The Spectator Volume Iii Part 96

'Love is generally accompanied with Good-will in the Young, Interest in the Middle-aged, and a Pa.s.sion too gross to Name in the Old.

'The Endeavours to revive a decaying Pa.s.sion generally extinguish the Remains of it.

'A Woman who from being a Slattern becomes over-neat, or from being over-neat becomes a Slattern, is most certainly in Love.

I shall make use of this Gentleman's Skill as I see Occasion; and since I am got upon the Subject of Love, shall conclude this Paper with a Copy of Verses which were lately sent me by an unknown Hand, as I look upon them to be above the ordinary Run of Sonneteers.

The Author tells me they were written in one of his despairing Fits; and I find entertains some Hope that his Mistress may pity such a Pa.s.sion as he has described, before she knows that she is herself _Corinna_.

'Conceal, fond Man, conceal the mighty Smart, Nor tell_ Corinna _she has fir'd thy Heart.

In vain would'st thou complain, in vain pretend To ask a Pity which she must not lend.

She's too much thy Superior to comply, And too too fair to let thy Pa.s.sion dye.

Languish in Secret, and with dumb Surprize Drink the resistless Glances of her Eyes.

At awful Distance entertain thy Grief, Be still in Pain, but never ask Relief.

Ne'er tempt her Scorn of thy consuming State; Be any way undone, but fly her Hate.

Thou must submit to see thy Charmer bless Some happier Youth that shall admire her less; Who in that lovely Form, that Heavenly Mind, Shall miss ten thousand Beauties thou could'st find; Who with low Fancy shall approach her Charms, While half enjoy'd she sinks into his Arms.

She knows not, must not know, thy n.o.bler Fire, Whom she, and whom the Muses do inspire; Her Image only shall thy Breast employ, And fill thy captiv'd Soul with Shades of joy; Direct thy Dreams by Night, thy Thoughts by Day; And never, never, from thy Bosom stray.' [2]

[Footnote 1: See Nos. 602, 605, 614, 623, and 625.]

[Footnote 2: These verses were by Gilbert Budgell, second brother of Eustace.]

No. 592. Friday, September 10, 1714. Addison.

'--Studium sine divite Vena--'

Hor.

I look upon the Play-house as a World within it self. They have lately furnished the Middle Region of it with a new Sett of Meteors, in order to give the Sublime to many modern Tragedies. I was there last Winter at the first Rehearsal of the new Thunder [1], which is much more deep and sonorous than any hitherto made use of. They have a _Salmoneus_ behind the Scenes, who plays it off with great Success. Their Lightnings are made to flash more briskly than heretofore; their Clouds are also better furbelow'd, and more voluminous; not to mention a violent Storm locked up in a great Chest that is designed for the _Tempest_. They are also provided with above a Dozen Showers of Snow, which, as I am informed, are the Plays of many unsuccessful Poets artificially cut and shreaded for that Use. Mr. _Rimer's Edgar_ is to fall in Snow at the next acting of King _Lear_, in order to heighten, or rather to alleviate, the Distress of that unfortunate Prince; and to serve by way of Decoration to a Piece which that great Critick has written against.

I do not indeed wonder that the Actors should be such professed Enemies to those among our Nation who are commonly known by the Name of Criticks, since it is a Rule among these Gentlemen to fall upon a Play, not because it is ill written, but because it takes. Several of them lay it down as a Maxim, That whatever Dramatick Performance has a long Run, must of Necessity be good for nothing; as though the first Precept in Poetry were _not to please_. Whether this Rule holds good or not, I shall leave to the Determination of those who are better Judges than my self: If it does, I am sure it tends very much to the Honour of those Gentlemen who have established it; few of their Pieces having been disgraced by a Run of three Days, and most of them being so exquisitely written, that the Town would never give them more than one Night's Hearing.

I have a great Esteem for a true Critick, such as _Aristotle_ and _Longinus_ among the _Greeks_, _Horace_ and _Quintilian_ among the _Romans_, _Boileau_ and _Dacier_ among the _French_. But it is our Misfortune, that some who set up for professed Criticks among us are so stupid, that they do not know how to put ten Words together with Elegance or common Propriety, and withal so illiterate, that they have no Taste of the learned Languages, and therefore criticise upon old Authors only at second-hand. They judge of them by what others have written, and not by any Notions they have of the Authors themselves. The Words Unity, Action, Sentiment, and Diction, p.r.o.nounced with an Air of Authority, give them a Figure among unlearned Readers, who are apt to believe they are very deep, because they are unintelligible. The Ancient Criticks are full of the Praises of their Contemporaries; they discover Beauties which escaped the Observation of the Vulgar, and very often find out Reasons for palliating and excusing such little Slips and Oversights as were committed in the Writings of eminent Authors. On the contrary, most of the Smatterers in Criticism who appear among us, make it their Business to vilifie and depreciate every new Production that gains Applause, to descry imaginary Blemishes, and to prove by far-fetch'd Arguments, that what pa.s.s for Beauties in any celebrated Piece are Faults and Errors. In short, the Writings of these Criticks compared with those of the Ancients, are like the Works of the Sophists compared with those of the old Philosophers.

Envy and Cavil are the natural Fruits of Laziness and Ignorance; which was probably the Reason, that in the Heathen Mythology _Momus_ is said to be the Son of _Nox_ and _Somnus_, of Darkness and Sleep. Idle Men, who have not been at the Pains to accomplish or distinguish themselves, are very apt to detract from others; as ignorant Men are very subject to decry those Beauties in a celebrated Work which they have not Eyes to discover. Many of our Sons of _Momus_, who dignify themselves by the Name of Criticks, are the genuine Descendants of these two ill.u.s.trious Ancestors. They are often led into those numerous Absurdities, in which they daily instruct the People, by not considering that, _1st_, There is sometimes a greater Judgment shewn in deviating from the Rules of Art, than in adhering to them; and, _2dly_, That there is more Beauty in the Works of a great Genius who is ignorant of all the Rules of Art, than in the Works of a little Genius, who not only knows, but scrupulously observes them.

First, We may often take Notice of Men who are perfectly acquainted with all the Rules of good Writing, and notwithstanding chuse to depart from them on extraordinary Occasions. I could give Instances out of all the Tragick Writers of Antiquity who have shewn their Judgment in this Particular; and purposely receded from an established Rule of the Drama, when it has made way for a much higher Beauty than the Observation of such a Rule would have been. Those who have surveyed the n.o.blest Pieces of Architecture and Statuary both ancient and modern, know very well that there are frequent Deviations from Art in the Works of the greatest Masters, which have produced a much n.o.bler Effect than a more accurate and exact way of Proceeding could have done. This often arises from what the _Italians_ call the _Gusto Grande_ in these Arts, which is what we call the Sublime in Writing.

In the next Place, our Criticks do not seem sensible that there is more Beauty in the Works of a great Genius who is ignorant of the Rules of Art, than in those of a little Genius who knows and observes them. It is of these Men of Genius that _Terence_ speaks, in Opposition to the little artificial Cavillers of his Time;

'Quorum aemulari exoptat negligentiam Potius, quam istorum obscuram diligentiam.'

A Critick may have the same Consolation in the ill Success of his Play, as Dr. _South_ tells us a Physician has at the Death of a Patient, That he was killed _secundum artem_. Our inimitable _Shakespear_ is a Stumbling-Block to the whole Tribe of these rigid Criticks. Who would not rather read one of his Plays, where there is not a single Rule of the Stage observed, than any Production of a modern Critick, where there is not one of them violated? _Shakespear_ was indeed born with all the Seeds of Poetry, and may be compared to the Stone in _Pyrrhus's_ Ring, which, as _Pliny_ tells us, had the Figure of _Apollo_ and the Nine Muses in the Veins of it, produced by the spontaneous Hand of Nature, without any Help from Art.

[Footnote 1: John Dennis's invention, of which he said with exultation, 'That's my thunder.']

No. 593. Monday, September 13, 1714. Byrom.

'Quale per incertam Lunam sub luce maligna Est iter in Sylvis:--'

Virg.

My dreaming Correspondent, Mr. _Shadow_, has sent me a second Letter, with several curious Observations on Dreams in general, and the Method to render Sleep improving: An Extract of his Letter will not, I presume, be disagreeable to my Readers.

'Since we have so little Time to spare, that none of it may be lost, I see no Reason why we should neglect to examine those imaginary Scenes we are presented with in Sleep, only because they have less Reality in them than our waking Meditations. A Traveller would bring his Judgment in Question who should despise the Directions of his Map for want of real Roads in it, because here stands a _Dott_ instead of a Town, or a _Cypher_ instead of a City, and it must be a long Day's Journey to travel thro' two or three Inches. Fancy in Dreams gives us much such another Landskip of Life as that does of Countries, and tho' its Appearances may seem strangely jumbled together, we may often observe such Traces and Footsteps of n.o.ble Thoughts, as, if carefully pursued, might lead us into a proper Path of Action. There is so much Rapture and Extasie in our fancied Bliss, and something so dismal and shocking in our fancied Misery, that tho' the Inactivity of the Body has given Occasion for calling Sleep the Image of _Death_, the Briskness of the Fancy affords us a strong Intimation of something within us that can never die.

'I have wondered, that _Alexander_ the Great, who came into the World sufficiently dreamt of by his Parents, and had himself a tolerable Knack at dreaming, should often say, that

'Sleep was one thing which made him sensible he was Mortal.'

I who have not such Fields of Action in the Daytime to divert my Attention from this Matter, plainly perceive, that in those Operations of the Mind, while the Body is at rest, there is a certain Vastness of Conception very suitable to the Capacity, and demonstrative of the Force of that Divine Part in our Composition which will last for ever.

Neither do I much doubt but had we a true Account of the Wonders the Hero last mentioned performed in his Sleep, his conquering this little Globe would hardly be worth mentioning. I may affirm, without Vanity, that when I compare several Actions in _Quintus Curtius_ with some others in my own Noctuary, I appear the greater Hero of the two.

I shall close this Subject with observing, that while we are awake we are at Liberty to fix our Thoughts on what we please, but in Sleep we have not the Command of them. The Ideas which strike the Fancy, arise in us without our Choice, either from the Occurrences of the Day past, the Temper we lye down in, or it may be the Direction of some superior Being.