fcription of the council of the Gods, and a speech of Jupiter; which contain a peculiar beauty and majesty, and were left out for no other reason, but because the confequence of this machine appears not till the fecond book.) The tranflation goes on from thence to the words Hic vero ambobus rabiem fortuna cruentam, where there is an odd account of a battle at fifty-cuffs between the two Princes on a very flight occafion, and at a time when, one would think, the fatigue of their journey, in fo tempeftuous a night, might have rendered them very unfit for fuch a fcuffle. This I had actually translated, but was very ill fatisfied with it, even in my own words, to which an author cannot but be partial enough of confcience; it was therefore omitted in this copy, which goes on above eighty lines farther, at the words-Hic primum luftrare oculis, etc.-to the end of the book. You will find, I doubt not, that Statius* was none of the discreetest Poets, though he was the best versifier next Virgil: In the very beginning he unluckily betrays his ignorance in the rules of Poetry (which Horace had already taught the Romans) when he afks * Statius is one inftance among a thousand, that a man may poffefs genius and imagination, and at the fame time want tafte and judgment. Claudian is a far better writer, though his verfes have more monotony than the numbers of Statius. It is remarkable that Gray's first attempt in English verse, was a translation of a paffage in Statius. 1736. See Memoirs, p. 9. 4to. A translation of Statius, by several hands, was intended to be published. Harte translated the fixth book, and Pitt the third. afks his Mufe where to begin his Thebaid, and seems to doubt whether it fhould not be ab ovo Ledao. When he comes to the fcene of his Poem, and the prize in difpute between the brothers, he gives us a very mean opinion of it-Pugna eft de paupere regno -Very different from the conduct of his master Virgil, who at the entrance of his poem informs his reader of the greatness of its fubjects-Tanta molis erat Romanam condere gentem. [Boffu on Epic Poetry.] There are innumerable little faults in him, among which I cannot but take notice of one in this book, where, speaking of the implacable hatred of the brothers, he fays, The whole world would be too fmall a prize to repay fo much impiety. Quid fi peteretur crimine tanto Limes uterque poli, quem Sol emiffus Eoo This was pretty well, one would think, already; but he goes on. Quafque procul terras obliquo fydere tangit Avius, aut Borea gelidas, madidive tepentes. Igne Noti? After all this, what could a Poet think of but Heaven itself for the prize? But what follows is astonishing. Quid fi Tyriæ Phrygiæve fub unum I do not remember to have met with fo great a fall in any ancient author whatsoever. I should not have infifted infifted fo much on the faults of this Poet*, if I did not hope you would take the fame freedom with, and revenge it upon his Tranflator. his Translator. I fhall be extremely glad if the reading this can be any amusement to you, the rather because I had the diffatisfaction to hear you have been confined to your chamber by an illness, which, I fear, was as troublesome a companion as I have sometimes been in the fame place; where, if ever you found any pleasure in my company, it must surely have been that which most men take in obferving the faults and follies of another; a pleasure, which, you fee, I take care to give you even in my abfence. If you will oblige me at your leisure with the confirmation of your recovery, under your own hand, it will be extremely grateful to me, for next to the pleasure of seeing my friends, is that I take in hearing from them; and in this particular I am beyond all acknowledgments obliged to our friend Mr. Wycherley. I know I need no apology to you for fpeaking of him, whofe example as I am proud of following in all things, fo in nothing more than in profeffing myfelf, like him, Your, etc. * His wild and gigantic images, and pompous diction, fo much resembled the old romances, that he was the favourite poet of the middle ages. LETTER VI. March 7, 1709. ou had long before this time been troubled with γου that a letter from me, but that I deferred it till I could fend you either the Mifcellany, or my continuation of the version of Statius. The first I imagined you might have had before now, but fince the contrary has happened, you may draw this moral from it, That authors in general are more ready to write nonsense than bookfellers are to publish it. I had I know not what extraordinary flux of rhyme upon me for three days together, in which time all the verses you fee added, have been written; which I tell you you may more freely be fevere upon them. 'Tis a mercy I do not affault you with a number of original Sonnets and Epigrams, which our modern bards put forth in the spring-time, in as great abundance, as trees do bloffoms, a very few whereof ever come to be fruit, and please no longer than just in their birth. They make no lefs hafte to bring their flowers of wit to the prefs, than gardeners to bring their other flowers to the market, which if they can't get off their hands in the morning, are sure to die before night. Thus the fame reason that furnishes Covent e Jacob Tonfon's fixth volume of Poetical Mifcellanies, in which Mr. Pope's Paftorals, and fome verfions of Homer and Chaucer were first printed. P. Covent-garden with those nofegays you fo delight in, fupplies the Mufes Mercury and British Apollo (not to fay Jacob's Mifcellanies) with verfes. And it is the happiness of this age that the modern invention of printing poems for pence a-piece, has brought the nofegays of Parnaffus to bear the fame price; whereby the public-fpirited Mr. Henry Hills of Black-friars has been the cause of great ease and fingular comfort to all the learned, who never over-abounding in tranfitory coin, should not be discontented (methinks) even though poems were distributed gratis about the streets, like Bunyan's fermons and other pious treatises, ufually publifhed in a like volume and character. The time now drawing nigh, when you use with Sappho to cross the water in an evening to Springgarden, I hope you will have a fair opportunity of ravifhing her:I mean only (as Oldfox in the Plain-dealer fays) through the ear, with your wellpenned verses. I wish you all the pleasures which the season and the nymph can afford; the best company, the best coffee, and the best news you can defire; and what more to wish you than this, I do not know; unless it be a great deal of patience to read and examine the verfes I fend you: I promise you in return a great deal of deference to your judgment, and an extraordinary obedience to your fentiments for the future (to which, you know, I have been sometimes a little refractory). If you will please |