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instance than his. I should think there does not exist a poet who has gone such lengths in imitation as Virgil; for to pass over his pastoral and bucolic poems, which are evidently drawn from Theocritus and Hesiod, with the assistance of Aratus in every thing that relates to the scientific part of the signs and seasons, it is supposed that his whole narrative of the destruction of Troy, with the incident of the wooden horse and the episode of Sinon, are an almost literal translation of Pisander the epic poet, who in his turn perhaps might copy his account from the Ilias Minor (but this last is mere suggestion). As for the Æneid, it does little else but reverse the order of Homer's epic, making Æneas's voyage precede his wars in Italy, whereas the voyage of Ulysses is subsequent to the operations of the Iliad. As Apollo is made hostile to the Greeks, and the cause of his offence is introduced by Homer in the opening of the Iliad, so Juno in the Æneid stands in his place with every circumstance of imitation. It would be an endless task to trace the various instances throughout the Æneid, where scarce a single incident can be found which is not copied from Homer: neither is there greater originality in the executive parts of the poem, than in the constructive; with this difference only, that he has copied passages from various authors, Roman as well as Greek, though from Homer the most. Amongst the Greeks, the dramatic poets Æschylus, Sophocles, and principally Euripides, have had the greatest share of his attention; Aristophanes, Menander, and other comic authors, Callimachus and some of the lyric writers also may be traced in his imitations. A vast collection of passages from Ennius chiefly, from Lucretius, Furius, Lucilius, Pacuvius, Suevius, Nævius, Varius, Catullus, Accius, and others of his own nation, has been made by Macrobius in his Saturnalia, where Virgil has done little else but put their sentiments into more elegant verse; so that in strictness of speaking we may say of the Eneid, "that it is of a miscellaneous compilation of poetical passages, composing all together an epic poem, formed upon the model of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey; abounding in beautiful versification, and justly to be admired for the fine acquired taste of its author, but devoid of originality either of construction or execution." Besides its general inferiority as being a copy from Homer, it particularly falls off from its original in the conception and preservation of character: it does not reach the sublimity and majesty of its model, but it has in a great degree adopted the simplicity, and entirely avoided the rusticity of Homer.

Lucan and Claudian in later ages were perhaps as good versifiers as Virgil, but far inferior to him in that fine acquired taste, in which he excelled: they are ingenious but not simple; and execute better than they contrive. A passage from Claudian, which I shall beg the reader's leave to compare with one from Virgil (where he personifies the evil passions and plagues of mankind, and posts them at the entrance of hell, to which Æneas is descending) will exemplify what I have said: for at the same time that it will bear a dispute, whether Claudian's description is not even superior to Virgil's in poetical merit, yet the judicious manner of introducing it in one case, and the evident want of judgment in the other, will help to show, that the reason why we prefer Virgil to Claudian, is more on account of his superiority of taste than of talents.

Claudian's description stands in the very front of his poem on Ruffinus; Virgil's is woven into his fable, and will be found in the sixth book of his Æneid, as follows:

Vestibulum ante ipsum, primisque in faucibus Orci,
Luctus, et ultrices posuere cubilia curicæ ;
Pallentesque habitant morbi, tristisque senectus,
Et metus, et malesuada Fames, et turpis egestas,
Terribiles visu formæ; Lethumque, laborque;
Tum consanguineus lethi sopor, et mala mentis
Gaudia, mortiferumque adverso in limine bellum,
Ferreique Eumenidum thalami, et Discordia demens
Vipereum crinem vittis innexa cruentis.

VIRGIL.

Just in the gates and in the jaws of Hell
Revengeful cares and sullen sorrows dwell,
And pale diseases, and repining age;
Want, fear, and famine's unresisted rage:
Here toils, and death, and death's half-brother, sleep,
Forms terrible to view, their centry keep:
With anxious pleasures of a guilty mind,
Deep frauds before, and open force behind :
The furies' iron beds, and strife that shakes
Her hissing tresses, and unfolds her snakes.

DRYDEN.

Protinus infernas ad limina tetra sorores
Concilium deforme vocat; glomerantur in unum
Innumeræ pestes Erebi, quascunque sinistro
Nox genuit fætu: nutrix discordia belli;
Imperiosa fames; leto vicina senectus ;
Impatiensque sui morbus; livorque secundis
Anxius, est scisso mærens velamine luctus,
Et timor, et cæco præceps audacia vultu;
Et luxus populator opum ; cui semper adhærens
Infelix humili gressu comitatur egestas;
Fædaque avaritiæ complexæ pecora matris
Insomnes longo veniunt examine curæ.

CLAUDIAN.

The infernal council, at Alecto's call
Convened, assemble in the Stygian hall;
Myriads of ghastly plagues that shun the light,
Daughters of Erebus and gloomy night:
Strife war-compelling; famine's wasting rage;
And death just hovering o'er decrepid age;
Envy, prosperity's repining foe,
Restless disease, and self-dishevel'd woe,

Rashness, and Fear, and Poverty that steals
Close as the shadow at the spendthrift's heels ;
And cares that clinging to the misers breast
Forbid his sordid soul to taste of rest.

The productions of the human genius will borrow their complexion from the times in which they originate. Ben Jonson says, " that the players often mentioned it as an honour to Shakspeare, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been (adds he) Would he had blotted out a thousand! which they thought a malevolent speech. I had not told posterity this but for their ignorance, who chose that circumstance to commend their friend by, wherein he most faulted; and to justify mine own candour, for I loved the man, and do honour his memory on this side idolatry as much as any: he was indeed honest, and of an open and free nature; had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions, wherein he flowed with that facility, that sometime it was necessary he should be stopped; Sufflaminandus erat, as Augustus said of Haterius; his wit was in his own power: would the rule of it had been so too!"

I think there can be no doubt but this kind of indignant negligence with which Shakspeare wrote was greatly owing to the slight consideration he had for his audience. Jonson treated them with the dictorial haughtiness of a pedant: Shakspeare with the carelessness of a gentleman who wrote at his ease, and gave them the first flowings of his fancy without any dread of their correction. These were times in which the poet indulged his genius without restraint; he stood alone and supereminent, and wanted no artificial scaffold to raise him above the heads of his contemporaries; he was natural, lofty, careless, and daringly incorrect. Place the same man in other times, amongst a people polished almost into general equality, and he shall begin to hesitate and retract his sallies; for in this respect poetical are like military excursions, and it makes a wide difference in the movements of a skilful general, whether he is to sally into a country defended by well disciplined troops, or only by an irregular mob of unarmed barbarians. Shakspeare might vault his Pegasus without a rein; mountains might rise and seas roll in vain before him; Nature herself could neither stop nor circumscribe his career. The modern man of verse mounts with the precaution of a riding master, and prances round his little circle full bitted and caparisoned in all the formality of a review. Whilst he is thus pacing and piaffering with every body's eyes upon him, his friends are calling out every now and then-" Seat yourself firm in the saddle! Hold your body straight! Keep your spurs from his sides for fear he sets a kicking! Have a care he does not stumble: there lies a stone, here runs a ditch; keep your whip still, and depend upon your bit, if you have not a mind to break your neck!"-On the other quarter his enemies are bawling out-" How like a taylor that fellow sits on horseback! Look at his feet, look at his arms! Set the curs upon him; tie a cracker to his horse's tail, and make sport for the spectator!"-All this while perhaps the poor devil could have performed passably well, if it were not for the mobbing and hallooing about him: whereas Shakspeare mounts without fear, and starting in the jockey phrase at score, cries out, "Stand clear, ye sons of earth! or, by the beams of my father Apollo, I'll ride over you and trample you into dust!"

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