The Spectator Volume Iii Part 109

Sir _Richard_ to shew his Zeal for the Protestant Religion, is at the Expence of a Tar-Barrel and a Ball. I peeped into the Knight's great Hall, and saw a very pretty Bevy of Spinsters. My dear Relict was amongst them, and ambled in a Country-Dance as notably as the best of 'em.

May all his Majesty's liege Subjects love him as well as his good People of this his ancient Borough. Adieu.

[Footnote 1: (Two in the Morning is the Word, old Boy.)]

No. 617. Monday, November 8, 1714.

'Torva Mimalloneis implerunt cornua bombis, Et raptum vitulo caput ablatura superbo Ba.s.saris, et lyncem Maenas flexura corymbis, Evion ingeminat reparabilis adsonat Echo.'

Persius.

There are two Extreams in the Stile of Humour, one of which consists in the Use of that little pert Phraseology which I took Notice of in my last Paper; the other in the Affectation of strained and pompous Expressions, fetched from the learned Languages. The first savours too much of the Town; the other of the College.

As nothing ill.u.s.trates better than Example, I shall here present my Reader with a Letter of Pedantick Humour, which was written by a young Gentleman of the University to his Friend; on the same Occasion, and from the same Place, as the lively Epistle published in my last _Spectator_.

_Dear Chum_,

'It is now the third Watch of the Night, the greatest Part of which I have spent round a capacious Bowl of _China_, filled with the choicest Products of both the _Indies_. I was placed at a quadrangular Table, diametrically opposite to the Mace-bearer. The Visage of that venerable Herald was, according to Custom, most gloriously illuminated on this joyful occasion. The Mayor and Aldermen, those Pillars of our Const.i.tution, began to totter; and if any one at the Board could have so far articulated, as to have demanded intelligibly a Reinforcement of Liquor, the whole a.s.sembly had been by this time extended under the Table.

'The Celebration of this Night's Solemnity was opened by the Obstreperous Joy of Drummers, who, with their Parchment Thunder, gave a signal for the Appearance of the Mob under their several Cla.s.ses and Denominations. They were quickly joined by the melodious Clank of Marrow-bone and Cleaver, whilst a Chorus of Bells filled up the Consort. A Pyramid of Stack-f.a.ggots cheared the Hearts of the Populace with the Promise of a Blaze: The Guns had no sooner uttered the Prologue, but the Heavens were brightned with artificial Meteors, and Stars of our own making; and all the _High-street_ lighted up from one End to another, with a Galaxy of Candles. We collected a Largess for the Mult.i.tude, who tippled Eleemosynary till they grew exceeding Vociferous. There was a Paste-board Pontiff with a little swarthy Daemon at his Elbow, who, by his diabolical Whispers and Insinuations tempted his Holiness into the Fire, and then left him to shift for himself. The Mobile were very sarcastick with their Clubs, and gave the old Gentleman several Thumps upon his triple Head-piece. _Tom Tyler's_ Phiz is something damaged by the Fall of a Rocket, which hath almost spoiled the Gnomon of his Countenance. The Mirth of the Commons grew so very outragious, that it found Work for our Friend of the _Quorum_, who, by the help of his _Amanuensis_, took down all their Names and their Crimes, with a Design to produce his Ma.n.u.script at the next Quarter-Sessions, _&c. &c. &c_.

'I shall subjoin to the foregoing Piece of a Letter, the following Copy of Verses translated from an Italian Poet, who was the _Cleveland_ of his Age, and had Mult.i.tudes of Admirers. The Subject is an Accident that happened under the Reign of Pope _Leo_, when a Firework, that had been prepared upon the Castle of St. _Angelo_, begun to play before its Time, being kindled by a Flash of Lightning.

The Author hath written his Poem [1] in the same kind of Style, as that I have already exemplified in Prose. Every Line in it is a Riddle, and the Reader must be forced to consider it twice or thrice, before he will know that the _Cynick's_ Tenement is a _Tub_, and _Bacchus_ his Cast-coat a _Hogs-head_, &c.

' 'Twas Night, and Heav'n, a_ Cyclops, _all the Day, An Argus now did countless Eyes display; In ev'ry Window_ Rome _her Joy declares, All bright, and studded with terrestrial Stars.

A blazing Chain of Lights her Roofs entwines.

And round her Neck the mingled l.u.s.tre shines, The_ Cynick's _rowling Tenement conspires, With_ Bacchus _his Cast-coat, to feed the Fires.

The Pile, still big with undiscover'd Shows, The_ Tuscan _Pile did last its Freight disclose, Where the proud Tops of_ Rome's _new_ aetna _rise, Whence Giants sally, and invade the Skies.

Whilst now the Mult.i.tude expect the Time, And their tir'd Eyes the lofty Mountain climb, A thousand Iron Mouths their Voices try, And thunder out a dreadful Harmony; In treble Notes the small Artill'ry plays, The deep-mouth'd Cannon bellows in the Ba.s.s.

The lab'ring Pile now heaves; and having giv'n Proofs of its Travail sighs in Flames to Heav'n.

The Clouds invelop'd Heav'n from Human Sight, Quench'd every Star, and put out ev'ry Light; Now Real Thunder grumbles in the Skies, And in disdainful Murmurs_ Rome _defies; Nor doth its answer'd Challenge_ Rome _decline; But whilst both Parties in full Consort join, While Heav'n and Earth in Rival Peals resound, The doubtful Cracks the Hearer's Sense confound; Whether the Claps of Thunderbolts they hear, Or else the Burst of Canon wounds their Ear; Whether Clouds raged by struggling Metals rent, Or struggling Clouds in_ Roman _Metals pent.

But O, my Muse, the whole Adventure tell, As ev'ry Accident in order fell.

Tall Groves of Trees the_ Hadrian _Tow'r surround, Fict.i.tious Trees with Paper Garlands crown'd, These know no Spring, but when their Bodies sprout In Fire, and shoot their gilded Blossoms out; When blazing Leaves appear above their Head, And into branching Flames their Bodies spread.

Whilst real Thunder splits the Firmament, And Heav'n's whole Roof in one vast Cleft is rent, The three-fork'd Tongue amidst the Rupture lolls, Then drops and on the Airy Turret falls.

The Trees now kindle, and the Garland burns, And thousand Thunderbolts for one returns.

Brigades of burning Archers upward fly, Bright Spears and shining Spear-men mount on high, Flash in the Clouds, and glitter in the Sky.

A Seven-fold Shield of Spheres doth Heav'n defend, And back again the blunted Weapons send; Unwillingly they fall, and dropping down, Pour out their Souls, their sulph'rous Souls, and groan.

With Joy, great Sir, we viewed this pompous Show, While Heaven, that sate Spectator still 'till now, It self turn'd Actor, proud to Pleasure you.

And so 'tis fit, when_ Leo's _fires appear, That Heav'n it self should turn an Engineer; That Heav'n it self should all its Wonders show, And Orbs above consent with Orbs below.'

[Footnote 1: Translated from the Latin in Strada's Prolusions.]

No. 618. Wednesday, November 10, 1714.

'--Neque enim concludere versum Dixeris esse satis: neque siquis scribat, uti nos, Sermoni propiora, putes hunc esse Poetam.'

Hor.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

You having, in your two last _Spectators_, given the Town a couple of Remarkable Letters, in very different Styles: I take this Opportunity to offer to you some Remarks upon the _Epistolary_ way of writing in Verse. This is a _Species_ of Poetry by it self; and has not so much as been hinted at in any of the Arts of Poetry, that have ever fallen into my Hands: Neither has it in any Age, or any Nation, been so much cultivated, as the other several Kinds of Poesie. A Man of _Genius_ may, if he pleases, write Letters in Verse upon all manner of Subjects, that are capable of being embellished with Wit and Language, and may render them new and agreeable by giving the proper Turn to them. But in speaking, at present, of _Epistolary Poetry_, I would be understood to mean only such Writings in this Kind, as have been in Use amongst the Ancients, and have been copied from them by some Moderns. These may be reduced into two _Cla.s.ses_: In the one I shall range Love-Letters, Letters of Friendship, and Letters upon mournful Occasions: In the other I shall place such Epistles in Verse, as may properly be called Familiar, Critical, and Moral; to which may be added Letters of Mirth and Humour. _Ovid_ for the first, and _Horace_ for the Latter, are the best Originals we have left.

'He that is ambitious of succeeding in the _Ovidian_ way, should first examine his Heart well, and feel whether his Pa.s.sions (especially those of the gentler Kind) play easie, since it is not his Wit, but the Delicacy and Tenderness of his Sentiments, that will affect his Readers. His Versification likewise should be soft, and all his Numbers flowing and querulous.

'The Qualifications requisite for writing Epistles, after the Model given us by _Horace_, are of a quite different Nature. He that would excel in this kind must have a good Fund of strong Masculine Sense: To this there must be joined a thorough Knowledge of Mankind, together with an Insight into the Business, and the prevailing Humours of the Age. Our Author must have his Mind well seasoned with the finest Precepts of Morality, and be filled with nice Reflections upon the bright and the dark sides of human Life: He must be a Master of refined Raillery, and understand the Delicacies, as well as the Absurdities of Conversation. He must have a lively Turn of Wit, with an easie and concise manner of Expression; Every thing he says, must be in a free and disengaged manner. He must be guilty of nothing that betrays the Air of a Recluse, but appear a Man of the World throughout. His Ill.u.s.trations, his Comparisons, and the greatest part of his Images must be drawn from common Life. Strokes of Satyr and Criticism, as well as Panegyrick, judiciously thrown in (and as it were by the by) give a wonderful Life and Ornament to Compositions of this kind. But let our Poet, while he writes Epistles, though never so familiar, still remember that he writes in Verse, and must for that reason have a more than ordinary care not to fall into Prose, and a vulgar Diction, excepting where the Nature and Humour of the Thing does necessarily require it. In this Point _Horace_ hath been thought by some Criticks to be sometimes careless, as well as too negligent of his Versification; of which he seems to have been sensible himself.

'All I have to add is, that both these Manners of Writing may be made as entertaining, in their Way, as any other Species of Poetry, if undertaken by Persons duly qualify'd; and the latter sort may be managed so as to become in a peculiar manner Instructive. _I am, &ct_.'

I shall add an Observation or two to the Remarks of my ingenious Correspondent, and, in the First place, take Notice, that Subjects of the most sublime Nature are often treated in the Epistolary way with Advantage, as in the famous Epistle of _Horace_ to _Augustus_. The Poet surprizes us with his Pomp, and seems rather betrayed into his Subject, than to have aimed at it by Design: He appears like the Visit of a King _Incognito_, with a mixture of Familiarity, and Grandeur. In Works of this kind, when the Dignity of the Subject hurries the Poet into Descriptions and Sentiments, seemingly unpremeditated, by a sort of Inspiration; it is usual for him to recollect himself, and fall back gracefully into the natural Stile of a Letter.