compagnon than of
collegue, in a phrafe where collegue was the proper
word. He availed himfelf of that maxim of Ci
cero, which permits us fometimes to facrifice our
rules and even a part of the fenfe to the charms
of harmony. Impetratum eft, fays he, fpeaking of
fome Latin words, d confuetudine, ut fuavitatis
xaufd peccare liceret.
Now, generally fpeaking, Latin words have £
better found than the French. The final fyllables
of words, which make a more fenfible impreffion
than others, becaufe of the paufe with which they
are generally followed, are, commonly fpeak
ing, more fonorous and varied in Latin. Too
» Nam ut fyllabdi i litteris melius fonantibut clariores funt,
ita verba e fyllabis magis vocalia £sf quo plus quaque fpiritut
habet, eo auditu pulcbrior . Quint Inft. lib. 8. c. 5.
k MI Rousseau. many

Poetry and PainTi^g. 2^7
many of our French words- are terminated with
what we call our e feminine. The French words
are therefore, generally fpeaking, inferior in beau
ty to the Latin, whether they be examined as figns
of ideas, or whether they be confidered as fimple'
founds. This is my firft reafon for maintain
ing, that the Latin tongue is fitter for poetry than
the French.
My fecond reafon is drawn from the conftruc-
tion of thefe two languages. The Latin fyntax
allows us to invert the natural order of words,
and to tranfpofe them, till we have hit upon an
arrangement, in which they will bear pronouncing
with eafe, and even caufe an agreable melody.
But in our construction, the cafe of a noun can
not be marked diftinctly in a phrafe, but by the
help of the natural order of conftruclion, and by the .
rank there given to the word : For example, we
fay le pere in French, as well in the accufative as
in the nominative. Were I to put le pere be
fore the Verb, when it is in the accufative, the
phrafe would be mere nonfenfe. We are there
fore obliged, under the penalty of becoming
unintelligible, to give the firft place to the nomi
native of the verb, the next to the verb, and the
following to the noun in the accufative. 'Tis
thus the rules of conftruclion, and not the prin
ciples of harmony, decide the arrangement of
words in a French period. Tranfpofitions may
indeed be admitted in our language in fome parti
cular cafes ; but with two reftrictions which the
Latins were not fubject to. In the firft place the
Vol. I. S ' French

258 Critical Reflections on
French tongue allows only of the tranfpofition of
the members of a period, and not of the words
which compofe thefe members. The order of
conftruclion muft always be obferved, which is
unneceffary in Latin, where each word may be
tranfpofed. Secondly, we require a circumfpec-
tion in our poets, even when they ufe fuch
tranfpofitions as are allowed them. Inverfions
and tranfpofitions that are poetic licences in French,
are the common order and difpofition of words
in the Latin.
And yet the phrafes of the French tongue
ftand naturally .more in need of tranfpofitions to
render them harmonious, than thofe of the Latin.
One half of our words terminate in vowels, and
of thefe the filent e is the only one that admits
of elifion in cafe of a concurrence with a vowel
which begins the following word. We pro
nounce therefore without any difficulty fille
aimable ; but the other vowels which are not
ftruck off, when meeting with a vowel com
mencing the fubfequent word, occafion fuch a
concurrence of found, as is very difagreable in
the pronunciation. Thefe concurrences interrupt
its continuity, and clifconcert its harmony. The
following expreffions are an inftance of this bad
effect. Vamitie abandonnee, la fierte opulente,
L'ennemi idolatre. We are fo well convinced,
that the collifion of the found of thofe vowels is
difagreable in the pronunciation, that the com
bination of fuch words are exprefly forbidden in
the rules of our poetry. 3 Thefe

Poetry and PA 1 N T 1 n G. 259
Thefe rules prohibit the connexion of words
which begin and end with vowels, that cannot be
pronounced without an hiatus. This difficulty
does not occur in the Latin. In this language all
the vowels admit of an elifion, when a word ter^
minated by a vowel meets a word which com
mences with another. Befides, a Latin writer may
eafily avoid this difagreable collifion by the help
of his inverfion, whereas it is very rare that one
can get rid of this difficulty in French by means
of fuch an expedient. There is very feldom any
other refouree left, but that of altering the
word which interrupts the harmony of the phrafe.'
He is therefore obliged frequently to facrifice the
energy of the fenfe to the harmony of the phrafe*'
or elfe to make the latter fall a victim to the for"
mer. Nothing is more difficult than to preferve
the refpective rights of fenfe and harmony, when
we write in French, fo great is the clafhing of their?
feveral interefts.
The Latin tranfpofition leads eafily to a difcovery
of the variety of founds, and of fuch a mixture of
them, as is moft agreable to the ear. Without this
variety there can be no true harmony in a period.
The fineft founds become difagreable, when they
fucceed one another by frequent-repetition. When
they are interrupted. by a change, 'tis then they
form the ornament of the phrafe, - It happens
alfo, that fome founds offend the ear, upon ftriking
it immediately after a particular fort of founds,
though they would have pleafed had they fuc
ceeded immediately after fome others. The rea-
S 2 fon

260 Critical Reflections on
fpn is, becaufe the foldings, which the organs of
fpeech are obliged to make in order to articu--
late particular fyllables, do not permit thofe or
gans to fold again fo eafily as it is neceffary they
fhould, to articulate with eafe the fubfequent fyl
lables. It has been long fince obferved, that the
pronunciation which is troublefome to the mouth
pf the fpeaker, is of courfe difagreable to the audir
tor's ear. Hence we are mechanically offended
with the pronunciation of a man, who utters with
difficulty fome words of a foreign language, and
is frequently obliged to force his organs, in order
to fqueeze out founds which he has not the habit
of forming. Our firft motion, which even the rules
of civility in feveral countries are hardly able to
fupprefs, is to laugh and mimic him.
From the reafons hitherto alledged, it may be
evidently concluded,, that it is much eafier for La
tin than French writers to form an harmonious
alliance of founds, to range all the words of. a
phrafe in an agreable proximity, and in fhort to
attain to what Quintilian calls inoffenfam verborum
copulam. This French phrafe le pere aime fon
fils cannot be written in any other order but as I
have placed it ; whereas the words which com
pofe this phrafe, if rendered into Latin, may be
ranged in four different manners.
Thirdly, the rules of Latin poetry are eafier
to practife than thofe of the French. The for
mer prefcribe a particular metre, and figure to
each kind of verfe. This figure is compofed of a
fixt

Poe try and Painting. '261
fixt number of feet, the value of which is regu
lated. There are rules that limit the number of
fyllables in each foot, and likewife the length and
brevity of thofe fyllables. When the rule hap
pens to leave the choice of an alternative, that is,
the liberty of employing one • foot inftead of ano
ther in the figure ; it points out at the fame time
what is to be done purfuant to the choice that
is agreed upon.
Thefe rules are nothing elfe in fact but the
obfervations and practice of the beft poets re
duced to method. Men began to make verfes, as
Quintilian obferves a, before there were any rules
to direct them-. The firft effays were made, with
out confulting any other rules but the ear. Their
reflections on thofe verfes, whofe numbers and
harmony were pleafing, and on fuch as had a dif
agreable cadence, were the firft origin of the laws
of verfification. Poetry therefore, like other arts,
is nothing more, according to Tully b, than a me
thodical affemblage of principles eftablifhed by ge
neral confent, in confequence of the obfervations made
on the effects of nature. All nations , have had the
j
•1 Si cut poema nemo dubitaverit imperito quodam initio fufum,
& aurium menfura & fimiliter decurrentium fpatiorum obfcr-
•uatione efie generatum, mox in eo repertos pedes .... Ante cram
carmen ortum eft quam obfervatio carminis. Quint. Inft. 1. 9.
b Neque enim ipfe verfus ratione eft cognitus, fed natura atque
fenfu quern dimenfa ratio docuit quid accidcrit. Ita. notatiq na
tura:, if ahimad-verfio peperit artem. Cic. in oratorev
S 2' fame

262 Critical Reflections on
fame view in their poetry, but they have not all
made ufe of equal means to attain it.
True it is that the rules of Latin poetry are
much more numerous than the French, by reafon
that they enter into a. more particular detail of
the nature of verification ; but as thofe rules are
delineated, as it were, and their figures expreffed
by different characters, which mark the quantity of
fyllables, they are eafy to comprehend and not
difficult to retain.
A few figures, as the Italian proverb obferves,
render every thing eafy to be comprehended. Do
not we fee in fact, that boys know by heart, and
are even capable of reducing to practice the rules
of Latin poetry at the age of fifteen, notwith
ftanding the Latin is to them a foreign lan
guage, a language they have learnt by rule and
method ? When the Latin was a living tongue,
thofe who had a mind to write verfes, were al
ready acquainted with the ufe of quantity ; that
is, with the length or brevity of fyllables. Even
now, the difficulty of learning this quantity muft
not be imputed to the Latin poetry. The know
ledge of quantity is requifite even for thofe that
want only the right pronunciation of the Latin -, as it
is neceffary to be acquainted with the quantity of
fyllables in our own mother language, to be able
to fpeak it with juftnefs and propriety.
As foon as the rules of the Latin poetry are known,
nothing is eafier than to range the words purfuant
to the rules of a particular metre in this lan
guage, which admits pf fo arbitrary a tranfpo-
fitipn, The

Poetry and Pain tin g. 263
The conftruction of our French verfes is fubject
to four rules. In the firft place, our verfes muft
be compofed of a certain "number of fyllables,
according ,tx> the kind of verfe. Secondly, our
verfes of four, five, or fix feet, ought to have a
paufe or csefura. Thirdly, we ffiould avoid
the concurrence of thofe final and initial vowels,
which admit of no elifion. And laftly, we
muft rhime. But the rhime alone becomes,
thro' the fubjection of the French phrafes to the
natural order of words, as checking a reftraint
for an^ ingenious poet, as all the rules of Latin
poetry. In effect we feldom obferve, even in the
moft indifferent Latin poets, thofe idle epithets
that are employed as mere expletives to fill up
the verfe ; but what numbers of them do not we
meet with, even in our bell poems, introduced by
the fole neceffity of rhiming ? Without enlarg
ing any farther on this article of the difficulty of
rhiming, the reader will v give me leave to refer
him to Boileau' s epiftle to Lewis the XlVth on
the paffage of the Rhine ; as alfo to the epiftle
written by the fame poet to Moliere. There he
will fee better than I can tell him, that if rhime be
a flave whofe duty it is to obey, yet it cofts a great
deal to reduce this flave to a proper ftate of fub
jection. It is alfo incumbent upon our poets to ob
ferve the caefura and number of fyllables, and
to avoid the concurrence of thofe which clafh ,
with one another. For which reafon we fee
numbers of Frenchmen who write Latin verfes
S 4 with

264 Critical Reflections on
with greater eafe and fluency than French. Now
the lefs reftraint a poet's imagination fuffers
from the mechanic part of his work, the more
this imagination is capable of taking its flight.
The lefs it is confined, the more liberty it has for
invention. An artift, who can handle his inftru-
rnents with eafe, throws an elegance and pro
priety into his execution, which another that
has not fuch docile instruments cannot attain to.
Wherefore the Latin writers, ¦ and particularly
their poets, who have not been under the fame
reftraint as , ours, have known how to extract
graces and beauties from their language, which it
is almoft impoffible for our writers to draw from
the French tongue. The Latins, for example,
have been able to attain to what I fhall call here
mimic phrafes ; for there is a mimickry or imita-
tation in phrafes, as well as in words.
A man who wants words to exprefs fome extra
ordinary noife, or to communicate a fentiment
with which he is touched, recurs naturally to the
expedient of counterfeiting this very noife, and
of expreffing his fentiments by inarticulate
founds. We are led by a natural motion to
defcribe by thofe inarticulate founds, the noife
cf a houfe tumbling down ; the confufed up
roar of a tumultuous affembly •, the counte
nance and difcourfe of a man in a tranfport of
choler, and feveral other fuch like things. In
ftinct makes us thus fupply the fterility of our
language,, or the flownefs of our imagination.
Thofe, whp are charged with the education of
children,

Poetry and Painting. 265
children, are fenfible of the care that is requi-
fite to correct their inclination to thefe inar
ticulate founds, the practice of which we con
fider as a vicious habit. Men, whofe nature
has not been improved by education, fuch as
favages and the dregs of the people, frequently ufe
thefe inarticulate founds during their whole lives.
I ffiall therefore give the appellation of mimic
phrafes to thofe that imitate, in fome manner, fuch
inarticulate founds, as inftinct would teach us to
ufe in conveying the idea of things, which fpeech
expreffes by articulate founds. The Latin au
thors abound in thefe mimic phrafes, which have
been admired and quoted with encomiums by
writers of the claffic ages. They have been com
mended by the Romans under the reign of Augus
tus, who were competent judges of thofe beauties.
Such is the verfe of Virgil, in which Poliphemus
is defcribed.
Monftrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen
ademptum.
A monftrous bulk, deform' 'd, depriv'd of fight.
Dryden.
This verfe pronounced with a fuppreffion of
thofe fyllables that admit of an elifion, and with
making the u found in the fame manner as the
Romans did, becomes, as it were, a monftrous
verfe. Such is alfo the following verfe of Perfius,
where he fpeaks of a fnuffler -, a verfe that can
hardly be pronounced without fhuffling. Rancidulum

266 Critical Reflections on
Rahcidulum quiddam balba de nare locutus.
Pers. fat. i.
Some fenfelefs Phillis, in a broken note
Snuffling at nsfe, or croaking in his throat.
Dryden.
The change which has happened in the pronunci
ation of the Latin tongue, has thrown a veil, in
all probability, over fome part of thefe beauties,-
but has not concealed them all.
Our poets, who have attempted to inrich their
verfes with fuch mimic phrafes, have not hit the
tafte of the French fo well as thofe Latin poets
fucceeded with the Romans. 'Tis true Pafouier
gives us feveral mimic phrafes of the French poets
in the chapter of his researches, where he attempts '
to prove, that the French tongue is as fufceptible
as the Latin of the fine touches of poetry a ; but the
examples produced by Pafquier are fufficient alone
to refute his propofition.
In fact, tho' mimic phrafes might have been ufed
by fome of our poets, yet it is no fort of proof of
their goodnefs. They ffiould have been introduced
without prejudicing the fenfe or the grammatical
conftruction. Now I do not recollect more than
one fcrap of French poetry of this kind, that can be
put in any fort of competition with fuch numbers
of verfes, which authors of all ages have com
mended in the works of thofe poets who wrote
when the Latin was a vulgar language. This is
» Book 8. c. io. the

Po e t r y find Painting. 267
the defcription of an affault in Boileau's Ode on
the taking of Namur. The poet paints there in
mimic phrafes and elegant verfes the foldier clam
bering up a breach.
Sur les monceaux de piques
De corps moris, de rocs, de briques,
S'ouvrir un large chemin.
O'er heaps of ftones, and broken limbs
Of rocks, the dauntlefs foldier goes,
Of helmets, fwords, guns, carcaffes, the dread
ful pomp of woe.
I beg pardon pf fiich pf our modern poets as may
have been fuppofed to have equalled Boileau's
fuccefs in this kind of tafte, for not quoting
them upon this occafion, as I have not the plea
fure pf being acquainted with their verfes.
The French tongue is not only far from being
fo fufceptible of thefe beauties as the Latin, but
it has happened alfo, that we have not made
fo profound a ftudy as the Romans, of the value
of! founds, of the combination of fyllables, of the
arrangement of words proper for the producing of
particular effects ; or finally, of the rhythmus
which may refult from the compofition of thefe
phrafes. Were any of our writers to attempt any
thing fimjlar to what the Latins have done in this
kind, they could expect no manner of affiftance
from any methodical fearch already made on this
fubject. Their only refource would be to con- fult

268 Critical Reflections on
fuit the ear ; but the very beft ear is not al
ways fufficient, efpecially when (to make ufe of
this expreffion) it has not been cultivated. To
fucceed in thefe attempts, a perfon ffiould have fixt
rules to have recourfe to in the heat of .his com
pofition ; or at leaft he ought to have made
feveral reflections before- hand, and in confe-
quence thereof to have eftablifhed fome regular
maxims. The ancients cultivated their foil with
care, to which they were encouraged by its fer
tility. Thofe who are defirous of feeing into
what minute details they have entered upon
this fubject, and how far they have carried their
inquiries, may confult the fourth chapter of the
ninth book of Quintilian, Cicero de oratore, and
what Longinus has wrote with regard to the choice
of words, to the rhythmus and metre in his treatife
on the Sublime, and in his prolegomena to He-
phasftion's Enchiridium.
My fourth reafon is, that the beauties which
refult from the fimple obferving of the rules of
Latin poetry, are much fuperior to thofe that
arife from the obferving of the rules of French
verfe. The obferving of the rules of Latin poetry is
a neceffary caufe of numbers in verfes com
pofed according to the rules of this poetry.
The fucceffion of fhort and long fyllables vari-
oufly mixt purfuant to the proportion prefcribed
by art, produces always in Latin fuch a ca
dence as the kind of verfe requires. The rules of

Poetrv and Painting; 269
of Latin poetry are no more than the obfervations
and practice of the beft Latin poets, on the ar
rangement of fyllables neceffary for the producing
of numbers, reduced to precepts and method.
Thefe mles do not indeed afcertain the found of
each fyllable -, they are fatisfied with determining
the arithmetical number of fyllables admitted in
each kind of verfe, artd with pointing put which
ffiould be long, and which fhort, and where 'tis
allowable to place either long or fhort. They
tell us indeed, for inftance, that the two laft fyl
lables of an hexameter ought to be long ; but
they do not mention the- found which thefe two
laft fyllables ffiould have. Wherefore the rules
of Latin poetry are not productive of harmony,
which is nothing elfe but an agreable mixture
of different founds. It depended on the poet's
ear to find out the propereft ' mixture of founds
for producing an agreable harmony, fuitable
to the fignification of the verfe. Hence the
verfes of Propertius, who had not fo delicate an
ear as Tibullus, to form a right judgment of the
mixture of founds, are lefs harmonious than
thofe of Tibullus, in the pronunciation of which
we feel a particular fuavity. With regard to
the difference in the cadence of the elegiac verfes
of thofe authors, it proceeds from Propertius's
affectation in imitating the cadence of the Greek
pentameters, which we muft not confound with
the difference between the harmony of thofe two
poets. But fetting the cadence afide, their vetfes
have, as it were, the fame gate, notwithftanding the
verfes

270 Critical Reflections on
verfes of Propertius do not move with for good a
grace as thofe of Tibullus. Now 'tis faying a vaft
deal in praife pf the rules of Latin poetry, to
maintain, that they execute one half and more of
the work ; and that the poet's ear is charged with
only one point, that is, .with minding to render
the verfes melodious by a happy mixture of the
found of the fyllables of which they are compofed.
I ffiall endeavour now to prove, that the obferv
ing of the rules of French poetry is productive
of neither of thofe effects ; that is, that French
verfes exactly conformable to thofe rules, may be
deftitute Of numbers and harmony in the pro
nunciation. The rules of French poetry determine only the
arithmetical number of fyllables, whereof the
verfes are to confift. They decide nothing with
regard to the quantity that is in poetry, with re
fpect to the length and brevity of thofe fyllables.
But as the fyllables in French words are fometimes
.long and fometimes fhort in the pronunciation,
there are feveral inconveniences arifing from the
filence of our rules with refpect to their combina
tion. In the firft place it happens, that feveral
French verfes, which have nothing to be re
proached with in point of rules, contain never
thelefs too long a fucceffion of fhort or long fylla
bles. Now the too great length of this fucceffion
obftrudts the numbers in the pronunciation of the
verfes. The rhythmus or cadence of a verfe, confifts
in the alternative of long and fhort fyllables varied
according

Poetsy W Painting. 271
according to a particular proportion. Too great
a number of long fyllables ranged fucceffively
one after another, retards the progreffion of the
verfe in the pronunciation. Too great a number
of fhort fyllables fucceeding one another imme
diately, renders it difagreably precipitant.
Secondly, it falls out frequently, that when
we have a mind to examine two Alexandrine
French verfes connected together by the fame
rhime, with regard to the time in pronouncing
each verfe, we find an enormous difference be
tween the length of thefe verfes, tho' they
are both compofed according to the rules. Let
ten fyllables out of twelve, which compofe a
mafculine verfe, be long ; and let ten fyllables
of the following verfe be fhort ; thefe verfes,
which will appear equal on paper, will be of
a furprizing inequality in the pronunciation.
Wherefore thefe verfes, notwithftanding their
being allied to one another, and anfwering by
one common rhime, will lofe neverthelefs all
the cadence which might arife from the equa
lity of their meafure. Now 'tis not the eye,
but the ear which judges of the cadence of
verfes. This inconveniency does not, as I have al
ready obferved, attend fuch as write Latin verfes,
by reafon that the rules prevent it. The
arithmetical number of fyllables which confti-
tutes each kind of Latin verfe, is determin
ed with regard to the length or brevity of
thefe fyllables. Thefe rules, which were made from
obferving

272 Critical Reflections on
obferving the fuitable proportion in each kind of
verfe between the arithmetical number and the
quantity of fyllables, decide in the firft place, that;
in the particular feet of a verfe we ought to put
fyllables of a certain quantity. Secondly, when
thefe rules leave the poet at liberty to employ
long or fhort fyllables in a particular part of
the verfe ; they direct him, in cafe he chufes to
ufe long fyllables, to employ then a leffer num
ber of fyllables. If the poet determines in favour
of fhort fyllables, he is ordered by the rules to ufe
a greater number. Now as the pronouncing
of a long fyllable continues double the fpace of
time to what a ffiort one does ; all the Latin hex
ameters are confequently of the fame length in the
pronunciation, tho' fome contain a greater number
of fyllables than others. The quantity of fylla
bles is always compenfated by their arithmetical
number. Hence the Latin hexameters are always equal
in the pronunciation, notwithftanding the variety
of their progreffion ; whereas our Alexandrine ver
fes are frequently unequal, tho' 'they have almoft
conftantly an uniformity of progreffion. Hence
fome critics have been of opinion, that it was al
moft impoffible to write a French epic poem of
ten thoufand verfes with any fuccefs. True it is,
that this uniformity of the rhythmus has not ob-
ftrudted the fuccefs of our dramatic poems in France
and foreign countries ; but thofe poems which
do hot exceed two thoufand verfes have fufficient
excellencies to fuftain them, notwithftanding the
fatiety

Poetry and PA I n t I N G. 273
fatiety of the likenefs of . their numbers. Befides
it is lefs obferved on the ftage, where thefe forts of
pieces appear with greateft luftre, by reafon that
the actors, who generally, before they fetch their
breath, run one verfe into another ; or elfe fetch
it before they have finifhed the verfe, to prevent
our being fo fenfible of the vicioUs uniformity of
its cadence.
What has been here faid with refpect to hexa
meters, may be equally applied to any other kind
of verfe. Thofe which run precipitately by
reafon of their being compofed of ffiort fyllables,
-laft therefore as long as fuch as go a very flow
pace, becaufe of their being compofed of long
fyllables. For example, Virgil ufes fhort fyllables
as much as the rules of metre permitted him in
that verfe, in which he draws fo compleat a pic
ture of a courfer in full gallop, that the very found
of the verfe makes us imagine we hear the noife
of his motion. '
ghtadrupedante putrem fonitu quatit ungula cam-
pum.
The neighing courfer s anfwer to the found,
Andjhake with horny hoofs the f olid ground.
Dryden.
This verfe contains feventeen fyllables, but it does-
not continue longer in the pronunciation than
the following verfe of thirteen, in which Virgil
defcribes the Cyclops at work, and lifting up
their arms to ftrike their hammers on the
You I. T anvil,

274 Critical-Reflections on
anvil, an effect which is well reprefented in the
fubfequent verfe.
OIH inter fe mult a vi brachia toliunt
In numrum, verfantque tenaci forcipe maffam.
By. turns their arms advance, in equal time,
By turns their hands defend, and hammers chime,
They turn thq glowing mafs with crooked Ungs, -
The fiery work proceeds with ruftic fongs..
Dryden.
Thus the cadence of verfe is not at. all inter
rupted by ufing a greater- number of ffiort or
long fyllables, in order tp give a better defcription
of the pbject.
The art of properly applying long and ffiort
fyllables, an art fo much cultivated by the anci
ents, is likewife ufeful for feveral other purpofes.
For example, 'tis obferved that Cicero a not cha
fing to make a frequent ufe of figures in the reci
tal of the ignominious punifhment of a Roman
citizen, whom Verres had ordered to be whipped
with rods ; left he fhould render himfelf fufpectcd
of declamation, finds a refouroe in the ductility
of his language, to fix his auditor a long time
on the image of this puniffiment. The fact was
,-fp very atrocibus, as the bare attending to the
narration thereof was fufficient to inflame the au
ditors, who were to fupply the figiires themfelves.
This effect is produced by the flpwneis, with
• In Vcr:-. ail. 5.
"2 which

Poetry and Painting. 275
which the plain, and, in all appearance, artlefs
expreffions are pronounced, which Gicero adopts
in treating of the action againft which he endea
vours to excite the indignation of his audience.
Cccdebatur virgis civis Romanus.
We perceive the art he ufes in the different repe
titions, which he varies fo dexteroufly to avoid the
fufpicion of being affected. But let us return to
the cuftom of employing the combination of ffiort
and long fyllables, to give numbers and cadence
to phrafes. The Romans were fo taken with the effect of
numbers, that their profe-writers grew extreme
ly fond thereof, infomuch as to gradually facrifice
the fenfe and energy of their difcourfe to the num
bers and cadence of their language. Cicero ob-
ferves ", that in his time profe had its meafured ca
dence the fame as verfe. The effential difference
therefore between profe and verfe was not, that the
latter was confined to a particular meafure, and the
former at its liberty ; but that the metre of profe
was different frbm that of verfe. This difference
confifted no longer at that time in the old defini-
tion of foluta and ftritta or alio. Cicero treats
likewife of the knowledge of feet, as a thing
neceffary for actors as well as poets.
a Nam etiam poeta qutzfiioticm atlulerunt, quidnam cffet illud,
quo ipfi differvent ab oratoribus. Numero videbantur antea ?nax-
j/ni isf verfu. Nunc apud oraiores jam ipfe numerus increbuit.
Cic. in oratore. *
T 2 Quintilian,

276 Critical Reflections on
Quintilian, who wrote about a century later-
than Cicero, fpeaks of certain profe- writers of his
time, who imagined they had rivalled the greateft
orators, when they could boaft that their phrafes
were fo diftinctly numerous in the pronunciation,
that the declamation thereof might be divided be
tween two perfons. The geftures of the one
might accompany the recitation of the other,
without any danger of miftake •, fo fenfible was the
impreffion of the rhythmus a. But the obfervations
we ffiall elfewhere make with regard to the reci
tation of comedians, will give a full light to this
paffage. Our French poets, after having obferved the
rules of our poetry, which require a much greater
conftraint than thofe of Latin verfe, are forced
to rely on the fole affiftance of the ear in the
fearch of cadence and harmony. We may judge
of the difficulty of this work, only by reflecting,
that the tranfpofition of words is not allowed
once in twenty times upon thofe occafions in
which the Latin poets were indulged with it.
Neverthelefs I am far from thinking it impoffible
for French poe^s to write harmonious and nume
rous verfes. All I have pretended to maintain is,
that the French poets cannot convey fo much har
mony and cadence into their verfe as the Latins,
and that what little they are capable of introducing,
is attended with more trouble and pains, than ever
thofe beauties were, which the Latin poets knew
* LauJis & gloria &f ingenii loco plerique jaBant Cantari,fal-
tariqt.e commentaries fuos. Qu int. dialog, de oratore.
3 how

, Poetry and Painting. 277
how to transfufe into their poems. I do not even
believe that any modern poet, who has wrote in
the languages polifhed within thefe three centu
ries, has attained to a greater cadence and me
lody than Malherbe ; probably at the expence of a
fatigue and perfeverance, for which he was in
debted to the province where he was born.
The reader will not find lefs cadence and har
mony in feveral of Abbot Chaulieu's pieces, but
efpecially in his verfes to the Marquis de la Fare,
and in his letter to the Prince of Auvergne. Who
ever will give himfelf the trouble of pronouncing
the verfes here mentioned aloud, will foon per
ceive, that the numbers which fufpend the ear in
a continued attention, and the harmony which
renders this attention agreable, and compleats, as
it were, the conqueft of the ear, have a much
greater effect than all the riches of rhime. Befides,
ought not the whimfical toil of rhiming to be looked
upon as the loweft function of the mechanic part
of poetry ? But fince the poet cannot get this
piece of drudgery performed by others, as the
painter can have his colors pounded, it is proper
for us to fay fomething concerning this fubject.

T 3 CHAP.

27S Critical Reflections on
CHAP. XXXVI.
Of Rhime.
1 | ''HERE is no rule in poetry, whofe ob-
fervance cofts fo much trouble, and pro
duces fo few beauties in verfe, as that of rhiming.
Rhime frequently maims, and almoft always ener
vates the fenfe of the difcourfe. For one bright
thought which the paffion of rhiming throws in
our way by chance, it is certainly every day the
caufe of a hundred others, which people would
blufh to make ufe of, were it not for the riehnefs
or novelty of the rhime, with which thefe thoughts
are attended.
And yet the allurement of rhime has nothing
in it worth comparing to the charms of numbers
and harmony. The terminating of a fyllable
with a particular found, is no beauty of itfelf.
The beauty of rhime is only a relative one, which
confifts in a conformity of termination between
the laft words of two correfponding verfes. This
ornament therefore, which is of fo ffiort a dura
tion, is perceived only at the end of two verfes,
and after having heard the laft word of the fecond
verfe which rhimes to the firft. One is not even
fenfible of this pleafure, but at the end of three
or four verfes, if the mafculine and feminine
rhimes are interwoven, fo that the firft and fourth
be mafeulines, and the fecond and third feminines ;
a mix-

Posts?- and Painting. 279
a mixture which is very much ufed in feveral
kinds of poetry.
But to confine our difcourfe to thofe verfes in
which rhime ffokies- forth in all itsluftre and
beauty, the richnefs thereof difcovers itfelf only
at the end of the fecond verfe. 'Tis the greater or
leffer conformity of founds between the two laft
words of the two verfes which forms its elegance.
Now the moft part of thofe who are not them
felves of the profeffion, or tho' of the profeffion,
are not particularly fond of rhime, do not, upon
hearing the fecond rhime, recollect the firft di-
ftifietly enough to be charmed with their perfec
tion. Their merit is known rather by reflection
than fenfation, fo trifling is the pleafure by which
it tickles the ear.
- Some perhaps will fay, that there muft certain
ly be a much greater beauty in rhime than I
pretend to allow. The confent of all nations
(they will add) is a fenfible proof in favor of
rhime ; the ufe- of which is at prefent univerfally
adopted. My anfwer is- in the firft place, that I do not
conteft the agreablenefs of rhime ; I only look
upon this agreablenefs in a much inferior light to
that which arifes from the numbers and harmony
Gf verfe, and which ffiews itfelf continually
during the metrical pronunciation. Numbers and
harmony are a light which throws out a con-
ftant lull-re, but rhime is a mere flaffi, which dif-
appeaf-s after having given only a ffiort-liv'd fplen-
dor. In fact the richeft rhime has but a very tran-
T 4. fient

2,80 Critical Reflections on
fient effect. Were we even to rate the value of
verfes only by the difficulties that, are to be fur-
mounted in the making of them* 'tis lefs diffi
cult, without comparifon, to rhime completely
than to compofe numerous and harmonious verfes.
In aiming at the latter, we meet with obftacles
at every word. Nothing extricates a French poet
out of thefe difficulties, hut his genius, his ear, and
perfeverance j for he has no affiftance to expect.
from any method hitherto reduced to art. Thefe
obftructions do not occur fo frequently, when a
perfon propofes only to rhime well ; and befides,
in endeavouring to furmount them, he meets with
the affiftance pf a dictionary of rhimes, that, fa
vourite book of all fevere rhimers. For fet thefe:
gentlemen fay what they will, there are none
of them but what have this excellent work in
their fludies.
Secondly, I grant that we fhime all our ver
fes, and that our neighbours do likewife moft,
part of theirs. We find the ufe of rhime efta
blifhed even in Afia and America. But the great
eft part of thefe people are barbarians, and the
rhiming nations that have been fince civilized,
were barbarous and illiterate when their poetry
was firft formed. The languages they fpoke
were not fufceptible of a greater perfection of
yerfe, when they laid, as it were, the firft founda
tions pf their poetry. True it is, that the Euro
pean nations here fpoken of became, in procefs
pf time, a polite and learned people. But as they.
poliffied themfelves not 'till a Jong time after they

Po E T R y and Paintin gT 281
Wiey had been formed into a body politic, and
as their national cuftoms were already fettled, and
even ftrengthened by the length of time they had
been ftanding,; when thefe nations received the im
provements arifing from a judicious culture of the
Greek and Latin tongues ; thofe cuftoms have
therefore been poliffied and mended, but could
never be intirely altered. An architect, who has un
dertaken to repair an old Gothic building, may
make fome alterations to render it more com
modious, but he cannot alter the defects which
arife from the firft conftruclion. He cannot ffiape
it into a regular building without pulling down
the old one in, order to erect a new edifice up
on a different plan.
Wherefore thofe excellent poets who have work
ed upon this ftructure in France and in out neigh
bouring countries, may, 'tis true, have improv
ed and imbellifhed this modern poetry; but
it was impoffible for them to alter its confor
mation, which had its foundation in the nature
and genius of the modern tongues. The attempts
which learned poets have made in France, from
time to time, to change the rules of our poetry,
and to introduce the practice of meafured verfes
in imitation of the Greeks and Romans, have not
met with the defired fuccefs.
Rhime, as well as fiefs and duels, owes its
origin to the barbaroufnefs of our anceftors. The
people, from whom the modern nations are def-
cended, and who fubverted the Roman empire, ¦
had already their poets, tho5 barbarians, when they

282 Critical Reelection6 5»
they firft fettled in Gaul and other provinces df
the empire. As the languages, in which thofe ig
norant poets wrote, were not fufficiently improv
ed to bear handling according to the rules of
metre, nor even admitted of , attempting- it ;
they fancied there would be fome ornament in ter
minating with the fame found, two confecutive or
relative parts of a difcourfe, both of which were
to be of an equal extent. This identity of final
founds, repeated at the end of a certain number of
fyllables, formed a kind of grace, arid feemied to
exprefs, or did, if you pleafe, exprefs fomething
of a cadence in verfe. Thus it was in all pro
bability, that rhime firft rofe and eftablifhed itfelf
in Europe.
In the countries invaded by the barbarians, ano
ther fort of people were formed, compofed of the
mixture of thefe new comers with the ancient in
habitants. The cuftoms of the predominant nation
prevailed in many things; and efpecially in the
common language, which was formed of thast fpok-
en by the ancient inhabitants, and that which was
ufed by the new comeirs. For example, the new
language in Gaul, where the ancient inhabitants
commonly fpoke Latin when the Franks firft
fettled there, preferved only fome words derived
from the Latin. The fyratax of this language, as
we have before obferved, was intirely dif
ferent from that of the Latin tongue. In
fhort the new-born language was forced to
fubm'tt to the flavery of rhiming, and this very
rhime paffed into the Latin tongue j the ufe of
which

Poetry and Pain ting. 283
which was retained by a .particular fet of people.
The praclice of Leonine verfes (which are Latin ver
fes in rhime, like our French ones) was introduc
ed as early as the eighth century, and prevail
ed at the time when the following ones were
made. Fingitur hac fpecie bonitatis odore refertus
Iftius ecchfia fundator rex Dagobertus.
Thefe Leonine verfes difappeared together with
ignorance, upon the rifing of that light whofe
dawn appeared in jhe fifteenth century.

CHAP. XXXVII.
That the words of our own native language
make a greater impreffion upon us, than
. thofe of a foreign tongue.
ff H ^ I S an unconteftable prpof of the fuperj-
_f_ ority of Latin verfes over French, that
they move and affect Frenchmen who underftand
Latin, much more than French verfes are capable
of moving them. And yet the impreffion of the
words of a foreign language, is a great deal feebler
than that which is made by the expreffions of our
mother tongue. Since therefore Latin verfes have
a greater effect upon us than French ; it follows,
of courfe, that they are perfecter, and more capable of

284 Critical Reflections »«
of .affording us pleafure. Latin verfes cannot be na-.
tiirally fuppofed to ftrike a French ear, in the fame
manner as they did the Romans ; nor have they
the fame power, which French verfes ffipuld have
by right upon the ears of Frenchmen.
The words of our language have only a bare
arbitrary connexion with their ideas, unlefs it be
a very, fmall number which may pafs for mimic
or imitative expreffions. This connexion is the
effect of caprice or hazard. For example, they
might have annexed in our language the idea of
ahorfe to the word foliveau, artd that of a rafter,
which it fignifies, to the word cheval. Now 'tis
only during the infant years of our life, that the
connexion between a particular word and its idea
is imprinted fo well, that this word feems to us to
have a natural energy ; that is, a particular pro
priety in fignifying a thing, whereof it is not
withftanding only an arbitrary fign. Thus^ as we
have learnt from our infancy the fignification of
the word aimer, to love, as this word is the firft we
have retained for expreffing the thing of which it
is the fign, it appears to us to have a natural
energy ; tho' the force we difcover in it, proceeds
intirely from our education, and from its having.
feized, as it wete, the firft place in our memory.
It even happens, that when we learn a foreign
language after having attained to a certain age,
we do not immediately refer the words of this
language to their proper ideas, but to fuch words
of our own mother tongue, as are connefted
with thofe ideas. Thus a Frenchman, who is
learning

Poet a. Y and Pa i n t i n g. 258
learning Englifh, does hot; prefently affix to the
Engliffi word God, the idea of Dieu ¦, but to the
word Dieu. When he hears afterwards the word
God pronounced, the idea which immediately arifes
is that of the fignification which this word hath
in French. The idea of God rifes only, in the
fecond place ; and it feems as if he were obliged
at firft to tranflate the word God inwardly into
French. Let people treat this explication as a piece of
metaphyfical fubtlety, if they pleafe, it is notwith
ftanding abfolutely true, that when our imagina
tion has not been early accuftomed to reprefent
to us readily certain ideas, upon the hearing of par
ticular founds, thefe words- make a much weaker and
¦flower impreffion upon us, than thofe which our
organs have been habituated to from our infancy.
The effect which words produce, depends on the
mechanical fpring of our organs, and confequent-
ly it fhould depend on the facility as well as
promptitude of their movements. Hence the fame
difcourfe has a quicker influence upon a man of a
lively imagination, than upon a perfon of a flow
heavy difpofition, tho' they intereft themfelves
afterwards both alike in the thing propofed to
them. Experience, which has a much greater weight
than bare reafonings in matters of fact, convinces
us fufficiently of this truth. , A Frenchman who
underftands Spanifh, only as a foreign language, is
not as much affected with the word querer, as
with

286 Critical Reflections on
with aimer, tho* they both fignify the tzmut
thing. And yet Latin verfes pleafe and affect us more
than thofe that are compofed in French. The
teftimony of foreigners cannot be refufed in this
cafe, to whom the ufe of the French tongue is
grown much more familiar in our days than
that of the Latin. They feem all to agree, that
they are much lefs pleafed and affected with French
verfes than with Latin ones, notwithftanding the
greateft part of them have learnt French before
Latin. The French themfelves, that have a
fufficient knowledge of the Latin to underftand
with cafe the poets who have wrote in this lan
guage, are of the fame opinion. Upon a fuppo
fition that two poets, one French and the other
Latin, have treated the fame fubject, and with
equal fuccefs, the Frenchmen abovementioned
will find greater pleafure in reading the Latin
verfes. Monfieur Bourbon's jeft on this occafion
is very well known, who ufed to fay, That he ima
gined himfelf drinking water whilft he was read-
wig French verfes. In fine, both French and fo
reigners,. I mean thofe whs- are as well acquainted
with our language as ourfelves, and have been
educated with a Horace in one hand, and with
% Boileau in the other, cannot bear to hear of a
comparifon between French and L?tin verfes me
chanically confidered. There muft be therefore
fome fiiperior excellence in Latin verfes to what
we can difcover in the French. A foreigner who
meets

Poetry and Paint in g. 287
meets with preferment at court, fooner than a
perfon who is a native of the country, is fup
pofed to have more merit than the rival whom
he is preferred to.

CHAP. XXXVIII.
That the painters of Raphael's time had m
advantage over thofe of our days. Of the
ancient painUrs.
OUR French poets are therefore to be pitied,
whenever they are forced to undergo a
comparifon with the Latin poets, who had fo
many helps to forward their fuccefs, which the
French poets are deprived of. They may make
the fame anfwer as Quintilian a does for the Latin
poets to thofe critics, who feemed to require of
the Latin writers a power of moving equal to that
of the Greeks : " Let our language, fays he, be
" as, fertile io expreffions, and as agreable in the
" pronunciation, as that of the people whom you
'* would have us rival, in order to merit your
" effieem." An architect, who builds only
with brick, cannot raife fo fumptuous an edi
fice, as with ftone or marble. Our painters

1 Det mihi in loquendo eandcm jucunditatem & parcm co-
piaia, QjgjiNT. Inft. 1. 12. are

288 Critical Reflections on
are much happier in this, refpect than our poets.'
The painters of our days employ the fame colors and
inftruments, as were ufed, by thofe whofe works are
efteemed to have a fuperior excellence over any of
our prefent performers. Our painters compofe,
as it were, at prefent in the fame language as their
predeceffors. When I mention the predeceffors of
the painters of our days, I do not mean the pain
ters of the time of Alexander the Great, nor thofe
who flourifhed under Auguftus. We are not fuf
ficiently acquainted with the mechanical detail of
ancient painting, to draw a parallel thereof with
the mechanic part of modern painting. By the
predeceffors of our painters, I mean to fpeak only
of thofe, who have appeared fince the recovery of
letters. I know not of any one piece done by the pain
ters of ancient Greece, which has been preferved.
down to our times. The pieces that are extant
of the painters of ancient Rome, are in fo fmall a
quantity, and likewife of fo particular a quality,
that it is very difficult to judge from thence, of
the abilities of the beft artifts of thofe times, or of
the colors which they employed. We cannot po-
fitively tell, whether they had any colors which we
have not ; but 'tis very probable that they had not
the colors which our artifts draw from America and
fome other countries, with which Europe has had
a fettled commerce only within thefe two cen
turies. A great

Poetry and Painting. 289
A great number of fragments of antique
painting were done in Mofaic ; that is, in a
kind of painting wrought with fmall coloured
ftones, and fharp pointed bits of glafs meafured
and proportioned together, fo as to imitate in
their affemblage the ftrokes and color of the ob
jects, which they were intended to reprefent. We
fee, for example, in the palace, which the Barbe-
rini family built in the town of Paleftrina, at
, twenty five miles diftance from Rome, a great
piece of Mofaic about twelve feet long, and ten
deep, which ferves for a pavement to a kind of
niche, the vault whereof fuftains the two fe-
parate flights, which lead to the firft landing
place of the principal flair-cafe, This fuperb
fragment is a kind of map of Egypt, and is pre
tended to be the very fame pavement which Sylla
caufed to be made in the temple of Fortune at
Prasnefte, which Pliny makes mention of in the
twenty fifth chapter of the thirty fixth book of
his hiftory. It is ingraved in miniature in fa
ther Kircher's Latium ; but in 1721 Cardinal
Charles Barberini had it ingraved in four large
fheets. The ancient artift made ufe of feveral
flourifhes to imbellifh this piece, fuch as geo
graphers employ frequently to fill up the void
fpaces of their maps. Thefe flourifhes reprefent
men, beafts, buildings, hunting-matches, and fe
veral ceremonies and points of the moral and na
tural hiftory of ancient Egypt. The names of fuch
things as are there painted are written on the top
Vo v. I. U in

2tp Critical Reflections on
in Greek characters, in the fame manner pretty
near as the names of provinces are written in a
general map of the kingdom of France.
Pouffin has made ufe of fome of thefe compo
fitions to irnbelliffi feveral of his pictures, and
among the reft that which reprefents the arrival
of the facred family in Egypt. This great
painter was yet living, when this fuperb piece
of Mofaic was dug out from amidft the ruins
of a temple of Serapis, which muft have been,
purfuant to our manner of fpeaking, a chappel
of the famous temple of Fortune at Pranefte.
Every body knows that the ancient Praenefle was
the fame city as the modern Paleftrina. This piece
of Mofaic was by good luck extracted intire, and
in very good condition ; but unluckily for the
curious, it did not rife cut of its tomb till five
years after Monfieur Suarez, bifhop of Vaiffons
had publifhed his work intitled Pr<eneftes antique
libri duo \ The map abovementioned was then
buried in the vaults of the bifhop's palace at Palef
trina, where it remained almoft invifible. The curi
ous could perceive fome fmall matter of it, by dint
of walning the parts already difcovered ; tho' not
without the help of torches. Wherefore Monfieur
Suarez could give us no more than b the defcription
of fome fragments, which Cavalier del Pozzo had
caufed to be drawn upon the fpot t.
» Printed at Rome in tlie year 165;.
b Praneft. Antiq. lib. prim. p. t;o.
c Ibid. 1. z. p. zzS. There

Po e t ry and Painting. 291
There are ftill to be feen at Rome and in va
rious parts of Italy feveral fragments of the an
cient Mofaic, the greateft part whereof have been
ingraved by Pietro Santi Bartoli, who has in
ferred them in his different collections. But there
are many reafons to conclude we ffiould form a
wrong judgment of the paintings of the ancients,
were we to ground it on thefe Mofaics. The cu
rious are convinced we ffiould not do juftice to
Titian, were we to judge of his merit by fuch of
thofe Mofaic pieces of the church of St" Mark at
Venice, as were done from the defigns of this
great mafter of colors. 'Tis impoffible to exprefs
with pebbles and fcraps of glafs, fuch as the an
cients made ufe of to paint in Mofaic," all the beau
ties and graces, which the pencil of an able artift
bellows on a picture, where he is mafter of veil
ing the colors, and of doing on every phyfical
point whatever his fancy pleafes, as well with re
gard to the touches, as to the teints. In fact, the
Mofaic pieces which are moft cried up, and which at
a certain diftance are taken for pictures done with
the pencil, have been copied from fimple portraits.
Such is the portrait of pope Paul the Vth, which is
Xp be feen at Rome in the palace of the Borghefe
Family. Even in Rome itfelf there are very few antique
pictures that have been done with the pencil. The
following are thofe which I remember to have feen.
In the firft place the wedding of the Villa Aldobran-
dina, and the little figures of the pyramid of Ceftius.
There are very few virtuofos, but have feen at leaft
U 2 the

292 Critical Reflections on
the prints of thefe pieces. Secondly, the pictures
preferved in the palace belonging to the Barberini
family at Rome, which were found in the fubterra-
neous grottos, when they laid the foundation of
that palace. Thefe pictures are the landfkip or
the Nymphseum whereof Lucas Holftenius pub-
liffied a print with an explanation ; as alfo the Venus
repaired by. Carlo 'Maratti ; and a picture of Rome
holding Victory. The connoiffeurs that are not
acquainted with the hiftory of thefe two frefcos,
take one for a piece done by Raphael, and the other
by Correggio. There is alfo in palace Farnefe a
piece of antique painting, found in the emperor
Adrian's villa at Tivoli, and the remains of a del
ing in a private perfon' s garden near St Gregory's.
Since the firft edition of this work feveral other
antique paintings have been found in the Villa
Farnefe on mount Palatine, in the fame place where
the emperor's palace'formeriy flood. Thefe paintings
ornamented the deling of a bathing room ; but nei
ther the Duke of Parma, to whom they belonged,
nor the King of the two Sicilies, who has removed
them fince to Naples, have had them yet ingraved.
Dr Mead, a gentleman fo celebrated throughout
Europe for his abilities and his love for the polite
arts, has inriched his cabinet with a piece of an
tique painting, which was alfo found in the, ruins
of the imperial palace at Rome ; and he hascauf-
ed this precious fragment to be ingraved. It re
prefents, as we have reafon to imagine, the emperor
Auguftus with Agrippa, Maecenas, and fome other
perfons by his fide, placing a crown on the head
3 of

Po e try and Pa intin g. 293
of a figure which is now defaced. The Marquifs
Capponi, who has joined to a great fhare of learn
ing a Angular tafte for the ftudy of antiquity, has
alfo ingraved a very Angular piece of ancient paint
ing from his own cabinet. 'Tis the portrait of an
architect with the inftruments of his art lying by
him. This picture was difcovered in an old tomb.
There were feveral other fragments of an
tique paintings fome time ago in the build
ings, commonly comprized under the name of
Titus's therma or hot-baths ; but fome of them
have periffied, as the picture of Coriolanus with
his mother diffuading him from his refolution
to attack the city of Rome, the defign of
which done by Annibal Carraceio and fince in-
graved, is now in the poffeffion of Monfieur
Crozat who had it of Canon Vittoria : and others
have been fince flolen. 'Tis from thence alfo that
Cardinal Maffimi took the four pieces, which are
fuppofed to reprefent the hiftory of Adonis, and
two other fragments. Thefe learned remains fell
after his deceafe into the hands of the Marquifs
Maffimi, and the prints thereof afe to be feen in
Monfieur de la Chauffe's book, intitled, a the an
tique paintings of the Roman grottos. The author
has given us in this work feveral defigns of antique
•paintings, which the public never had been fa
voured with before -, and among the reft, that
of the deling of a "chamber which Was dug up
near St Stephen in Rotunda in the year 1 705 ;
that is, a year before the edition of his work. The
» Le pitiure dntiche delle grotte di Roma.
U 3 figure

294 Critical Reflections on
figure of a woman drawn on a piece of ftuccO,
which belonged to Canon Vittoria, is now at Paris
in. the poffeffion of Monfieur Crozat junior.
As for what remains there are in Titus's ther
ms, thefe are reduced to fome few half-defac'd
paintings. Father Mountfaucon a and Francis
Bartoli b have given us a print of the moft intire
fragment that is to be feen there, which is the
reprefentation of a landfkip.
There was likewife extant in the yeat 1702, in
the ruins of ancient Capua, at about a league's
diftance from the modern city of that name, a
cripto-porticus, or buried gallery, the roof whereof
was painted, and reprefented figures wrought in
different ornaments. In the year 1709, prince Em
manuel of Elbeuf, whilft his people were at work
upon his country-houfe, fituated between Naples
and mount Vefuyius, on the fea-fhore, difcovered
a building adorned with feveral antique paintings ;
but I have not heard that the defign of thefe
has been yet publifhed, no more than of thofe of
ancient Capua.
I do not know of any other antique frag
ments done with a pencil, that are ftill extant,
except thofe above-mentioned. True it is, that
within thefe two laft centuries there have been a
much larger number dug up either at Rome,
or in other parts of Italy ; but I know not by
what fatality the greateft part of them have
periffied, and we have only their defigns re
maining. Cardinal Maffimi made an excellent
» Dim. Ital. p. 13Z. j> Petture antiche. col-

Poetry and Painting. 295
collection of thefe defigns, and by a very odd
adventure he brought from Spain the moft va
luable part of his collection to Rome \ Du
ring his nunciature he had procured a copy of
a porto-folio in the king of Spain's cabinet, which
contained the defigns of feveral antique paint
ings found at Rome, when people commenced
in the fixteenth century to rummage eagerly into
ruins, in order to difcover the fluttered remains
of antiquity. Cavalier del Pozzo, whofe name is
fo famous among the lovers of painting, that very
gentleman for whom Pouffin drew his firft pieces
of the Seven Sacraments, had alfo made a very
handfome collection of antique defigns, which
pope Clement XL purchafed during his pontificate,
to place them in his own private library.
But almoft all the paintings, from which thefe
defigns were drawn, are intirely loft. Thofe of
the tombs of the Nafo family which were dug up
near Pontemole in the year 1674, are no longer
exifting. We have nothing left of the paintings
of this Maufoleum, except the coloured copies,
which were done for Monfieur Colbert and Car
dinal Maffimi, and the prints ingraved by Pietro
Santi Bartoli, which with the explications of Bel-
lori make a volume in folio printed at 'Rome a.
As for the original paintings of thofe tombs,
the veftiges thereof were fcarce remaining forty
years ago, tho' care had been taken to rub
* This colledtion of defigns paffed over afterwards into Eng
land, and is now in the poffeffion of Dr Mead.
* In the year 1680.
U 4 them

296 Critical Reflections on
them with a tincture of garlick proper for the
preferving of frefcos. Notwithftanding this pre
caution, they have been intirely ruined by time. ,
Antiquarians pretend, that this is the deftiny
of all fuch antique paintings as have been inter
red during a great number of years in places
where the external air could have no accefs ; for
this deftrOys them directly, as foon as they
&re expofed again to it's action ; whereas it da
mages thofe that have been buried in places
where it had a free communication, only as it
hurts all other paintings done in frefco. Wherefore
the paintings that were difcovered about twenty
years ago in the Villa Corfini built on the Jani-
culcum, ought td have lafted a long time. The
external air had preferved a free accefs in the tombs
whofe walls they imbellifhed ; but thro' the
fault of the proprietor they were very fhort-lived ;
tho' by good luck we have the prints thereof
ingraved by Bartoli a. But this misfortune is
likely to happen no more -, for Pope Clement Xlth,
who had an extraordinary tafte for the polite arts,
and was a very great lover of antiquities, not hav
ing had it in his power to prevent the deftruc-
tion of the paintings of Villa Corfini under a pre
ceding pontificate* was refblved that the curious
ffiould not reproach his with the like accidents,
which they confider as very unlucky difafterS. Hb
ordered therefore an edict to be publifhed by Car
dinal John Baptifl Spinola, great Chamberlain of
* Lib. de Sepolchri antichf. the

Poetry drid Pa!nting. 297
the Holy See, by which all proprietors of places,
where any veftiges of antique painting fhould be
fouhd, were forbidden to demoliffi the mafpnry,
without exprefs leave.
'Tis obvious that dne cannot without teme
rity Undertake a parallel between ancient and
modern painting, on the ftrength and credit of
thefe antique fragments which have been fo much
injured by time. Befides, thefe few remains
Were not done 'till a long time after the death
of the celebrated painters of Grefece. NoW
"tis manifeft from the writings of the ancients,
that ; the painters Who worked at Rome under
Auguftus and his firft fucceffofsj- were much infe
rior to the famous Apelles, and his illuftrious
cotemporafies. Pliny, who compofed his hiftory
under Vefpafian, and when the arts had attained
already to the higheft degree of perfection under
the emperors, does not mention among thofe pic
tures, which he cPn'fiders as fome of the chief or
naments of the capital of the univerfe, any one
piece Which we can,1 from reafons by him furnifh-
ed, imagine to have been drawn during the time of
the Gefars. We cannot therefore build on the re
maining fragments pf antique paintingr which are
only the ruins of works done at Rome under the
emperors, any fixt judgment concerning the degree
of perfection, to which the Greeks and ancient Ro
mans have carried this delightful art. We cannot
even determine by thefe fragments, to what degree
of perfection the art was arrived at the time of their
drawing. Before

298 Critical Reflections on
Before we can judge from a particular picture,
of the ftate in which the art was, when that piece
was done, one ffiould know pofitively in what
degree of efteem it was at that time,, and
whether it paffed for a rn after -piece in its kind.
What injuftice, for exarnple, would it not be to
our age,, if people, were to judge hereafter of our
prefent ftate of dramatic poetry from the trage
dies of Pradpn .and from Hauteroche's comedies ?
Even in the times moft celebrated for excellent ar
tifts, there have been always a greater number of
indifferent ones ; and generally more bad than
good performances. Now we ffipuld run the rifk of
giving a wrong judgment upon the credit and
ftrength of one of thofe indifferent performances ;
if, for example, we ffipuld attempt to decide in
what ftate the art of painting was at Rome under the
reign of Auguftus, by the figures that are in the py
ramid of Ceftius •, tho' it be yery probable, that
thefe figures painted in frefco were done at the
fame time , the Maufoleum was erected, and
confequently under the reign ofthat emperor. We
cannot tell what rank the artift that drew them,
might have held among the painters of his time ;
and what paffes at prefent in all countries informs
us fufficiently, that a party-intereft frequently
caufes the mpft confiderable undertakings to be
given to artifts of much inferior abilities to thofe
whofe fuperior merit is neglected.
We may indeed compare the antique fculpture
with ours, becaufe we are certain of our having
at this prefent time the mafter-pieces of the Greek
fculpture ;

Poetry and Pain tin g. 299
fculpture; that is, the very choiceft pieces of
antiquity. The Romans in the time of their
greateft fplendor, which was under the reign of
Auguftus, contefted nothing with the Greeks but
the knowledge of government. They acknow
ledged them their mafters in the polite arts, and
particularly in that of fculpture.
Excudent alii fpirantia mollius ara,
Credo equidem, vivos ducent de marmore vultus.
Tu regere imperio populos Romane memento,
Ha tibi erunt artes. Virg. iEneid. 6.

}

Let others better mold the running mafs
Of metals, and inform the breathing brafs,
And foft en into flefto a marble face.
But Rome, 'tis thine alone, with awful fway -j i
Dryden.

To rule mankind, and make the world obey ;
Thefe are imperial arts and worthy thee.

Pliny is of the fame opinion as Virgil. But the
moft precious curiofities of Greece were tranfport-
ed to Rome, and we are fure of our having at
prefent the moft beautiful performances, that were
in the capital of the world, after it had been in-
riched with the moft valuable mafter-pieces, that
ever came from the hands of the Greek artifts.
Pliny a takes very particular notice of the ftatue
of Hercules, which is now in the court-yard of
* Hiftor. 1. 36. the

goo Critical Reflections on
the palace Farnefe, and Pliny. wrote at a time when
Rome had ftripped already the Eaft of one of the
fineft pieces of fculpture that were then at Rome.
This fame author informs us alio a that the. Lao-
eoon which is now feen. in the court-yard of the
palace of Belveder, was the moft precious piecd
of fculpture at Rome in his time. The cha
racter which Pliny gives the ftatues that compofe
the group of Laocoon, the place Where he fays
they were at the time he wrote, which is the
very fame place where they were dug up above
two centuries ago render it certain, notwithstand
ing the fcruples of fome antiquarians, that thefe
ftatues are the fame as thofe mentioned by Pliny.
Thus we are qualified to judge whether the an
cients furpaffed us in the art of fculpture.- The
parties at law, if I may be indulged this phrafe,
have produced thejr writings to prove their refpective
titles. ' Now I never heard of fentence being given
in favour of the modern fcuiptors; _ I never heard,
for example, of Michael Angelo's Mofes being
preferred tp the Laocoon of Belveder. I confefs
notwithftanding, it would be imprudent tb main
tain that! the ancient Greek and ''Roman Painters
furpaffed ours, becaufe the anrient fcuiptors ex
celled the moderns.
'Painting'and fculpture, 'tis true,' are two fitters,
but tfiis doe's not produce, fo ftrict an union be
twixt them, that their fates muft' be in every ref
lect alike. Sculpture, tho* only a younger' fifter
might have left the elder fifter far behind her.
a Hiftor. 1. 35. It

Poetry and Painting. 301
It would be no lefs temerity to decide this
queftion from our pictures not having fuch a pro
digious effect upon us as the antique pieces are
faid to have fometimes produced : Probably the
accounts given by the writers who regiftered thofe
effects are exaggerated, and we are incapable of
knowing what abatement to make, in order to re
duce them to the exact flandard of truth. We know
not what ffiare the novelty of the art of painting
might have had in the impreffion, which fome
pictures are reported to have made on the fpecta
tors. The firft paintings, tho' grofsly done, muft
have appeared like divine performances. The ad
miration which follows a rifing art, throws thofe
who mention its productions very eafily into exag
geration ; and tradition, upon collecting thofe
hyperbolical narratives, has fometimes rendered
them more marvellous than fhe received them.
We find in ancient writers feveral impoffible things
afterted for truth, and ordinary events treated as
prodigies. Befides, can we tell what effect feveral
pieces of Raphael, Rubens, and Annibal Carra-
do, would have produced on men of fo exquifite
a fenfibility, and fo fufceptible of paffion, as
were moft of the countrymen of the ancient pain
ters of Greece ?
In fine, one cannot give a diftindter idea of
pictures to thofe that have not feen them, and
who are not acquainted with the peculiar man
ner of the painter that drew them ; than by the
way of comparifon. We ourfelves, when we
happen to talk to a perfon concerning the
works

302 Critical Reflections on
works of a painter whom he has no knowledge of,
are moved by inftinct to make ufe of this method
of comparifon. We give the idea of a ftrange
painter, by comparing him with fuch painters as
are known ; and this is the beft way of defcribing
fenfible objects. He colprs, we fay, "very like
fuch a one -, he defigns like fuch a perfon ; he
compofes like fuch another. Now we have no
fuch thing as the comparative fentiment of a per
fon who had feen the works of the ancient painters
of Greece, and thofe of the moderns. We do
not even fo much as know , what comparifon
might have formerly been made between the re
maining fragments of antique painting, and thofe
fine pictures of Greece which are no longer ex
tant. The modern writers who have treated of this
fubject, render us more learned, without ena
bling us to decide the queftion of fuperiority be
tween the ancient and modern painters. Thefe
writers are fatisfied with collecting fuch pafiages
of the ancients as treat of painting, and with wri
ting comments on them as philologifts, without
explaining them by an enquiry into the performances
of the painters of our days, and even without ap
plying thofe paffages to the remaining fragments
of antique painting. I am therefore of opinion,
that in order to form as diftinct an idea as poffible
of the performances of the ancients, we ought to
confider feparately all we can know for certain
with refpect to their compofition, their expreffion,
and their colouring.
We

Poetry and Paintin g. 303
We have thought proper in this work to divide
the ordonnance into picturefque and poetic com
pofition. With refpect to the former, we muft
acknowledge, that in thofe monuments which are
extant, the ancient painters do not feem fuperior,
nor even equal to Raphael, Rubens, Paolo Ve
ronefe, or Monfieur Le Brun. Upon fuppofi
tion that the ancients had done nothing better in
this kind than the baffo-relievos, and the medals
and paintings, which have been tranfmitted down
to us, they certainly fell ffiort of the moderns.
Not to mention feveral other defects of the ancient
compofers, their perfpective is generally bad.
Monfieur de la Chauffe a in fpeaking of the land
fkip of Titus's therma, fays, From this picture it is
plain, that the ancients were as unhappy in their
perfpective, as they were learned in their deftgning.
As for the poetic compofition, the ancients
piqued themfelves prodigioufly for excelling in
their inventions -, and as they were great defign-
ers, they had all forts of helps to facilitate their
fuccefs. In order to give an idea of the progrefs
they had made in this part of painting, which
comprizes the great art of the expreffions, we fhall
relate here what the ancient writers mention con
cerning it ; for of all the different parts of paint
ing, the poetic compofition is much the eafieft
defcribed. * Da quefta pittura ft conafce che gli Antichi fono ftati altre-
tanto infelici nella profpettiva, ch"1 eruditi nel d'fegno. Pittur. ,
gnricL p. 13. Pliny,

304 Critical Reflections^
Pliny, who has fpoken rnore methodically of
painting than other writers, reckons the expreffi
on and other poetic inventions as a very great
merit in an artift. 'Tis evident from his accounts,
that this part pf the art was in great efteem among
the ancients, and that it was cultivated amongft
them as much as in the Roman fchool. This au
thor relates as an important piece of hiftory, that
it was a Theban, by name Ariftides, who firft
fhewed it was ppffible to paint the motions of the
foul, and to exprefs the fentiments with ftrokes
and colors in a mute figure ; in ffiort, that there
was an art of fpeaking to the eyes. Pliny
mentioning likewife a picture of Ariftides, which
reprefented a woman ftabbed with a poniard, with
a fucking child at her breaft, expreffes himfelf
with as much tafte and emotion, as Rubens could
have dpne were he talking pf a fine picture of
Raphael'?. One fees, fays he, .on this woman's
dented countenance, already feized with the fymp-
toms of approaching death, the livefieft fenti
ments, and the moft eager follicitude of maternal
tendernefs. Her apprehenfion left the child fhould
receive harm by fucking of blood inftead pf milk,
was fo perfectly marked on the mother's vifage,
the whole attitude of her body accompanied this
expreffion in fo accurate a manner, that it was
eafy to conceive what thought muft have em
ployed the dying parent.
'Tis not fo eafy to fpeak of the expreffion in the
manner as Pliny and other ancient writers have done
without having feen a great number of excellent pieces

Pofc Try and Pai n t in g. 365
pieces in this branch of painting. Befides, thofe
ftatues on which fo learned and correct an expref
fion was exhibited, as oh that of Laocoon^
the Grinder, &c. oiuft have naturally rendered
the ancients Very knowing and even delicate with .
regard to the expreffion. As they had an in
finite number of other pieces, befides the fta
tues above-mentioned, from whence they could
draw moft excellent comparifons, they could not
therefore be fubject to miftake in judging of
the expreffion in pictures, nor take a me
diocrity in this kind for an exquifite degree of
performance. We meet likewife in Pliny with a large number
of facts and details, which prove that the ancient
painters valued themfelves for excelling in the
expreffion, at leaft as much as thofe of the*
Roman fchool. The greateft part of the com
mendations given by the ancient authors to fuch
pictures as they mention, have a relation to the
expreffion. 'Tis on this account that Aufonius
extols the Medea of Timomachus, where Me
dea was drawn in the attitude of lifting up
her poniard to ftab her children* We behold,
fays Aufonius^ rage and compaffion mixt together
on her countenance, and amidft the fury which
tranfports her to commit fo deteftable a murder,
we may ftill defcry the remains of a maternal
tendernefs.

Vol. I. X Immanent

306 Critical Reflections on
Immanem exhauftt rerum in diverfa laborem,
Pingeret affectum matris ut ambiguum.
Ira fubeft lachrymis, miferatio non caret ird,
Alterutrum videas ut fit in alterutro.
'Tis known with what tranfport Pliny commends
the ingenious ftroke of Timanthes, who drew
Agamemnon with his head veiled at the facrifice
of Iphigenia, to fignify that he had not attempted
to exprefs the affliction of the father of this young
viclim. Quintilian mentions this invention in the
fame manner as Pliny, and feveral other ancient
writers fpeak of it as Quintilian % who propofes it
as a ftroke which may ferve as a model for orators.
We have an admirable defcription in Lucian b
of a grand compofition, which reprefented the
marriage of Alexander and Roxana. This picture
muft have affuredly furpaffed fpr the graces of
invention, and for the elegance of its allego
ries, the moft fmiling compofitions of Albano.
Roxana lay reclined on her couch : The beauty
of this young lady, heightened by her virgin
bluffi, which made her caft down her eyes at the
approach of Alexander, drew upon her the firft
a Ut fecit Timanthes  Nam cum in Iphigcniie immola-
tione pinxijfet triftem Cahhantem, triftiorem Ulyjfem, addidijfet
Menelao quern fummum poterat efticere ars moerorem : confumptis
affeBibus, non reperiens quo digne m'odo patris vultum pojfet ex-
primere, velavit ejus caput iff fuo 'cuique animo dedit afti-
mandum. Quint. Inft. 1. z.
b In Herodoto. looks

Poetry and Painting. 307
looks of the fpectator. It was an eafy matter to
diftinguifh by her prefence, that ffie was the
principal figure in the picture. Round her little
Cupids preffed follicitoufly to ferve her. Some
took off her flippers, and others helped to pull
off her cloaths. Another lifted up her veil, that
her lover might have a better view of her face,
and addreffing his fmiles to that prince, he feemed
to congratulate him upon the charms of his mi
ftrefs. Some of them feized on Alexander dreffed
in armour, and led him towards Roxana, in
the pofture of a man defirous of laying his crown
at the feet of the dear object of his paffion.
Hepheftion, a confident of the intrigue, leant
upon Himeneus, to ffiew that the fervices he
had done , his mafter had been calculated to
procure a legitimate union between Alexander
and Roxana. A troop of pleafant Cupids played
in one of the corners of the picture with , the
arms of this prince. This enigma was not
difficult to unriddle, and it could have been wiffi-
ed that our modern painters had never invented
an obfcurer allegory. Some of thefe Cupids car
ried Alexander's lance, and feemed to bend under
the weight of fo heavy a burthen. Others
played with his ffiield, on which they carried in
triumph the little Cupid who had given the pleafing
wound ; while another, who lay in ambuffi in
Alexander's cuirafs, waited for them in their paf
fage, in order to frighten them. This Cupid in
ambufcade might have alluded to fome other mif
trefs of Alexander, or to fome of this prince's mi-
X 2 nifters

308 Critical Reflections on
nifters who intended to traverfe the marriage of
Roxana. A poet would be apt to fay, that the
God Hymen thought himfelf under an obligation
of recompendng the painter who had fo elegantly
celebrated one of his triumphs. This ingenious
artift expofed his picture during the folemnity
of the Olympic games j and ProneXides, who
muft have been a man of diftinction, by having
the direction of the feaft that year, gave his
daughter away in marriage to the painter. Ra
phael has not thought it beneath him to fketch
this very fubject defcribed by Lucian ; and his
defign has been ingraved by one of the difcipleS
of the famous Marco Antonio.
The ingenious author % of whom I have bor
rowed this hiftory, beftows likewife a very parti
cular encomium on the poetic compofition of one
of Zeuxis's pictures, reprefenting the family of
a Centaur. But it is unneceffary to make any
further quotations from the ancient writers. Who
can queftion, after having feen the figures of the
group of Laocoon, but the ancients excelled in the
art which infufes a foul into marble, and lends
fpeech to colors ? There is never a lover of polite arts
but has feen at leaft the copies of the figure of an
expiring gladiator, which was formerly in the Villa
Ludovifi, and h:,s been fince transferred to the
Palace of Prince Chigi. This wretch, wound
ed mortally with the thruft of a fword, is fitting
on the ground, and has yet ftrength enough ftill left
a Lucian in his Zeuxis. to

Poetry and Paintinc. 309
to fupport himfelf on his right arm. Tho' he is
juft ready to expire, we perceive he does not
abandon himfelf to his pain nor weaknefs, and
that he has an attention to preferve the compofure
of his countenance, a thing which the gladiators
piqued themfelves upon at this melancholy moment.
He is not afraid of dying ; he only apprehends
expiring with a wry vifage. Where is there, fays
Cicero a, a gladiator of a midling rank, that ever
ftghs or changes countenance ? Is there any one of
them but what Jhews, not only while he engages,
but even when he falls by the victor's fword,
the greateft fpirit of intrepidity and bravery ? But
to return to the expiring gladiator ; 'tis the pic
ture of a dying man who had but juft received
the wound which bereaves him of life. 'Tis vifi-
ble therefore, that notwithftanding his prefent
ftrength, he has only a moment to live, and we
gaze on him a long time, expecting every mo
ment to fee him expire.
Who is it that has not heard of the celebrated
group, which is ftill to be feen in the Villa Ludo-
vifi, and reprefents a famous event in the Ro
man hiftory, namely the adventure of young Pa-
pirius b ? Every body knows, that this boy hav
ing ftay'd one day with his father, while the fe-
nate were affembled, his mother put feveral quef-
* Sluis mediocris gladiator ingemuit ? $>uis vultum mutavit
unquam ? ^uis- non modi ftetit, verum etiam decubuit turpiter ?
Cic. Tufc. quseft. 1. 2.
J Aulus Gellius, 1. 1. c. 2.
X 3 tions

310 Critical Reflections ora
tions to him upon his coming home, in order to
difcover what had been there tranfacted : for
this fhe did not expect to hear from her huf-
band ; as the Romans were not yet fo complaifant
to their wives. The mother could never get
more than one anfwer from her fon, which left her
no room to doubt but his intention was to
elude her curiofity. He refolutely replied, that
the fenate had debated, whether each hufband
ffiould have two wives, or each wife two huf-
bands. This incident gave rife to the Latin pro
verb, Curia capax pratexta, which is ufed when
fpeaking of a child that has difcretion far fupe
rior to his age.
Never was there a fentiment better expreffed
than the curiofity of the mother of young Papi-
,rius. The foul of this woman feems to be in
tirely feated in her eyes, which pierce through her
fon while fhe careffes him. The attitude of all
the parts of her body concurs with her eyes, and
plainly indicates her intention. With one hand
fhe careffes the youth, while the other feems
contracted. This is a motion very natural to thofe
who ftrive to fupprefs the figns of their inquie
tude juft ready to break loofe. The young Pa-
pirius anfwers his mother with a feeming complai-
fance ; but 'tis vifible this complaifance is only af
fected. Tho' his air be open, tho' his carriage
appears ingenuous, we may guefs by the flinefs of
his fmile, which is not quite formed, but is fome
what reftrained by refpect, that the boy is wil
ling fhe fhould rely on his veracity, while he is far
from

Poetry and Painting. 311
From being fincere. We fee he promifes to tell
her the truth, tho' it is at the fame time vi-
fible he deceives her. Four or five touches, which
the painter has artfully drawn on his face, and
fomething very particular obfervable in the action
of his hands, bely the opennefs and fincerity,
which otherwife appears in his gefture and coun
tenance. We may give the fame commendations to the
figure commonly called the Grinder, which was
dug up at Rome, and transferred fixty years ago
to Florence, where it is preferved in his Royal
Highnefs's cabinet. This figure reprefents the
flave, who, as Livy relates % happened to over
hear the fcheme, which the fons of Brutus had
formed to reftore the Tarquins ; and thus he faved
the infant Republic, by detecting the confpiracy
to the conful.
Prodita laxabant portarum clauftra tyrannis
Exulibus, juvenes ipftus csnfulis £5? quos, &c.
Occulta ad patres produxit crimina fervus,
Matronis Lugendus. Juv. fat. 8.
The conful' s fons (who &c.)
Opened the gates, endeavouring to reftore
Their banijh'd king and arbitrary power,
Whilft a poor flave with fcarce a name betray' d
The horrid ills, thefe well-born rogues had laid ;
I Lib. 2. cap. 4.
X 4 Who.

312 Critical Rfleections on
Who therefore for their t reafon juftly bore
The rods and ax ne'er us'd in Rome before.
Mr. Stepney.
People who are ever fo little attentive may obr
ferve, upon feeing this ftatue, that the flave
who ftoops and puts himfelf exactly in the pofture
of a perfon grinding a knife, that he may ap
pear intirely occupied with his work, is never
thelefs abfent in mind, and gives his attention
not to what he feems to do, but to what he
hears. This abfence of mind is vifible in all his
body, but principally in his hands and head. His
fingers are well placed, as they ought to be, to
weigh down upon the knife, and prefs it to the
ftone, but their action feems quite fufpended.
By a gefture natural to thofe who liften with , an
apprehenfion of being difcovered, our flave endea
vours to lift up the apple of his eye enough to
perceive his object, without raifing his head, as
it would b.e natural for him tp do, were he under
no reftraint.
The talent of defigning affords great helps to
wards fucceeding in the expreffion. 'Tis fuffi
cient to behold the Antinous, the Venus of Medi-
cis, and feveral other monuments of antiquity, to
be convinced that the ancients knew, at leaft as
well as we, how to defign elegantly and correctly.
Their painters had more frequent occafions than
ours to ftudy the naked part of pictures ; and
the exercifes which then were in ufe for fuppling
and ftrengthening human bodies, muft have ren
dered

Poetry and Pain ting. 313
dered them better fhaped than they are in our
times. Rubens in a fmall latin treatife of his,
concerning the ufe we ought to make of antique
ftatues in painting, does not at all queftion, but
that the exercifes praclifed by the ancients gave
fuch a perfection to human bodies, as in our days
they very feldom attain to.
As time has worn out the colors and confound
ed the ffiadowings of the remaining fragments of
ancient painting, it is impoffible for us to judge
how far the painters of antiquity have excelled
in coloring ; or whether they have equalled or fur
paffed the great mafters of the Lombard fchool in
this amiable branch of the art. Befides, we can^
not tell whether the wedding of the Villa Aldo-
brandina and the other fragments extant were
done by a famous colorift, or by an indifferent
artift of that time. All that can be faid for cer
tain, with refpect to their execution, is, that it is
furprizingly bold. Thefe fragments feem to have
been done by artifts, who were as complete maf
ters of their pencils, as Rubens and Paolo Vero-?
nefe. The ftrokes of the Aldobrandine wedding,
which appear very rough and ordinary when ob
ferved pretty near, look extremely well, when we
view this picture twenty fteps off. It was proba
bly at this diftance it was viewed on the wall where
the painter drew it.
One would be apt to imagine, from the accounts
of Pliny and feveral other ancient authors, that
the Greeks and Romans excelled in coloring ; but
before we embrace this notion, we fhould reflect, that

314 Critical Reflections on
that men generally fpeak of coloring with refpect
to what they have feen themfelves. A color-
ift who has furpaffed all his predeceffors, down to
the very time, in which an hiftorian lives who
treats of the ftate of painting in his days, will be
mentioned by that hiftorian as the greateft colorift
imaginable, as a man whofe exquifite abilities have
raifed even the jealoufy of nature. But it frequent
ly falls out afterwards, that this very art is carried
by fucceeding performers to a higher degree of
perfection. The divine colorift of former times,
he that has been fo much extolled by paft writers,
becomes an ordinary performer in comparifon to
later artifts. Our queftion cannot therefore be
decided by hiftorical relations ; to regulate our
judgment we muft have comparative pieces,
which happen to be wanting.
There can be no prejudice formed againft the
coloring of the ancients, from their having been ig
norant of the invention of tempering colors with
oil ; an invention that was difcovered in Flanders
about three hundred years ago. A perfon may
color exceeding well tho' he paints only in frefco.
The mafs of Pope Julius, a performance of Ra
phael, already commended by us for its coloring,
is done in frefco ¦ in the Signature apartment in the
Vatican. With refpect to the chiaro-fcuro, and the be
witching diftribution of lights and fhades ; what
Pliny and other writers of antiquity tell us con
cerning it, is fo very pofitive, and their relations
are fo very circumftantial and probable, that we
cannot

Poetry and Painting. 315
cannot refufe the ancients the honor of having
equalled, at leaft in this branch of the art, the
greateft of our modern painters. The paffages
of thofe authors, whom we did not underftand
thoroughly, whilft the moderns were yet igno
rant of the deluding effects of this magic con
trivance, are no longer intricate and obfeure,
fince Rubens and his eleves, as well as Polydore
of Caravaggio, and other painters have explained
them much better with their pencils, than the
moft learned commentators could have done with
their pens.
The refult of this difcuffion feems to me, that
the ancients carried the defign, the chiaro-fcuro,
the expreffion, and the poetic compofition, as
far at leaft as the moft able moderns. It feems
likewife, that we cannot judge of their coloring;
though we are fufficiently convinced by their
works (on fuppofition of our having the beft
of them) that they have not fucceeded fo well
in the picturefque compofition, as Raphael, Ru
bens, Paolo Veronefe, and fome other modern
painters. The reader will pleafe to recollect what occa
fioned this digreffion on the ability of the anci
ents in the art of painting. After having fpoken
of the advantage which the Latin poets had over
the French, I obferved that the painters of former
ages were not poffeffed of the fame advantage
over the moderns 5 which threw me into a ne
ceffity of producing my reafons for not including
the Greek and ancient Roman painters in my pro-
pofition.

$i6 Critical Reflections on
pofition. To return now from whence I di-
greffed, I fay, jthat thofe painters who appeared
after the reftoration pf the polite arts ; that Ra
phael, for example, and his cotemporaries, had
no manner of advantage over our prefent ar
tifts. The latter are acquainted with all the fe-
crets, and know all the colors, which were
made ufe of by the former.

CHAP. XXXIX.
In what fenfe it may be faid, that nature is
grown rich fince the time of Raphael.
ON the contrary our prefent painters draw
more fuccors from the art, than Raphael
and his cotemporaries could poffibly have done.
; Since that painter's time, nature -and art have per
fected themfelves, and were he to come back into
;the world with the fame abilities, he would
be able to perform ftill more than what he did
at the time in which providence placed him :
.whereas Virgil would find it impoffible to write fo
, good an epic poem in French, as he has done in
, Latin. The Lombard fchool has carried the art
of coloring to a degree of perfection, which it
had not attained during the life of Raphael.
The fchool of Antwerp has likewife made, finee
that painter's time, feveral difeoveries relating to the
magic of the chiaro-fcuro. Michael Angelo of
Cara-

Po etry and Painting. 317
Caravaggio, and his followers, have alfo made
fome excellent difeoveries in this fame branch of
painting, tho' we have room to reproach them
with being too fond of it. In ffiort, nature has
been imbellifhed fince the time of Raphael. Let
us explain this paradox.
Our painters are acquainted at prefent with a
more beautiful and perfecter nature of trees and
animals, than was known to the predeceffors of
Raphael, or even to Raphael himfelf. I ffiall be
fatisfied with producing three examples ; the trees
of the Low Countries, the animals of England
and fome other countries, and .finally the
fruits, flowers, and trees of the Eaft and Weft
Indies. Raphael and his cotemporaries lived at a time
when the Eaft Indies and America were yet undis
covered to painters. People of a particular pro
feffion cannot be faid to have difcovered a coun
try, or to be able to avail themfelves of fuch of its
rich productions as may be of fervice to them,
till fome of their profeffion have travelled through
it. Brafil, for example, was known to merchants
long before it was difcovered to phyficians. It
was not till after Pifo and fome other able phyfi
cians had been in Brafil, that the gentlemen of the
faculty in Europe came to know its trees and fim-
ples. In like manner the eaft of Alia and Ame
rica had been already difcovered to grocers and la
pidaries in the time of Raphael ; but it was not
till after his death that thofe parts of the world
were known to painters, by importing from thence
defigns

318 Critical Reflections on
defigns of the plants, fruits, and ftrange ani
mals of thofe countries, which may contribute
very much to imbelliffi a picture.
'Tis owing to the temperate climate of the
Low Countries, and the nature of the foil, that
the trees in that country grow nearer one another,
are taller, ftraighter, and better flocked with
leaves, than thofe of the fame kind in Greece,
Italy, and even in feveral provinces of France,
The leaves of the trees of the Netherlands are
not Only more numerous, but alfo greener
and larger. Hence their hillocks furnifh a more
verdant, and of courfe a frefher and pleafanter
idea of a landfkip, than thofe of Italy.
The cows, bulls, fheep, and even the fwine,
have a much better conformation in England
than in Italy and Greece. 'Tis true the Ve
netian merchants frequented the fea-port towns of
England before Raphael's time ; the Englifh pil
grims likewife flocked to Rome in great num
bers for the fake of indulgences ; but none of
them were painters, and what they might have
related concerning the animals of that country,
was far from being a regular draught or defign.
It muft be acknowledged indeed, that Raphael
and his cotemporaries ftudied nature in the works
of the ancients, as well as in nature's own pro
ductions. But the ancients themfelves were unac
quainted with the trees and animals now men
tioned. The idea of the beauty of nature,
which they had formed from particular trees
and animals, by taking for their models thofe
3 of

Poetry and Painting. 319
of Greece and Italy ; this Idea, I fay, falls
very ffiort of what nature produces of this kind
in other countries. Hence the fine antique horfes,
even that on which Marcus Aurelius is mounted,
which Peter of Cortona feized with a picturefque,
enthufiafm, ufed to addrefs with this fpeech as often
as he paffed by the capitol : Come forward, daft
thou not know thou art alive ? have not fuch ele
gant proportions, or fo noble a make and air, as
thofe which have been made by fcuiptors who
have had a knowledge of the horfes of the north
of England, and fince the fpecies of thofe ani
mals has been improved in different countries by
the mixture which induftrious nations know how
to make of their breeds.
The horfes of Montecavallo, by reafon of the
vicious proportion of feveral parts of their bo
dies, and efpecially becaufe of their enormous
chefts, appear like wretched things to thofe who
are acquainted with the Englifh and Andalufian
horfes. The infcription which affures us that one
of thefe horfes is the workmanfhip of Phidias,
and the other of Praxiteles, is, I allow, an im
pofture. Neverthelefs they muft have been in
great efteem among the ancients, fince Conftan-
tine had them removed from Alexandria to Rome,
as a precious monument with which he intended
to adorn his hot baths. Myron's cow, that fa
mous cow which the herdfmen miftook for
one of their own flock, when they drove their
cattle to graze around it, was much inferior, in
all probability, to fome thoufands in the nor
thern

320 Critical Reflections on
thern counties of England ; fince it had fo great i.
refemblance with its models. This at leaft is cer
tain, that the bulls, cows, and fwine, which we
behold in antique Low-relieves, are nothing to
compare to the animals of the fame kind we fee
in England. One obferves a beauty in the latter,
which the imagination of artifts, who had not
feen them, could never attain to.
It would be neceffary to know the world almoft
as well as that intelligent being who created it^
and laid it out in its prefent arrangement, to be
able to imagine the perfection which nature is ca
pable of attaining to, by the help of a combina
tion of chances favorable to its productions, and
of circumftances proper for their nurture and im-1
provement. The knowledge of man, with regard
to the conformation of the univerfe, being fo vaftly
limited, he cannot, by lending nature imaginary
beauties, improve her with his inventions, as much
as fhe can perfect herfelf by the affiftance of par
ticular conjunctures : Nay, it frequently happens*
that our imagination fpoils, inftead'of improving^
the beauties of nature. Wherefore, as long as
men proceed in the difcovery of unknown coun
tries, and the curious obfervators continue to im
port new treafures from thence ; nature, confi
dered with refpect to painters and fcuiptors, will
always continue to receive new improvements.

CHAP.

Poetry and Painting. 321
CHAP. XL.
Whether the effect which painting produces on
men, be greater than that of poetry.
I AM of opinion, that the effect which paint-*
ing produces on men, furpaffes that of poe
try ; and am induced to think thus for two rea
fons. The firft is, that painting operates on us
by means of the fenfe of feeing. The fecond,
that it does not employ artificial figns, as poetry,
but natural ones ; by which it makes its imita
tions. Painting makes ufe of the eye to move us,
Now as Horace fays,
Segnius irritant animos demiffa per auremt
Quam qua funt oculis fubject a fidelibus.
Hor. de arte^
Things only told, tho' of the fame degree,
Do raife our paffions lefs than what we fee 5
For the fpectator takes in every part,
. The eye's the faithfulleft fervant to the heart.
Creech.
The fight has a much greater empire over the foul
than any of the other fenfes. 'Tis a fenfe in'
which the foul, thro' an inftinct ftrengthened by
experience, places the greateft confidence. She
Vol. I. Y appeals

322 Critical Reflections on
appeals to the fenfe of feeing, from the reports
made by the other fenfes, when fhe fufpects
thefe reports of infidelity :, Wherefore there is no
noife, nor even any natural found that affects us
as much as vifible objects. For example, the
cries of a wounded man whom we do not fee, do
not move us, tho' acquainted with the caufe
thereof, as much as we fhould be touched at the
fight of his bleeding wounds. We may fay here,
metaphorically fpeaking, that the eye is nearer to
the foul than the ear.
. In the next place, the figns with which pain
ters addrefs us, are not arbitrary or inftituted,
fuch as words employed in poetry. Painting
makes ufe of natural figns, the energy of which
does not depend on education. They draw their
force from the relation which nature herfelf has
fixed between our organs and the external objects,
in order to attend to our prefervation, Perhaps
T do not exprefs myfelf properly, in faying, that
the painter makes ufe of figns ; 'tis, nature herfelf
which he exhibits to our fight. Tho' our mind
be not impofed upon, our fenfes at leaft are de
luded. The figure of the objects, their color, the
reflection of light, theffiades, in fhort, every thing
that can be the object of fight, prefent themfelves
in a picture, juft as we fee them in nature. Even
fometimes the eye is fo dazzled by the perform
ance of a great painter, as to fancy a movement
in his figures.
The moft tender verfes can affect us only by
degrees, and by fetting the feveral fprings of
our

Poetry WPainting^ 323
our machine fucceffively to work. Words muft
firft excite thofe ideas, whereof they are only ar
bitrary figns. Thefe ideas muft be ranged after
wards in the imagination, and form fuch pictures
as move and engage us. All thefe operations,
'tis true, are foon done •, but it is an uncontefta-
ble principle in mechanics, that the multiplicity
of fprings always debilitates the movement, by rea
fon that one fpring never communicates to another
all the motion it has received. Befides, one of
thefe operations (that which is performed when
the- word excites the idea it fignifies) is not done
by virtue of the laws of nature ; but is partly
artificial. Thofe objects therefore, which are exhibited' to
us by pictures acting as natural figns, muft cer
tainly operate with greater expedition. The im
preffion they make on us muft be ftronger and
quicker, than that which can arife from verfes.
When we read in Horace a the defcription of
loVe whetting his fiery darts on a ftone imbru
ed with blood ; the words, which the poet adopts
in the drawing of his picture, excite within us the
ideas of thefe objects ; and thefe ideas form after
wards a picture in our imagination, reprefenting
love in this attitude and employment. This image
indeed moves us ; but when it is exhibited in paint
ing, it becomes much more affecting. We be
hold then at one immediate view, things which
in verfe are reprefented fucceffively only to our
a Lib. 2. od. 8.
Y 2 imagination.

324 Critical Reflections on
imagination. Thus the image contained in thefe
verfes,

Ferus 6? Cupido

Semper ardentes acuens fagittas
Cote cruenta.
And Cupid, fharp'ning flaming darts
On bloody whetftones, gently fmiles.
Creech.
feems in fome meafure a new reprefentation, and
ftrikes afrefher and ftronger impreffion on thofe that
beholdit in a picture atChantilly. Here the painter
has made ufe of this image for the ground-work of
a piece, the principal figure of which is the por
traiture of a princefs iffued from the blood Royal
of France, a princefs more celebrated in our days
for her beauty, the fame whereof will defcend to
pofterity, than illuftrious for her dignity and
birth. This picture exhibits feveral little Cupids,
who are turning a grind-ftone. A Cupid who
has pricked his arm, lets his blood fpout upon
the ftone, while another whets his darts, and with
the fteel thereof ftrikes out fparks of fire.
In fine, there is no body hardly but what has
had feveral occafipns during his life-time, of ob
ferving, how much eafier it is to make men ap
prehend, what we are defirous of conveying to
their imagination or underftanding, by means of
^je eye, than by the help of the ear. A defign
2 which

Poetry and Painting. 325
which exhibits the elevation of a palace, makes
us inftantly comprehend the nature of the build
ing ; and the plan thereof gives us immediately
an idea of the diftribution of the apartments.
But a methodical difcourfe of an hour's length,
let us be ever fo attentive, would never malce
us underftand fo well what we fee here at One
glance. The very cleareft phrafes fupply but popr-
ly the want of defigns, and it very rarely hap
pens, that the idea of a building, formed by our
imagination, even from the defcription of peo
ple of the profeffion, is exactly conformable to the
edifice. It falls out frequently, that when we
afterwards behold the building, we find our
imagination had a chimerical notion of it. The
fame thing happens with regard to the adjacent
parts of a fortrefs, the incampment of an army,
a field of battle, a new plant, a ftrange animal,
a machine ; and, in ffiort, to all thofe objects on
which our curiofity can be amufed. ' We muft
have cuts, to underftand furely and diftinctly the
moft methodical books written on thefe fubjects.
For the moft regular imagination frequently forrus
chimeras, upon attempting to draw a picture from
thefe defcriptions ; efpecially when the perfon who
draws by imagination has never feen thefe or fi-
milar objects himfelf. I can conceive very well,
for example, that a military perfon can form an
image of a particular attack or incampment from
a defcription -, but one who never faw either in-
campments or attacks cannot acquire a juft
idea of thefe things from bare relations. 'Tis
Y 3 only

326 Critical Reflections on
only in reference to fuch objects as^ we have feen,
that we are capable of forming an exact image of
things defcribed.
Vitruvius, in his book of Architecture, has add
ed a vaft deal of method and art (which he was a
complete mafter of) to as much perfpicuity as
his fubject could poffibly admit. Neverthelefs,
as the figures with which he accompanied his ex
plications have periffied through the injury of
time, the greateft part of thefe explications feem
to be wrapt up in great obfcurity. The learned
therefore difpute the meaning of feveral paffages ;
but they all agree that his text would be clear,
had we not loft his figures. Four lines drawn
out on a piece of paper would clear up, what
whole volumes of commentaries can never re
concile. The moft able anatomifts agree alfo in
this, that it would be difficult for them to
underftand juftly a defcription of a new dif
covery, if there were no cuts given with this
defcription. One of the moft common Ita
lian proverbs fays, that every thing can be eafi
ly underftood by the help of defign and figure.
The ancients pretended, that their Gods were bet
ter ferved by their painters and fcuiptors, than by
their poets. They imagined that pictures and
ftatues recommended the Gods to the veneration
of the people, by rendering them attentive to the
marvels, which the poets related of their Deities.
The ftatue of Jupiter Olympius inclined the vul
gar to believe the fable, whish made Jove ruler
and diftributer of the thunder.
3 Si

Poetry WPainting. 327
Si Venerem Cous nunquam pinxiffet Apelles,
Merfa fub aquoreis ilia lateret aquis.
Ovid de Art. 1. 3.
Had not Apelles drawn the fea-born queen,
Her beauties ftill beneath the waves had been.
CONGREVE.
To alledge more pofitive proofs, when the body
pf Julius Casfar was- laid on the funeral pile, it
was natural for every one to inquire into the_
circumftances of the affaffinate. It can hardly be
fuppofed that any of the inhabitants of Rome
were ignorant of the number of ftabs, which
pierced the dictator's body : And yet the people
only wept at the relation of his murder. But the
whole multitude were feized with terror, when
they faw difplayed before their eyes the robe im-
purpled with blood, in which Casfar was maffa-
cred. It looked then, fays Quintilian, fpeaking
of the power the eye hath over the foul, as if
the murderers were actually affaflinating Casfar in
the prefence of the people a.
In the times of the old Romans, thofe who had
been caft away, went about to beg charity, carry
ing a picture with them, in which their misfor
tune was reprefented, as an object more capable
1 Sciebatur interfeBum eutn. V eft is tamen ilia J anguine
madens ita repreefentavit imaginem fceleris, ut non occifus
efe Ctefar, fed turn maxime occidi videretur. Quint. Inft.
1. 6. c. 2.
Y 4 of

3.28 Critical Reflections on
of moving compaffion, and of exciting people's
charity, than the moft pathetic recitals of their
difafters. We can appeal therefore to the know
ledge and experience of thofe, whofe fubfiftence
depends on the pious liberality of their fellow-
citizens, concerning the moft proper and effectual
methods of foftening the heart of man.
There may be one objection made againft my
fentiment, to prove that verfes have a greater
force of moving than1 pictures. The objection is,
that it is very rare to fee a picture draw tears,
which is a common effect even of thofe tragedies,
that have "no fuperior excellence in their kind.
I have two anfwers to make to this objection.
The firft is, that it concludes nothing abfolutely in
favor of poetry. A tragedy reprefented on the
ftage, produces its effect by means of the eye-,
and is fuppcrted by foreign fuccours, whofe power
we fhall prefently explain. Tragedies that are
read in private, very feldom make us weep ;
efpecially when we read them without having
feen them previoufiy aded. For, as I apprehend,
a private reading, which is incapable of itfelf of
making fuch an impreffion as to draw tears, may
be able neverthelefs to renew this imprefficn.
Hence, methinks, it arifes, that thofe who have
only privately perufed a tragedy, and thofe who
have feen it acted op the ftage, are fometimes of
different opinions with regard to the merit of the
piece. My fecond anfwer is, that a tragedy includes
SO infinite number of pictures. A painter who
draws

Poetry and Pain t inc. 329
draws the facrifice of Iphigenia, reprefents on
ly one inflant of the action^ But Racine's tra
gedy exhibits to our fight feveral inftants of
this action ; and the different incidents contri
bute to render one another reciprocally more pa
thetic. The poet prefents us fucceffively with fifty
pictures, as it were, which lead us gradually to
that exceffive emotion, which commands our tears.
Forty fcenes therefore of a tragedy ought natural
ly to move us more, than one fingle fcene drawn
in a pidure. A pidure does not even reprefent
more than one inflant of a fcene. Wherefore
an intire poem affeds us more than a pidure ;
tho' the latter would move us more than a fingle
fcene reprefenting the fame event, were it to be de
tached from the reft, and read without having feen
any of the preceding fcenes.
A pidure therefore makes but one attack Upon
the foul, whereas a poem affails it for a long
time, and always with new arms. A poem ufes
many repeated efforts before it throws us into
that emotion which commands our tears. Racine,
to make us tremble with horror, when Iphigenia
is conduded to the fatal altar, reprefents her
virtuous, amiable, and cheriffied by her lover,
whom ffie likewife loves. Thus he makes us
pafs through feveral degrees of emotion ; and, to
give us, a greater fenfibility of the misfortunes of
the vidim, he lets us even flatter our imagination
for fome time, that fhe has efcaped the facrificer's
knife, A pain-

330 Critical Reflections on
A painter whq reprefents the inflant, in which
the. . prieft is going tp plunge the. hallowed fteel
ipto Iphigenia's bofom^ has not the advantage of ex-
pofinghis pidure before fpedators fp tenderly diA
ppfed, and fo lately warmed with friendffiip for this
princefs. The moft he can, do is to intereft. us in
her favpr, but he cannot render her fo amiable as
the poet. The greatnefs of foul, and all the ele
vated fentiments of a good natural difpofition,
which the poet lends Iphigenia, are more capable
of conciliating our affedions, than the external
qualities with which a painter irnbelliffi.es the mute
perfonage of his pidure. Hence we are more
moved by a poem than a pidure, tho' painting
hath a greater empire over us than poetry.
The kind pf parallel I have now drawn, is not
fo full of erudition, as the comparifon of painting
and poetry in the learned book pf Junius the fon,
on the painting of the ancients ; but my reflec
tions, I fancy, are more to the purpofe than the
erudition of this author ".
r. The induftry of man has found out various
means of rendering pidures ftill more capable of
making impreffion upon us. In the firft place
they contrive to varnifh them. Secondly they in-
clofe them in gilt frames, which throw a new luftre
upon their colors, and feem, by feparating the
pidure from neighbouring objeds, to unite better
the feveral parts whereof they are compofed ; in
the fame manner almoft, as a window feems to
f Junius de pift. vet. 1. 4. c. 1. collect

Poetry and Paintin g.^ 33 f
colled the different objeds that are feen thro' it.
Finally, fome of the more modern painters have
found out a contrivance of placing in compofitions
intended for a diftant view, fome parts of figures
in relievo which belong to the ordonnance, and
are colored like the other painted figures. They
pretend that the eye, which fees thofe parts in re
lievo diftindly prominent in the pidure, is more
eafily impofed upon by the painted parts, which
are really flat, and that the latter are rendered
thus more capable of deluding the eyes. But
thofe who have feen the arched roof of the An-
nunciata at Genoa, or that of the Gefu at Rome,
where figures in relievo are taken into the ordon
nance, do not find this hath any fuch marvellous
effed. Human induftry has been of much greater fer
vice to verfes than pidures. By induftry there
have been three methods difcovered of giving
them a new force to pleafe and move us.
Thefe are fimple recitation ; the recitation ac
companied with the movements of the body, which
is called declamation ; and finging.

CHAP.

332 Critical Reflections on

CHAP. XLI.
Of fimple recitation and declamation.
TiHE firft poets muft have perceived, that
their verfes received a force from reci
tation, which they have not when a perfon reads
them privately to himfelf. This induced . them
of courfe to recite their poems, rather than'give
them to be read. The harmony of the verfes
which a perfon recites, flatters the ear, and in-
creafes the pleafure which the fubjed is capa
ble of imparting. On the contrary, the adion
of reading is in fome meafure a pain. 'Tis an
operation which the eye learns, to make by the
affiftance of art, and is not attended ' with any
agreable fenfation, fuch as that which rifes from
the application of the eye to the objeds exhibited
by pidures.
As words are arbitrary figns of our ideas, fo the
different charaders of which writing is. com
pofed, are arbitrary figns of the founds whereof
the words are compofed. 'Tis therefore necef
fary, when we read verfe, that the charaders
fhould immediately excite the idea of thofe founds,
of which they are arbitrary figns ; and 'tis necef
fary likewife, that the founds of words, which are
alfo no more than arbitrary figns, ffiould excite
the ideas affixed to thefe words. With whatever
expedition and facility thefe operations are per
formed, they cannot be gone through fo readily as

Poexry and Painting. 333
as a fingle operation. .This is what happens in
the recitation, where the word we hear raifes im
mediately the idea conneded with it.
I am not ignorant, that a fine edition of a book,
the charaders of which are extremely regular and
black, and are ranged in an elegant proportion on a
clear white paper, affords a very pleafing fenfation
to the eye ; but this pleafure, be it great or fmall,
in proportion to the tafte a perfon has for the art
of printing, is a diftind thing, that has nothing
in common with the emotion caufed by reading a
poem. Even this pleafure ceafes, as foon as a
perfon applies his attention to the reading ; and
then he is no longer fenfible of the beauty of the
impreffion, but by the eafe it gives the eye in di
ftinguiffiing the charaders and affembling the
words. To confider an Elzevir Virgil as a beau-
ful impreffion, and to read Virgil's verfes in
order to be affeded with their charms, are two
diftind adions. Our 'difpute regards the latter,
which of itfelf is no fort of pleafure.
'Tis fo far from being a pleafure, and fo little
it makes us feel of the. harmony of the verfe,
that we are taught . by ihftind to pronounce
aloud thofe verfes which we read only for our
felves, when we think they. ffiould be numerous
and harmonious. This is a judgment which the
mind forms by an unpremeditated operation 9,
an operation which we underftand only by re?
fledion. Such are moft of the operations of
the mind hitherto fooken of; as alfo, the
greateft

334 Critical Reflections in
greateft part of thofe which we fhall hereafter have
occafion to mention. •
The recitation therefore of verfe is a pleafure
tp the ear ; whereas reading is a labor to the eye.
By hearing verfes recited, we fave ourfelves the
trouble of reading, while we perceive their ca
dence and harmony. The auditor is more indul
gent than the reader, by reafon of his being more
flattered with the verfes he hears, than the other
is with thofe he read?. Is it not acknowledging,
that the recitation impofes on our judgment, to
defer giving our opinion on the merit of a poerh
which pleafed us in the recitation, till we have
examined it diligently by a private perufal ? We
muft not (people fay) be too forward in paf
fing our judgment ; for the recitation is frequent
ly very impofing. The experience therefore of
our own fenfes teaches us, that the eye is a much
feverer critic, a much fubtler examiner of a poem
than the ear ; by reafon that it is not expofed
on this occafion, like the ear, to be feduced by
pleafure. The more a work pleafes,. the lefs
we are capable of deteding and computing its
faults. Now a work which a perfon hears recited,
is much more agreable than that which he pri
vately perufes in his clofet.
Thus we fee that all poets, either thro' inftihd,
or from a convidion of their intereft, chufe rather
to recite their verfes than to give them to be
read, even to thofe whom they intruft with every
fecret relating to their produdions. They are in
the right of it, if they feek for praife rather than
ufeful counfels. It

-. Poetry and Pa jnt in g. 335;
It was by the way pf recitation that the ancient
poets publiffied fuch . of their works, as were not
compofed for the theatre. We find by Juvenal's
fatyres % that there were numerous affemblies
eftabliffied at Rome,- for hearing the recital of
thofe poems with which authors intended to favor
the public. We even meet in the cuftoms of
thofe times, with a. much ftronger proof of the
pleafure arifing from the fimple recitation of har
monious verfes. The Romans, who frequently
mixed other amufements with the pleafure of their
repafts, ufed fometimes to have Homer, Virgil,
and other excellent poets, read to them at
table, tho' the greateft part of the guefts muft
have been fuppofed to know by heart a part
of the verfes recited on thofe occafions. But
they 'reckoned, that the pleafure of numbers
and harmony was able to fupply the want of npr
velty." Juvenal promifes a friend whom he invites to
come and fup with him, that he fhall hear Ho
mer and Virgil's verfes recited during the time
of repaft, as in our times we ffiould promife, to.
entertain our guefts with a game of cards after
fupper. " Tho' my reader (fays he) be not. one
tC of the clevereft at his bufinefs, yet as the verfes
" he is to read us are extremely beautiful, they'
" will certainly afford us fome pleafure."
No/lra dabunt alios hodie convivia ludos,
Conditor. Iliados cantabitur atque Maronis,
a Satyr prim. & fept. Altifoni,

'336 Critical Reflections on
Altifoni, dubiam facientia carmina palmam ;
ghcid refert tales verfus qua voce legantur ?
Juv. fat. ji.
But my poor entertainment is defign' d,
T' afford you pleafures of another kind ;
Tet with your tafte your hearing fhall be fed,
And Homer' s facred lines and Virgil'j read .*
Either of whom does all mankind excel,
Tho' which exceeds the other none can tell. ,
It matters not with what ill tone they're fungi
Verfe fo fublimely good no voice can wrong.
CoNGREVE.'
If a fimple recitation adds fo much energy to
a poem, 'tis eafy to conceive what advantage
pieces declaimed on the ftage, muft draw from
the reprefentation. If thofe who think Terence's
comedies frigid, had feen them aded by the
ancient comedians, who had at leaft as much
vivacity as the Italian players of our times, they
would foon be of another opinion. Who is it that
would put Surene's Vintage a in his library, (an
obfervation which Qiiintilian b makes of fome
pieces of his time) were this comedy to be co-
" Les vendanges de Surene.
* Scenici aBores eptimis poetarum tantum adjiciunt gratia, ut
not infinite magis eadem ilia audita quam leBa deleBent, Ssf
iiilifiimis etiam quibufdam impetrant aures, ut quibus nullus
eft in bibliothecis locus, fit etiam in theatris. Quint. Lift.
©rat. 1. 11. c. 3. pied

Poetry and Painting^ 337
pied, as it muft have been in his days, when the
art of printing was not yet invented ? Neverthelefs
the reprefentation of this farce affords us fome
diverfion. The apparatus of the ftage prepares us for be
ing moved, and the theatrical adion gives a fur-
prifing force to verfe. As the eloquence of the
body is no lefs perfuafive than that of words,
geftures are of great affiftance to the voice in
making an impreffion. This we learn even by
inftind, which informs us, that thofe who hear
us fpeak, without feeing us, are but half hearers.
In fad, as Cicero obferves a, nature has affigned a
particular air of countenance and gefture to each
paffion and fentiment.
The chief merit of a declaimer, is to move
himfelf. The internal emotion of the fpeaker
throws a pathos into his tone and gefture,
which neither art nor fludy are able . to produce.
We are prejudiced in favor of adors who feem to
be moved ; and difpleafed with thofe whp ffiew no
fymptoms of paffion. Now a kind of cold nefs in
exclamations, a forced gefture, and an affeded
countenance, difcover always the indolent ador,
and fhew him to be a perfon who is moved
only by art, and who would fain make us weep,
without feeling any afflidion himfelf; a moft
difagreable charader, which borders in fome mea
fure upon that of an impoftor.
* Omnis enim motus animi fuum quendam a natura habet vul-
tum, tjf fonum, & geftum. Cic. 1. 3. de orat.
Vol. I. Z Si

338 Critical Reflections on
Si vis me filer e, dolendum eft
Primum ipfi tibi. Hor. de arte poet.
My grief with others juft proportion bears,
To make me weep, you muft be firft in tears.
Creech.
Whoever pradifes any of thofe arts, whofe aim
is to move mankind, muft exped to be judged
according to this maxim of Horace: that to make
others weep, we ffiould grieve firft ourfelves. A
paffion is but poorly imitated, which appears only
from the teeth outward. To exprefs it well, it
ffiould have made at leaft fome flight impreffion
upon the heart a.
I appfehend therefore, that the genius requifite
to form an excellent declaimer, confifts in a fen
fibility of heart, which makes him enter mechani
cally, but with affedion, into the fentiments of
the perfonage he ads. It confifts in a mechanic
difpofition to be aduated eafily by all thofe paf
fions, which he has occafion to reprefent. Quin
tilian b, who was of opinion, that his profeffion
of teaching eloquence laid him under an obligation
of fludying the motions of the human heart, at
leaft as much as the rules of grammar, fays, that
the orator who moves moft, is he that is moft
a Nee agamus rem quafi alienam, fed afiuamus parumper il
ium dolorem. Quint. 1. 6. c. l.
b Imagines rerum quifquis bene conceperit, is erit in affeBibus
poteittiftimus. 1.6. c. 1 .
moved.

Poetry WPainting. 339
moved. He fays again, fpeaking De affectibus
qui effinguntur. imitatione, or of the imitation of
the paffions which the orator ufes in his de
clamation, that it is effentially neceffary for a
declaimer to heat his imagination, by making
a lively reprefentation to himfelf of fuch ob
jeds as he intends to employ in order to move
others, and to be as much afftded with the images
he conceives as with the objeds themfelves \
Thofe orators and comedians, who have been
moft eminent in their profeffions, were perfons
born with the fenfibility here mentioned. 'Tis
a qualification which is not in the power of art
to give. Without it, the filver found of voice,
and all the other talents of nature will never be able
to form a good declaimer. We may always
make the fame obfervation on good adors, as
Quintilian b made on the players of his time ;
which is, that they appeared with ' tears in their
eyes coming off the ftage, when they had been
ading fome very ingaging part.
, As women have a quicker and more docile
fenfibility, and a greater flexibility, as it were,
in their hearts than men -, they fucceed better
than our fex in performing what Quintilian re
quires of thofe who attempt to declaim. They
a Primum eft bene aftici, iff concipere imagines rerum, iff tan
quam veris moveri. Quint. 1. j 1. c. 3.
b Vidi ego fape hiftriones atque Comaedos, cum ex aliquo gra-
viore aBu perfonam depofuiffent , fientes adhuc sgrcdi. Id.
1. 11. c. 3.
Z 2 are

340 Critical Reflections on
are much eafier affeded with fuch paffions as they
chufe to imitate ; and enter with a better grace
into the fentiments of the perfonage they intend
to ad. Wherefore, tho' men are more capable
than women of a ftrong and clofe application ;
tho' the education they receive renders them
fitter for learning whatfoever the art can teach ;
there have been neverthelefs a greater number
of excellent adreffes than adors on the French
ftage, within thefe threefcore years. Since the
opera has been eftabliffied in France, we have not
feen one man excel fo well in the art of the
proper declamation for accompanying the recita
tive as Mademoifelle Rochoix.

CHAP. XLII.
Of the French manner of reciting tragedy
and comedy.
AS the end of tragedy is to excite terror and
compaffion, and as the marvellous is an
effential part of this poem ; we ffiould inveft
the perfonages, with all the dignity poffible.
Flence thefe perfonages are commonly appa
relled at prefent in, dreffes of our own in
vention ; the firft idea of which was borrowed of
the military habit of the ancient Romans ; a habit
noble of its nature, and which feems to have been
fuited to the glory of the people that wore it. The
3 dreffes

Poetry and Painting. 341
dreffes of our adreffes are the richeft and moft
majeftic that fancy can invent. On the contrary,
we employ the town-dreffes, that is, fuch as are
ufed in common life, in the reprefentation of co
medies. The French do not depend upon drefs alone,
for giving the adors of tragedy a fuitable dignity
and grandeur. We infift likewife, upon their
fpeaking with a tone of voice more elevated,
graver, and more fuftained than that which is
ufed in common converfation. All the little
negligences which cuftom authorizes in the pro
nunciation of familiar difcourfe, are forbidden in
our tragedies. 'Tis-true this manner of reciting is
more troublefome than a pronunciation border
ing upon ordinary converfation ; but, befides
being more majeftic, it is alfo more advan
tageous for the fpedators, who are better enabled
thereby to underftand the verfes. The fpec
tators, who are moft of them at fome diftance
from the ftage, would find it too difficult to un
derftand properly ' the figurative ftyle of tragic
verfes, were they recited lower and quicker ; efpe
cially if they were to fee a piece aded for the
firft time. A great part would efcape them;
and that which they had loft would frequently
obftrud their being moved with what they
underftood. 'Tis requifite alfo, that the gef-
tures of tragic adors be exader and nobler, their
ftep and gate more grave, and their countenance
more ferious than thofe of comic perfonages. In
firie, we infift upoh tragic adors giving an air of
Z 3 grandeur

342 Critical Reflect ions on
grandeur and dignity to whatfoever they do ; as
we require of poets who find them words, to
give the like grandeur and dignity to whatever
they make them fay.
Wherefore we find, that according to the
general opinion of the people of Europe, the
French fucceed beft at prefent in the reprefenta
tion of tragedies. When envy, fays Quintilian a,
is extinguijhed, civility and good- nature take place.
The Italians, who are willing to do us juftice,
with regard to thofe arts and talents in which
they do not claim set the honor of excelling
themfelves, allow that our tragic declamation
gives them an idea of the theatrical finging cr,
declamation of the ancients, which is loft. . In
fad, to judge of the theatrical declamation cf
the Romans as well as of the Greeks, ¦ (the Ro
man ftage having been formed from the Greek)
by what Quintilian fays of it, the recitation of
the ancients muft have been fomething bordering
upon our tragic declamation.
But concerning this fubjed, we fhall fpeak more
at large in our treatife of the mufic of the an
cients, which the reader will find at the end of
this work.
'Tis fufficiently agreed upon, as we have ob
ferved, throughout Europe, that the French, who
for this century paft have compofed the beft dra
matic pieces among the moderns, recite tragedies
alfo the beft, and reprefent them with the great -
3 Quoties difcejjit amulatio, fuccedit hitmanitas. Quint.
I. it. cap. i. eft

Po e T RY and Pa i n t i n g. 343
eft decency. In Italy the adors recite their tra
gedies with the fame tone and gefture as comedy ;
fo that the cothurnus does not differ there from
the foccus. If the Italian adors attempt to grow
warm in pathetic paffages, they ftrait overdo
their part, and the hero becomes a bragado-
cio. I ffiall only mention one word concern
ing their tragedies made for declamation.
They are as much inferior to Corneille's and
Racine's pieces, as the leaft indifferent of our
epic poems fall ffiort of Ariofto's Rolando furiofo,
or Taffo's Gerufalemme liberata. Either thro*
a defpair of fuccefs, or from fome other motives
which I. cannot divine, they feem to have
long negleded their dramatic, poetry. Machia-
vel's Mandragora, one of the beft comedies
that has been wrote fince Terence's time, and
which we ffiould fcarce imagine to be a produdion
of that brain, from whence fuch profound refledi-
ons have iffued on war, and politics, but principally
on confpiracies ; is an only piece of its kind
in the Italian. The Clitia by the fame author
is a much inferior performance. I do not think,
that in the whole courfe of the feventeenth cen
tury, the Italian preffes have furnifhed us with
above thirty tragedies made for declamation,
tho' they have publiffied during' that fpace of
time a great many works of wit and humor.
At leaft, I have not met with a greater number
in the catalogues of this kind of writing, which
the Italians eminent in the Republic of letters have
given us within thefe twenty years, on occafion of
Z 4 the

344 Critical Reflections on
-the difputes they have lately fuftained for the ho
nor of their nation.
The Italian dramatic poets compofe nothing now
but operas, in comparifon to which all Europe
allows, that our French operas are mafter-
pieces of wit, good fenfe, and regularity. Ab
bot Gravina publiffied about thirty years ago at
Naples, five tragedies compofed for declamation.
Their names are Palamedes, Andromeda, Appius
Claudius, Papinian, and Servius Tullius. He
complains elegantly in a preface in verfe, prefix
ed to thefe tragedies, that Melpomene, for whom
the ftage was firft invented, appears now in Italy,
only as a hand-maid to Polyhymnia ; in ffiort, that
fhe is become a mean flave to painting, mufic,
and fculpture.
E in vece dadoprar le forze proprie,
¦ . Debba le forze adoprar de gl' artefici,
Di Cantori, Pittori, e Statuarii,
Di quali e divenufa ancilla ignobile
Colei che fiopra loro ha' I fommo imperio,
E fopra le fcene ha, minor parte ed infima
$>uella per cui le fcene' s'inventarono.
In another part of Europe the pathetic of tra
gic declamation confifted, about forty years
ago, in a furious tone of voice, a fuljen or wild
carriage, and frantic geftures. The adors on
the tragic ftage now mentioned, were difpenfed
with all grandeur in their gefture, with meafure in

Poetry and Painting. 345
in their pronunciation, dignity in their carriage,
and decency in their gate. It was fufficient for
them to make a fhow of a black and difmal fur-
linefs, or to feem abandoned to the tranfports of
a fury which led them into idle and extravagant
foeeches. On this ftage, Julius Csefar was allow
ed to pull himfelf by the hair to exprefs his cho*
ler, J,ike one of the dregs of the people. Alex
ander, to fignify his paffion, might ftamp with
his foot ; a fign which even our fehool-boys are
not allowed in ading tragedies at our colleges.
In another country, the heroes debafe them
felves intirely by the low indecencies they ad on
the ftage. In one of thefe fcenes you may fee
Scipio fmoaking a pipe of tobacco, and drinking
a pot of beer in his tent, while he is meditating
the plan of the battle he is upon the point of
giving the Carthaginians.
I ffiall fay nothing here concerning the Flemifh
ftage, by reafon that in the tragic part, they fcarce
do any thing more than copy the French fcenes of
thofe times, when plays were aded on our Savi
our's paffion. They have but a very fmall num
ber of original tragedies, and their declamation is
only fomewhat lefs mufical, and lefs animated than
that of the French adors.
Our tragic fcenes are not only noble, but are
alfo purged of all frivolous pageantry ; they are
free from thofe childiffi fhows, which help on
ly to degrade Melpomene of her dignity. Let
us hear what one of the greateft tragic poets of

346 Critical Reflections on
of England fays, whh regard to the decency of
our reprefentations \ I fhould therefore, in this
particular, recommend to my countrymen the example
of the French ftage, where the kings and queens al
ways appear unattended, and leave their guards be
hind the fcenes. I fhould likewife be glad if we
imitated the French in banijhing from our ftage the
-noife of drums, trumpets, and huzza' s ; which is
fometimes fo very great, that when • there is a battle
in the Hay -market theatre, one may hear it as far
as Charingr crofs.
Mr. Addifon, whom I have here quoted, men
tions many other things in . this effay, and in
that publiffied eight days after, againft feveral other
common pradices of the Englifh ftage, Which he
very juftly eenfures as vicious. Such; is the cuf
tom of expofing the apparatus of the moft
frightful puniffiments, and, fometimes the very pu-
niffiments themfelves. Such, is the pradice of in
troducing hideous fpedres and. dreadful appari
tions upon the ftage. True, iris, he thinks the
French poets are too affeded in excluding all thefe
forts of fpedacles. For inftance, he finds fault
with. the great! Corneille for not having caufed
Camilla to be (lain upon the ftage \ Corneille,
he fays, in order to avoid imbruing the ftage
:with blood, renders the adion of young Horatius
ftill more atrocious, by giving him leifure to
make fome refledion, and this without thinking

» Spe&ator 18. April 1711. N°. 42.
6 The Horatius's ail 4.

that

Po e try and Painting. 347
that he muft at the end of the piece fave the
murderer of his fifter. Horatius would be lefs
odious, were he to kill Camilla at the very time
fhe utters her imprecations againft Rome. Be
this obfervation juft or not, it cannot be denied,
that if the reprefentation of tragedies is too much
loaded with fpedacles in England, it is certainly
too naked in France. Let us but afk the adrefs,
who plays the part of Andromache, whether the
fcene a in which Andromache, ready to put an
end to her life, recommends her fon to her confi
dante, would not become more moving by in
troducing the unfortunate infant upon the ftage,
whofe prefence would naturally furnifh an oppor
tunity of ffiewing the moft pathetic fymptoms of
maternal tendernefs ; which could never appear
frigid in fuch a fituation ?
The fame cannot be faid of comedy as of tra
gedy. Among the different ways in which co
medy is now recited in different countries, I do
not think that one can be faid to excel the other.
Each country, methinks, ought to have its peculiar
manner of reciting.
In comic representations 'tis not propofed tp
conciliate refped to the perfonages introduced on
the ftage, but to render them known to the fpec
tators. Comedians therefore muft copy the An
gularities of their nation in gefture, carriage, and
pronunciation ; and muft mould themfelves, as it
were, after the model of their countrymen. The
* In one of Racine's Tragedies. people

$48 Critical Reflections on
people of fome countries have, generally fpeaks
ing, a greater variation in their tone of voice, em
ploy aeuter and more frequent accents in their pro
nunciation, and are more adive in their gefture,
than others. As the natural difpofition of fome
nations is more lively than that of other?, their
adion of courfe muft be brifker, and their fenti
ments and paffions flip from them with an im
petuofity not ufual to other nations. The French
do not ufe certain gefticulations, nor antic
demonstrations with their fingers, neither do
they laugh, as the Italians. We do not vary
our pronunciation with particular accents, which
are common in Italy, even in familiar converfa-
tions. Now a comic ador, were he to imitate a
foreign gefticulatipn and pronunciation in declaim
ing, would ad contrary to the rule abovemen
tioned. For example, were an Engliffi comedian
to ffiew fo much vivacity in his gefture, fuch dif-
quiet in his vifage, fuch eagernefs in his coun
tenance, or to break into frequent exclamatk
ons in his pronunciation, in, fhort, were he to
act intirely like an Italian comedian, he would
ad • his part very ill ; becaufe the Englifh, who
ought to be his model, have not that behaviour
and gefture. That which is fufficient to move an
Italian, makes no impreffion upon an Engliffi
man. An.Englifhman, againft whom fentence of
death is pronounced, appears with lefs agitation than
an Italian condemned to a fmall pecuniary fine.
The beft Comic ador therefore is he, who fuc-
ceeds beft in the theatrical imitation of his origi-
r , nak>

Poetry and Painting. 340,
nals, whatever thefe originals be. If the come
dians of one country are more agreable than thofe
of another to foreigners, 'tis becaufe the former
have copied their charaders from a people that
have naturally a greater politenefs in their man
ners, and a more attta&ing grace in their elocu
tion.

CHAP. XLIII.
That the pleafure we receive at the theatre,
is not the effect of illufion.
7l | HS the opinion of feveral men of fenfe,
J that the pleafure we receive from fpeda
cles and pidures is merely the effed of illufion.
Purfuant to their way of thinking, the reprefen
tation of the Cid affords us fo much pleafure
merely thro' the illufion that deceives us. The
verfes of the great Corneille, the apparatus of
the fcenes, and the declamation of the adors,
hnpofe upon us fo as to make us believe, that in
ftead of affifting at the reprefentation of the event,
we are prefent at the event itfelf, and that we
really fee the adion, and not the imitation. But
this opinion feems to me to be quite unwarrant
able. There can be no illufion in the mind of a
man who is in his fenfes, unlefs thefe have been
firft impofed upon. Now tho' it be true, that
whatever we fee on the ftage contributes to move us,

350 Critical Reflections on
us, yet nothing is done by, way of deluding our
fenfes, becaufe every thing ffiews itfelf there in
the nature of a copy. We do not go to the
theatre with a notion that we ffiall fee Chimene and
Roderigue ; neither do we carry along with us
fuch a prevention, as that with which a perfon,
who has been over perfuaded by a conjurer that
he will let him fee an apparition, enters into the
cave where the ghoft is to appear. This preven
tion difpofes him prodigioufly for the illufion ; but
we carry no fuch prejudice with us to the theatre.
The play bill has promifed us only an imitation
or copy of Chimene and of Phaedra. We come
to the playhoufe prepared to behold what We
really fee there, and we have a thoufand things
continually before our eyes, which remind us con
ftantly of our real circumftances with refped to
place and condition. The fpedator preferves
therefore his underftanding, notwithftanding the
livelieft emotion. He receives the impreffion of
the paffions, but without raving or falling into
extravagancies. The moft that can happen is, that
a young perfon of a very tender difpofition, may be
fo tranfported with a pleafure which is yet novel
to him, that his emotion and furprize will make
him fall into fome exclamation or involuntary ge-
ftures ; which indicate, that he does not adually
refled on the external behaviour he ffiould ob-
ferve in a public affembly. But he will quickly
return to himfelf, and become fenfible of his mo
mentary abfence of mind : For 'tis not true, that
he fancied during his extafy, he faw Roderigue and

Poetry and Paint i n g. 351
and Chimene. He only was touched in almoft as
lively a manner as he would have been, had he really
feen Roderigue at the feet of his miftrefs after he
had killed her father. The fame may be faid with
refped to painting. The pidure of Attila, drawn
by Raphael, does not derive its merit from fe
ducing and impofing upon us, fo as to make us
believe, that we really fee St Peter and St Paul
in the air, menacing with their drawn fwords
this barbarous King environed with troops, which
were marching under his command to plunder and
ranfack the city of Rome. But in the pidure
here mentioned, Attila is fo exad a figure of a
frightened Scythian ; Pope Leo, who explains this
vifion to him, ffiews fo noble a confidence, and a
carriage fo conformable to his dignity ; all the
ftanders by are fo extremely like unto men in the
fame circumftances, as thofe in which Raphael fup
pofes his different perfonages ; the very horfes
themfelves concur fo well to the principal ac
tion -, and the imitation all together is fo ex
tremely probable, that it makes almoft as great
an impreffion on the fpedators, as the event itfelf
could poffibly have produced.
There have been feveral flories a publiffied of
animals, children, and even of adult people, who
have been impofed upon by pidures, fo as to
take them for the objeds, of which they were
only an imitation. Thefe (fome will fay) were all
infnared by the illufion, which has been confidered
* Pun. 1. 3. c. 10.
2 here

352 Critical Reflections on
here as impoffible. Likewife feveral birds have
dafhed their heads againft the perfpedive of Ruel,
deceived by his fky, which was fo perfedly imi
tated, that they fancied they might fly actofs it.
There have been alfo inftances of perfons, who have
addreffed their fpeech to portraits, imagining they
were fpeaking to real men. Every one knows the
ftory of the pidure of Rembrandt's fervant maid.
He expofed it at the window from whence" this girl
ufed frequently to look out ; by which means he
made the neighbours come all in their turns to
converfe with the portrait.
I fhall not difpute any of thefe fads ; all that
can be inferred from hence amounts to no more,
than that pidures may fometimes be the caufe
of illufion ; but it does not follow, that an illu
fion is the fource of the pleafure derived to us
from poetic and pidurefque imitations. A con
vincing argument hereof, is, that the pleafure
continues when the danger of being furprized is
over. The pidures pleafe us without the affift
ance of this illufion, which is only an incident,
and a very rare one too, of the pleafure they af
ford us. The pidures pleafe us, tho' we adually
recoiled that they are no more than a piece of
canvafs, on which a variety of colors have been
artificially laid. A tragedy affeds even thofe who
have the diftindeft knowledge of all the fprings
which the poet's genius and the player's abilities
fet a-going, in order to move them.
The

Poetry and Painting. 353
i Thefcpleafure we receive from pidures and ex
cellent dramatic poems is greater even upon our
feeing them a fecond time, and when there is no
further danger of being deluded. The firft time
a perfon beholds them he is dazzled with their
beauties. Our mind too reftlefs and volatile to
fix itfelf upon one particular thing, enjoys in rea
lity nothing : Eager of running over, and of
beholding every thing, we have no diftind fight
of any one objed. There is no body but has
experienced the truth of what I here advance,
when he has happened to light of a book which
he impatiently longed for. Before he finds him
felf capable of reading the three or four firft pages
with a clofe attention, he is obliged, as it were,
to run the book over from one end to the other.
Thus when we fee an excellent tragedy, or a beau
tiful pidure the fecond time, our mind fixes itfelf
on the parts of the objed, of which it had already
a curfory view. The general idea of the work has
taken its feat, as it were, in the imagination, be
caufe this idea muft make fome flay there, be
fore it can be well rivetted ; and then the mind re-
figns itfelf without any wandering, to whatever
. moves it. A perfon fkilled in architedure does
not examine a pillar, or infped into a particular
part of a palace, 'till after having given a glance
over the whole pile of building, . and fettled in his
imagination a diftind idea of the edifice.

Vol. I. Aa CHAP.

354 Critical Reflections on
¦ -Jflk"
CHAP. XLIV.
That dramatic poems purge the paffions.
HA D we but a juft notion of the tyranny
of the paffions, it would be capable of
making us defire ferioufly fo be never enflaved
by them, and of engaging us in refolutions, Which
might prevent them from eafily fubduing us. A
perfon who is fenfible of the inquietudes which
love is apt to caufe, whov knows into what ex
travagancies it hurries the very wifeft, and into
What dangers it precipitates the moft circumfpect
of men, will heartily wiffi never to be infriar-
ed by this bewitching paffion. Now dramatic
pieces, by fetting before our eyes the errors into
which our paffions lead us, give us a more fenfi
ble idea of their fymptoms and nature, than any
book is capable of conveying. Hence it has been
a maxim in all times, that tragedy purges the
"paffions. Other poems indeed may produce fome
fimilar effed -, but as the impreffion they make
is not near fo great as that which a tragedy caufes
with the affiftance of the ftage; they have not
therefore fo great an efficacy.
Thofe with whom we live and converfe, leave
Us generally to guefs at the true motive of their
adions, and the real bottom of their hearts; That
which feems outwardly but an inconfiderable
fparkj arifes frequently from a conflagration which

Poetry and Painting. 355
which makes a frightful havock within. We hap
pen therefore oftentimes to deceive Ourfelves, by
attempting to give a conjedure of the thoughts
of men ; and even they themfelves deceive us •
more frequently in the accounts they give of
the fituation of their hearts. But the perfonages
in tragedy throw off the mafk in our prefence ;
and confider all the fpedatots as confidents of
their real projeds, as well as of their moft fe-
Cret fentiments. They leave nothing for the fpec
tators to guefs at, but what can be eafily and fure-
ly conjedured. The like may be alfo faid of
comedies; Befides* the profeffion of a dramatic poet is to
draw an exad and true pidure of the paffions,
without exaggerating the Vexations, or misfortunes
that attend them. 'Tis by examples that he in>-
ftruds us ; and what ought to completely convince
Us of his fincerity, is that we- fee ourfelves in his
pidures. Now a faithful image of the paffions is
fufficient to ftrike us with horror, and to induce
us to determine refolutely to avoid them ; for there
is no neceffity that this pidure fhould be overloaded.
Who is it, that after having feen Corneille's Cid,
Can help dreading a tickliffi explication in one of
thofe critical minutes in which our tempers are
foured ? What refolutions will not a perfon form
of not converting on things which he has very
much at heart, at a time when an explication
may very eafily terminate in a quarrel ? Do not
we prpmife naturally to be filent at leaft, on
thofe occafions on which our imagination over-
Aa 2 heated

356 Critical Reflections on
heated may make us fay three or four words, which
we fhould be glad to redeem by a fix months fi-
lence ? This dread pf the paffions : muft certainly be
produdive of a good effed.
There are few paffions but what are fmall fparks
in the beginning, and may be eafily extinguiffied,
if a juft diftruft of ourfelves would induce us to
avoid all objeds capable of increafing them. Phae
dra, a criminal againft her will, is a fable like that
of the birth of Bacchus and Minerva.
Let no body imagine here, that I fuppofe dra
matic poems to be a fovereign and univerfal re
medy in morals. I am far from entertaining any
fueh thought ; all ' that I intend to fay is, that,
they fometimes contribute to reclaim men, and
frequently infpire them with a defire of growing
better. 'Tis thus the fpedacle contrived by the
Lacedemonians, to infpire their youth with an
ayerfion to drunkennefs, produced its effed. The
horror with which the extravagance and brutality
of flaves expofed , drunk upon the ftage, ftruck
the fpedators, raifed a firm refolution in them
tp refill the allurements of this vice. This hin
dered fome young people frpm drinking wine
fo excefs, tho' it might not have been effedual
enough to prevent, the intemperance of others.
There are fome who are of too fiery and violent
a temper to be reftrained by examples, and
whofe paffions are too much inflamed to be ex-
tinguifhed by philofophical refledions. Trage
dies therefore purge the paffions in the fame
manner as medicines heal the body, and asde-
fenfive

Poetry -and Painting. 357
fenfive weapons preferye us from the injuries of
offenfive ones ; that is, the thing will happen fome
times, but not always.
In what has been hitherto faid, I have fuppofed
the morality of theatrical pieces as good as it
really ought to be. Thofe dramatic poets, who
have been worthy of the honor of writing for
the ftage, have always confidered the infpiring
vis with an averfion to vice, and a love for vir
tue, as the principal obligation of their art. I can
pofitively affirm, fays Racine upon this fubjed %
that I never wrote a tragedy, where virtue is placed
in a more amiable light than in this. The leaft faults
are here fever ely punijhed. The very thought of a
crime is looked upon with as much horror as the
crime itfelf; and the foibles of love are confiders d as
real weakneffes. t The paffions are exhibited to pub
lic view, only to point out the diforders which at
tend them -, and vice is painted throughout in colors
- proper for detecting its deformity, and rendering' it
the object of our averfion. This is properly the
end, which every man who Writes for the ftage,
ought to propofe to himfelf, and which the moft
eminent tragic poets had" always and principally in
view. The theatre was to them an academy, where
•virtue was taught with as much purity as in the
fchools of philofopher s.
Writers who feem to have a difficulty to com
prehend, that tragedy purges the paffions, alledge
in j unification of their fentiments, that the defign
of tragedy is to excite them. But a little reflec-
y: ". a Preface to Phscdra.
A a $ tion

358 Critical Rflect?onso«
tion would have ffiewn the folution of 'this fhadow
of a difficulty, had they thought it worth their
while to fearch for it.
Tragedy pretends indeed, that the paffions ."it
reprefents, ffiould move us -, but it does not in
tend that our emotion ffiould be the fame as
that of a perfon tortured by his paffion, or that
we ffiould efpoufe his fentiments. Its aim moft
frequently is to excite oppofite fentiments to,
thofe, which it lends to the perfonages. For
example, when tragedy exhibits Medea glutting
her revenge by the murder of her own children,
it draws her pidure in fuch a manner, as infpires
us with the horror of revenge ; a paffion capable
of hurrying us into fuch execrable exceffes. The
poet pretends to inftil fuch fentiments only, as
he gives to virtuous perfonages ; and even of
thofe he defires us to efpoufe fuch as are abfo-
lutely commendable. Now when tragedy is faid
to purge the paffions, this muft be underftood
only of thofe that are vicious and prejudicial to
fociety. Were it to give us a diftafle for thofe
paffions that are ufeful to the community, fuch
as the love of our country, the. defire of glory,
the fear of difhonor, &c. it would be intirely
as vicious, as if it endeavored to fet vice in an
amiable light.
True it is, that fome dramatic poets unfkilled-
in their profeffion, and deftitute of any know
ledge of the manners, have frequently repre
fented vice as a greatnefs of foul, and virtue
as a meannefs of mind and heart. But this de-
feet

Poetry d«f Painting. 359
fed muft not be imputed to the art, but to the.
ignorance or depravity of the artift. A furgeon,
who lames thofe he bleeds, is faid indeed to be
a bungler, but the ignorance of this fellow nei
ther difcourages bleeding, nor difcredits the pro
feffion of forgery. An indifcreet author writes a
comedy, which fubverts one of the principal ele
ments of fociety ; that is, the perfoafion which
children ffiould have, that their parents love them
better than themfelves. He makes his plot confift
chiefly in the wiles of a father, who fets the moft
refined knavery to work, to lock up his children
who are extremely well bred, in order to feize
on their fortunes, and to enjoy them in company
with an infamous miftrefs. The author here
mentioned expofes this myftery of iniquity on
the ftage, without rendering it more odious, than
Terence has endeavoured to render the juvenile
tricks of iEfehinus and Pamphilus, whom the fire
and vigor of their youth hurries, in fpite of their
remorfe, into failings, which the world excufes ;
and whofe fathers themfelves do not defpair of
them fo much as they pretend. Befides, the plot
of Terence's pieces finiffies with an unravelling,
which puts the fon in a capacity of fatisfying
both his duty and inclination. The paternal
tendernefs ftruggling with reafon,. the agitati
ons of a well-bred fon tormented with the fear
of either difobliging his parents, or of lofing
his miftrefs, furnifh room for feveral engaging in
cidents, from whence a very ufeful morality may
be extraded. But the barbarity of a. father, who
A a. 4 wants.

360 Critical Reflections on
wants to facrifice his children to a paffion, for
which he has no longer the excufe of youth to
plead, can be confidered in no other light but
as a moft enormous crime, equal almoft to that
of Medea. If this crime can be expofed upon the
ftage, if it can furnifh a fubjed for a ufeful moral,
'tis only when it is painted there in the very
blackeft colors, and when it is punifhed with the
fevereft chaftifements, fuch as Melpomene, and
not Thalia, is allowed to exhibit.. 'Tis contrary
to all morality to infinuate that this adion is on
ly a flight failing, by adopting it as a fubjed for
a comic reprefentation. Let this odious piece be
branded therefore with infamy ; but let us agree
at the fame time, that Terence's comedies, and
the greateft part of Moliere's, are proper for purg
ing the paffions.

CHAP. XLV.
Of Music, properly fo called.
T remains now, that we treat of mufic, as the
third of thofe means, which men have in
vented, in order to add a new ftrength to poetry,,
and to render it capable of making a greater im
preffion. Wherefore as the painter imitates the
ftrokes and colors of nature, in like manner
the mufician imitates the tones, accents, fighs,
and inflexions of the voice; and in ffiort all
thofe

Poetry and Painting^ 361
thofe founds, by which nature herfelf expreffes
her fentiments and paffions. Thefe^ as we have
already obferved, have a furprizing power of
moving us, by reafon of their being figns in-
ftituted by nature, from whence they receive
their energy ; whereas articulate words are arbi
trary figns of paffions, and draw their fignifica
tion and value from human inftitution, which
has been able to render them current only in par
ticular countries.
Mufic, in order to render the imitation of na
tural founds more capable of moving and pleaf
ing, has reduced it to the continued modulation
or finging, called the fubjed. It has alfo found
out two means to render this modulation more
capable of moving and delighting us : the one
is harmony, and the other the rhythmus.
The concords in which harmony confifts, have
a moft pleafing attradive for the ear, and the con
currence of the different parts of a mufical com
pofition, which form thefe concords, contributes
alfo to the expreffion of the found the mufician
intends to imitate. The thorough bafe and the
other parts affift the modulation greatly in expref
fing the fubjed of imitation.
The ancients gave the name of rhythmus in mu
fic to what we call meafure and movement. Now
'tis this meafure and movement that give life, as
it were, to a mufical compofition. The know
ledge Pf the rhythmus, by dired'mg the proper
variation of meafure, takes off from mufic that
uniformity of cadence, which would foon render
2 it

362 Critical Reflections on
it tirefom and difagreable. In, the; next place, the
rhythmus throws a new' likenefs intp the imitation
arifing from a mufical compofition, becaufe it pro
duces alfo an imitation of the progreffion and
movement of the natural founds already imitate^
by the modulation and harmony.
Mufic therefore forms its imitations by the .help
of finging, harmony, and rhythmus a. 'Tis thus
likewife painting forms its imitations, by the af
fiftance of the ftrokes, the chiaro-fcuro, and the
local colors.
The natural figns of the paffions, which mufic
colleds and employs with art, in order to increafe
the energy of the words fhe fets, ought to render
them more capable of moving us, becaufe thefe na
tural figns have a furprizing power over us. This
they have from nature itfelf ; for, as one of the
moft judicious , inquirers into the human affections
remarks, b nothing is more naturally agreable to our
mindS; than numbers and founds, for by thefe our
paffions are excited and inflamed, and by thefe alfo
we are foothed and taught to languifti. By this
means the pleafure of the ear is communicated
to the heart. Hence fongs have had their firft
a In cantu tria prtecipue notandafunt, harmonia, fermq, iff
rhythmus. Harmonia verfatur circa fonum. Sermo circa verbo-
runi intelleBum iff enuntiationem diftinBam. Rhythmus circa.
concinnum cantici motum.
b Nihil eft enim tarn cognatum mentibm noftris, quam numeri-
atque voces, quibus iff excitamur, iff incendimur, iff lenimur, iff
languefcimus, Cic. 1. 3. de orat.

Poetry and Pa j n ting. 363
rife; and upon people's obferving afterwards, that
the words had quite another energy when fung,
than when only declaimed, the ufe of mufical re
citatives was introduced upon the ftage, till at
length they ventured to fing a whole dramatic
piece. This is the real origin of our operas.
There is therefore fome truth in the recitatives
of operas, which confifts in the imitation of fuch
tones, accents, fighs, and founds, as are natu
rally fuitable to the fentiments which the words
contain. The fame truth may be difcovered in
the harmony and rhythmus of the whole compo
fition. Mufic is not fatisfied with imitating in its mo
dulations the inarticulate language of man, and
the feveral founds which he makes ufe of by
inftind ; it has alfo attempted to form imitations
of all the other natural founds, which are moft
capable of making an impreffion upon us. It em
ploys only inftruments in imitating inarticu
late founds, and thefe imitations are called
fymphonies ; yet thefe fymphonies ad, in a man
ner, feveral parts in our operas with confiderable
fuccefs. In the firft place, tho' this kind of mufic be
merely inftrumental, yet it contains a true imita
tion of nature. In the next place, there are fe
veral founds in nature capable of producing a
great effed upon us, when we hear them feafon^
ably in the fcenes of a dramatic piece.
The truth of the imitation in fymphonies con
fifts in their refemblance with the founds they are
intended

364 Critical Reflections on
intended to imitate. There is truth in a fymphony
compofed for the imitation of a tempeft, when
the modulation, harmony, and rhythmus, Convey
to our ear a found like the bluftering of the winds
in the air, and the bellowing of the waves, which
dafh impetuous againft one another, or break
againft the rocks. Such is the fymphony which
imitates a tempeft in the opera of Alcione by
Monfieur Marais.
Wherefore, tho' thefe fymphonies do not pro
duce any articulate founds, they ad notwithftand
ing a very ufeful part in dramatic pieces, becaufe
they contribute to engage us to the adion, by
making almoft the fame impreffion upon us, as would
arife from the ^very found they imitate, were we to
hear it under the fame circumftances as the fympho
ny. 3 For inftance, the imitation of the noife of a
tempeft, which is juft going to fink a perfonage in
whofe favor the poet has deeply engaged us, af
feds us exadly as we ffiould be moved with the
bluftering of a tempeft juft ready to plunge into
the waves a perfon for whom we had a fincere af
fedion, were this a real tempeft, and we near
enough to hear it. 'Tis needlefs to repeat, that
the impreffion of the fymphony cannpt be fo
ftrong as that which is made by a real tempeft ;
for I have feyeral times obferved already, that the
impreffion arifing from an imitation, is much
weaker than that of the thing imitated".
3 Sine dubio in omni re vincit imitationetn Veritas. Cic. de
orat. 1. 3. ?Ti&

Poetry and Painting: 365
'Tis not therefore at all furprizing, that fym
phonies ffiould move us exceedingly ; tho' their
founds, as Longinus a obferves, are only images
and fimple imitations of the voice, which really ex
prefs nothing, being, as it were, mere baftard
founds, and not the genuine effects of human nature.
Hence the inarticulate founds of inftruments
have been employed in all countries and ages, to
move the hearts of men, and to infpire them
with particular fentiments, efpecially on occafions
where it was impoffible to convey them, by the
affiftance of language. Civilized nations have al
ways made ufe of inftrumental mufic in their reli
gious worffiip. The inhabitants of all countries
have had their proper inftruments for war ; and
have made ufe of their inarticulate mufic, not
only to render the word of command intelligible
to thofe whofe bufinefs it is to obey, but likewife
to excite, and even fometimes to reftrain the ar
dor of their foldiers. Thefe inftruments were dif
ferently touched, according to the effed expeded
from them ; and people endeavoured to render
their founds fuitable to the ufe they were defigned
for. ,
We too fhould probably have ftudied the art of
touching military inftruments as much as the an
cients, if the thundering of fire arms left our
* Kai toi Ta roiavla H^aKa, xai fHfuifuda, noOtx. iri ¦ro'Etfia;,
&X' T^! avOjenViaK (pvriwi, w; z<pnv> hsgyipafiec •ytfaix. Long.
¦de Subl. c. 34. foldiers

66 CfeiTiCAL Reflections on
foldiers capable of hearing a mufical found. Tho'
we have not endeavoured to perfed Ourfelves
in thefe inftruments, but have fo much negleded
this favorite art of the ancients, as to look upon
thofe who profefs it in our days, as the meaneft fel
lows of the army ; we find neverthelefs the very
firft principles thereof in ourcamps. Our trumpets
do not found a charge as a retreat ; nor do our
drums beat the chamade in. the fame manner
as a charge.;
The fymphonies of our operas, and efpecially
thofe of Lulli, the greateft mufical poet among
thofe whofe works are extant, give a probability to
the moft furprizing effeds of the mufic of the
ancients. Perhaps the military clangor of The-
feus, the foft founds of Armidas, and feveral other
fymphonies of the fame author, would have pro
duced fuch effeds as feem fabulous in the ac
counts given by ancient authors, were they to be
heard by people of as great. Vivacity of temper
as the Athenians, and in entertainments where
they had been previoufly moved by the adion
of a tragedy ^ Do not we ourfelves feel that thefe
airs make fuch impreffions on us as the mufician
defires ? Do not we perceive that thefe fympho
nies inflame us, calm us, foften us, and, in ffiort,
operate upon us, as effedually almoft asCorneille's
or Racine's verfes ?
Had the anonymous author of the treatife De
poematum cantu & viribus rhythmi, whom I fup-
pofe to be Ifaac Voffius, becaufe his friends have
told me fo, and by reafon this work is full of pre
judices

Po E T r y and PA i n T i n G. 367
judices in favor of China and its inhabitants, pre
judices that every body knows were peculiar to
this great man ; had, I fay, this author but heard
the operas of Lulli, and principally his latter ones,
before he wrote the treatife abovementioned, he
Would never have faid % that the modern mufic
has neither the force, nor energy of the an
cient. " We muft not be furprized (this is the
•' purport of his words) that our mufic does not
" produce the fame effed, as that of the an-
" dents, fince the moft varied tunes and the
" richeft harmony are only fonorous trifles and
*' harmonious nonfenfe, when a mufician does
*' not know how to make a proper ufe thereof
" in order to exprefs juftly his fubjed ; and
" when he cannot animate alfo his compofition
" with a fuitable rhythmus, fo as to give it a fit
" and fenfible meaning."
If any modern mufic is bare of the merit here
mentioned by Voffius, certainly it is not that of
-Lulli ; for what Voffius calls verborum intellectum,
or the expreffion, is perfed in this mufician. Thofe
who do not underftand French, can guefs at the
fentiments and paffions of the adors, who declaim
with his mufic. Let us only imagine what com
parifon Voffius would have made between the Ita
lian fonatas and cantatas, and the fymphonies and
* Sfuippe cum omnis cantus. iff harmonia quantumvis elegans,fi
iff verborum intelleBus iff motus abfint aliquid fignificantes, ni
hil nifi inanem continent fonum, nemini mirum videri debet abefii
ab hodierna mufica virtutem quts tantopere in veteri pradica-
tur. In prsefat. recitatives

368 Critical Reflections on
recitatives of Lulli, had he known them when he
publiffied that work. But it feems by the date
placed at the bbttom of his preface", that he wrote
it in the year 1671, exadly at the time when Lulli
was compofing his firft opera.
Symphonies therefore that are well charade-
riTed and fuitable to the fubjed, contribute vaftly
to engage us to the adioh of the opera, in which
we may fay they ad a part. The fidion which
lays Atys afleep, and prefents him with fuch di-
verfified objeds during his flumber, is rendered
more probable and moving, by the impref
fion we receive from the fymphonies of different
charaders which precede his fleep, and from the
proper fucceffion of airs whilft it continues. The
fymphony in the opera of Rowland, which -is
commonly called Logiftille, plays its part very
well in the adion where it is introduced. The
adion of the fifth ad, where it is placed, confifts
in reftoring Rowland to his fenfes, who went off
the ftage quite raving mad at the end of, the fourth
ad. This delightful mufic gives us an idea
of thofe fymphonies which Cicero and Quintilian
fay the Pythagoreans made ufe of, to calm, before
they went to bed, the tumultuous ideas which the
buttle of the day had left in their imaginations ;
in the fame manner as they employed fymphonies
of an oppofite nature, to put the fpirits in mo
tion when they awaked, in order to render
8 In form of an epiftle to my Lord Arlington. themfelves

Poetry and Pa i n t i n g. 369
themfelves fitter for application ". To mention it
Only tranfiently, the firft brifk air of the prologue
of Amadis, which Comes when his fieep is over,
gives us an idea of the airs, whofe founds awaked
the Pythagoreansi
To return to the fymphony of the opera of
Rowland, which gives us an idea pf the airs*
which difpofed the Pythagoreans for fleep, it
has intirely the truth of imitation, and is moft
likely to produce the effed for which the
mufician defigned it. The fentiment arifing
from thence convinces us diredly, that it is
very proper for calming the agitations of the
mind ; and as an exad difbuffion juftifies always
our fenfitive perception, we find upon inquiry
the reafons which render it fo proper for making
this impreffion.
'Tis not filence that is the fitteft remedy for
calming the agitations of a diftempered mind.
We are taught by experience and reafon, that
there are feveral founds more proper for calming
the fpirit, than filence itfelf. Such are thofe,
which, like that of Logiftille, continue a long
time almoft in an equal movement, while the fub-
fequent founds are neither much acuter nor graver,
neither much flower nor quicker, than the pre
ceding ; infomuch that the progreffion of the mo-
1 Pythagoreis certe maris fuit, iff cum evigilajjent animos ad
lyram excitare, que ffifent ad agendum ereBiores, iff cum fomnum
peterent. ad eandem prius lenire mentes, ut fi quid fiuiffet turbido-
rum negotiorUm, componererit. QuiNf. Inft. 1. 3. c. 9.
Vo h. I. B b dulation

370 Critical Reflections on
dulation is frequently made by leffer intervals. It
feems that founds, which are not accelerated or
retarded with regard to the intonation and move
ment, but by a flow and uniform proportion, are
more proper for reftoring the mind to that even
courfe which conftitutes tranquillity, than a filence
which would let them purfue the violent and tu
multuous courfe into which they had been firft
hurried. A man that talks a great while in the
fame tone of voice, fets the reft of the company
afleep ; and a proof that their drowfinefs proceeds
from the continuation of the fame tenor of found,
is, that the auditor ftarts immediately out of his
fleep if the orator ceafes of a hidden to fpeak, or
if he happens to make fome exclamation in a much
higher tone than that in which he was declaim
ing. We have daily examples of people troubled
with infomny, who are lulled to fleep by the found
of a ledure or converfation ; but as foon as the
found is over, they awake diredly.
There is therefore a probability in fymphony,
as in poetry. As the poet, is obliged to conform
in his fidions to the truth of agreement ; in like
manner the mufician ought to conform to this
truth in the compofition of his fymphonies. Let
us explain this point. Muficians frequently comr
pofe fymphonies to exprefs founds we never
heard, and which never perhaps exifted in nature.
Such is the bellowing of the earth when Pluto
rufhes forth from hell ; the whiffling of the air
when Apollo infpires Pythia ; the noife which a
ghoft makes coming out of its tomb ; and the
3 trembling

Po e T r y and Painting. 371
trembling of the leaves of the oaks of Dodona. There
is a truth of agreement in thefe fymphonies ; and
Horace's convenientia finge takes place here as well
as in poetry. We are fenfible when the requifite
probability is obferved in thefe pieces ; which is
certainly attended to, when they produce an effed
fimilar to that which would naturally arife from
the founds they imitate, and when they feemr con
formable to founds unheard, whereof we have
notwithftanding a confufed idea by a relation
to known founds. We fay therefore of fymphor
nies of this kind, as well as of thofe which imi
tate real founds, that they exprefs well or ill. We
commend the fymphony of the tomb of Amadis,
and that of the opera of Iffe, by faying the
imitation is very natural, tho' we have never be
held nature in the circumftances in which thofe
fymphonies pretend to copy it. Wherefore tho*
they are mere inventions of fancy, , yet they
contribute very much to render the fpedacle
affeding, and the adion pathetic. For ex
ample, the funeral accents of the fymphony,
which Lulli has inferted in the fcene of the opera .
of Amadis a, where the ghoft of Ardan comes out
of his tomb, make as great an impreffion upon
our ear, as the fhow and reprefentation have upon
our eyes. Our imagination attacked at one and
the fame time by the, organs of fight and hear
ing, is much more moved with the apparition of
the ghoft, than if only our eyes were deluded.
The fymphony, with which Monfieur des Touches
¦ Aft 3.
B b 2 ufhers

372 Critical Reflections on
uffiers in the orattle uttered by the oaks of Dodo*
na, produces a like effed a. The trembling • of
the leaves of thofe- trees which it imitates by its
harmony and rhythmus, difpofes us to find a pro
bability in the fuppofition which is goingto lend
them fpeech. It feems probable that fome found,
like that of this fymphony, preceded and prepared
the articulate founds pronounced by the oracle.
But thefe- fymphonies, which feem fo delightful
when ufed in the imitation of a particular found,
would be infipid and difagreable, were they to be
employed as the imitation of a different found.
The fymphony of the opera of Iffe abovemen
tioned would appear ridiculous* were it to be fub-
ftituted inftead of that of the tomb of Amadis.
Thefe mufical pieces, which make fo fenfible an
impreffion upon us when they conftitute a part of
the theatrical adion, would afford but very little.
pleafure if they were to be heard as fonatas, or
as detached fcraps of fymphonies, by a perfon
who never heard them at the opera, and who
would confequently pafs judgment on them, with
out being acquainted with their greateft merit ;
that is, with the relation they -have to the adion,
in which they play, as it were, their part.
The firft principles therefore of mufic are the
fame as thofe of poetry and painting. Mufic,
like thefe two arts, is an imitation ; and like thefe
arts it muft conform to the general rules with re
fped to the choice of the fubjed, the probability,
and feveral other .points. All the liberal arts, a§
a In the opera of Ife, Cicero

Poe try and Paint i n g. 373
Cicero a obferves, feemto have one common chain, of
agreement, and to be connected together by a kind of
mutual affinity.
As there are fome who are more affeded with
the coloring of pidures, than with the expref
fion of the paffions ; in like manner there are
people who are only pleafed with the agreablenefs
of the finging, or with the richnefs of the har
mony, without confidering attentively, whether
this finging imitates the -proper found,, or whe
ther it be fuitable to the meaning of the words to
which it is adapted. They do not require the
mufician to fit his melody to the fentiments
contained in the words he fets to mufic ;_ but are
fatisfied, that his modulations be varied, grace
ful, or even whimfical, fo as they give a
tranfient expreffion of fome of the words of the ,
recitative. The number of muficians who con
form to this tafte, as if mufic were incapable of
doing any thing better, is but too confiderable.
If they fet to mufic, for example,, the verfe of
the pfalm The Lord faid unto my Lord, which be-?
gins with thefe words, he fhall drink of the brook
in the way, they dwell intirely upqn the expref
fion of the rapidity of the brook in its courfe,
without. attending to the fenfe of the verfe, which
contains a prophecy on the paffionof Chrift. And
yet the expreffion °fa word can never affed us as
a Omnes artes qua ad humanitatem pertinent , habent quadrant
commune vinculum, iff " quafi cognatione quddam inter je continu-
enturl. Cic. pro Archia. B b 3 much

"374 Critical Reflections on
much as that of a fentiment, unlefs a fentiment
be contained in this fingle word. If a mufician
pays fome regard to the expreffion of a word,
he ought to do it without lofing fight of the ge
neral purport of the phrafe which he has fet
to mufic.
I ffiould willingly compare a piece of mufic,
whofe compofer is unfkilled in the art of moving
us, to a pidure that is only well colored, or to
a poem that has nothing to recommend it but the
verfification. As the beauties of execution in poe
try and painting ought to be employed in dif-
playing the graces of invention and the ftrokes
of genius which paint the objed imitated ; fo the
richnefs and variety of concords, the charms, and
novelty of modulations ffiould be applied to no
other ufe in mufic but that of drawing and im-
bellifhing the imitation of the language and paf
fions of nature. That which is called the know
ledge of compofition, is a handmaid (to make
ufe of this expreffion) which a mufical genius
ought to entertain in his fervice, in the fame man
ner as a poet's genius ffiould keep the knack
of rhiming. He is undone (to continue the figure)
if the maid makes herfelf miftrefs of the houfe,
and has liberty to difpofe of it according to her
own, fancy and pleafure, I am apt to think, that
all poets and muficians would be of my opinion,
were it not eafier to rhime exadly, than to fuftain
a poetic ftile ; or to find fuch modulations as- are
both natural and agreable, without exceeding the;
jimits of probability. But 'tis impoffible to attain to

Poetry and Painting. 37?
to the pathetic without a genius -, tho' to com
pofe learnedly in mufic, or to rhime with facility,
requires no fuch affiftance, it being fufficient for
that purpofe to have profeffed either of thefe arts.

CHAP. XLVI.
Some refections on the Italian mufic. That the
Italians did not cultivate this art till after
the French and Flemings.
THIS difcourfe feems naturally to lead me
to fpeak of the difference between the
Italian and French tafte in mufic. I mean
the prefent tafte of the Italians, which is much
wider from the French, than it was under the
pontificate of Urban the Vfll. Tho' nature'
does not alter, and confequently one fhould thiftk,
that the tafte of mufic ought not to change, yet
it has certainly varied in Italy. There is in that
country a fafhion for mufic, as in France for drefs
and equipage.
Foreigners feem to agree, that we underftand
the movement and meafure better than the Itali
ans, and confequently that we fucceed better
in that part of mufic which by the ancients
was called rhythmus. In fad, the ableft violins in
Italy would execute but poorly one of Lulli's ga
vottes, much lefs any of his charaderifed fympho
nies. Tho' the Italians make a very great ftudy
Bb 4 of

376 Critical Reflections on
of meafure, yet, methinks, they do not under
ftand the rhythmus as well as we, fo as to employ
it juftly in the expreffion, or adapt it properly
to the fubjed of imitation. ' .
If abbot Gravina (a writer whom we have had
already occafion to take notice of) does not com
mend the French mufic as much as Voffius % yet
he rails more againft the Italian. But I ffiall give
this author's remarks in his own words'3 : " The
'* mufic which we hear now on our ftages is far
'' from producing the fame effeds as that of the
" ancients. Inftead of imitating and expreffing
ft the meaning of the words, it contributes only
?e to enervate and choak it : Wherefore it is as dif-
te agreable to thofe who have a juftnefs of tafte, as
" it is pleafing to fuch as differ from reafon. In
" fad, vocal mufic ought to imitate the natural
*' language of the human paffions, rather than
" the
* halt longiorihis utuntur fisxibus, unde ridentur a Gallis,
weluti qui uno formando ffalmate utrumque exhauriunt pulmonem.
Galll prtsterea in fuo cantu rithmum magis obfervant quam Itali,
Unde fit ut apudillos complura occurrant cantica, quis concinnos iff
elegantes admodum habent motus. Voss. de poem. cant. p. 123.
^ Corre per gli theatri a dt noftri una mufica fterile a]i tali
effetti, (the author had been fpeaking of the marvelous eflfedts
of the mufic of the ancients) e percio da quella affai difforme,
e fi efalta per k piu quel? armonia, la quale quanta alletta gli
animi ftemperati e dijfonanti, tanto later a color 0 che danno a
guidare il fenfo a la ragione ; perche in cambio di efprimere ed
imitare, fuol piu tofto eftinguere e cancellare ogni fembianza di
verita : Se pur non godiamo, che in cambio di efprimere fentimenti
e paftiont umane ed imitar le noftre attioni e coftumi, fomigk ed
imiti.

Poetry and^VA i n t i n 61 ffff
tc the finging of canary birds, which our mufic
" affeds fo vaftly to mimic with its quaverings
" and boafted cadences. Tho' we have at pre*
" fent a very fkilful mufician*, and a man of
" good fenfe, who is not carried away with
" the torrent. But our poetry having been
" corrupted by the excefs of ornaments and fi-
*' gures, the contagion has fpread itfelf into our
• c mufic. 'Tis the fate of all arts, which have a
t( cofnmon origin and objed, that the infedion
" paffes from one to the other. Our mufic
imiti, come fa fovente con quei trilli tanto ammirati, la lecora
oyl canario : $>uantunque a di noftri vada forgendo qualche deftro
modulatore, ( * the author is fuppofed to have meant here Sig-
nor Buononcini) il quale contrq la commun carrutlefa da natural
giudizio e proportion di mente portato, imita anche fpejfo la na
tura, a cui piu fi awicinarebbe, fe Vantica arte mufica potejfe
da fi lunghe e folte tenebre alzare il capo. Ne ci dobbiamo mara-
vigliare, fe corrotta la poefia, s'e anche corrotta la mufica, per'
che come nella ragion poetica accennammo, tutte le arti imitative
hanno una idea commune, dalla cui alterazionefi alterano tutte,
e particolarmente la mufica dall' alteration delta poefia fi cangia,
come dalcorpo lombra. Onde corrotta la poefia da i foverchi or
nament i e dalla copia delle figure, ha communicato anche il fuo
morbo alia mufica, ormai tanto sfigurata, che ha perduta quafi
la natural efprejfione. Ne perehe reea diletto alt orecchio, per
cio fi dee convevevole alia tragedia riputare i' poiche il diletto
propria della mufica dramatica e quello che nafce dalla imitazione.
Ma il placer prefente nafce prima dalla mancanxa delta vera
idea, e poi per accident e da quella qualfifia modulaziqne di voce,
che lufinga e molce la parte animate, cioe il fenfo foto fenza cou-
torfa. delta ragione, come fa qualfivoglia canto di un car delta,
o di un ufignuolo ; e come dalla vivezza e varieta de1 colori
dilettano, fenza imitazione di verita, le pit fare Chinefi. Abbate
Gravina della Tragedia, p. 70. « is

378 Crit ical Reflections on
u is therefore fo loaded at prefent with fuch trifles
*' and gewgaWS, that we can hardly trace any re-
" mains of the natural expreffion. Nor, tho' it
" ffattersthe ear* is it therefore fit for tragedy ; be-.
** Caufe the imitation and expreffion of the inarti-
*' culate language of the paffions is the chief merit
*e Of dramatic mufic. If our mufic is ftill agreable
" tO us, 'tis becaufe we know no better, and
11 it tickles the ear, which it does in common
" with the warbling of goldfinches and night-
** ' ingales. Itrefembles thofe Chinefe pidures which
" have no imitation of nature, and are only plea-
*' fing by reafon of the vivacity and variety of
iC their colors."
I do not chufe to enter here into a further in
quiry concerning the merit of French and Italian
mufic. This is a fubjed that has been canvaffed
within thefe few years by feveral men of under
ftanding. Befides, it would be neceffary, methinks,
to commence it with a preliminary queftion, the
difcuffion whereof would be too tedious. I fhould be
obliged to examine into the opinion of an Englifh
writer, a man of wit and abilities^ who reproach
ing his countrymen with the tafte which feveral of
them feem to have for the Italian operas, main
tains that there is a mufic fuitable to each language,
and particularly adapted to each nation. Accord
ing to this writer, French mufic is good in its
kind, and fo is the Italian. a The mufic of the
French is indeed very properly adapted to their pro-
a Spectator April the 3d. 1711. N*. 29. vunciation

Poetry and Pain t ing. 379
nunciation and accent, as their whole opera won
derfully favours the genius of fuch a gay airy people.
The chorus in which that opera abounds gives the
parterre frequent opportunities of joining in concert
with the ftage. This inclination of the audience to
fing along with the \attors, fo prevails with them,
that I have fometimes known the performer on the
ftage do no more in a celebrated fong, than the
clerk of a parifh church, who ferves only to raife
the pfalm, and is afterwards drowned in the mufic
of the congregation.
I fhall be contented therefore with making
fome hiftorical remarks concerning the Italian
mufic. The author of a poem in four cantos
on mufic a, wherein we find a great deal of wit
and good fenfe, pretends, that when people be
gan towards the fixteenth century to ffiake off
their barbaroufnefs, and to cultivate the polite
arts, the Italians were the firft muficians, and that
other nations afterwards made ufe of their im*
provements to perfed this art. The fad does
not appear to me to be true. Italy was indeed
at that time the nurfery of architedure, painting,
and fculpture, but mufic was revived in the Low
Countries ; or to foeak more properly, it had
florifhed there already a long time, with a fuc
cefs which all Europe revered and acknowledged.
I could alledge in proof hereof Commines and
feveral other writers, but I ffiall be fatisfied with
quoting one unexceptionable witnefs, whofe depo-
* Printed in the year 171 3. fitiori

3-So Critical Reflections on
fition is fo very circumftantial, as to exclude
all poffibility of doubt. This is a Florentin,
Lewis Guicciardin, nephew to Francis Guicciar-
din the famous hiftorian. Let us hear what he
fays in a general difcourfe upon the Netherlands
which is by way of preface to his defcription
of the feventeen provinces:, a book very well
known and tranflated into feveral languages.
Our Flemings are the patriarchs of mulic, which
they have revived, and carried to a great pitch of
perfection. They are born with a very happy geni
us for cultivating- it, and their abilities in the
practice are fo great, that the men and women of
this country fing almoft all of them naturally with
juftnefs and grace. By adding afterwards art to
nature, they are admired for their compofition,
as well as for the execution of their fongs and
fymphonies in all the courts of Chriftendom, where
their merit raifes them to very handfome fortunes.
I fhall mention only the names of fuch as have
died lately, and of thofe that are yet living. In
the number of the firft we rank John Teinturier
of Nivelle, whofe eminent merit will oblige me pre
fently to take more particular notice of him, Jojhua
Duprpt, Albert Ockeghuem, Richefort, Adrian
Villart, John Mouton, Verdelot, Gombert, Lupus
Louvart, Courtier, Crequiljon, Clement, Cornelius.
Hont. Among the living we reckon Cyprian de la
Rofte, John Cuick, Philippe du Mont, Rowland,
Lafje, Mdncicourt, Jojhua Bafton, Chriftian fJol-
5 Edit. Janflf. p. i. land,

Poetry and PainTInG. 381
land, James Vas, Bonmarchez, Severin Cornet,
Peter Hot, Gerard Tornhout, Hubert Valerand,
James Berchems of Antwerp, Andrew Pevernage,
Cornelius Verdonk, and feveral others difperfed
throughout all the courts of Chrifte-ndom, where they
have made very good fortunes, and continue to be
honored as mafters of this art. In fad the pof-
terity of Mouton and Verde! ot have been ce
lebrated in France for mufic, even down to our
days. 'Tis obfervable, that Lewis Guicciardin,
who died in the year of the acceffion of our
Henry IV to the crown a, mentions the cuf
tom which the Netherlands had of furnifhing;
Europe with muficians, (in the fame manner as
Italy conjointly with France does in our days) as a
cuftom of a very long Handing.
Even Italy herfelf, who fancies at prefent that
-other nations know no more of mufic than what
they learnt of her, had her muficians from our
parts before the laft century, and payed then the
fame -tribute to the artifts on this fide of the
Alps, as fhe pretends now to receive from
all the people of Europe. I remember to have
met in fome Italian writers with feveral paffages
which prove this affertion, but I think it more ad-
vifeable to fpare the reader the trouble of peru
fing, and myfelf the trouble of finding them.
Befides, I do not conceive that there is any ftron-
ger proof requifite, than the aboVecited paffage
k^ In the year 1589. of

382 Critical Reflections on
of Guicciardin. I fhall however content myfelf
with producing one paffage more, and this from
Corio, who has given us a hiftory of Milan, a
very curious work, and well known by all
the learned. In the account which Corio gives
of the death of Duke Galeazzo Sforza Vif»
conti, who was affaffinated in the year 1474
in the church of St Stephen at Milan, he fays,
* The Duke was very fend of muftc, which made
hint keep thirty foreign muficians in pay, to whom
be allowed very confiderahle. falaries. One of them,
whofe name was Cordier, received of that prince
a hundred ducats a month.
The miftake of imagining the Italians to have
been the firft reftorers of mufic in Europe, has led
the poet here mentioned into another error,
which is his making an Italian of Rowland
Laffe, one of the muficians of the Low Coun
tries commended by Guicciardin. This poet quotes
him therefore by the name of Orlando Laffo,
and tells us that he was one of the firft reftor
ers of mufic. But this Orlando Laffo, tho' we meet
with him in fome mifinformed authors with both
his names terminated after the Italian manner,
was no more an Italian than Scarron's Ferdinando
Ferdinandu who was a native of Caen in France.
The miftake arifes from this, that Rowland Lafle
has prefixed to feveral Latin pieces his firname la
tinized into Orlandus Lafftts, according to the
cuftom of that time of latinizing firnames. Some
body that had a notion that every good mufician
* Fol. 241. muft

Po e Jt R y and Pa i n T i n g. 383
muft have been an Italian, Italianized : bpth his
names, when tranflating them into French. Row
land Laffe was a Frenchman, as the moft part
of the muficians mentioned by Guicciardin, tak
ing the name pf Frenchman in its rnoft natural
fignification, which implies all thofe 'people whofe
maternal language is French, in whatever prince'TS
dominions they are horn. As a man born at
Strafburg is a German, tho' he is a fobjed of
the King of France, fo a man born at M°AS in
Hainault is a Frenchman, tho' he be a fobjed ,p£
another prince, by reafon that the French tongue
is in Hainault the natural language pf the cpun,-.
try. Now Rowland Laffe, who died during the
reign of- our Henry the IV, wag a native pf
Mons, as may be proved from the hiftory of
Monfieur de Thou, who makes a. very long pj*
negyric on this mufician a. Neither can it be ,foid
that Laffe muft be replied an Italian, becaufe Italy-
was his country by choice. For after having
dwelt in feveral parts pf Europe, he died in the
fervice of William Duke of Bavaria, and was in
terred at Munich. In fine, this mufician is later in
time than Gaudimelfe and feveral other excellent
muficians, who fiourifhed under Henry the II.
and Francis the I.
But let us return to the operas, and the energy
which verfes receive from mufic. The addition
which poetry receives from the mufician's art, fup-
plies in fome meafure the want of probability in
this fpedacle. 'Tis quite contrary to probability,
* Lib. 119.' pag. 459. (fome

384 Critical Reflections on
(fome wiil fay) that adors fhould fpeak always
in Alexandrine verfes, as they do in our com
mon tragedies. • This I grant, as likewife that
the probability fbffers by thofe actors, who
treat of their paffions, quarrels, and interefts
in mufic. Neverthelefs the pleafure we receive
from mufic, makes amends for this defed ; and
hs expreffions give a pathetic to the opera, not
withftanding the want of probability.
We weep therefore at fome moving operas, as'
we do at the affeding foenes of recited trage
dies. The adieus of Iphigenia to Clitemneftra ne
ver drew more tears from the fpedators at the
Hotel de Bourgogne, than the difcovery of Iphige^'
nia and Oreftes have caufed to be ffied at the opera.
Boileau might have applied to the perfon who
played the part of Iphigenia in Duche's opera
fome years ago* what he faid of the adrefs, who
acted the fame perfonage in his friend's tragedy.
Jamais Iphiginie en Aulide immolee
PTa coute tant de pleurs a la Grece affembled,
§>ue dans V heureUx fpettacle a nosyeux Stale,
En a fait fous fon nbm verfer la Chanmefti a.
At Aulis, when fair Iphigenia bled,
Not half fo many tears the Grecians fhed,
As when Chanmele, with her name difguis'dt
Was in thy Iphigenia facrific' d.
J In his letter to Racine.

Poetry and Painting. 385
In fhort the fenfes are fo vaftly flattered by the
finging of the recitatives, as well as by the har
mony that accompanies them, by the chorus's,
the fymphonies, and the whole fpedacle, that
the foul which is eafily feduced by pleafure, is
inchanted by a fidion, tho' the illufion is very
palpable. Ex voluptate fides nafcitur.
I fpeak here of the generality of men. For
as there are a great many, who being too fufcepti
ble of the impreffions of mufic, attend to nothing
but the charms of the modulation, and the richnefs
of the harmony, and infift upon the compofer's fa-
crificing every thing to thefe beauties ; fo there are
fome fo infenfible of the pleafures of mufic, and whofe
ears, to make ufe of this expreffion, are fo very re
mote from their hearts, that the moft natural modu
lations have no effed upon them. 'Tis fit that
fuch people as thefe fhould be tired at the opera.
All the art a mufician is mafter of cannot com-
penfate the pleafure they are deprived of by the
want of probability, a very effential defed in a
poem, and yet an infeparable one from an opera.

Vol. I. Cg C ft A ft

386 Critical Reflections on
C H A P. XLVIll
What kind of verfes are proper efi to be fit to
mufic.
AFTER what has been faid, I will venture
to affirm, that, generally, fpeaking, mufic
has a greater, efficacy than fimple declamation,'
by giving a greater force to fuch verfes, as are
fit for its ufes : But they are not all adapted
alike to this purpofe, nor equally capable of re
ceiving the fame- energy from mufic.
We have obferved, when treating of the poetic
ftyle, that it ought to exprefs the fentiments in fim
ple terms; but it fhould reprefent all other objeds
tous, by images and pidures. We have fhewn,
when fpeaking -of mufic, that it ought to imi
tate in- its modulations, the tones, fighs, ac
cents, and all firch inarticulate founds of the
voice as are natural figns of our fentiments and
paffions. 'Tis a eonfequence that may be eafily
inferred from thefe two truths, that verfes which
are filled with fentiments are propereft to be fet to
mufic, and thofe which contain images are not fo
proper. Nature itfelf furnifhes us, in a manner, with
modulations for expreffing the fentiments.
We cannot pronounce thofe verfes with warmth,
which contain any tender and moving fentiments,
without breaking out into fighs, and employing
'afcctnts'antf inflexions olthe voice, which a man en
dowed

Poe try and Painting. 387
dowed with a mufical genius, reduces eafily to a
continued modulation. Certain I am, that Lulli
was not long in fearch of the tune of thefe verfes,
which Medea fings in the opera of Thefeus.
Mon cceur auroit encore fa premiere innocence
S'il n'avbit jamais eu d' amour.
My heart might ftill if s innocence have kept,
Had it not loved  — — —
I affirm moreover, that a man of genius, who
Compofes on fueh-like, words, difcovers that he has
varied his melody, without having even fo
much as thought of diverfifying it. Each fen
timent has its proper tones, accents, and
fighs. Vvherefore a mufician compofing oh fuch
as the above-cited Verfes, forms modulations as
various, as nature herfelf is varied.
Verfes which contain pidures and images, and
have frequently the name of poetry by way of pre
ference, do not lay open fo fair a field to the mufi
cian for ffiewing his abilities. Nature furniffies
hardly any thing for the expreffion'. 'Tis art
alone Gan affift.the, mufician, who Would attempt
to fet to mufic t fuch verfes as thefe, in which
Corneille draws, fo lively a pidure of the tri
umvirate. Z,e michantpar le prlx au crime, encourage,
Le mari dans fen lit par fa femme egorge :
C c 2 Le

388 Critical Reflections on
Le fils tout degoutant du meurtre de fon pere,
Et fa tete a la main demandant- fon falaire,
&c.
The villain whom the bribe to crime invites ;
The hufband murdered by his wife in bed ;
The fon imbrud with blood, an.d ftretching forth
His father's head, demands for th' impious deed
The promis'd recompence, &c.
In fad a mufician obliged to fet fuch verfes as thefe,
would find but very little refource for his melody
in the natural declamation of the words. He muft
therefore throw himfelf into fuch modulations, as
are rather noble and impofing than expreffive ; and
as nature does not affift him to vary thefe mo
dulations, he muff fall at length into a difagreable
uniformity. Since mufic therefore adds hardly
any energy at all to verfes whofe beauty confifts
in images ; fince, it rather enervates their force,
by flackening the pronunciation; a good lyric
poet, let him have everfo rich a vein, will care
fully avoid inferring fuch verfes as thofe of Cor
neille above-cited. Wherefore the reproach caft
upon Monfieur Quinault, when he wrote his firft
operas, that his verfes were naked, and deftitute of
thofe images which form the fublime in poetry ;
this reproach, I fay, was extremely ill grounded ;
as that was efteemed a defed, which conftituted
his greateft merit. But they did not feem "to
underftand at that time in France, the merit of

vv Poe try and Painting. 389
of verfes compofed for mufic. We had as yet
wrote nothing but fongs, ahd as thefe little
poems are only defigned for the expreffion of
a few fentiments, they could not furnifh roorri
for the obfervations, which have been fince
made on lyric poetry. As foon as we com
menced to write operas, the fpirit of philofo-
phizing, which has an excellent hand in clearing
up truth* provided it takes care not to run before
experience, convinced us, that thofe verfes which
are moft flocked with images, and generally
fpeaking, are the moft beautiful, are not the pro-
pereft for mufic. There is no comparifon be
tween the two following ftanzas, when they are
only recited. The firft is from the opera of
Thefeus wrote by Quinault.
Doux repos, innocente paix,
Heureux, heureux un cceur qui ne vous perd
jamais !
Vimpitoyable amour m'a toujours pourfuivie,
N'etoit ce point affez des maux qu'il m'ayoit
faits ?
Pourquoy ce Dieu cruel avecde nouveaux traits,
Vient-il encore troubler le refte de ma vie ?
. Sweet peace and innocent repofe,
How bleft is he who taftes thy charms !
Whofe heart no cares can difcompofe,
Nor bitter jealoufy alarms.
Cc 3 But

350 CRJTlf4t Kf FLEgTiOJfi on
But I alas ! am dogtrfd to. fpnd
My days and ni&¥s* 4?priv'd of reft*
Purfu'd ky plagues., that, e'er attend
A miferable love-ftek breaft.
Stop, cruel love, feep back thy AwU
Enough ; I can no more endure :
Heav'ns ! 'tis too hard a fate to finart
With wounds, that death alone can cure.
The fecond is from the Idyllium on peace, by
Monfieur Racine.
Deja grondoieni les horribles tennerres
Par qui font brifez les remparts,
Deja marchoit devayit les Stendarts
Bellone les cheveux Spars,
Et fe flatoit d'Sternifer les guerr.es
H$ue fes fureurs fouffloientde toutes parts.
Now the dreadful cannons rumbling
Roll their thunder thro' the fey ;
Now the lofty ramparts tumbling,
All in Jhatter'd ruins lye.
Fierce Bellona fcatf 'ring. terror,
Round th' embattled legions flew,
Clad in adamantine armor,
Deep imbru'd with purple hue. Hiffing

Poetry ^Painting. 391
Hiffing fnakes her hair intwining
Fill'd the fikies with poifon'd breath,
With the cruel goddefs joining
In her bloody fchemes of death.
Thefe two French flanzas are very far from
having fucceeded alike in mufic. Thirty perhaps
retain the firft, for one that remembers the fe
cond ; and yet they were both fet to mufic by
Lulli, who had even ten years additional expe
rience, when he compofed the Idyllium on peace.
But the reafon is, the firft includes the natural
fentiments of a heart agitated with a new paffion.
The only image it contains, is that of love ffioot-
ing his darts againft Medea, an image that is ex
tremely fimple. But Racine's verfes difplay the
moft pompous images that poetry can be decked
out in. Thofe who can forget for a moment
the effed produced by thefe verfes, when they are ,
fung, will with juftice prefer Racine to Quinault.
'Tis therefore generally allowed at prefent,
that Quinault's lyric verfes are extremely well
adapted to mufic, for the very reafon which ren
dered them fo liable to be cenfured at the com
mencement of our operas, that is by the cha-
rader of their poetic ftyle : but that they were
alfo fit for that purpofe by the mechanifm of
their compofition, or the arrangement of the
words regarded as fimple founds, is a truth
which could never be reafonably contefted. ,
: Cc 4 CHAP.

392 Critical Reflections on
CHAP. XLVin.
Of Prints, and Poems tn profe.
I Should like to compare prints, where we find
every part of the pidure except the color
ing, to romances written in profe, where we meet
with the fidion and ftyle of poetry ; which renders
them poems in every refpect, exclufive of rhime
and meafure. The invention of prints, and that of
poems in profe, are both pf them equally excel
lent. By prints the pidures of the moft cele
brated artifts are infinitely multiplied. They, ren
der thofe capable of enjoying them, whom the
diftance of places has debarred from being fo hap
py as to behold them. We fee from Paris by
the affiftance of prints, the fineft beauties that
Raphael has drawn on the walls of the Vatican. A
private perfon can likewife bring within the compafs
of his own cabinet all the wit and poetry that
are in the greateft matter-pieces of painting ; whofe
beauties feemed referved for the cabinets of princes,
or of fuch as have raifed themfelves to fortunes equal
to thofe of princes, by managing their finances. In
like manner we are indebted to poetry in profe for fe
veral works filled with adventures, that are probable
and marvelous at the fame time, as alfo for precepts
that are fage and pradicable, which would never
have feen public light, had the authors been obliged
to fubmit their genius to the flavery of rhime
and meafure. The authors of the Princefs of
Cleves and Tekmachus, would nevet have fa
vored

Poet>ry and Painting. 933
vored us perhaps with thefe works, had they
been obliged to write them in verfe. There are
fine poems without verfe, as there are fine verfes
without poetry, and good pidures without a rich
coloring. It will avail very little to fay, that
the coloring is that which conftitutes the pain
ter, and that he understands his profeffion, only
inafmuch as he knows how to color. This is al-
ledging in proof a queftion, which even after in
quiry muft, methinks, be left undecided. But
this is a point which requires a further ex
plication.

CHAP. XLIX.
That it is ufelefs to difpute, -whether the part
that takes in the defign and the expreffion
be preferable to that of the coloring.
TH E perfedion of the defign, as well as
that of coloring are real things, concern
ing which we may difpute and agree by the help
of rule or comparifon. Wherefore men of fenfe
will agree among themfelves with regard to the
rank which Le Brun holds among the compofers
and defigners, as well as to that which Titian has
among the colorifts. But the queftion, whether Le
Brun be preferable to Titian ; that is, whether
the part of poetic compofition and expreffion be
fuperior to that of coloring, is, methinks, a
very

394 Critical- Reflections on
very umufeful point to examine. People of bppS-
fite fentiments will never be able to agree about
this pre-eminence, whereof we are always apt to
judge by our own inclinations. According as we
are more or lefs affected with the coloring, or with
the pidurefque poetry, we prefer the colorift to the
poet, or the poet on the contrary to the colorift.
The greateft painter, with regard to us, is he
whofe works afford us moft pleafure.
Men are not equally affeded either by the coloring,
or the expreffion. There are fome who have (if
I may ufe this phrafe) a more voluptuous eye
than others. Their eyes are organized in fuch a
manner, that the harmony and truth of colors af-
fed them in a much livelier manner, than
other people. Another man, whofe eye has
not fo happy a conformation, but who has a
much fenfibler heart, finds in the moving ex
preffions a fuperior pleafure to that, which he re
ceives from the harmony and truth of local co
lors. All men have not an equal delicacy in the
fame fenfe. Some have the fenfe of feeing better
in proportion than the other fenfitive faculties.
Hence fome prefer Pouffin to Titian, and others
the latter to the former.
Thofe who judge without refledion, generally
fuppofe, that objeds have the fame inward effect
upon others, as upon themfelves. He that
maintains the fuperiority bf Pouffin, cannot con
ceive how a poet, whofe inventions afford him fo
exquifite a pleafure, can be ranked below an artift,
who is only pradifed in the difpofition of colors ;
the

Po e try and Paintimg. 395
the harmony and richnefs whereof have a very in
different effed upon him. An admirer of Titian^
on the other hand, complains of Pouffin's favorer,'
for preferring a painter unpradifed in the. art of
charming the eye to Titian;, and this only for
fome inventions, with which he fancies the gene
rality of men are very little moved, as he is but
very indifferently affected with them himfelf. The
opinion of each perfon fuppofes, as a thing deter
mined, that the part of painting which pleafes
himfelf moft, ought to have the preference to
the reft ; wherefore by purfuing the fame princi
ple men find their fentiments differ. Trahit fud
quemque voluptas. They would be quite right,
were each perfon fatisfied with judging for him
felf ; but their miftake lies in attempting to judge
for other people. Men are naturally inclinable
to believe their own tafte to^ be right, and of
courfe they think, that thofe who do not judge
as they do, have their organs imperfed, or
that they are overfwayed by prejudices, with
out being fo much as fenfible of the force of the
prevention. Whofoever therefore defires a perfon to alter
his fentiment on things which depend purely up
on tafte, muft firft of all make him change his or
gans. But the beft way is for every one to con
tinue in their own opinion, without cenfuring
that of others. To endeavour to convince a man
that he is in the wrong, when he follows his own
fentiment in preferring the coloring to the expref
fion, is the fame thing, as if you were to attempt to

396 Critical Reflections on
to perfuade him to take more pleafure in beholding
Pouffin's pidures than thofe of Titian. The thing
depends no mpre on him, than it depends on a man
whofe palate is fo formed, as to receive a greater
pleaftire from Champagne than Spanifh wine, to
alter his tafte, and give Spanifh wine the pre
ference. The prepofieffion we have in favor of one part
of painting preferable to another, depends no more
on our reafon, than the paffion we have for one
kind of poetry in preference to another. It depends
intirely on our tafte ; and this on our organiza
tion, prefent inclinations, and the fituation of our
minds. When our tafte happens to change, 'tis
not becaufe we have been perfuaded into it,
but there has been fome phyfical alteration in
our bodies. True it is, that this change is fre
quently fo infenfible, that we cannot difcover
it but by the help of refledion, as it is made
gradually and imperceptibly. Age and feveral
Other caufes produce thefe changes. A melan
choly paffion renders us fond for a while of
fuch books as fuit our prefent humor ; but
we alter our tafte as foon as we receive a
glimpfe of comfort. A perfon who in his early
years was fonder of reading La Fontaine's fables,
than Racine's tragedies, will give a preference to
the latter when he comes to the age of thirty.
I fay give a preference, which does not imply to
praife the one and condemn the other ; for when
he prefers the reading of Racine's tragedies to that
of the fables of La Fontaine, this does not hinder him

Poetry and Painting. 397
him From praifing at the fame time, and even from
being fond of thofe fables. The perfon here fpoken
of, when he is turned of fixty, will like Moliere's
plays, which will exhibit fo perfedly to his view
the different fcenes of the world he has feen, and
furnifh him with frequent occafions of refleding
on what he has obferved during the courfe of his
life ; better than he will like Racine's tragedies,
for which he had fo great a tafte, when he was
taken up with the paffions defcribed in thofe pieces.
Particular taftes do not debar people from doing
juftice to good authors, nor from diftinguiffiing
thofe who have excelled even in that kind for
which they have no inclination. But this is a fub
jed, which we ffiall explain more at large at the
end of the fecond part of this work.

CHAP. L.
Of fculpture, and the abilities if requires ;
and of the art of Bajfo-relievos.
WHATEVER has been faid with regard
to the ordonnance and expreffion of pic
tures, may be likewife applied to fculpture. The
chifel is capable of imitating, and in the hands of
a man of genius, it knows how to engage us, al
moft as well as the pencil. True it is, that one
maybe a fculptor, without having fo much inventi
on as is neceffary to form an excellent painter ; but if

398 Critical Reflection o»
if the fculpror has not fo great an octfafton for
the poetic part, he can notwithftanding make fuch
a ufe thereof, as may raife him much above the
level of his competitors. There are feveral pro-
dudions of fculpture fufficient to convince us,
that in the hands of a man of genius this art i£
capable of the moft noble operations of painting.
Such is the hiftory ofNiobe, fepreftnfM in four
teen or fifteen ftatues cOnneded together by the
fame action, the learned remains of this antique
compofition are to be feen at Rome in the Villa
of Medicis. Such was the group of Alexander*
wounded and fuppprted by his foldiers, of which
Pafquift and the Trunk of Belveder are part of
she figures. And to fpeak of modern fculpture,.
fuch is the tomb of Cardinal Riehlieu, the rape
of Proferpine by Girardon, the fountain of Piazza
Navoha, and the extafy of St Therefe by Bernini,
as likewife Algardi's Baffo-relievo, which repre
fents St Peter and St Paul in the air, menacing
Attila on his march to plunder the city of Rome.
This ferves for an altar-piece in the church Of
St Peter.
I am not even certain, whether it does not re
quire a greater ftrength of genius to extract from
marble fuch a compofition as that of Attila,* than
to draw it upon canvas. In fad, the poetry and
expreffions thereof are as moving as that of Ra
phael's picture, in which he has treated the fame^
fobjed ; and the fculptor'fr execution, who feerttS
to have found out the Chiaro-fcuro with his Chifel,:
is, methinks, a performance of greater merit, than
3 that

Poetry and Pain t % n g. 399
that of the painter. , The figures which are on the
fore- part of this magnificent piece are almoft in
full relievo, and are real ftatues. Thofe that are
behind have lefs relievo, and their ftrokes are
more or lefs difcernihle, ini proportion to the dif
ference of their deepnings. In fine, the compofi>
tion finishes with feveral'figures, defignedby fimple
touches on the furface of the marble. I do not
pretend to commend Algardi, as if he had drawn
from. his own genius the firft idea of .this execu
tion, nor for being;; the inventer. of the great art
of Low- relieves^ but for having- confiderably im
proved, by the work heie. mentioned, an art difco*
vered before his time. ,.• . t . , ;• . ,.,-•¦
. We do not fihdi at leaft by any ©f thie remain*
ing fragments.: of Greek, and Roman; fculpture,
that this art was ^perfectly underftood by the
ancients. Their,|feinlptors : could only cut fi
gures in relievo} . peEpendBculaiJly dowft feomr
head. to foot, and dap them, as it Were, on the
ground." of the Baffo-relkvcv fo that, the figure!
which . deepned ¦ in,. ' recti ved . -moJdegraBatipnr Of
light. A tower which feems to be five hundred
paces diftant from the fore-pan e of. the Low-re
lieve, to judge by the proportion*, of a foldier
mounted, thereon,. te> the perfbnagete pMedneareft
the edge of the plain, tftistoiwer, . L fay, is cut as
if it were feen at. tie diftance of fifty paces. We,
may ^ perceive diftmctfyr- the joining of the flones*
and reckon she rifes: of i. the roof. ''Tis not thus that
objects prefebt ehewfeiyes to us iriitmrdHy. They
appe& noror^fasallerin proportion to their re?
. ;. • " motenefs,

34° Critical Reflections. c«
motenefs, but they are even confufed, when they
are at a certain diftance, by the interpofition of
the air. The modern fcuiptors, better inftruded
herein than the ancients, confound the ftrokes
of objeds which fink into the Baflb- relievo, and
thus preferve the rules of perfoedive. With
two or three inches of relievo they make fome
figures, which appear in full relievo, and others
which feem to fink into the deepning. They
reprefent alfo landfkips thrown ingenioufly into
perfpedive by. a diminution of: the ftrokes,-
which being not only fmaller, but likewife lefs
diftind;, and mixing with one another as they
remove further off, produce the fame effed al
moft in fculpture, as the degradation of colors
in a pidure. We may therefore venture to affirm,
that the ancients had not this art in fuch per-
fedion as we have it at prefent, tho' we meet
with admirable fine figures in the antique Baffo-
relievos. Such are the women-dancers of the
Louvre, copied after the antique Low-relieve at
Rome, which fo many great fcuiptors have made
the fubjed of their ftudies.
I do not find, that the recompence of thirty
thoufand crowns which Algardi received of Pope
Innocent X. for his Baflb-relievo, was more
than he defer ved. I could likewife fhew, that Ca
valier Bernini and Girardon have interfperfed as
much poetry in their works, as Algardi, were I
not afraid of growing tirefome to my reader. I
ffiall only therefore, from amongft all the inven
tions of Bernini, fingle out one ftroke of art he
3 has

Poetry and Painting.' p^i
has fhewn in his fountain in the piazza Navona,
to exprefs a particular circumftance of the courfe
of the Nile, that is, the obfcurity of its fource ;
Nature, as Lucan fays, being unwilling that
this river ffiould ever appear in the diminutive fi
gure of a brook.
Arcanum natura caput non protulit alii,
Nee licuit 'papulis parvum te, Nile, videre.
LuCAN. 1. IO.
Nature conceals thy infant ftream with care,
Nor letj thee but in majefty appear* Rdwe.
The head of the ftatue reprefenting the Nile,
which Bernini has diftinguiffied by the attri
butes affigned by the ancients to this river,
is covered with a veil. This ftroke, which
was not borrowed "of antiquity, but was the
fculptor's own invention, expreffes moft inge-
nioufly the great number of attempts, the anci
ents and moderns had made to difcover the
fource of the Nile, by tracing it up jts channel.
Bernini's allegory- expreffes moft nobly the
Nile's unwillingnefs to difcover its fountain head.
This was according to the opinion that prevailed
at Rome under the Pontificate of Innocent X,
when Bernini made this fountain. 'Tis true, the
curious muft have had already fome knowledge
of the difeoveries made by the Fathers Emmanuel
d' Almeida, and Jerome Lobo ; tho' the hiftory
Vol. I. Dd of

y^z Critical Reflections on
of the upper Ethiopia by father'Tellez, who was
the firft that favored the public with thefe difeo
veries, had not yet appeared ; for it was not printed
'till fix years after the death of Innocent X. a But
the particular relations, which the portuguefe Je-
fuits tranfmitted to Rome, and what had been
handed about from the accounts given by thofe
fathers who were returned to Europe, might
have already acquainted the curious that the
fource of the Nile was difcovered at length in
Abyffinia b.
Fads of a marvelous nature continue to be true
with refped to poets of all kinds, a long while
after they have ceafed to be fo with regard to hif
torians and other writers, whofe principal objed is
truth. I am even of opinion, that painters, po
ets, and fcuiptors ought to follow the moft com
mon and received notions of their times, relating
to many phyfical, aftronomical, and geographical
fads, tho' they happen to be juftly contradided
by the learned. Thus the fwallow's flight, which
fkims along the ground, muft be reckoned timo
rous by the poet ; tho' it be reputed a very bold
flight by Borelli and other learned men, who haVe
ftudied the mechanical ftrudure of animals. They
muft alfo make the female of the bee-hive the king
of the fwarm, and attribute to her all the ingenious
things that have been faid concerning this pre
tended prince without a fling. I do not deny,
a Printed at Conimbra in 1661.
b Hiftory of Ethiopia, at Alt. c. 6. that,

Poetry and Painting. 343
that, when thefe truths become common in procefs
of time, poets muft at length conform to them :
However 'tis not their bufinefs to pretend to
eftabliffi the like truths, nor to advance any
thing that may claffi with vulgar opinions ; un-
lefs they ffiould happen to write fome of thofe
pieces, which we have diftinguiffied by the name
of Dogmatic poems.

The End of the Firfi Volume.

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