Chapter 1

CHAP. I.

_Of the Pastoral CHARACTERS or MANNERS, in general_.

I should but tire the Reader, if I endeavour'd to prove that Pastoral does require the Manners, or Characters to be preserved. If our Method of ordering Pastoral be admitted, the Necessity thereof will be easily perceived. But If any one prefer's the ordinary Method, I must tell him, that 'tis not proper to draw Characters in a Piece of an hundred Lines.

It is to be observ'd, that tho' a Fable and Moral are essential to every Poem; yet a Poem may subsist without the Manners. In Epick Poetry the Machinery, the sublime Descriptions, &c. are such strong and Poetical Ornaments, that a very fine Piece of the Heroick kind, might be form'd without the Ornament of Characters. But Pastoral is in it self, (if I may so speak) less Poetical; and therefore more want's the additional Ornaments of Art. 'Tis naturally low and mean, and therefore should be as much rais'd as possible. Whereas Epick-Poetry is of a Nature so warm and heated, that it's own proper Strength and Violence is able to support it. If this could want a Proof, I might say in short, That we can bear with Epick-Poetry, even without any kind of Verse, and _Cambray_ has succeeded in such; but every one will judge that should a Pastoral appear in Prose, nay even without the Feminine Ornament of Jangle, 'twould not be born with; which show's that Epick Poetry can support it self with fewer foreign Assistances than Pastoral.

Another Observation I shall make, relating to the Manners or Characters in general, is this; and 'tis equally applicable to Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and Pastoral: There are three different ways of drawing Characters; which in Tragedy form the Poem, as 'twere, of three different Kinds or Natures.

The first, and finest is, where the Natural Temper of the Hero's Mind is drawn in the former Part of the Poem, but after the Peripatie alter's. As Timon of Athens is drawn at first all free and well-natur'd to a Fault; but after his change of Fortune, is described as a quite different Man; morose, and in hatred with himself and all the World. And so in other Tragedies.

The second Sort is, where the Temper of Mind is the same in the former and latter Part of the Play; but all along forced from it's Natural Bent. Every where inclin'd and leaning to a different Temper; yet is no where wholly carry'd off, or alter'd, as in _Venice-Preserv'd_; _Jaffeir's_ Temper is generous, faithful, and tender, but thro' Want and Enticement being drawn into a Conspiracy, this Temper is half effac'd in him: But the Strugglings which the Poet has so fine an Opportunity of describing, between his present Actions and his natural Temper, are carry'd thro' the whole Piece; and he condemn's himself the same for ungenerously betraying his Friend at the End, as for entring into the Conspiracy against his Country, at the beginning of the Play.

The last kind of Character is, where the Natural Temper of the Mind is neither drawn in the latter Part of the Poem; nor retain'd thro' the whole, but clouded and broken; but instead thereof some casual and accidental Humour, which from some Misfortune, or the like, has quite changed the Natural Temper before the Person appear's on the Stage, or in the Poem. As in the Distress'd-Mother, the Character that give's name to the Tragedy, is all along in Tears and Grief for _Hector_; and what her Temper was before his Death, does not appear, that is, what her Natural Temper was.

I need not detain you to apply what I have here observ'd to Pastoral in particular; 'tis enough to affirm, that the Method which appears most beautiful in Tragedy, will be equally finest in Pastoral Poetry.

CHAP. II.

_What Condition of Life our Shepherds should be supposed in. And whether the_ Golden-Age, _or the present state of the Country should be drawn_.

There are three different Methods, (as we hinted in the first Chap. of the first Book) of describing the Country. For it may be drawn, as 'tis suppos'd to have been in the Golden-Age; or, as 'tis now, but only the pleasant and delightful Images extracted, and touch'd upon; or, lastly, we may draw the Country in it's true and genuine Colours, the Deformities as well as the Beauties having admittance into our Poem.

This last sort run's upon the Labours and fatigues of the Rusticks; and gives us direct Clowns and Country-Folk. We alway see 'em sweating with a Sicle in their Hands; beating their Cows from the Corn; or else at Scolding. Yet doubtless a kind of Pastorals of this Nature might be made extreamly delightful, if the Writer would dare to write himself, and not be lead so much by _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_.

But a Method preferable to this, I think, is a Description of the Golden-Age; and there is very little difference between this, and that which we hold the best. It draw's the Swains, all Innocent and tender. Show's us Shepherds, who are so, not for their Poverty, but their Pleasure; or the Custom of those unrefin'd Ages, when the Sons and Daughters of Kings were of that Employ, as we read in the Scripture of the Ladies of greatest Quality, drawing Water for their Flocks, and the like. I am therefore nothing averse to this kind of Pastoral. It draw's such a Life as we could easily wish our selves in; and such, and only such, can bear a pleasurable Description.

But all the Opportunities that the supposition of the Golden-Age gives the Reader of the Beautiful in his Descriptions, and being Entertaining in his Characters; In short, all the delightful Scenes, Arborets and Shades, as well as all the gentleness and simplicity of that Age, may be drawn into the other, namely the middle state, which we prefer; if the Characters be proper.

Besides, I should not be fond of describing the Golden-Age, because we are not so much interested and concern'd in what was only some thousand Years ago, and ne're will be again. If the Poet possesses us with agreeable Sentiments of our own Country (by describing it, but omitting all that is not delightful in it) we are doubly pleas'd with the Consideration that it may be in our own Power to enjoy the sweet Amusement: and we are apt to fancy while we are reading, that were we among those Swains, we could solace our selves in their easy Retirements, and on their tender Banks in the same manner that they do.

And since Poetry, the more naturally it deceives, the more fully it pleases; I should be very desirous, methinks, of giving my Pieces as great an Appearance of Probability, as possible. And in our way, the Poet may, to add yet more to the Probability, mention several Places in the Country, which actually are to be found there; and will have several Opportunities of giving his Stories an Air of Truth.

SECT. 2.

_The Method of_ Theocritus, _and all his followers, shown to be inferiour, from the Nature of the Human Mind_.

But further, to shew that we should not describe the Country in it's Fatigues, it's Roughness, or it's Meanest, take these Few Considerations. For, as no Writer whom I have read (but that excellent Frenchman _FONTENEL_,) has raised his Shepherds and Shepherdesses above the vulgar and common sort of Neat-herds and Ploughers, I am oblig'd to dwell a little the longer on this Head.

It may be observ'd, I think, that there are but two States of Life which are particularly pleasant to the Mind of Man; the busy, great, or pompous; and the retir'd, soft, or easy. More are delighted with the former than with the latter kind, which affoard's a calm Pleasure, that does not strike so sensibly, but proceeds much from the Imagination. Perhaps this may be the reason why Epick and Tragick Poetry are more universally pleasing than Pastoral; for they describe the Actions of such Persons, as most Men are dazled and enamour'd with; and would willingly quit their own Stations in Life for.

But tho' this State of Life may perhaps be more generally engaging than the soft and retir'd; 'tis certain the soft is the next eligible, and consequently will shine the most next in Poetry. As no one would much desire to be one of Theocritus's Shepherds, so 'tis plain, no one can be much delighted with being concern'd, as 'twere, with such; of having their Actions take up our Minds, and their Manner of Life set before us.

As a love of Grandeur, Show and Pageantry is implanted naturally in our Minds, so we cannot be pleas'd with any thing that is mean, low and beggarly; and as we dislike what is mean and beggarly, How can we love to have our Minds conversant about, direct Ploughmen, _&c_? We love the Country for it's soft Retirements, it's Silence, and it's Shades, and can we love a Description of it that sets none of these before us? If I read a Pastoral, I would have it give me such a Prospect of the Country, and stop me upon those Objects, where I should myself stay, were I there; but would not that be (at least generally) upon the most beautiful Images. If the Toils of the Country-Folk took my Observance, 'twould only be for Variety, because those Images which a Poet can so plentifully raise out of his own Brain, can hardly be met with in Reality. But methinks were I determin'd to describe the Labours and Hardships of the Country, and not to collect the Beauties; I would e'en observe the Manner of the Fellows and Wenches in the Country, and put down every thing that I observ'd them act; as Mr. Gay has very well done; and than we shall have at least this Pleasure, of seeing how exactly the Copy and the Original agree; which is the same that we receive from such a Picture as show's us the face of a Man we know.

Again, 'tis natural to the Mind of Man to delight in the Happiness of it's Fellow-Creatures; and no Pleasure can be imbibed from the Prospect of another's Misery; unless it is so calculated as to excite Pity. The Pleasure, that comes the nearest such of any, is a Comick one, which delight's to see the human Form distorted and debased, and turn'd into that of a Beast.

And as for Pity, the most delightful Passion of all, it can't be excited by this Means. For those Swains are inured to Labour, and acquainted with Fatigue; but we pity those who fall from Greatness to a State of Hardships.

CHAP. III.

_What Personages are most proper for Pastoral. And what Passions we may allot our Shepherds; and what degree of Knowledge_.

Since Simplicity and Tenderness are universally allow'd to constitute the very Soul and Essence of Pastoral, there la nothing scarce in the Proceedings of Pastoral-Writers more surprizing to me, than that no one has allotted any Part of Characters in their Pieces to the _SOFT-SEX_: But have, to a Writer, introduc'd only Men, and even the roughest of that Sex.

I can no otherways account for that their Conduct, but that _Theocritus_ happen'd not to make any true Female Characters, nor to introduce any such of the Fair-Sex, as would shine in Pastoral, and they pretend to nothing farther than the Copying after him.

This is the more strange, since even Epick-Poetry and Tragedy, whose Nature is Violence and Warmth, cannot well subsist without the tender Characters. 'Tis they that sprinkle so sweet a Variety thro' those Pieces, and relax the Minds of the Readers, with the Beautiful and Soft, after it is sated with the Sublime.

Now if even the warmest Kinds of Poetry delight in Female Personages, How much more Pastoral, which is all Tenderness and Simplicity? Whose design is to sooth and spread a Calm over the Mind, as the higher Poems are to elevate and strike It.

But 'tis not enough that we introduce some Characters drawn from the _SOFT-SEX_: our Male Characters must be also of the same Nature, far from rough or unmanner'd. Every Character must also be of such a Kind as will be entertaining to the Mind. For there are some more, some less delightful, among those Female _Characters_, which at first sight seem equally proper to Pastoral. Of this kind is a Prudish _Character_, or excessively reserv'd. For, besides that frankness and Openness of Heart, is what we imagine natural to Shepherds, a Poet can never raise Delight from such a Character. Her fault is too hateful to excite Pity in her Punishment; and too small to raise Joy in beholding bar Unfortunate. Besides that such a Joy were not proper for Pastoral. Of the same Nature is a Finical, or Squeamish Character, and many others, at first sight agreeable to Pastoral.

SECT. 2

_What Passions we may allot our Shepherds_.

Although I am for raising the Characters in Pastoral somewhat above the degree of Boors and Clowns; yet no one is more for retaining the Pastoral Simplicity. Our Characters of young and tender Innocents, give, I think, a better Opportunity of introducing the true Pastoral Simplicity, than those very mean and low Personages, which rather lead us to an unmanner'd Clownishness, than an agreeable Simplicity.

To preserve this Simplicity, we must avoid attributing to our Swains, any of those Passions or Desires, which engage busy and active part of Mankind; as Ambition, and the like. _Theocritus_ therefore, and _Virgil_, and the generality of his Followers, have rather made their Shepherds sing alternately for a Leathern Pouch, or a Goat, than for the Desire of Praise. And nothing, I believe, but his being unwilling to make his Swains sing for exactly the same Reward, that all since _Theocritus_, have done, could have made our excellent Phillips alter the Pouch and the Kid, for Praise, in his sixth Pastoral.

_Let others meanly stake upon their Skill. Or Kid, or Lamb, or Goat, or what they will; for praise we sing, nor Wager ought beside; And, whose the Praise, let_ Geron's, _Lips decide_.

There are few of even the most violent passions but may be introduc'd into Pastoral, if artfully manag'd and qualify'd by the Poet: As Hatred, if it be not carried to it's height; which is an Excess in Pastoral. And I observe, _Cubbin_, you make your Shepherd _Colly_, inconstant; and have an Aversion to his former Sweet-heart _Soflin_, on account of her Frankness, and too great Forwardness. But yet I think it is not faulty, because you make his Affections vary, against his Inclination, and he is angry with himself for his dislike to _Soflin_; but no Reason can stop unruly Love.

So Revenge, if admitted, must be very ingeniously manag'd, or 'twill be intolerable. There is a cunning Thought in _Tasso_, that may perhaps let the Reader something into the Manner in which I would have it order'd. A Female Warriour, opposed to her Lover in Aims, for his Inconstancy shoot's a Dart at him, yet wishes it may not strike him.

But what comes nigher to the explaining the manner of introducing Revenge into Pastoral, is what we find in the sixth Idyll of _Theocritus_. _Polyphemus's_ Mistress had been unkind; and how do's he propose to take Revenge: Why, he will not take notice of her as she walk's before his Cave to be seen, and pelt's his flock. After which follow's the most simple, and I had almost said, finest Thought in any Pastoral-Writer. The whole Beauty of which no one will conceive, but who has a Soul as tender as _Theocritus_ had, and could touch the _Soft_ as well. Poliphemus threaten's several Punishments, after which, follows this. 'Tis as fine in _Creech's_ Version as the Original.

_Besides, my Dog, he is at my Command, Shall bark at her, and gently bite her Hand_.

What I have said of this, might be said of the other Passions; but I shall insist no longer on this Head. As for the Passions most proper for Pastoral, they are discuss'd elsewhere.

SECT. 3.

_What degree of Knowledge we may attribute to our Swains_.

The difference between the Knowledge of our Shepherds, and that of politer Persons, must not proceed in the least from any difference in their Natural Endowments, but entirely from the manner of their Educations. The Poet therefore, has nothing to do in this Case, but to consider what is most probable for Nature to effect, unassisted by Art.

As for a Shepherd's knowing what the ancient Poets have deliver'd, concerning the different Ages, and other things, I shall not determine whether 'tis natural or not: because not only _Theocritus_, whose Shepherds are as well vers'd in History as other Men, and _Virgil_, whose Shepherds are often Philosophers, have gone in this way, but our Countryman Mr. Phillips also, whose excellency is his Correctness.

(Lang.) _Thrice happy Shepherds now! for_ Dorset _loves The Country Muse, and our delightful Groves. While_ Anna _reigns. O ever may she reign!_ And bring on Earth a Golden-Age again. _Pastor_. 6. I shall leave the Reader also to determine concerning the following piece of Knowledge.

(Hob.) _Full fain, O blest_ Eliza! _would I praise Thy Maiden Rule, and Albion's Golden Days_. Then gentle _Sidney_ liv'd, the Shepherds Friend: _Eternal Blessings on his Shade descend!_

The same is to be said of other the like Passages, but the most ordinary Capacity may judge what Knowledge is, or is not, consistent with the Banner of a Shepherd's Education.

CHAP. IV.

_How to form the Pastoral Characters, and the great Difficulty of doing it_.

A Poet, who would write up to the Perfection of Pastoral, will find nothing more difficult (unless the Dialect) than the inventing a sufficient Number of Pastoral Characters; such as are both faultless and beautiful. That difficulty proceeds from hence.

In Epick and Tragick Poetry we have the whole scope of all Men's Tempers and Passions to draw; which are widely various and different: As, the Savage and Wild; the Ambitious; the Simple and Tender-hearted; the Subtle, &c. Thus in the Epick and Tragick Poems, you draw the general Qualities of all Men's Minds. But in Pastoral, you are pinn'd down to one of these common qualities (which is Simplicity and Tenderness.) And laying that as a Foundation, from thence draw your particular Characters. In every Character still supposing that at the bottom of it, and to accompany it. But Rules of this Nature, are like Mathematical Assertions, not easily explain'd, but by Examples. Tho' I think, _Cubbin_, I need not insist long on this to you; for your Characters are not much faulty in this particular. If I remember aright; some of your Characters are these:

Paplet has Simplicity and Tenderness: But her distinguishing Character is, that she is a May, so young, as to be entirely ignorant of Love; but extreamly Curious to be let into the Nature of Men and Lovers.

Collikin has Simplicity and Tenderness: But withal a Tincture of Inconstancy in his Nature.

Soflin, with her Simplicity and Tenderness, is excessive Easy, and Complying, to a Fault; open and too free-hearted.

Florey has Simplicity; and Tenderness for his Lass; but he is almost out of Humour with himself for being so soft. He is suppos'd to be brought up in the lonely Cave with Paplet; and his natural Tamper is wild and excessive brisk; hating the House, and delighting in Hunting. But you show, I see, only a Glimpse of his Natural Temper, which breaks out at times; but he is drawn as tender, being all the Time in Love with Poppit.

The rest of your Characters have the same Foundation; nor break in, I think, upon Simplicity and Tenderness.

'Tis true indeed, as to the Difficulty of forming Pastoral Characters, beyond those of Epick Poetry; That even there, one general Character should diffuse it self thro' all the rest, and that is Bravery. (For _Homer_ might, I think, as well have brought in a Baboon, or a Hedge-hog, for Heroick Characters, as a _Vulcan_ and a _Thirsites_.) But Bravery will coincide with greatly more Tempers than Pastoral Simplicity and Tenderness; nor does it lay the Poet under a Restraint comparably so great.

'Tis farther observable, as to the Difficulty of forming the Pastoral Characters, that if we wou'd write up to the Perfection of Pastoral, 'tis necessary that whatever habit or temper of Mind distinguishes any CHARACTER in the first Pastoral, wherever that CHARACTER afterwards appears, thro' the whole set of Pastorals, it must appear with the same Temper as before; that is, 'tis not enough to have the Characters uniform and just thro' one and the same Pastoral, but what is the Character of any Swain or Lass in the first and second Pastoral, that must be their Character in all the rest, if they are nam'd or introduc'd, tho' never so slightly. For by this means, not only every single Pastoral will make a regular Piece, but the whole set of Pastorals also constitute together one uniform and ample Poem; if the Reader delights to fill his Mind with a large and ample Scheme.

The set of Pastorals would be still more perfect, if the Characters were also all continued on from the first to the last Pastoral, and none drop'd, as 'twere, in silence; but in the Pastorals which draw towards the End, the Characters should be all disposed of in Pastoral, and after an entertaining Manner; so that the two or three last Pastorals will be like the fifth Act in a Tragedy, where the Catastrophe is drawn up. The reasonableness of this appear's from hence. I suppose the Poet to form his Story so, and so to draw his Characters, that the Reader's Mind may be engag'd and concern'd for the Personages. Now the Mind is uneasy if 'tis not let into the issue of the Affairs of the Person it has been long Intent upon, and given to know whether he is finally Unfortunate, or Happy.

SECT. _Last_.

Thus far proceeded Sophy, when Night drew on. He shut his Book; and Cubbin told him, he had not pass'd many days with so much Delight as that. If you have found my Discourse, said Sophy, entertaining, do not fail of being here again early to morrow Morning, and I will continue it to you. The Shepherd express'd his Satisfaction, and they hasted home together.

The following Morn was fair and inviting; they both appear'd when the Lark began his Mattin Song; and Sophy thus proceeded.

_The End of the Second Part_.

P A R T III.

CHAP. I.

_Of the Sentiments in general_.

I must crave leave to extend the Signification of the Word Sentiment, to the including tooth IMAGE and THOUGHT. For I think the Criticks should by all means have, before now, made that Division, and the omission has occasion'd the greatest Obscurity and Confusion in the Writings of those who have discours'd on any particular Kind of Sentiment. But that the Reader may take the more Care to keep this Distinction in his Head, we will give one Instance of the Confusion it occasion'd in the Mind of _Longinus_, who treated the Sublime, and certainly ought to have had a clear Notion of the Subject he wrote so largely, and so floridly upon.

Now in his sixth _Section_, he make's it a Question, and discourses largely, whether Passion can go along with a Sublime SENTIMENT. But any one who has divided Sentiment into Image and Thought would laugh at this Question; it being so plain that passion is consistent with a Sublime Thought, and is not with a Sublime Image.

Would not any person who desired to acquire a true and thorough Notion of a sublime Sentiment, so as to know one, wherever met, be puzzled at _Longinus_'s telling him, _Homer_'s Sentiment is sublime, where he make's the _Giant_'s heap Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa Wood-top'd Pelion; and a little after telling him that _Alexander_'s to _Parmeno_ is a sublime Sentiment. _Parmeno_ say's, _Were I Alexander, I would embrace these Proposals of Peace_. _Alexander_ reply'd, _And I, by the Gods, were I Parmeno_. These Sentiments of _Homer_ and _Alexander_ (tho' equally sublime) are as different as a Bright and a Tender Sentiment. If then I have settled one in my Mind, as sublime, How shall I conceive the other as such?

But there is no other way of avoiding this Confusion, and of being equally certain of all sublime Sentiments, but by knowing that the first of these is a sublime Image, and the last a sublime Thought or Sentiment. And you will find, if you consider the Nature of _Homer_'s Image, all sublime Images are like it; and the same of _Alexander_'s sublime Thought. Altho' the sublime Sentiments in general are so different.

But since we are accidentally engag'd in considering the Sublime; I will endeavour to show you how to judge infallibly of a Sublime SENTIMENT. For I think it cannot be gotten from _Longinus_; or at least, I could never learn it from that most Florid and Ingenious author. And it may be shown in three Lines, as well as in so many Volumes.

A Sublime Image always dilate's and widen's the Mind, and put's it upon the Stretch. It comprehends somewhat almost too big for it's Reach; and where the Mind is most stretch'd, the Image is most Sublime; if we consider no foreign Assistances. As _Homer_ say's, _The Horses of the Gods, sprung as far at every Stride, as a Man can see who sit's upon the Sea-shore_. But foreign Assistances, as a figurative Turn, &c. may raise a passage to an equal degree of Sublimity, which yet does not so largely dilate the Mind; as this of _Shakespear_'s is more Sublime than that of _Homer_'s.

--_Heaven_'s Cherubs, _hors'd Upon the sightless_ Curriers _of the Air, Shall blow the horrid Deed in every Eye_.

_Macbeth_. Act. 1. Scen. 7

The not having a perfect Idea of the Sentiment, make's us conceive something the greater of it.

A Sublime Thought always gives us a greater and more noble Conception of either the Person speaking; the Person spoken of; or, the Thing spoken of. I need not instance; but if you apply this to any of the Thoughts of _Homer_, or _Shakespear_, generally call'd Sublime, you'll find it will always square.

Here let me make one Observation: That you may never be mistaken in judging of a Sublime Passage, _Cubbin_, take notice; that there are some Thoughts so much imaged in the Turn that is given to 'em, by the figurative Expression, that they lose the name of Thoughts, and commence Images. I will mention one out of _Shakespear_, (who uses this Method the most of any Author, and 'tis almost the only thing that raises his Language) I will mention it, because, being in it self a low and common Sentiment, he has made it the most Sublime, I think, of any he has. _Macbeth_'s Lady say's, before the Murther of the King.

--_Come, thick Night. And pall thee in the dunnest Smoak of Hell, That my keen Knife see not the Wound it makes Nor Heav'n peep thro' the Blanket of the Dark, To cry, Hold! Hold!_

_Macbeth_ Act. 1. Scen. 5.

But I run the Digression too far.

CHAP. II.

_Of the Images. And which are proper for Pastoral, which not_.

Let us proceed to consider what Images will shine most in PASTORAL. And here I shall not consider all kinds of Images, both good and vicious, but only those which are in their own nature good; and among those show which may, and which may not, be introduc'd into Pastoral.

Of Images, in their own Nature good, only the BEAUTIFUL, and the [A]GLOOMY are, properly speaking, fit for Pastoral. The Uncommon, the Terrible, and the Sublime, being improper.

[Footnote A: _The Division of the Images and Thoughts is made, and the nature of the_ GLOOMY _consider'd, in the Critical Preface to the Second Part of our Pastorals_.]

If any other kinds of Images are introduced, they must be artfully qualify'd, or else be faulty; the Methods to be used in so qualifying them, are too numerous to recount. But give me leave to put down one, which relates to the Language.

Suppose you was to describe some LOVELADS and LASSES roving a little by the Sea-shore in a guilded Boat; when, on a sudden, the Wind arises, drives 'em into the middle of the Main at once, and dashes the _Gondola_ on a Rock. Might you not describe such a boistrous Circumstance in an easy and Pastoral manner.

_Sore raven the fell Sea (Oh sorry Sight!) And strait (most wofull Word) the Boat doth split_.

But these are things which are better left to the Writer's own Genius, than to Rule and Criticism.

As to the gloomy Images, I shall only caution the Pastoral Writer, that they must be of a very different Nature from those in Epick Poetry or Tragedy: That is, the gloomy must not be so strong; but the Images must rather contain a pleasing Amusement. And that they'll do, if they are drawn from the Country: As _Fairies_; _Will-o'-Wisps_; _the Evening_; _falling Stars_; and the like, will all furnish Images exactly agreeable to Pastoral.

Having made this Observation on the _Gloomy Images_, let us now proceed to the Consideration of the Beautiful, which will detain us somewhat longer.

SECT. 2.

_Of Beautiful Images. And of those; which are more, which less fine_.

In my usual way of considering Beautiful Images; for the greater Clearness, I rank 'em into three several Classes. This division I do not desire to impose on any one else; but the mentioning it, cannot be amiss.

Of the three sorts or kinds of Beautiful Images, the first, and least delightful is, where only a simple Image is exhibited to the Reader's Mind. As of a Fair Shepherdess.

The second Sort is, where there is the Addition of the Scene; as suppose we give the Picture of the fair Shepherdess, sitting on the Banks of a pleasant streamlet.

The third, and finest kind of Beautiful Images is, where the Picture contain's a still further Addition of action. As, the Image of a fair Shepherdess, on the Banks of a pleasant Stream asleep, and her innocent Lover harmlessly smoothing her Cloaths as flutter'd by the Wind. And the most beautiful Image in Phillips, or I think any Pastoral-Writer, is of this Nature.

_Once_ Delia _lay, on easy Moss reclin'd; Her lovely Limbs half bare, and rude the Wind. I smooth'd her Coats, and stole a silent Kiss; Condemn me, Shepherds, if I did amiss_.

_Past_. 5.

The last Line contains a Pastoral Thought, of the best Sort; as the three first a Pastoral Image.

The middle of this last Pastoral is full of beautiful Images, and has therefore proved so Entertaining to all Readers, that I wonder Mr. Phillips would not give us the Beautiful in his four first Pieces also.

Of all the Persons who have written in the English Language, no one ever had a Mind so well form'd by Nature for Pleasurable Writing, as Spencer. Yet as he wrote his Pastorals when very Young, this does not appear so much from them, as from his Fairy Queen; thro' which, (like Ovid, in his Metamorphoses) he has perpetually recourse to Pastoral. Especially in his Second Book; in which there are more pleasurable Pastoral Images in every eight Lines, than in all his Pastorals. We have Knights basking in the Sun by a pleasant Stream, rambling among the Shepherdesses, entering delightful Groves surrounded with Trees, or the like, almost in every Stanza; but thro' all his Pastorals, we have not half a dozen beautiful Images. 'Tis therefore the Pastoral Language that support's 'em, which he took excessive pains about.

CHAP. III.

_Of Pastoral Descriptions. And what Authors have the finest_.

Of Images are form'd Descriptions, as by a Combination of Thoughts a Speech is composed. And a Description is good or bad, chiefly as the Images or Circumstances are judiciously, or otherwise, chosen; and artfully put together.

As to the putting them together, I shall only observe, that in Descriptions of the Heat of Love, not in Pastoral, but in such Pieces as Sapho's, or the like, the Circumstances should be couch'd extreamly close; in Epick Poetry the Circumstances should be somewhat less closely heap'd together; and that Pastoral requires 'em the most diffuse of any; being of a Nature extreamly calm and sedate.

Hence we may learn what Length Pastoral will admit of in it's Descriptions. And certain it is, that as we are easily wearied by a cold Speech, so are we by a cold Description, unless very concise.

But as those Poets whose Minds have delighted in Pastoral Images have always been Men of Pleasurable Fancies, and who never would bring their Minds under the Regulation of Art; all who have touch'd Pastoral the finest have egregiously offended in this Particular. The only Writers, I think, who have ever had Genius's form'd for Pastoral Images, are _Ovid_ and _Spencer_; which appear's from the _Metamorphoses_ of the first, and the _Fairy-Queen_ of the latter. As for _Theocritus_, he seem's to me to be better in the Pastoral Thought than Image; and as I rank together _Ovid_ and _Spencer_, so I put _Theocritus_ in the same Class with _Otway_. And I think any one of these Four, if he had form'd his Mind aright by Art, (that is, had either thoroughly understood Criticism in all it's Branches, or else never vitiated his natural Genius by any Learning) was capable of giving the World a perfect Sett of Pastorals. The former two would have run most upon beautiful Images, and the latter two upon Agreeable Thoughts.

I need not instance in the tedious Descriptions of _Theocritus_, _Ovid_ and _Spencer_. But certainly, if long Descriptions are faulty in Epick Poetry, as they prevent the Curiosity of the Reader, and leave him nothing to invent, or to imploy his own Mind upon, they are in Pastoral much more disagreeable. Tho' if any thing would excuse a long Description, there is in _Ovid_ and _Spencer_, that inimitable Delightfulness, which would make 'em pass. Virgil has no Descriptions in his Pastorals so long as Spencer, and Heavens deliver us if he had; for as 'tis, I can better read the longest of _Spencer_'s, than the shortest of his, in his Pastorals.

SECT. 2.

_The proper Length for Descriptions adjusted, from several Considerations_.

What I have laid down seem's in its self plain and evident; but because _Rapin_, and some other Criticks, famous for the Niceness of their Judgments, have made it a considerable Question, and at last own'd themselves unable to decide it, I shall further consider the Matter.

'Tis best, I think, only just to exhibit the Picture of an Object to the Reader's Mind; for if 'tis rightly set and well given, he will himself supply the minute Particulars better to please himself than any Poet can do; as no different Fancies are equally delighted with one and the same thing, the Poet in an extended Description must needs hit upon many Circumstances not pleasant to every Fancy; even tho' he touches all the best Particulars. But if the Poet only set's the Image in the finest Light, by enumerating two or three Circumstances, the Reader's Mind in that very instant it sees the Image or Picture, fill's up all the Omissions with such Particulars, as are most suitable to it's own single Fancy. Which farther conceives something beyond, and something out of the way, if all is not told. Whereas descending to Particulars cool's the Mind, which in those Cases ever finds less than it expected.

To instance in Painting, for that's the same. When I first cast my Eye on a beauteous Landscape, and take in a View of the whole and all it's parts at once, I am in Rapture, not knowing distinctly what it is that pleases me; but when I come to examine all the several Parts, they seem less delightful. Pleasure is greatest if we know not whence it proceeds. And such is the Nature of Man, that if he has all he desires he is no longer delighted; but if ought is with-held, he is still in Eagerness, and full of Curiosity.

Besides, Descriptions in Pastoral should be particularly short, because it draw's into Description nought but the most Common tho' the most Beautiful of Nature's Works: Whereas Epick Poetry, whose Business is to Astonish, represents Monsters and Things unheard of before, and a _Polyphemus_ or a _Cyclops_ will bear, nay require, a more particular Description, than a beauteous Grott, or falling Water; because the One is only calling up into our Mind what we knew before, the other is Creation. Besides that in Epick Poetry the Descriptions are generally more necessary than in Pastoral. To describe the fair Bank where your Lovers sate to talk does not help the _Fable_; but if _Homer_ had not prepared us, by a particular Description of _Polyphemus_'s hugeness, he would not have been credited, when he afterwards said, _That he hurl'd such a Piece of a Rock after_ Ulysses'_s Ship, as drove it back, tho' it touch'd it not, but only plung'd into the Waves, and made 'em roll with so great Violence_.

I shall only add one Observation on this Head, and proceed. Pastoral admits of _Narration_ and _Dialogue_, but in _Narration_ we may be greatly more diffuse in our Descriptions than in the _Dialogue_ part of the Piece. For nothing in Poetry is to be preserv'd with more care than probability, especially in Pastoral. Now for a Shepherd to be relating an Accident of Concern, and to dwell on a Description of Place or Person for four or five Lines in the midst, does it not look as if 'twere only Verses written, and not a Tale actually told by the Swain, since in such a Case 'tis natural to hast to the main Point, and not to dwell so particularly on Matters of no Consideration.

I might give several other Reasons for the shortness of Pastoral Descriptions, as that 'tis the manner of Shepherds not to dwell on one Matter so precisely, but to run from one thing to another; Also, that the Reader's Mind is delighted when it has scope to employ it self; and the like. But the clearness of the Question prevents me.

SECT. 3.

_What Pastoral Images will shine most in a Description_.

We have just shown which Images are the finest; and 'tis evident that by an accumulation of the best Images is form'd the best Description. 'Tis not here my business particularly to show which Circumstances, in any Description, are best, which worst; 'tis enough, that in general We affirm the most Beautiful to be finest in Pastoral, and the most Sublime in Epick Poetry; which are most Beautiful, and which are most Sublime I have elsewhere shown.

Yet there are several foreign Assistances or Adjuncts, which do greatly add to a beautiful Circumstance; as for Instance; if along with a beautiful Image, we by any means show at once the Happiness and Innocence of the rural Inhabiters, it renders the Circumstance greatly more delightful. This can't so well be explain'd as by an Instance. _Ovid_ describes _PROSERPINA_, as she is gathering Flowers in a Meadow among her Play-Fellows, hurried away by _PLUTO_, in order to her Ravishment. Among the Misfortunes, which that Violence brought upon the Innocent young Creature, this is one;

_And oh, out Lap the pretty florets fell_.

There is no Circumstance in any Author, nor any one will be ever invented, more proper for Pastoral than this Line: As it contains not only a most beautiful Image, but show's us at once the Simplicity, and Happiness of the Country, where even such Accidents are accounted Misfortunes.

But this is a Circumstance that would but just bear the touching upon; and _Ovid_ by his two next Lines, has, I think, spoil'd it. In Mr. _SEWEL_'s Translation they run thus.

_Oft on her_ Mates, _oft on her Mother call's, And from her Lap her fragrant Treasure fall's; And she (such Innocence in Youth remains) Of that small Loss, among the rest, complains_.

If he had stopt with the second Line he had put himself, as 'twere, in the place of a Shepherd, and spoke of the Misfortune as if it came from his Heart, and he was interested for the Beauteous Innocent. But in the two last Lines he takes upon him the Author, is grave and reflecting; but nothing is so Beautiful in these kind of Descriptions, as for a Writer to put himself as 'twere in the Place of the Person he speaks of; and unless a Writer delights to do this, and takes Pleasure in his Characters, and has, as 'twere, a Love and Kindness for 'em, he'll never excell in Pastoral. And I have been told, Cubbin, by some of your Acquaintance, that they can easily tell what sort of Characters you were fondest of when your wrote your Pastorals; for there is one you never mention but with an unusual Pleasure and Alacrity; and it appear's from your Description of her that your Heart was on the flutter when you drew it. And if you read it over now, so long after, you'll observe it. But it has made you excell your self.

SECT. 4.

_Cautions for the avoiding some Faults which_ Theocritus, Ovid, Spencer, Tasso, &c. have fallen into in their Descriptions_.

The generality of our narrative Poets under their general Descriptions, bring in the Descriptions of particular and lesser Things. This is very faulty. I might Instance In _OVID_, _SPENCER_, _CHAUCER_, &c, but there is an Example of this so very flagrant in _TASSO_, that I can't forbear mentioning it, as I think 'tis the most monstrous one I ever saw, and these Observations relate alike to Epick Poetry and Pastoral. This Author has occasion in the Thirteenth Book of his Hierusalem to describe a Drought, which he does In Six and Fifty Lines, and then least we might mistake what he's describing tell's us in Eight Lines more, how the Soldiers panted and languished thro' excessive Heat, then in Eight more describes the Horses panting and languishing; then in Eight more gives us a Description of the Dogs, who lay before the Tents also panting and languishing, and so on.

This is what I mean by bringing one Description within another; and 'tis the greatest of Faults. We lose all thoughts of the general Description, and are so engaged in Under-ones, that we have forgot what he at first propos'd to describe.

Another Observation I would make, is, that a Pastoral Writer should be particularly careful not to proceed too far, or dwell too minutely on Circumstances, in his most pleasurable Descriptions, which we may term the Luscious. Such as _Spencer_'s, where he makes his Knight lye loll'd in Pleasures, and Damsels stripping themselves and dancing around for his Diversion. This, _SPENCER_ methinks carries to an excess; for he describes 'em catching his Breath as it steam'd forth; distilling the Sugar'd Liquor between his Lips, and the like. Such Descriptions will grow fulsome if more than just touch'd, as the most delicious things the soonest cloy.

CHAP. IV.

_That Pastoral should Image almost every thing_.

There is nothing more recommends the Tragedys of Mr. _Row_, than his Language, which I think is (in it's own Nature) particularly Beautiful.

As I cannot forbear looking into the Springs and Means by which our best Poets attain their Excellence in the several Dialects they touch the finest, what 'tis that constitutes the Difference between the Language of one and that of another; and also what Rank or Class each Dialect belongs to; I have done the same as to the Writings of Mr. _Row_. And I observe that the chiefest Means he makes use of to render his Tragick Language at once Uncommon and Delightful, is the Figurative Way of considering Things as Persons. What I mean is this.

----_Comfort Dispels the sullen Shades with her sweet Influence_.

And again:

----_My wrongs will tear their Way, And rush at once upon thee_.

Jane Shore: _Act_ 1.

And this is extreamly frequent, especially in Jane Shore. And nothing can be more Beautiful in Heroick Language; and this Author has some Sentiments dress'd, by this Figurative Way, as finely as most of _Shakespear_'s; As this

_Care only wakes, and moping Pensiveness; With Meagre, discontented Looks they sit, And watch the wasting of the Mid-night Taper_.

Now what is this but imaging almost every thing, or turning as many Thoughts as possible into Images?

Now if the Thoughts in strong Lines, (as they call 'em) appear best in Imagery, how much more will Pastoral Thoughts. The former have Passion and Heat to support 'em, the latter are entirely Simple. And If Heroick Writers are fond of Images, how much more should Pastoral Writers avoid a long Series of bare Thoughts, and endeavour to Address the Mind of the Reader with a constant Variety of Pictures.

What I have here delivered may seem trifling to the Reader. But if he looks into the modern Pastoral-Writers he'll observe that the Scarcity of Images goes a great way towards making their Pieces flat and insipid. And 'tis impossible indeed to have a sufficient Variety of Images in a Pastoral that is compos'd by nought but a mournful Speech or Complaint. Therefore a Writer who would not only write regular, but also delightful Pastorals, should doubtless run very much upon Description.

I need not make the Distinction between an Epick and a Pastoral Writer's manner of Imaging. They are widely different; nor can a Pastoral Image so many Things as an Epick Writer. For he cannot consider Things as Persons, nor use the other Methods that Heroick Poetry takes to effect it.

CHAP. V.

_Of the Thoughts. And which are proper for Pastoral, which not_.

I Shall not consider those Thoughts which are, in their own Nature, Vicious; as the Ambiguous, the Pointed, the Insipid, the Refined, the Bombast, and the rest. But of those Kind of Thoughts which are in themselves good, only these three do properly belong to Pastoral; namely, The Agreeable, or Joyous; The Mournful, or Piteous; And the Soft or Tender.

Yet the rest of those Thoughts which are in their own Nature good, may be so order'd as to bear a part in Pastoral. For as We may make a Shepherd false to his Mistress, if he be offended with the Levity of his Nature; so We may make a Lass Ill-natured and Satyrical, for Instance, if 'tis not in her Temper, but assumed only for a good Purpose.

SECT. 2.

_Of those Thoughts which are proper for Pastoral, how to Judge which are finest_.

I need only observe, that where is the greatest Combination of those things which make the best Figure in Pastoral, that is always the best Thought. As a Thought that is not only agreeable or Beautiful, but has also Simplicity. The two finest Passages that I remember in _THEOCRITUS_ for their Simplicity, are these. Which are exceeding well Translated by _CREECH_; whose Language (next to some of _Spencer's_) is vastly the best we have, for pastoral. I will quote the whole Passage.

Daph.) _And as I drove my Herd, a lovely Maid Stood peeping from a Cave; she smil'd, and said, Daphnis is lovely, ah! a lovely Youth; What Smiles, what Graces sit upon his Mouth! I made no sharp Returns, but hung my Head And went my Way, yet pleas'd with what she said_.

Idyll. 8.

Of the same Nature is what _COMATAS_ says in another Place.

Com.) _I milk two Goats; a Maid in yonder Plain Lookt on, and Sigh'd_, Dost milk thy self poor Swain!

And what follows soon after.

Com.) _The fair Calistria, as my Goats I drove, With Apples pelts me, and still murmurs Love_.

Idyll. 5.

Tho' these Thoughts are so exceeding Beautiful thro' their Simplicity, I rather take 'em to be Agreeable Thoughts; and Simplicity to be only an Adjunct or Addition to 'em; as Passion is an Addition and Embellishment to the Sublime Thoughts.

The Mournful Thought, with the Addition of Simplicity, is as pleasing, I think, as the Agreeable with Simplicity. The finest of this kind that I remember in _THEOCRITUS_, are in his 22 _Idyll_. A Shepherd resolves to Hang himself, being scorn'd by the Fair he ador'd. For the more he was frown'd upon the more he loved.

_But when o'recome, he could endure no more, He came and wept before the hated Dora; He wept and pin'd, he hung the sickly Head, The Threshold kist, and thus at last he said_.

Many Thoughts In the Complaint are as fine as this. As, of the following Lines, the 3d and 4th.

_Unworthy of my Love, this Rope receive. The last, most welcome Present I can give. I'll never vex thee more. I'll cease to woe. And whether you condemned, freely go; Where dismal Shades and dark_ Oblivion _dwell_.

Of the same Nature also is what soon after follows.

_Yet grant one Kindness and I ask no more; When you shall see me hanging at the Door. Do not go proudly by, forbear to smile. But stay,_ Sweet Fair, _and gaze, and weep a while; Then take me down, and whilst some Tears are shed, Thine own soft Garment o're my Body spread. And grant One Kiss,--One Kiss when I am dead. Then dig a Grave, there let my Love be laid; And when you part, say thrice,_ My friend is Dead.

All these Thoughts contain Simplicity as an Addition to the Mournful. And 'tis impossible for any Thoughts to be more Natural.

'Twere endless to enumerate all the several kinds of Beautiful Pastoral Thoughts, but from these any one may discover the rest; and the general Rule we gave at the beginning of the Chapter will be a Direction for his ranging them into distinct Classes.

Yet give me leave to mention one Kind, which I think we may term the finest. 'Tis where the Agreeable Thought, and the Tender, meet together, and have besides, the Addition of Simplicity. I would explain my Meaning by a Quotation out of some Pastoral Writer, but I am at a loss how to do it; give me leave therefore to bring a Passage out of the Orphan. A Thought may contain the Tender, either with regard to some Person spoken of, or the Person speaking. The first is common, this Play is full of it. I will therefore Instance in the latter. And first where 'tis chiefly occasion'd by the turn that is given to it in the Expression. Chamont presses his Sister to tell him who has abused her.

Mon.) _But when I've told you, will you keep your Fury Within it's bound? Will you not do some rash And horrid Mischief? for indeed_, Shamont, _You would not think how hardly I've been used From a near Friend_.

Cham.) _I will be calm; but has_ Castalio _wrong'd thee?_

Mon.) _Oh! could you think it!_ (Cham.) _What?_

Mon.) _I fear he'll kill me_. (Cham.) _Hah!_

Mon.) _Indeed I do; he's strangely cruel too me. Which if it lasts, I'm sure must break my Heart_.

Act. 4.

In the other passage the Tender lyes more in the Thought.

Mon.) _Alas my Brother! What have I done? And why do you abuse me? My Heart quakes in me; in your settled Face And clouded Brow methink's I see my Fate; You will not kill me!_

Cham.) _Prithee, why dost talk so?_

Mon.) _Look kindly on me then, I cannot bear Severity; it daunts and does amaze me. My Heart's so tender, should you charge me rough. I should but Weep, and Answer you with Sobing. But use me gently, like a loving Brother, And search thro' all the Secrets of my Soul_.

CHAP. VI.

_Of three Kind of Thoughts which seem to be false, yet are admitted and valued by Pastoral Writers_.

Tho' I proposed not to consider those Thoughts which are false, either in their own Nature, or with Respect to Pastoral; yet there are some such, that yet are thought good, by the generality of Writers, which I shall therefore Just mention; since Pastoral-Writers are especially fond of 'em, and seem to look upon 'em as Beautys. Of these false Thoughts there are, I think, three sorts. The EMBLEMATICAL, the ALLEGORICAL, and the REFINED.

Of the first Sort, or the EMBLEMATICAL, _SPENCER_ was so fond, that he makes it run all thro' his first and last Pastoral; which two come the nearest of any he has to true Pastorals; and contain Thoughts more pleasant than those in his other (especially his Allegorical) Pieces. But these pleasant Thoughts are mostly Emblematical, as this, which I think, is in SPENCER.

_My Leaf is dry'd, my Summer Season's done, And Winter, blasting Blossoms, hieth on_.

Meaning that his happy time of Life was past, and Old Age drew on. I need not prove these Thoughts to be improper for Pastoral.

The Second Sort, or the ALLEGORICAL, is also what _SPENCER_ delighted equally in. His every Pastoral almost has under the plain Meaning a hidden one. Let all judge of Allegorical Pastorals as they please, but in my Opinion, they are not consistent with the Simplicity of that Poem.

The Third Sort I mention'd was the _REFINED_. And of this our Modern Swains are as fond, as _SPENCER_ was of the two first. But all the Difficulty is to show that their Thoughts are refin'd; for all allow a Refin'd Thought to be faulty. But those I am going to mention are not at present look't upon as such. As that Apostrophe, where the Shepherd calls upon the Works of Nature to assist him in his Grief. This Thought being us'd by all Pastoral-Writers show's how Beautiful they thought it: And the generality of them, 'tis plain, took delight in the Affectation of it, because they have put it as affected as they could.

If 'tis possible for any, the finest Turn, that can be given it, to prevent the Affectation, I think the Ingenious Mr. _ROW_ has done it, in his excellent Tragedy, call'd _JANE SHORE_.

_Give me your Drops, Ye soft-descending Rains, Give me your Streams, Ye never-ceasing Springs, &c_.

But the very best Turn, methinks, that can possibly be given to this Thought, Mr. _PHILIPS_, in his Pastorals, has hit upon.

_Teach me to grieve, with bleating Moan, my Sheep, Teach me, thou ever-flowing Stream, to weep; Teach me, ye faint, ye hollow Winds, to sigh, And let my Sorrows teach me how to dye_.

The Thought likewise of the Heavens and the Works of Nature wailing along with the Swain, is what Pastoral-Writers all aim at. I need not quote different Authors, for the different Turns that are given to this Thought; I remember Mr. _CONGREVE_ has it in four several Places. The best express'd, I think, is this.

_The Rocks can Melt, and Air in Mists can mourn, And Floods can weep, and winds to Sighs can turn, &c_.

It seem's to be turn'd the best next in these Lines.

_And now the Winds, which had so long been still, Began the swelling Air, with Sighs to fill, &c_.

The Affectation of the Thought show's it self rather more, I think, in the following Lines.

_And see, the Heav'ns to weep in Dew prepare. And heavy Mists obscure the burd'ned Air On ev'ry Tree the Blossoms turn to Tears, And every Bough a weeping Moisture bears_.

But give me leave to quote the Thought once more and I have done.

_The Marble Weep's, and with a silent Pace, It's trickling Tears distil upon her Face. Falsely ye weep, ye Rocks, and falsely Mourn! For never will ye let the Nymph return!_

If any should have a Curiosity to see these Thoughts at large, for we have not quoted the whole of 'em, he may find 'em in _Congreve_'s Pastoral, call'd _The Mourning Muse of_ ALEXIS.

I shall trouble you with but one Thought more of those which we reduce under the Denomination of Refin'd, and that is the ANTITHESIS. I do not just now remember a Line of this Nature in any Author but Mr. _PHILIPS_; otherwise, I avoid hinting at particular Faults in a Writer who is generally regular and correct, in his Sentiments.

_In vain thou seek'st the Cov'rings of the Grove, In the cool Shades to sing the Heats of Love_.

SECT. 2.

_Of_ SIMPLE THOUGHTS. _And the finest quoted out of_ SHAKESPEAR _and_ PHILIPS.

'Twould be well if Pastoral-Writers would leave aiming at such Thoughts as these, and endeavour to introduce the Simple Ones in their stead. But what is most surprizing, is, that their false Thoughts are as seldom their own, as their true ones, and they steal all indifferently from _THEOCRITUS_ and _VIRGIL_. Which shows how necessary it is to be a thorough Critick, if you would be a good Poet.

Pastoral-Writers are sufficiently for Simplicity; nay so much, that they form their Storys or Fables so little and triffling as to afford no Pleasure; is it not strange then that they should be so averse to Simplicity in their Thoughts; where Simplicity would be the greatest Beauty in their Poetry? Pastoral-Writers have all sorts of false Thoughts but those which we may call the Too Simple. I do not indeed know any Author who has such a Thought unless it be our wide-thoughted _SHAKESPEAR_. And indeed 'tis scarce possible to rise to Simplicity enough, in Pastoral, much less to have a Thought too Simple. _SHAKESPEAR_'s is this.

Des.) _Mine Eyes do itch, doth that boad Weeping?_

Emil.) _'Tis neither here nor there_.

Des.) _I have heard it said so: O these Men, these Men! Dost thou in Conscience think, tell me_ Emilia, _That there be Women do abuse their Husbands, In such gross kind_? &c.

Othello. Act. 4. Sc. last.

But if this passage is too Simple, 'tis for Tragedy so, not for Pastoral; and because _DESDEMONA_ was a Senators Daughter, and Educated in so polite a place as _VENICE_; but in Pastoral, I think, we may Introduce a Character so Young, Simple and Innocent, that there is no Thought so Simple but will square with it; at least, we have no Instance of any such one as yet. The Simplicity of this Scene would be inimitable for Pastoral; and I think, it shows as great if not a greater Genius, in the Writing it, than any one in _SHAKESPEAR_. But a Scene so truly Simple and Innocent cannot well be represented. Besides, what is best writ is most open to the Ridicule of little Genius's; And more, I doubt, look upon this Scene in _OTHELLO_ as Comedy, than have a taste of that sweet Simplicity, that is in it, if we consider the Sentiments only in themselves.

Yet must we not carry the Reflection too far, of Pastoral-Writers having no such thing as the Simple in any of their Thoughts, for there are passages in Mr. _PHILIPS Pieces_ truly Simple. And 'tis worthy Observation how beautiful a figure they make, tho' we don't consider 'em as being in a Pastoral. Such is the celebrated one, contain'd in the last of these Lines.

_I smooth'd her Coats, and stole a silent Kiss: Condemn me Shepherds if I did amiss_.

_Phllips Past_. 6.

But we have greatly more Simple Thoughts in other Pieces than in Pastorals. The finest of all which, is this famous one in _OTHELLO_.

_Why I should fear I know not, Since Guiltiness I know not: But yet I feel I fear_.

Yet need we not much wonder at the scarcity of these Simple Thoughts; since there is nothing requires so great a Genius as finely to touch the SIMPLE; and the greatest Genius's never attempt Pastoral; it being a Form so mean, little and trifling, without the Ornaments of Poetry, FABLE, MANNERS, MORAL, &c. and of a confused Imperfect Nature.

CHAP. VII.

_Of COMPARISONS in Pastoral. And how much our modern Pastoral-Writers have fail'd therein_.

SIMILIES in Pastoral must be managed with an exceeding deal of Care, or they will be faulty. As a Poet may range Nature for Comparisons; this gives a Pastoral-Writer a very easy Opportunity of introducing rural Thoughts. _VIRGIL_ therefore, and those Swains who have written Pastorals more by Art and Imitation than Genius, generally heap three or four SIMILIES together for the same thing; and which is of no Moment; nor wanted any Comparison.

As I have hinted that _Theocritus_ had a Genius capable of writing a perfect Set of Pastorals, his Similies are infinitely the best of any Swain's. The chief Rule, I think, to be observ'd is (if Rules can be given for such Things as these) that SIMILIES be contain'd in three or four Words. As this of _PHILIPS_'s.

_Whilon did I, all as this_ Pop'lar _fair, Up-raise my heedless Head devoid of Care_, &c.

Or at most they ahould not exceed a Line. As this is a very Beautiful one In the same Author. And also in his 1st Pastoral.

_A Girland, deck't with all the Pride of_ May, _Sweet as her Breath, and as her Beauty gay_, &c.

I shall not give my Opinion of the following Similies; yet I might say that I think 'em not altogether so fine as the foregoing two. Altho' they contain delightful Images

_As Milk-white Swans on Silver Streams do show, And Silver Streams to grace the Meadows flow; As Corn the Vales and Trees the Hills adorn, So thou to thine an Ornament was't born_.

_Past_. 3.

The next relates to the Sweetness of _Colinet_'s Voice.

_Not half so sweet are Midnight Winds, that move In drowsy Murmurs o're the waving Grove; Nor dropping Waters, that in Grotts distil, And with a tinkling Sound their Caverns fill_.

_Past_. 4.

Methinks thus dressing a Thought so pompous in SIMILIES, raises so our Expectation, that we are fit to smile when the last Line comes.

There are also another kind of Similies, which being heapt in the same manner, seem to be design'd by _VIRGIL_, and those who have taken their Thoughts from him, rather to fill up Space with somthing Pastoral, than to be the natural Talk of Shepherds. For Swains are not suppos'd to retard their Storys by many or long SIMILIES; their Talk comes from the Heart, Unornamental; but Similies, in Pastoral, are for Ornament. But I must show what kind of Thoughts I mean, which I also account SIMILIES, but they have a peculiar Turn given to 'em. I remember but two in Mr. _PHILIPS_ Pastorals.

_First then shall lightsome Birds forget to fly, The briny Ocean turn to pastures dry, And every rapid River cease to flow, 'Ere I unmindful of_ Menalcas _grow_.

The other is this.

_While Mallow Kids; and Endive Lambs pursue; While Bees love Thyme; and Locusts sip the Dew;_ _While Birds delight in Woods their Notes to strain, Thy Name and sweet Memorial shall remain_.

But now I have given Examples of those Similies which seem faulty; and quoted at the beginning of the Section, some that are good; I will bring an Instance of a SIMILIE, which is more delightful to the Fancy than all these put together; and which show's that _Theocritus_ thought 'twas a small thing to put down Pastoral Thoughts or Images, if he did not cull the most pleasurable in Nature. _CREECH_ has translated it very well. _DAPHNIS_ had conquer'd _MENALCAS_ in Singing.

_The Boy rejoyc'd, he leap'd with youthful Heat, As sucking Colts leap when they swig the Teat; The other griev'd, he hung his bashful Head, As marry'd Virgins when first laid in Bed_.

CHAP. VIII.

_Of imitation; or Stealing Sentiments from the_ ANTIENTS.

If a direct Imitation of the Thoughts of the _Greeks_ and _Romans_, shows no great Richness of Genius, in any kind of Poetry, in Pastoral 'tis much more to be avoided. If a Hero does sometimes talk out _HOMER_ and _VIRGIL_, 'tis not so shocking, because tis not dissonant to Reason to suppose such a Person acquainted with Letters and Authors; nor is an Heroick Poems Essence Simplicity; But if a Modern gives me the Talk of a Shepherd, and I have seen it almost all before in _THEOCRITUS_, _VIRGIL_ and _SPENCER_, it cannot delight me. For that Poetry pleases the most, that deceives the most naturally. But how can I, while I am reading a pastoral, impose upon my self that I am among Swains and in the Country, if I remember all they say is in _Greek_ and _Roman_ Authors. And few read _Modern-Writers_ but have read the _Antients_ first. A Shepherd should speak from his Heart, as if he had no design of Pleasing, but is prompted to utter all he says: But if in all he says we see an Imitation, or a Thought stole from other Authors, it destroys all Simplicity, shows Design and Labour.

Besides, Epick Poetry warms and elevates the Mind, hurries it on with fury and Violence, which prevents our noting any slight Inacuracy, so as to be offended by it; but in so cool a Poem as Pastoral, whose design is to sooth and soften the Mind, we have leasure to consider every Unnaturalness and every Improbability.

SECT. 2.

_Of_ Soloman'_s Allegorical pastorals; Entitled_ The CANTICLES.

Yet I know not how, tho' 'tis so unnatural to find Thoughts in the Mouths of Shepherds, which we have observ'd in _THEOCRITUS_ and _VIRGIL_, yet I am never better pleased than with those Thoughts which are taken out of the Scripture. Methinks the Thoughts in the CANTICLES are so exceeding fine for Pastoral that 'tis pity to give 'em any other Turn than what they have there; and if I did take any of those Pastoral Sentiments, I would translate the whole Passage as we there find it.

_MILTON_ in his soft Passages has often imitated the Thoughts in the CANTICLES; and Mr. _PHILIPS_ has taken from thence the hint of the finest Image but one he has in his Pastorals.

_Breath soft ye Winds, ye Waters gently flow, Shield her ye Trees, ye Flow'rs around her grow, Ye Swains, I beg ye pass in silence by, My Love in yonder Vale asleep doth lye_.

My not disliking Thoughts taken from the CANTICLES, makes me think that 'tis not so much the Thoughts being stolen from _THEOCRITUS_ or _VIRGIL_ that makes me dislike 'em, as the poor and mean Figure they make in Poetry. Could Poets take as fine Pastoral Images from the Antients, as this of _Philips_, I believe no one but would be pleased by 'em, come from whence they would. But the Thoughts which our Writers take from the Antients are such, that would they trust their own Genius's, I am satisfied they would, at least, not have worse, nor more false ones.

I was a little surprized when I first read Mr. _Philips_'s _5th_ Pastoral, (which has the most of a story or Fable of any) how he came to take the very story which _STRADA_ tell's to show what a Genius _CLAUDIAN_ had. _OVID_'s _Metamorphoses_ is full of such Fairy and Romantick Tales, and he might well enough have given a Description of a Bird's contending with a Man for the Prize in Singing, but methinks 'tis not wholly probable enough for a Fable in Pastoral.

Now the Cause of my mentioning this in Mr. _PHILIPS_, is to persuade, if possible, those who shall hereafter engage in Pastoral-Writing to trust to their own Genius's. By that means we may hope Pastoral will, one Day, arrive at it's utmost Perfection, which if Writers pretend to go no farther than the first who undertook it (I mean _THEOCRITUS_) it never can do. For 'tis no one Genius that can bring any Kind of Poetry to it's greatest Compleatness. And all know by what slow Steps Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and Comedy arrived at the Perfection they now bear.

SECT. _Last_.

But now the time of Day drew on, when Cubbin must drive his Heifers to Water. Sophy therefore withdrew, but promised to be there in the Evening agen.

When the Heat of the Day was over, and the Evening Air began to breath in a delightful manner, Sophy accordingly appear'd, and setting him on the Rushes, that esprouted up by the River side, open'd his Book, and proceeded in the following Manner.

_The End of the Third part_.