2. It being now seen, what was the real form of the satire, nothing, it is plain, was wanting, but the application of a particular address, to constitute the didactic epistle: the structure of this poem, as prescribed by the laws of nature and good sense, being in nothing different from that of the other. For here 1. an unity of subject or design is indispensably necessary, the freedom of a miscellaneous matter being permitted only to the familiar letter. And 2. not professing formally to instruct (which alone justifies the severity of strict method) but, when of the gravest kind, in the way of address only to insinuate instruction, it naturally takes an air of negligence and inconnexion, such as we have before seen essential to the satire. All which is greatly confirmed by the testimony of one, who could not be uninformed in these matters. In addressing his friend on the object of his studies, he says,
plainly intimating, that the rules and labour of composition were exactly the same in these two poems. Though the critics on Statius, not apprehending this identity, or exact correspondence between the satire and epistle, have unnecessarily, and without warrant, altered the text, in this place, from ALIA into ALTA.
3. The general form and structure of this epistle being thus clearly understood, it will now be easy, in few words, to deduce the peculiar laws of its composition.
And 1. it cannot wholly divest itself of all method: For, having only one point in view, it must of course pursue it by some kind of connexion. The progress of the mind in rational thinking requires, that the chain be never broken entirely, even in its freest excursions.
2. As there must needs be a connexion, so that connexion will best answer its end and the purpose of the writer, which, whilst it leads, by a sure train of thinking, to the conclusion in view, conceals itself all the while, and leaves to the reader the satisfaction of supplying the intermediate links, and joining together, in his own mind, what is left in a seeming posture of neglect and inconnexion. The art of furnishing this gratification, so respectful to the sagacity of the reader, without putting him to the trouble of a painful investigation, is what constitutes the supreme charm and beauty of Epistolary Method.
II. What hath hitherto been advanced respects chiefly the didactic form. It remains to say something of that other species of the epistle, the Elegiac; which, as I observed, had quite another original. For this apparently sprung up from what is properly called the Elegy: a poem of very antient Greek extraction: naturally arising from the plaintive, querulous humour of mankind; which, under the pressure of any grief, is impatient to break forth into wailings and tender expostulations, and finds a kind of relief in indulging and giving a loose to that flow of sorrow, which it hath not strength or resolution wholly7 to restrain. This is the account of the Elegy in its proper Greek form; a negligent, inconnected, abrupt species of writing, perfectly suited to an indolent disposition and passionate heart. Such was Ovid’s; who, taking advantage of this character of the elegy, contrived8 a new kind of poetry, without the expence of much invention, or labour to himself. For, collecting, as it were, those scattered hints, which composed the elegy, and directing them to one principal view; and superadding a personal address, he became the author of what is here styled the Elegiac epistle; beautiful models of which we have in his Heroides, and the Epistles from Pontus. We see then the difference of this from the didactic form. They have both one principal end and point in view. But the Didactic, being of a cooler and more sedate turn, pursues its design uniformly and connects easily. The Elegiac, on the contrary, whose end is emotion, not instruction, hath all the abruptness of irregular disordered passion. It catches at remote and distant hints, and starts at once into a digressive train of thinking, which it requires some degree of enthusiasm in the reader to follow.
Further than this it is not material to my present design to pursue this subject. More exact ideas of the form and constitution of this epistle, must be sought in that best example of it, the natural Roman poet. It may only be observed of the different qualities, necessary to those, who aspire to excel in these two species: that, as the one would make an impression on the heart, it can only do this by means of an exquisite sensibility of nature and elegance of mind; and that the other, attempting in the most inoffensive manner, to inform the head, must demand, to the full accomplishment of its purpose, superior good sense, the widest knowledge of life, and, above all, the politeness of a consummate address. That the former was the characteristic of Ovid’s genius hath been observed, and is well known. How far the latter description agrees to Horace can be no secret to those of his readers who have any share, or conception of these talents themselves. But matters of this nicer kind are properly the objects, not of criticism, but of sentiment. Let it suffice then to examine the poet’s practice, so far only, as we are enabled to judge of it by the standard of the preceding rules.
III. These rules are reducible to three. 1. that there be an unity in the subject. 2. a connexion in the method: and 3. that such connexion be easy. All which I suppose to have been religiously observed in the poet’s conduct of this, i. e. the didactic epistle. For,
1. The subject of each epistle is one: that is, one single point is prosecuted through the whole piece, notwithstanding that the address of the poet, and the delicacy of the subject may sometimes lead him through a devious tract to it. Had his interpreters attended to this practice, so consonant to the rule of nature before explained, they could never have found an art of poetry in the epistle, we are about to examine.
2. This one point, however it hath not been seen9, is constantly pursued by an uniform, consistent method; which is never more artificial, than when least apparent to a careless, inattentive reader. This should have stimulated his learned critics to seek the connexion of the poet’s own ideas, when they magisterially set themselves to transpose or vilify his method.
3. This method is every where sufficiently clear and obvious; proceeding if not in the strictest forms of disposition, yet, in an easy, elegant progress, one hint arising out of another, and insensibly giving occasion to succeeding ones, just as the cooler genius of this kind required. This, lastly, should have prevented those, who have taken upon themselves to criticize the art of poetry by the laws of this poem, from concealing their ignorance of its real views under the cover of such abrupt and violent transitions, as might better agree to the impassioned elegy, than to the sedate didactic epistle.
To set this three-fold character, in the fullest light, before the view of the reader, I have attempted to explain the Epistle to the Pisos, in the way of continued commentary upon it. And that the coherence of the several parts may be the more distinctly seen, the Commentary is rendered as concise as possible; some of the finer and less obvious connexions being more carefully observed and drawn out in the notes.
For the kind of interpretation itself, it must be allowed, of all others, the fittest to throw light upon a difficult and obscure subject, and, above all, to convey an exact idea of the scope and order of any work. It hath, accordingly, been so considered by several of the foreign, particularly the Italian, critics; who have essayed long since to illustrate, in this way, the very piece before us. But the success of these foreigners is, I am sensible, a slender recommendation of their method. I chuse therefore to rest on the single authority of a great author, who, in his edition of our English Horace, the best that ever was given of any classic, hath now retrieved and established the full credit of it. What was the amusement of his pen, becomes indeed, the labour of inferior writers. Yet, on these unequal terms, it can be no discredit to have aimed at some resemblance of one of the least of those merits, which shed their united honours on the name of the illustrious friend and commentator of Mr. Pope.
The subject of this piece being, as I suppose, one, viz. the state of the Roman Drama, and common sense requiring, even in the freest forms of composition, some kind of method, the intelligent reader will not be surprised to find the poet prosecuting his subject in a regular, well-ordered plan; which, for the more exact description of it, I distinguish into three parts:
I. The first of them [from v. 1 to 89] is preparatory to the main subject of the epistle, containing some general rules and reflexions on poetry, but principally with an eye to the following parts: by which means it serves as an useful introduction to the poet’s design, and opens with that air of ease and negligence, essential to the epistolary form.
II. The main body of the epistle [from v. 89 to 295] is laid out in regulating the Roman stage; but chiefly in giving rules for tragedy; not only as that was the sublimer species of the Drama, but, as it should seem, less cultivated and understood.
III. The last part [from v. 295 to the end] exhorts to correctness in writing; yet still with an eye, principally, to the dramatic species; and is taken up partly in removing the causes, that prevented it, and partly in directing to the use of such means, as might serve to promote it. Such is the general plan of the epistle. In order to enter fully into it, it will be necessary to trace the poet, attentively, through the elegant connexions of his own method.
The epistle begins [to v. 9] with that general and fundamental precept of preserving an unity in the subject and the disposition of the piece. This is further explained by defining the use, and fixing the character of poetic licence [from v. 9 to 13] which unskilful writers often plead in defence of their transgressions against the law of UNITY. To v. 23 is considered and exposed that particular violation of uniformity, into which young poets especially, under the impulse of a warm imagination, are apt to run, arising from frequent and ill-timed descriptions. These, however beautiful in themselves, and with whatever mastery they may be executed, yet, if foreign to the subject, and incongruous to the place, where they stand, are extremely impertinent: a caution, the more necessary, as the fault itself wears the appearance of a virtue, and so writers [from v. 23 to 25] come to transgress the rule of right from their very ambition to observe it. There are two cases, in which this ambition remarkably misleads us. The first is when it tempts us to push an acknowledged beauty too far. Great beauties are always in the confines of great faults; and therefore, by affecting superior excellence, we are easily carried into absurdity. Thus [from v. 25 to 30] brevity is often obscurity; sublimity, bombast; caution, coolness; and, to come round to the point, a fondness for varying and diversifying a subject, by means of episodes and descriptions, such as are mentioned above [v. 15] will often betray a writer into that capital error of violating the unity of his piece. For, though variety be a real excellence under the conduct of true judgment, yet, when affected beyond the bounds of probability, and brought in solely to strike and surprize, it becomes unseasonable and absurd. The several episodes or descriptions, intended to give that variety, may be inserted in improper places; and then the absurdity is as great, as that of the painter, who, according to the illustration of v. 19, 20, should introduce a cypress into a sea-piece, or, according to the illustration of the present verse, who paints a dolphin in a wood, or a boar in the sea.
2. Another instance, in which we are misled by an ambition of attaining to what is right, is, when, through an excessive fear of committing faults, we disqualify ourselves for the just execution of a whole, or of such particulars, as are susceptible of real beauty. For not the affectation of superior excellencies only, but even