Monsieur Bossu's Treatise of the Epick Poem/Monsieur Fontanelle upon Pastorals
Of all kinds of Poetry the Pastoral is probably the most Ancient, as the keeping of Flocks was one of the first Employments which Men took up. 'Tis very likely that these primitive Shepherds, amidst the Tranquility and Leisure which they enjoy'd, bethought themselves of singing their Pleasures and their Loves; and then their Flocks, the Woods, the Springs, and all those Objects that were most familiar to them naturally came into the Subject of their Songs. They liv'd in great plenty after their way, without any controul by Superiour Power, being in a manner the Kings of their own Flocks; and I do not doubt but that a certain Joy and Openness of Heart that generally attends Plenty and Liberty induo'd them to sing, and to make Verses.
Society in time was brought to perfection, or rather declin'd and was perverted; and Men took up Employments that seem'd to them of greater consequence; more weighty affairs fill'd their Minds, Towns and Cities were built every where, and mighty States at last were founded and establisht. Then those who liv'd in the Country became Slaves to those who dwelt in Cities, and the Pastoral Life being grown the Lot of the most wretched sort of People, no longer inspir'd any delightful Thought.
To please others in ingenious Composures, Men ought to be in a condition to free themselves from pressing want; and their Minds ought to be refin'd through a long use of Civil Society: Now a Pastoral Life has always wanted one of these two Circumstances: The primitive Shepherds, of whom we have spoken, liv'd indeed in plenty enough, but in their Times the World had not yet had leisure to grow polite. The following Ages might have produc'd something more refin'd, but the Shepherds of those Days were too poor and dejected: So that the Country-way of living, and the Poetry of Shepherds must needs have been always very homely and artless.
And indeed nothing is more certain, than that no real Shepherds can be altogether like those of Theocritus. Can any one think that 'tis natural for Shepherds to say like his?
[1]Gods! When she view'd, how strong was the Surprise!
Her Soul took Fire, and sparkled through her Eyes!
How did her Passions, how her Fury move!
How soon she plung'd into th' Abyss of Love!
Let the following Passages be examin'd:
O that, to Crown what e're my Wish can crave,
I were that Bee which flies into your Cave!
There softly through your Garland wou'd I creep,
And steal a Kiss when you are fast asleep!
I know what Love is now, a cruel God,
A Tygress bore, and nurs'd him in a Wood,
A cruel God, he shoots through ev'ry Vein———
The Fair Calistris, as my Goats I drove,
With Apples palts me, and still murmurs Love.
The Pastures flourish, and the Flocks improve,
All smiles, so soon as here resorts my Love;
But Oh! When e're the dear one leaves the place,
At once there fades the Shepherds and the Grass.
Ye Gods, I wish not heaps of Gold refin'd,
Nor rapid swiftness to outstrip the Wind;
But let me sit and sing by yonder Rock,
Clasp thee, my Dear, and view my feeding Flock.
I am of opinion that there will be found in these Expressions more Beauty and more Delicacy of Imagination than real Shepherds have.
But I don't know how Theocritus having sometimes rais'd his Shepherds in so pleasing a manner above their native Genius, could let them so very often fall to it again: I wonder he did not perceive 'twas fit that a certain gross Clownishness, which is always very unbecoming, should be omitted. When Daphnis in the first Idyllium is ready to die for Love, and a great number of Deities are come to visit him, in the midst of that honourable Company, he is reprov'd for being like the Goat-herds, who envy the pleasure of their Copulating Goats, and are Jealous of them; and 'tis most certain that the Terms us'd by Theocritus to represent this, are much of the kind of the Idea which they give.
Ah Daphnis, loose and wanton in thy Love!
A Herdsman thought, thou dost a Goat-herd prove:
A Goat-herd, when he sees the Kids at Rut,
Sits down, and grieves that he's not born a Goat:
Thus, when you see the Virgins Dance, you grieve,
Because refus'd, and now disdain to live.
In another Idyllium the Goat-herd Comatas, and the Herdsman Laco contend about some Theft, which they have committed against each other; Comatas stole Laco's Pipe, and Laco had stollen the Skin which Comatas us'd to wear to cover himself withal, so that he had left him bare. They rail at each other, and vent their Passion in reviling and abusive Words, which might become a couple of Græcians, but certainly are not over civil; and then, after a gentle Item which one of them gives the other of smelling rank, they both sing for a Wager; the one having challeng'd the other to that Musical Fight, though it should rather have been to a Rubbers at Fisticuffs, considering what went before; and what seems the more odd, is, that whereas they begun with gross Taunts and ill Language, now that they are going to sing against each other, they affect an uncommon niceness concerning the Choice of the Place where they are to sing; each proposing one, of which he makes a florid Description. For my part, I have much a-do to believe that all this is very well set together. Their Songs are as odly diversify'd; for among the things that relate to their Amours, and that are pretty, Comatas puts Laco in mind of a Beating which he bestow'd upon him; and Laco answers him, that he does not remember it, but that he has not forgot how Comatas was bound and soundly lash'd by his Master Eumaras. I do not fansie that those who say that Venus, the Graces, and Cupid compos'd Theocritus's Idyllia, will pretend that they had a hand in these Passages.
There are some other Places in Theocritus that are not altogether so low, which yet are not very entertaining, because they barely treat of Country Matters. His fourth Idyllium is wholly of this kind. The Subject of it is only a certain Ægon, who, being gone to the Olympick Games, has left his Herds to one Corydon. Battus tells the Trustee, that the Herds are in a pitiful condition since Ægon left them. Corydon answers, that he does his best, that he drives them to the best Pastures he knows, and feeds them at a Rack of Hay. Battus says that Ægon's Pipe is spoil'd and mouldy in his absence; Corydon replys. that it is not so, that Ægon when he went gave it him, and that he is a notable Piper. Then Battus desires Corydon, to pull a Thorn out of his Foot, and the other having advis'd him never to walk over Mountains without his Shooes, the Idyllium presently concludes, a thing which those who are not conversant with Antiquity, would scarce have believ'd possible.
When in a Pastoral Strife one says, Ho! My Goats go on the Brow of yonder Hill; and the other answers, Go, my Sheep, feed on to the Eastward.
Or, I hate the brush-tail'd Fox, which comes at Night and devours our Grapes; and the other, I hate the Beetles that Eat the Figs.
Or, when one says, I have made my self a Bed with Cow's Skins near a cool Stream,
And there I value Summer's burning Heats,
No more than Children do their Fathers Threats,
Their Mothers kind Complaints, &c.
And the other answers, I live in a large shady Cave, where
Soft Chitterlings afford me pleasing Food,
And when the Winter comes I'm stor'd with wood;
So that I value cold no more, not I,
Than toothless Men do Nuts when Pap is by.
May not these Discourses be thought too Clownish, and fitter to be spoken by real Country Fellows than by such Shepherds as are introduc'd in Eclogues?
Virgil, who having had the Example of Theocritus before his Eyes, has had an opportunity to outdo him, hath made his Shepherds more polite and agreeable. Any one who compares his third Eclogue with that of Laco and Comatas in Theocritus will easily find how well he cou'd rectifie and surpass what he did imitate: Not but that he still somewhat too much resembles Theocritus, when he loses some time in making his Pastors say,
Beware the Stream, drive not the Sheep too nigh,
The Bank may fail, the Ram is hardly dry.
And, Kids from the River drive, and sling your Hook,
Anon I'll wash them in the shallow Brook.
And, Boys, drive to Shades, when Milk is drain'd by heat,
In vain the Milk-Maid stroaks an empty Teat.
All this is the less pleasing considering that it comes after some tender things which are very pretty and genteel, and which have made the Reader the more unfit to relish such things as altogether relate to the Country.
Calpurnius a Writer of Eclogues, who liv'd almost three hundred Years after Virgil, and whose Works however are not wholly destitute of Beauty, seems to have been sorry that Virgil did express but with the Words, Novimus & qui te, those Injurious Terms with which Laco and Comatas treat one another in Theocritus; tho after all, it had yet been better had Virgil wholly supprest that short hint. Calpurnius has judg'd this Passage worthy a larger extent and therefore wrote an Eclogue which is made up of nothing but those Invectives, with which two Shepherds ready to sing for a Prize, ply each other with a great deal of Fury, till the Shepherd who was to be their Judge, is so affrighted that he runs away and leaves 'em. A very fine Conclusion!
But no Author ever made his Shepherds so clownish as J. Baptista Mantuanus, a Latin Poet, who liv'd in the foregoing Age, and who has been compar'd to Virgil, tho he has indeed nothing common with him besides his being of Mantua. The Shepherd Faustus describing his Mistress, says, that she had a good big bloated red Face, and that, though she was almost blind of an Eye, he thought her more beautiful than Diana. 'Twere impossible to guess what precaution another Shepherd takes before he begins a Discourse of considerable length; and who knows but that our modern Mantuan valued himself mightily upon having copied Nature most faithfully in those Passages?
I therefore am of Opinion, that Pastoral Poetry cannot be very charming if it is as low and clownish as Shepherds naturally are; or if it precisely runs upon nothing but rural Matters. For, to hear one speak of Sheep and Goats, and of the care that ought to be taken of those Animals, has nothing which in it self can please us; what is pleasing is the Idea of quietness, which is inseparable from a Pastoral Life. Let a Shepherd say, My Sheep are in good Case, I conduct them to the best Pastures, they feed on nothing but the best Grass, and let him say this in the best Verse in the World, I am sure that your imagination will not be very much delighted with it. But let him say, How free from anxious Cares is my Life! In what a quiet state I pass my Days! All my Desires rise no higher than that I may see my Flocks in a thriving condition, and the Pastures wholesome and pleasing; I envy no Man's Happiness, &c. You perceive that this begins to become more agreeable: The reason of it is, that the Idea runs no longer immediately upon Country Affairs, but upon the little share of Care which Shepherds undergo, and upon the quietness and leisure which they enjoy; and what is the chiefest point, upon the cheapness of their Happiness.
For, all Men would be happy, and that too at an easie rate. A quiet Pleasure is the common object of all their Passions, and we are all controuled by a certain Laziness: Even those who are most stirring are not precisely such for Business sake, or because they love to be in action, but because they cannot easily satisfie themselves.
Ambition, as it is too much an Enemy to this natural Laziness, is neither a general Passion nor very Delicious. A considerable part of Mankind is not ambitious; many have begun to be such, but by the means of some undertakings and ties that have determin'd them before they seriously reflected on what they did, and that have made them unfit ever to return to calmer Inclinations; and even those who have most ambition, do often complain of the Cares which it exacts and the Pains that attend it. The reason of this is that the Native Laziness, of which we were speaking, is not wholly supprest, though it has been sacrificed to that presumptuous Tyrant of the Mind; it prov'd the weakest, and cou'd not over balance its Rival; yet it still subsists and continually opposes the motions of ambition. Now no Man can be happy while he is divided by two warring Inclinations.
However, I do not say that Men can relish a state of absolute Laziness and Idleness; No, they must have some motion, some agitation, but it must be such a motion and agitation as may be reconcil'd, if possible, to the kind of Laziness that possesses 'em; and this is most happily to be found in Love, provided it be taken in a certain manner. It must neither be a hot, jealous, touchy, furious, desperate Love, but tender, pure, simple, delicate, faithful, and, that it may preserve it self in this state, attended with hopes: Then the heart is taken up, but not disturb'd; we have Cares, but no uneasinesses; we are mov'd, but not torn, and this soft Motion is just such, as the love of Rest, and our Native Laziness can bear it.
Besides, 'tis most certain that Love is the most general and the most agreable of all the Passions. So, in the State of Life which we have now describ'd, there is a concurrence of the two strongest Passions, Laziness and Love; which thus are both satisfied at once; and, that we may be as happy as 'tis possible we should by the Passions, 'tis necessary that all those by which we are mov'd, agree together in us.
This is properly what we conceive of a Pastoral Life. For, it admits of no ambition, nor of any thing that moves the heart with too much Violence; Therefore our Laziness has cause to be contented. But this way of living by reason of its idleness and tranquility creates Love more easily than any other, or at least indulges it more: But after all, what Love! A Love more innocent, because the Mind is not so dangerously refin'd; more assiduous, because those who feel it are not diverted by any other Passion; more full of Discretion, because they hardly have any acquaintance with Vanity; more faithful because with a Vivacity of Imagination less used, they have also less uneasiness, less distaste, and less fickleness; that is to say, in short, a Love purg'd of whatever the Excesses of human Fancy have sophisticated it with.
This consider'd, 'tis not to be admir'd why the Pictures which are drawn of a Pastoral Life, have always something so very smiling in them, and indulge our Fancies more than the Pompous Description of a splendid Court and of all the Magnificence that can shine there. A Court gives us no Idea but of toilsome and constrain'd Pleasures: For, as we have observ'd, the Idea is all in all: Cou'd the Scene of this quiet Life, with no other business but Love, be plac'd any where but in the Country, so that no Goats nor Sheep shou'd be brought in, I fansie it would be never the worse; for, the Goats and Sheep add nothing to its Felicity; but as the scene must lye either in the Country or in Towns, it seems more reasonable to chuse the First.
As the Pastoral Life is the most idle of all others, 'tis also the most fit to be the Ground work of those Ingenious Representations of which we are speaking. So that no Ploughmen, Reapers, Vine-dressers or Hunts men, can by any means be so properly introduc'd in Eclogues, as Shepherds: Which confirms what I said, that what makes this kind of Poetry please, is not it's giving an Image of a Country Life, but rather the Idea which it gives of the tranquility and Innocence of that Life.
Yet there is an Idyllium of Battus and Milo, two Reapers in Theocritus, which has Beauties. Milo asks Battus why he does not Reap as fast as he used to do? He answers, that he is in Love, and then sings something that's very pretty about the Woman that he loves. But Milo laughs at him, and tells him he is a Fool, for being so idle as to be in Love; that this is not an Imployment fit for one who Works for Food; and that, to divert himself and excite one another to Work, he should sing some Songs which he denotes to him, and which altogether relate to the Harvest. I must needs own that I do not so well like this Conclusion. For I would not be drawn from a pleasing and soft Idea to another that is low and without Charms.
Sannazarius has introduced none but Fishermen in his Eclogues; and I always perceive, when I read those Piscatory Poems, that the Idea which I have of the Fishermen's hard and toilsome way of living, shocks me. I don't know what moved him to bring in Fishermen instead of Shepherds, who were in possession of the Eclogue time out of mind, but had the Fishermen been in possession of it, it had been necessary to put the Shepherds in their place: For, singing, and above all, an Idle life becomes none but Shepherds: Besides methinks 'tis prettier and more genteel to send Flowers or Fruit to one's Mistress, than send her Oysters as Sannazarius's Lyco doth to his.
'Tis true that Theocritus hath an Idyllium of two Fishermen; but it doth not seem to me so beautiful as to have deserv'd to tempt any Man to write one of that kind. The subject of it is this; Two old Fishermen had but sparingly supp'd together in a wretched little Thatcht-house, by the Sea-side: One of them wakes his Bedfellow to tell him, he had just dreamt that he was catching a Golden Fish; and the other answers him, that he might starve though he had really caught such a one. Was this worth writing an Eclogue!
However, though none but Shepherds were introduc'd in Eclogues, 'tis impossible but that the Life of Shepherds which after all is yet very Clownish must sessen and debase their Wit, and hinder their being as ingenious, nice, and full of gallantry as they are commonly represented in Pastorals. The famous Lord D'urfé's Astræa seems a less fabulous Romance than Amadis de gaule; yet I fansie that in the main it is as incredible, as to the politeness and graces of his Shepherds, as Amadis can be as to all its Enchantments, all its Fairies, and the Extravagance of its adventures. How comes it then that Pastorals please in spight of the falsity of the Characters, which ought always to shock us? Could we be pleased with seeing some Courtiers represented as having a Clownishness which should resemble that of real Shepherds as much as the Gallantry which Shepherds have in Pastorals resembles that of Courtiers? No, doubtless; but indeed that Character of the Shepherds is not false after all, if we look upon it one way: For we do not mind the meanness of the Concerns that are their real Employment, but the little trouble which those Concerns bring. This meanness would wholly exclude Ornaments and Gallantry, but on the other hand the quiet state promotes them; and 'tis only on that tranquility that whatever pleases in a Pastoral Life is grounded.
Our Imagination is not to be pleased without Truth; but it is not very hard to please it; for, often 'tis satisfied with a kind of half Truth. Let it see only the half of a Thing, but let that half be shown in a lively manner, then it will hardly bethink it self that you hide from it the other half, and you may thus deceive it as long as you please, since all the while it imagines that this single moiety, with the Thoughts of which it is taken up, is the whole Thing. The Illusion and at the same time the pleasingness of Pastorals therefore consists in exposing to the Eye only the Tranquility of a Shepherd's Life, and in dissembling or concealing its meanness, as also in showing only its Innocence and hiding its Miseries; so that I do not comprehend why Theocritus dwelt so much upon its Miseries and Clownishness.
If those who are resolved to find no faults in the Ancients, tell us that Theocritus had a mind to draw Nature just such as it is, I hope that according to those principles, we shall have some Idyllia of Porters, or Watermen discoursing together of their particular Concerns: Which will be every whit as good as some Idyllia of Shepherds speaking of nothing but their Goats or their Cows.
The Business is not purely to describe, we must describe such Objects as are delightful: When the quiet that reigns in the Country, and the simplicity and tenderness which are discover'd there in making Love, are represented to me, my Imagination, mov'd and affected with these pleasing Ideas, is fond of a Shepherd's Life; but tho' the vile and low Employments of Shepherds, were describ'd to me with all the exactness possible, I shou'd never be taken with 'em, and my Imagination wou'd not in the least be touch'd. The chief advantage of Poetry consists in representing to us in a lively manner the things that concern us, and in striking strongly a Heart which is pleas'd with being mov'd.
Here's enough, and perhaps too much against these Shepherds of Theocritus, and those who, like 'em, have too much of the Shepherd in 'em. What we have left of Moschus and Bion in the Pastoral kind, makes me extreamly lament what we have lost of theirs. They have no manner of Rusticity, but rather a great deal of Delicacy and Grace, and some Ideas wholly new and pleasing. They are accus'd of being too florid; and I do not deny but that they may be said to be such in some few places; yet I don't know why the Criticks are more inclin'd to excuse Theocritus's Clownishness, than Moschus and Bion's Elegancy; methinks they should have done the contrary. Is it not that Virgil has prejudic'd every one for Theocritus, having done to no other the honour of imitating and copying him? Or is it not rather that the Learned have a taste that uses to nauseate what is Delicate and Genteel? What ever it is, I find that all their Favour is for Theocritus, and that they have resolv'd to dubb him Prince of the Bucolick Poets.
The Moderns have not often been guilty of making their Shepherds thus Clownish. The Author of Astræa, in that Romance, which otherwise is full of admirable things, has rather run into the other extream. Some of his Shepherds are absolutely drawn such as they ought to have been, but some others, if I am not mistaken, might better have been plac'd in Grand Cyrus, or in Cleopatra. These Shepherds often seem to me Courtiers disguis'd in a Pastoral Dress, and ill Mimicks of what they would imitate; sometimes they appear to me most Cavilling Sophisters; for tho' none but Sylvander has studied in the School of the Massilians, there are some others who happen to be as full of Subtility as himself; though I don't comprehend how they cou'd even but understand him, not having like him took their Degrees in the Massilian Schools.
It does not belong to Shepherds to speak of all sorts of Matters, and when a Poet has a mind to raise his Style, he may make use of other Persons. When Virgil desir'd to give a pompous Description of the imaginary Return of the Golden Age, which he promises to the World at the Birth of Pollio's Son, he should not have excited the Pastoral Muses to leave their natural Strain, and raise their Voices to a pitch which they can never reach; his Business was to have left them, and have address'd himself to some others. Yet I do not know after all if it had not have been better to have kept to the Pastoral Muses; for, he might have given a pleasing Description of the good which the Return of Peace was ready to cause in the Country; and this, methinks, had been as acceptable at least as all those incomprehensible Wonders which he borrows of the Cumæan Sibyl, this new Race of Men which is to descend from Heaven, these Grapes which are to grow on Bryars, and these Lambs whose Native Fleece is to be of a Scarlet, or Crimson hue, to save Mankind the trouble of dying the Wool. He might have flatter'd Pollis more agreeably with things that might have seem'd more consistent with probability, though, after all, even these perhaps did not wholly seem inconsistent with it, at least to the Party concern'd; for Praise is seldom thought such by those on whom it is lavish'd.
Shall I dare to say that Calpurnius, an Author much inferiour to Virgil seems to have handled a Subject of the same nature much more to the purpose: Take notice that I only speak of the Design or Fable, and not at all of the Stile. He brings in two Shepherds, who to be skreen'd from the Sun's sultry heat, shelter themselves in a Cave where they find some Verses written with the God Faunus's own hand, which contain a Prophecy about the Happiness which the Roman Empire is to enjoy under the Emperour Carus. According to the Duty of a Pastoral Poet, he dwells sufficiently on the Prosperity and Plenty that relates to the Country, and then proceeds to higher Matters; because, as he makes a God speak, he has a Right to do so; but he brings in nothing like the Sibyl's Prophecies. 'Tis pity that Virgil did not write the Verses of this Piece; neither had there been need to have had them all written by him.
Virgil makes Phœbus say to him at the beginning of his sixth Eclogue, that a Shepherd ought not to sing Kings nor Wars, but to stick to his Flocks, and such Subjects as only require a plain Stile. Without doubt Phœbus's Counsel was very good, but I cannot imagine how Virgil could forget it so much as to fall a singing immediately after, the original of the World, and the framing of the Universe, according to Epicurus's System, which was a great deal worse than to sing Kings and Wars. I must needs own that I cannot in the least tell what to make of this Piece; I do not understand what is the Design, nor what Coherence there is between the several parts of it: For after these Philosophical Notions, we have the Fables of Hylas and Pasiphae, and of Phaeton's Sisters which have no manner of Relation to them, and in the middle of these Fables, which are all borrow'd from very remote times, we have Cornelius Gallus, Virgil's Contemporary, and the Honours which he receives on Paruassus; after which, we presently come to the Fables of Scylla and Philomela. 'Tis honest Silenus that gives all this fine Medly; and, as Virgil tells us, that according to his laudable Custom, he had taken a hearty Carouse the Day before, I am afraid, the Fumes were hardly yet got out of his Head.
Here let me once more take the freedom to own that I like better the design of an Eclogue of this kind, by Nemesianus, an Author who was Calpurnius's Contemporary, and who is not altogether to be despis'd. Some Shepherds, finding Pan asleep, try to play on his Pipe, but as a Mortal can make a God's Pipe yield only a very unpleasing sound. Pan is awak'd by it; and tells them, that if they are for Songs, he'll gratifie them presently. With this be sings to them something of the History of Bacchus, and dwells on the first Vintage that ever was made, of which he gives a Description which seems to me very agreeable; this Design is more regular than that of Virgil's Silenus, and the Verses also are pretty good.
The Moderns have been often guilty of handling high Subjects in their Eclogues. The French Poet Ronsard has given us in his the Praises of Princes and of France, and almost all that looks like Bucolick in them, is his calling Henry II. Henriot, [or Harry.] Charles IX. Carlin, and Queen Catherine de Medicis, Catin, [or Kate.] 'Tis true, he owns that he did not follow the Rules, but it had been better to have done it, and thus have avoided the Ridicule which the disproportion that is between the Subject and the Form of the Work produces. Hence it happens that in his first Eclogue it falls to the Lot of the Shepherdess Margot [or Peg] to sing the Elogy of Turnebus, Budæus, and Vatable, the greatest Men of their Age for Greek and Hebrew, but with whom, certainly Peg ought not to have been acquainted.
Because Shepherds look well in some kinds of Poetry, many Writers prostitute them to every Subject. They are often made to sing the Praises of Kings in the sublimest Stile the Poet can write; and provided he has but talk'd of Oaten Pipes, Meads and Plains, Fern or Grass, Streams or Vallies, he thinks he has written an Eclogue. When Shepherds praise a Hero, they shou'd praise him Shepherd-like, and I do not doubt but that this wou'd be very ingenious and taking, but it wou'd require some Art, and the shortest cut it seems is to make the Shepherds speak the common Dialect of praise, which is very big and softy indeed, but very common and consequently easie enough of Conscience.
Allegorical Eclogues also are not very easie. J. B. Mantuanus, who was a Carmelite Fryar, has one in which two Shepherds dispute, the one representing a Carmelite Fryar, who is of that Party of the Order which they call, The strict Observance, and the other of that which they call the Mitigated. The famous Bembus is their Judge; and 'tis worth observing, that he prudently makes them lay down their Crooks, lest they fall together by the Ears.
Now, though in the main our Mantuan has pretty well kept the Allegory, 'tis too ridiculous to find the Controversie between these two sorts of Carmelitans handled Ecloguewise.
Yet I had rather see a Shepherd represent one of these, than have him act the Epicuræan, and say impious things; 'tis what happens sometimes to some of Mantuanus's Shepherds, though they are very Clownish, and he himself was of a Religious Order. Amyntas, one of them, in an angry fit, which makes him rail against the Laws and Vertue, meerly because he is in Love, says, that Men are great Fools to feed themselves up with a Fancy of being taken up to Heaven after their Death; and he adds, that the most that is like to happen then, is that they may chance to transmigrate into some Birds, and so flutter up and down through the Air. In vain to make this excusable, our Fryar says, that Amyntas had liv'd a long time in Town; and as much in vain Badius his worthy Commentator; for as much a Modern as Mantuanus is, he has one, and as bigotted and hot for his Author as those of the Ancients; in vain, I say, he takes from thence an opportunity to make this rare Reflection, that Love causes us to doubt of matters of Faith: 'Tis certain that these Errours, which ought to be detested by all those who have heard of them, ought not to be known, much less mention'd by Shepherds.
To make amends, sometimes our Mantuan makes his Shepherds mighty Godly. In one of his Eclogues you have a Catalogue of all the Virgin Mary's Holidays; in another an Apparition of the Virgin, who promises a Shepherd, that, when he shall have past his Life on Mount Carmel, she'll take him to a more pleasant place, and will make him dwell in Heaven with the Dryades, and Hamadryades, a sort of new-fashion'd Saints whom we did not yet know in Heaven
Such gross and inexcusable Indecencies may be easily avoided in the Character of Shepherds, but there are some that are not so observable, of which some Writers cannot so easily be freed: 'Tis the making their Shepherds speak too wittily. Sometimes even those of the Marquess de Racan are guilty of this, though they generally use to be very reserv'd in that point. As for the Italian Authors, they are always so full of false and pointed Thoughts, that we must resolve right or wrong to give them leave to indulge themselves in that darling Stile of theirs, as natural to them as their Mother Tongue. They never take the pains to make their Shepherds speak in a Pastoral Stile, but make use of as bold and exaggerated Figures, and are as full of Conceipts in that sort of Poetry, as they are in others.
Father Bouhours in his excellent Treatise of the manner of thinking justly in ingenious Composures, finds fault with Tasso's Sylvia, who seeing the Reflection of her Face in a Fountain, and adorning her self with Flowers, tells them she does not wear them to mend her Beauty, but to lessen them, and disgrace them by being plac'd near her brighter Charms. Our Judicious Critick thinks this Thought too full of Affectation, and not natural enough for a Shepherdess, and none can refuse their assent to this Criticism which is the result of a very delicate Taste: But when that is done, let none give themselves the Trouble of reading Guarini's, Bouarelli's and Marini's Pastoral Poetry with a design to find any thing in them truly Pastoral, for Sylvia's Thought is one of the most unaffected and single things in the World, if compar'd to most of those of which these Authors are full.
And indeed Tasso's Amynta is the best Thing that Italy has produc'd in the Pastoral kind; and has certainly very great Beauties; even the passage of Sylvia, except what we have observ'd in it, is one of the most ingenious and best describ'd Things I ever read, and we ought to own our selves extremely oblig'd to an Italian Author, for not having been more prodigal of Pointed Thoughts.
Monsieur De Segrais, whose Works are the most excellent Pattern we have of Pastoral Poetry, owns himself, that he did not always keep exactly to the Stile which it requires. He says, That he has sometimes been obliged to humour the Genius of this Age, which delights in figures and glittering Things: But this must be said on his behalf, that he only condescended to follow this method after he had sufficiently prov'd that he can when he pleases perfectly hit the true Beauties of Pastoral. After all, none can well tell which is the Taste or Genius of this Age, 'tis not determined either to what is good or bad, but seems wavering sometimes on this and sometimes on that side. So I believe, that, since there is still a hazard to be run what ever side we take, 'twere better to follow the Rules and true Ideas of Things.
Between the usual Clownishness of Theocritus's Shepherds, and the too much Wit of most of our Modern Shepherds, a certain Medium shou'd be kept, but 'tis so far from being easily follow'd in the performance, that 'tis even difficult to denote it. The Shepherds ought to have Wit, and it ought to be fine and genteel too; for they cou'd not please without it, but they ought to have that Wit only in a certain Degree, otherwise they are no more Shepherds: I'll endeavour to determine this Degree, and adventure to give my notion of it.
The Men who have the most Wit, and those who have but an indifferent share of it, do not differ so much in the sense which they have of Things as they do in their manner of expressing it. The Passions, amidst all the Disturbance which they cause, are attended by a kind of Light, which they impart almost equally to all those whom they possess. There is a certain Penetration, certain Ideas, which, without any regard to the difference of the Minds, are always found in Men in whatever concerns and affects them. But these Passions, at the same time that they in a manner inform the Mind of all Men alike, do not enable them to speak equally well. Those whose Mind is more refin'd, more capacious and more improv'd by Study or Conversation do, while they express their Sentiments, and something that hath the air of a Reflection, and that is not inspir'd by the Passion alone; whereas the others speak their Minds more simply, and add, in a manner, nothing that's foreign: Any ordinary Man will easily say; I so Passionately desir'd that my Mistress might be faithful, that I believ'd her such; but it only belongs to a refin'd Wit, as the Duke de la Rochefoucaut to say, My understanding was fool'd by my Will, or, My Reason was cully'd by my Desire; [l' Esprita eté en moy la Dupe du Coeur:] The Sence is the same, the penetration equal, but the Expression is so different, that one would almost think 'tis no more the same thing.
We take no less Pleasure in finding a Sentiment exprest simply, than in a more thought-like and elaborate Manner, provided it be always equally fine: Nay the simple way of expressing it ought to please more, because it occasions a kind of a gentle surprise, and a small admiration. We are amaz'd to find something that is fine and delicate in common and unaffected Terms; and on that account the more the thing is fine, without ceasing to be Natural; and the Expression common, without being low, the deeper we ought to be struck.
Admiration and surprise are so powerful that they can even raise the value of Things beyond their Intrinsick worth. All Paris has lavish'd Exclamations of Admiration on the Siamese Embassadors for their Ingenious sayings; Now had some Spanish or English Embassadors spoken the same Things, no body would have minded it. This happen'd because we wrongfully suppos'd that some Men who came from the remotest Part of the World, of a tawny Complexion, drest otherwise than we are, and till then esteem'd Barbarians by those of Europe, were not to be endow'd with common Sense; and we were very much surpris'd to find they had it; So that the least thing they said fill'd us with admiration, an Admiration which after all was Injurious enough to those Gentlemen.
The same happens of our Shepherds; for, we are the more pleasingly struck with finding them thinking finely in their simple Style, because we the least expected it.
Another Thing that suits with the Pastoral Stile is to run only on Actions, and never almost on Reflections. Those who have a middling share of Wit, or a Wit but little improv'd by a Converse with polite Books or Persons, use to discourse only of those particular Things of which they have had a Sense; while others raising themselves higher, reduce all things into general Ideas: The Minds of the latter have work'd and reflected upon their Sentiments and experiments, it happens that what they have seen hath led them to what they have not seen; whereas those of an inferior Order, not pursuing their Ideas beyond what they have a Sense of, it may happen that what resembles it most may still be new to them. Hence proceeds the insatiable Desire of the Multitude to see the same Objects, and their admiring always almost the same Things.
A Consequence of this Disposition of Mind is the adding to the Things that are related any Circumstances whether useful or not. This happens because the Mind has been extreamly struck with the particular Action, and with all that attended it. Contrary to this a great Genius, despising all these petty Circumstances, fixes on what is most essential in Things, which commonly may be related without the Circumstances.
'Tis truer than it seems, that in such Composures wher in Passion is to be describ'd, 'tis better to imitate the way of speaking used by Men of indifferent Capacity, than the Stile of more refined Wits. I must own that thus there is little related besides Actions and we do not rise to Reflections; but nothing is more graceful than Actions, so display'd as to bring their Reflection along with them. Such is this admirable Touch in Virgil; Galatæa throws an Apple at me, then runs to hide her self behind the Willows, and first would be perceiv'd. The Shepherd does not tell you what is Galatæa's Design, though he is fully sensible of it; but the Action has made a deep pleasing Impression on his Mind, and, according as he represents it, 'tis impossible but you must guess its meaning. Now the Mind is delighted with sensible Ideas, because it easily admits of them, and it loves to penetrate, provided it be without Effort; whether it be that it loves to Act but to a certain Degree, or that a little Penetration indulges its vanity. So the Mind hath the double Pleasure, first of getting an easie Idea, then of penetrating, whenever such Cases as that of Galatæa are laid before it. The Action, and, in a manner, the Soul of the Action all at once strike the Eyes of the Mind; it can see nothing more in the matter, nor more quickly, neither can it ever be put to less expence.
In Virgil's second Eclogue, Corydon, to commend his Pipe, tells us that Damætas gave it him when he died, and said to him, Thou art the second Master it hath had, and Amyntas was jealous, because it was not bequeath'd him: All these Circumstances are altogether Pastoral: It might not perhaps be disagreable to bring in a Shepherd who is puzzled in the midst of his Story, and who finds some difficulty in recovering himself; but this wou'd require some Art in the management.
There are no persons whom it becomes better to lengthen a little their Narrations with Circumstances than Lovers. They ought not indeed to be absolutely needless or too far-fetch'd; for, this would be tedious, though it may be natural enough; but those that have but a half relation to the Action which is talk'd of, and that show more passion than they, are considerable, can never fail to please. So when, in one of Monsieur de Segrais's Eclogues, a Shepherdess says,
The Songs which Lysis and Menalcas sing
Please ev'ry Swain, and make the Vallies ring;
But I like better those which near This Tree,
My Jealous Shepherd lately made for me.
The Circumstance of the Tree is pretty, only as it had been needless for any other but a Lover. According to our Idea of Shepherds, Tales and Narrations become them very well; but for them to make Speeches, such as those in Astræa, full of general Reflections, and Chains of Arguments, is a thing which I do not think their Character allows.
It is not amiss to make them give descriptions, provided they be not very long. That of the Cup which the Goat-herd promises to Thyrsis, in Theocritus's first Idyllium somewhat exceeds the Bounds: Yet, according to that Example, Ronsard, and Belleau his Contemporary, have made some that are yet longer. When their Shepherds are about describing a Basket, a Goat or a Blackbird, which they make the Prize of a Pastoral Combate, they never have done: Not that their Descriptions are sometimes without great Beauties, and are writ without admirable Art; far from this, they have too much of it for Shepherds.
Vida a Latin Poet of the last Age, and of great Reputation, in his Eclogue of Nice, whom I take to be Victoria Colonna, the Marquess of Pescario's Widow, brings in the Shepherd Damon giving a Description of a Rush Basket which he is to make for her. He says, that he will represent in it Davalos, that is the Marquess, dying, and grieved that he does not die in Battle; some Kings, Captains, and Nymphs in Tears about him, Nice praying the Gods in vain, Nice fainting away at the News of Davalos's Death, and with difficulty recovering her Senses by the means of the Water which her Women throw on her Face; and he adds that he would have expressed many Complaints and Moans, if they could be exprest on Rush. Here are a great many Things to be show'd on a Basket! Neither do I relate them all; but I cannot tell how all this can be exprest on Rush, nor how Damon, who owns he cannot express on it the Complaints of Nice, is not at a Loss to display on it the Marquess's Grief for dying in his Bed. I shrewdly suspect that Achilles's Shield is the Original from which this Basket has been imitated.
I find that Virgil has us'd similitudes very often in his Pastoral Discourses: These similitudes are very properly brought in, to supply the place of those trivial Comparisons, and principally of those clownish proverbial sayings, which real Shepherds use almost continually: But as there is nothing more easily to be imitated than this way of using similitudes, 'tis what Virgil hath been most copied in. We find in all your Writers of Eclogues, nothing more common than Shepherdesses who exceed all others as much as lofty Pines e'er top the lowly Reed, or highest Oaks the humblest Shrubs exceed; we see nothing but the cruelty of ungrateful Shepherdesses who are to a Shepherd, What Frosts or Storms are to the tenderest Flowers, like Hale to rip'ning Corn, &c. I think all this old and worn thread-bare at this Time of Day, and to say the Truth on't, 'tis no great Pity. Similitudes naturally are not very proper for Passion, and Shepherds shou'd only use them when they find it difficult to express themselves otherwise; then they wou'd have a very great Beauty, but I know but very few of that kind.
Thus we have pretty near discover'd the Pitch of Wit which Shepherds ought to have, and the Style they should use. 'Tis methinks with Eclogues, as with those Dresses which are worn at Masques or Balls; they are of much finer stuff than those which real Shepherds usually wear; nay they are even adorn'd with Ribbands and Points, and are only made after the Country cut. In the same manner the Thoughts which are the Subject matter of Eclogues, ought to be finer and more delicate than those of real Shepherds; but they must have the most simple and most rural Dress possible.
Not but that we ought to use both simplicity and a Country-like plainness ev'n in the Thoughts, but we ought to take notice that this simplicity and Country-like plainness only exclude your excessive delicacy in the Thoughts, like that of the refin'd Wits in Courts and Cities, and not the Light which Nature and the Passions bestow of themselves; otherwise the Poet wou'd degenerate and run into Childish Talk that wou'd beget Laughter rather than admiration. Something of this kind is pleasant enough in one of Remi Belleau's Eclogues; where a young Shepherd, having stoln a kiss from a pretty Shepherdess, says to her,
I've kist some new fawn'd Kids, like other Swains,
I've kist the sucking Calf, which in our Plains
Young Colin gave me; but this Liss I swear,
Is sweeter much than all those Kisses were.
Yet such a Childishness seems more pardonable in this young Shepherd than in the Cyclops Polyphemus. In Theocritus's Idyllium that bears his Name and which is fine, he is thinking how to be reveng'd on his Mother, a Sea Nymph, because she never took care to make Galatæa, another Sea Nymph, have a kindness for his Giantship; so he says to his Mistress, that He'll tell his Mother, to make her mad, that he has à pain in his Head and in his Thighs.
'Tis hard to imagine that, ugly as he was, his Mother cou'd doat on him so much as to be very much concern'd to hear the poor little Urchin had those petty ills, or that the Clownish Giant cou'd invent so gentle a Revenge, his Character is better kept when he promises his Mistress to make her a present of a Litter of Cubs, or young Bears, which he breeds for her in his Cave. And now that I speak of Bears, I wou'd gladly know why Daphnis when he is going to die bids adieu to the Bears, the Lyons and the Wolves, as well as to the fair Fountain Arethuse, and to the Silver Streams of Sicily: Methinks a Man does not often use to regret the Loss of such Company.
I have but one Remark more to make which hath no manner of Connection with those that go before: 'Tis concerning those Eclogues which have a Burthen much like those in Ballads, that is, a Verse or two repeated several times. I need not say that we ought to place those repeated. Verses in such Parts of the Eclogue as may require, or at least bear such a Verse to interlard them; but it may not be amiss to observe that all the Art that Theocritus hath us'd in an Idyllium of this kind, was only to take this Burthen and scatter it up and down through his Idyllium right or wrong, without the least regard to the Sence of the places where he inserted it, nay without even so much as respecting some of the Phrases which he made no difficulty to split in two.
I have here spoken with a great deal of Freedom of Theocritus and Virgil, notwithstanding they are Ancients; and I do not doubt but that I shall be esteem'd one of the Profane, by those Pedants who profess a kind of Religion which consists in worshipping the Ancients. 'Tis true, however, that I have often commended Virgil and Theocritus; but yet I have not always prais'd them; much less have I said, like the Superstitious, that even their Faults (if they had any) were beautiful; neither have I strain'd all the Natural Light of Reason to justifie them; I have partly approved, and partly censur'd them, as if they had been some living Authors, whom I saw every day; and there lies the Sacrilege!
FINIS.
- ↑ These Lines, and some in the following Pages, are taken out of English Versions.