out into expressions of this nature:-- O pass not by, my friend; nor leave me here Without a grave, and on that grave a tear; ("Odyssey," xi. 72.)
and, Then to the ghosts the mournful soul did fly, Sore grieved in midst of youth and strength to die; ("Iliad," xvi. 856.)
and again, 'Tis sweet to see the light. O spare me then, Till I arrive at th' usual age of men: Nor force my unfledged soul from hence, to know The doleful state of dismal shades below.
(Euripides, "Iphigenia at Aulus," 1218.)
These, I say, are the speeches of men persuaded of these things, as being possessed by erroneous opinions; and therefore they touch us the more nearly and torment us inwardly, because we ourselves are full of the same impotent passion from which they were uttered. To fortify us therefore against expressions of this nature, let this principle continually ring in our ears, that poetry is not at all solicitous to keep to the strict measure of truth. And indeed, as to what that truth in these matters is, even those men themselves who make it their only study to learn and search it out confess that they can hardly discover any certain footsteps to guide them in that inquiry. Let us therefore have these verses of Empedocles, in this case, at hand:-- No sight of man's so clear, no ear so quick, No mind so piercing, that's not here to seek; as also those of Xenophanes:-- The truth about the gods and ghosts, no man E'er was or shall be that determine can; and lastly, that passage concerning Socrates, in Plato, where he by the solemnity of an oath disclaims all knowledge of those things. For those who perceive that the searching into such matters makes the heads of philosophers themselves giddy cannot but be the less inclined to regard what poets say concerning them.
And we shall fix our young men more if, when we enter him in the poets, we first describe poetry to him and tell him that it is an imitating art and is in many respects like unto painting; not only acquainting him with that common saying, that poetry is vocal painting and painting silent poetry, but showing him, moreover, that when we see a lizard or an ape or the face of a Thersites in a picture, we are surprised with pleasure and wonder at it, not because of any beauty in the things, but for the likeness of the draught. For it is repugnant to the nature of that which is itself foul to be at the same time fair; and therefore it is the imitation--be the thing imitated beautiful or ugly--that, in case it do express it to the life, is commanded; and on the contrary, if the imitation make a foul thing to appear fair, it is dispraised because it observes not decency and likeness. Now some painters there are that paint uncomely actions; as Timotheus drew Medea killing her children; Theon, Orestes murdering his mother; and Parrhasius, Ulysses counterfeiting madness; yea, Chaerephanes expressed in picture the unchaste converse of women with men. Now in such cases a young man is to be familiarly acquainted with this notion, that, when men praise such pictures, they praise not the actions represented but only the painter's art which doth so lively express what was designed in them. Wherefore, in like manner, seeing poetry many times describes by imitation foul actions and unseemly passions and manners, the young student must not in such descriptions (although performed never so cleverly and commendably) believe all that is said as true or embrace it as good, but give its due commendation so far only as it suits the subject treated of. For as, when we hear the grunting of hogs and the shrieking of pulleys and the rustling of wind and the roaring of seas, we are, it may be, disturbed and displeased, and yet when we hear any one imitating these or the like noises handsomely (as Parmenio did that of an hog, and Theodorus that of a pulley), we are well pleased; and as we avoid (as an unpleasing spectacle) the sight of sick persons and of a man full of ulcers, and yet are delighted to be spectators of the Philoctetes of Aristophon and the Jocasta of Silanion, wherein such wasting and dying persons are well acted; so must the young scholar, when he reads in a poem of Thersites the buffoon or Sisyphus the whoremaster or Batrachus the bawd speaking or doing anything, so praise the artificial managery of the poet, adapting the expressions to the persons, as withal to look on the discourses and actions so expressed as odious and abominable. For the goodness of things themselves differs much from the goodness of the imitation of them; the goodness of the latter consisting only in propriety and aptness to represent the former. Whence to foul acts foul expressions are most suitable and proper. As the shoes of Demonides the cripple (which, when he had lost them, he wished might suit the feet of him that stole them) were but poor shoes, but yet fit for him; so we may say of such expressions as these:-- If t'is necessary an unjust act to do, It is best to do it for a throne; (Euripides, "Phoenissae," 524.)
Get the repute of Just, And in it do all things whence gain may come; A talent dowry! Could I Sleep, or live, if thee I should neglect?
And should I not in hell tormented be, Could I be guilty of such sacrilege?
(From Menander.)
These, it is true, are wicked as well as false speeches, but yet are decent enough in the mouth of an Eteocles, an Ixion, and a griping usurer. If therefore we mind our children that the poets write not such things as praising and approving them, but do really account them base and vicious and therefore accommodate such speeches to base and vicious persons, they will never be damnified by them from the esteem they have of the poets in whom they meet with them. But, on the contrary, the suspicions insinuated into them of the persons will render the words and actions ascribed to them suspected for evil, because proceeding from such evil men. And of this nature is Homer's representation of Paris, when he describes him running out of the battle into Helen's bed. For in that he attributes no such indecent act to any other, but only to that incontinent and adulterous person, he evidently declares that he intends that relation to import a disgrace and reproach to such intemperance.
In such passages therefore we are carefully to observe whether or not the poet himself do anywhere give any intimation that he dislikes the things he makes such persons say; which, in the prologue to his Thais Menander does, in these words:-- Therefore, my Muse, describe me now a whore, Fair, bold, and furnished with a nimble tongue; One that ne'er scruples to do lovers wrong; That always craves, and denied shuts her door; That truly loves no man, yet, for her ends, Affection true to every man pretends.
But Homer of all the poets does it best. For he doth beforehand, as it were, bespeak dislike of the evil things and approbation of the good things he utters. Of the latter take these instances:-- He readily did the occasion take, And sweet and comfortable words he spake; ("Odyssey," vi. 148.)
By him he stood, and with soft speeches quelled The wrath which in his heated bosom swelled.
("Iliad," ii. 180.)
And for the former, he so performs it as in a manner solemnly to forbid us to use or heed such speeches as those he mentions, as being foolish and wicked. For example, being to tell us how uncivilly Agamemnon treated the priest, he premises these words of his own,-- Not so Atrides: he with kingly pride Repulsed the sacred sire, and thus replied; (Ibid. i. 24.)
intimating the insolency and unbecomingness of his answer. And when he attributes this passionate speech to Achilles,-- O monster, mix'd of insolence and fear, Thou dog in forehead, and in heart a deer!
(Ibid. i. 225.)
he accompanies it with this censure,-- Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forsook, Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke; (Ibid. i. 223.)
for it was unlikely that speaking in such anger he should observe any rules of decency.
And he passeth like censures on actions. As on Achilles's foul usage of Hector's carcass,-- Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view) Before the bier the bleeding Hector threw.
("Iliad," xxiii. 24.)
And in like manner he doth very decently shut up relations of things said or done, by adding some sentence wherein he declares his judgment of them. As when he personates some of the gods saying, on the occasion of the adultery of Mars and Venus discovered by Vulcan's artifice,-- See the swift god o'ertaken by the lame!
Thus ill acts prosper not, but end in shame.
("Odyssey," viii. 329.)
And thus concerning Hector's insolent boasting he says,-- With such big words his mind proud Hector eased, But venerable Juno he displeased.
("Iliad," viii. 198.)
And when he speaks of Pandarus's shooting, he adds,-- He heard, and madly at the motion pleased, His polish'd bow with hasty rashness seized.
(Ibid. iv. 104.)
Now these verbal intimations of the minds and judgments of poets are not difficult to be understood by any one that will heedfully observe them.
But besides these, they give us other hints from actions. As Euripides is reported, when some blamed him for bringing such an impious and flagitious villain as Ixion upon the stage, to have given this answer: But yet I brought him not off till I had fastened him to a torturing wheel. This same way of teaching by mute actions is to be found in Homer also, affording us useful contemplations upon those very fables which are usually most disliked in him. These some men offer force to, that they may reduce them to allegories (which the ancients called [Greek omitted]), and tell us that Venus committing adultery with Mars, discovered by the Sun, is to be understood thus: that when the star called Venus is in conjunction with that which hath the name of Mars, bastardly births are produced, and by the Sun's rising and discovering them they are not concealed. So will they have Juno's dressing herself so accurately to tempt Jupiter, and her making use of the girdle of Venus to inflame his love, to be nothing else but the purification of that part of the air which draweth nearest to the nature of fire. As if we were not told the meaning of those fables far better by the poet himself. For he teacheth us in that of Venus, if we heed it, that light music and wanton songs and discourses which suggest to men obscene fancies debauch their manners, and incline them to an unmanly way of living in luxury and wantonness, of continually haunting the company of women, and of being Given to fashions, that their garb may please, Hot baths, and couches where they loll at case.
And therefore also he brings in Ulysses directing the musician thus,-- Leave this, and sing the horse, out of whose womb The gallant knights that conquered Troy did come; ("Odyssey," viii. 249 and 492.)
evidently teaching us that poets and musicians ought to receive the arguments of their songs from sober and understanding men. And in the other fable of Juno he excellently shows that the conversation of women with men, and the favors they receive from them procured by sorcery, witchcraft, or other unlawful arts, are not only short, unstable, and soon cloying, but also in the issue easily turned to loathing and displeasure, when once the pleasure is over. For so Jupiter there threatens Juno, when he tells her,-- Hear this, remember, and our fury dread, Nor pull the unwilling vengeance on thy head; Lest arts and blandishments successless prove Thy soft deceits and well dissembled love.
("Iliad," xv. 32.)
For the fiction and representation of evil acts, when it withal acquaints us with the shame and damage befalling the doers, hurts not but rather profits him that reads them. For which end philosophers make use of examples for our instruction and correction out of historical collections; and poets do the very same thing, but with this difference, that they invent fabulous examples themselves. There was one Melanthius, who (whether in jest or earnest he said it, it matters not much) affirmed that the city of Athens owed its preservation to the dissensions and factions that were among the orators, giving withal this reason for his assertion, that thereby they were kept from inclining all of them to one side, so that by means of the differences among those statesmen there were always some that drew the saw the right way for the defeating of destructive counsels. And thus it is too in the contradictions among poets, which, by lessening the credit of what they say, render them the less powerful to do mischief; and therefore, when comparing one saying with another we discover their contrariety, we ought to adhere to the better side. As in these instances:-- The gods, my son, deceive poor men oft-times.
ANS. 'Tis easy, sir, on God to lay our crimes.
'Tis comfort to thee to be rich, is't not!
ANS. No, sir, 'tis bad to be a wealthy sot.
Die rather than such toilsome pains to take.
ANS. To call God's service toil's a foul mistake.
Such contrarieties as these are easily solved, if (as I said) we teach youth to judge aright and to give the better saying preference. But if we chance to meet with any absurd passages without any others at their heels to confute them, we are then to overthrow them with such others as elsewhere are to be found in the same author. Nor must we be offended with the poet or grieved at him, but only at the speeches themselves, which he utters either according to the vulgar manner of speaking or, it may be, but in drollery. So, when thou readest in Homer of gods thrown out of heaven headlong one by another, or gods wounded by men and quarrelling and brawling with each other, thou mayest readily, if thou wilt, say to him,-- Sure thy invention here was sorely out, Or thou hadst said far better things, no doubt; ("Iliad," viii. 358.)
yea, and thou dost so elsewhere, and according as thou thinkest, to wit, in these passages of thine:-- The gods, removed from all that men doth grieve, A quiet and contented life do live.
Herein the immortal gods forever blest Feel endless joys and undisturbed rest.
The gods, who have themselves no cause to grieve, For wretched man a web of sorrow weave.
(Ibid. vi. 138; "Odyssey," vi. 46; "Iliad," xxiv, 526.)
For these argue sound and true opinions of the gods; but those other were only feigned to raise passions in men. Again, when Euripides speaks at this rate,-- The gods are better than we men by far, And yet by them we oft deceived are,-- may do well to quote him elsewhere against himself where he says better,-- If gods do wrong, surely no gods there are.
So also, when Pindar, saith bitterly and keenly, No law forbids us anything to do, Whereby a mischief may befall a foe, tell him: But, Pindar, thou thyself sayest elsewhere, The pleasure which injurious acts attends Always in bitter consequences ends.
And when Sophocles speaks thus, Sweet is the gain, wherein to lie and cheat Adds the repute of wit to what we get, tell him: But we have heard thee say far otherwise, When the account's cast up, the gain's but poor Which by a lying tongue augments the store.
And as to what he saith of riches, to wit:-- Wealth, where it minds to go, meets with no stay; For where it finds not, it can make a way; Many fair offers doth the poor let go, And lose his talent because his purse is low; The fair tongue makes, where wealth can purchase it, The foul face beautiful, the fool a wit:-- against this the reader may set in opposition divers other sayings of the same author. For example, From honor poverty doth not debar, Where poor men virtuous and deserving are.
Whate'er fools think, a man is ne'er the worse If he be wise, though with an empty purse.
The comfort which he gets who wealth enjoys, The vexing care by which 'tis kept destroys.
And Menander also somewhere magnifies a voluptuous life, and inflames the minds of vain persons with these amorous strains, The glorious sun no living thing doth see, But what's a slave to love as well as we.
But yet elsewhere, on the other side, he fastens on us and pulls us back to the love of virtue, and checks the rage of lust, when he says thus, The life that is dishonorably spent, Be it ne'er so pleasant, yields no true content.
For these lines are contrary to the former, as they are also better and more profitable; so that by comparing them considerately one cannot but either be inclined to the better side, or at least flag in the belief of the worse.
But now, supposing that any of the poets themselves afford no such correcting passages to solve what they have said amiss, it will then be advisable to confront them with the contrary sayings of other famous men, and therewith to sway the scales of our judgment to the better side. As, when Alexis tempts to debauchery in these verses, The wise man knows what of all things is best, Whilst choosing pleasure he slights all the rest.
He thinks life's joys complete in these three sorts, To drink and eat, and follow wanton sports; And what besides seems to pretend to pleasure, If it betide him, counts it over measure, we must remember that Socrates said the contrary, to wit: that they are bad men who live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and drink that they may live. And against the man that wrote in this manner, He that designs to encounter with a knave, An equal stock of knavery must have, seeing he herein advises us to follow other vicious examples, that of Diogenes may well be returned, who being asked by what means a man might revenge himself upon his enemy, answered, By becoming himself a good and honest man. And the same Diogenes may be quoted also against Sophocles, who, writing of the sacred mysteries, caused great grief and despair to multitudes of men:-- Most happy they whose eyes are blest to see The mysteries which here contained be, Before they die! For only they have joy.
In th' other world; the rest all ills annoy.
This passage being read to Diogenes, What then! says he, shall the condition of Pataecion, the notorious robber, after death be better than that of Epaminondas, merely for his being initiated in these mysteries?
In like manner, when one Timotheus on the theatre, singing of the Goddess Diana, called her furious, raging, possessed, mad, Cinesias suddenly interrupted him, May thy daughter, Timotheus, be such a goddess! And witty also was that of Bion to Theognis, who said,-- One cannot say nor do, if poor he be; His tongue is bound to th' peace, as well as he.
("Theognis," vss. 177, 178.)
How comes it to pass then, said he, Theognis that thou thyself being so poor pratest and gratest our ears in this manner?
Nor are we to omit, in our reading those hints which, from some other words or phrases bordering on those that offend us, may help to rectify our apprehensions. But as physicians use cantharides, believing that, though their bodies be deadly poison, yet their feet and wings are medicinal and are antidotes to the poison itself, so must we deal with poems. If any noun or verb near at hand may assist to the correction of any such saying, and preserve us from putting a bad construction upon it, we should take hold of it and employ it to assist a more favorable interpretation. As some do in reference to those verses of Homer,-- Sorrows and tears most commonly are seen To be the gods' rewards to wretched men:-- The gods, who have no cause themselves to grieve, For wretched man a web of sorrow weave.
("Odyssey," iv. 197; "Iliad," xxiv. 526.)
For, they say, he says not of men simply, or of all men, that the gods weave for them the fatal web of a sorrowful life, but he affirms it only of foolish and imprudent men, whom, because their vices make them such, he therefore calls wretched and miserable.
Another way whereby those passages which are suspicious in poets maybe transferred to a better sense may be taken from the ordinary use of words, which a young man ought indeed to be more exercised in than in the use of strange and obscure terms. For it will be a point of philology which it will not be unprofitable to him to understand, that when he meets with [Greek omitted] in a poet, that word means an EVIL DEATH; for the Macedonians use the word [Greek omitted] to signify DEATH. So the Aeolians call victory gotten by patient endurance of hardships [Greek omitted] and the Dryopians call daemons [Greek omitted].
But of all things it is most necessary, and no less profitable if we design to receive profit and not hurt from the poets, that we understand how they make use of the names of gods, as also of the terms of Evil and Good; and what they mean by Soul and Fate; and whether these words be always taken by them in one and the same sense or rather in various senses, as also many other words are. For so the word [Greek omitted] sometimes signifies a MATERIAL HOUSE, as, Into the high-roofed house; and sometimes ESTATE, as, My house is devoured. So the word [Greek omitted] sometimes signifies life, and sometimes wealth. And [Greek omitted] is sometimes taken for being uneasy and disquieted in mind, as in [Greek omitted] ("Iliad," v. 352.)
and elsewhere for boasting and rejoicing, as in [Greek omitted] ("Odyssey," xviii. 333.)
In like manner [Greek omitted] signifies either to MOVE, as in Euripides when he saith, [Greek omitted]-- or TO SIT, as in Sophocles when he writes thus, [Greek omitted] (Sophocles, "Oedipus Tyranus," 2.)
It is elegant also when they fit to the present matter, as grammarians teach, the use of words which have another signification. As here:-- [Greek omitted] For here [Greek omitted] signifies TO PRAISE (instead of [Greek omitted]), and TO PRAISE is used for TO REFUSE. So in conversation it is common with us to say, [Greek omitted], IT IS WELL (i.e., NO, I THANK YOU), and to bid anything FAREWELL [Greek omitted]; by which forms of speech we refuse a thing which we do not want, or receive it not, but still with a civil compliment. So also some say that Proserpina is called [Greek omitted] in the notion of [Greek omitted], TO BE DEPRECATED, because death is by all men shunned.
And the like distinction of words we ought to observe also in things more weighty and serious. To begin with the gods, we should teach our youth that poets, when they use the names of gods, sometimes mean properly the Divine Beings so called, but otherwhiles understand by those names certain powers of which the gods are the donors and authors, they having first led us into the use of them by their own practice. As when Archilochus prays, King Vulcan, hear thy suppliant, and grant That what thou'rt wont to give and I to want, it is plain that he means the god himself whom he invokes. But when elsewhere he bewails the drowning of his sister's husband, who had not obtained lawful burial, and says, Had Vulcan his fair limbs to ashes turned, I for his loss had with less passion mourned, he gives the name of Vulcan to the fire and not to the Deity. Again, Euripides, when he says, No; by the glorious stars I swear, And bloody Mars and Jupiter, (Euripides, "Phoenissae," 1006.)
means the gods themselves who bare those names. But when Sophocles saith, Blind Mars doth mortal men's affairs confound, As the swine's snout doth quite deface the ground, we are to understand the word Mars to denote not the god so called, but war. And by the same word we are to understand also weapons made of hardened brass, in those verses of Homer, These, are the gallant men whose noble blood Keen Mars did shed near swift Scamander's flood.
("Iliad," vii. 329.)
Wherefore, in conformity to the instances given, we must conceive and bear in mind that by the names of Jupiter also sometimes they mean the god himself, sometimes Fortune, and oftentimes also Fate. For when they say,-- Great Jupiter, who from the lofty hill Of Ida govern'st all the world at will; ("Iliad," iii. 276.)
That wrath which hurled to Pluto's gloomy realm The souls of mighty chiefs:-- Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove; (Ibid. i. 3 and 5.)
For who (but who himself too fondly loves) Dares lay his wisdom in the scale with Jove's?-- they understand Jupiter himself. But when they ascribe the event of all things done to Jupiter as the cause, saying of him,-- Many brave souls to hell Achilles sent, And Jove's design accomplished in th' event,-- they mean by Jove no more but Fate. For the poet doth not conceive that God contrives mischief against mankind, but he soundly declares the mere necessity of the things themselves, to wit, that prosperity and victory are destined by Fate to cities and armies and commanders who govern themselves with sobriety, but if they give way to passions and commit errors, thereby dividing and crumbling themselves into factions, as those of whom the poet speaks did, they do unhandsome actions, and thereby create great disturbances, such as are attended with sad consequences.
For to all unadvised acts, in fine, The Fates unhappy issues do assign.
(From Euripides.)
But when Hesiod brings in Prometheus thus counselling his brother Epimetheus, Brother, if Jove to thee a present make, Take heed that from his hands thou nothing take, (Hesiod, "Works and Days," 86.)
he useth the name of Jove to express Fortune; for he calls the good things which come by her (such as riches, and marriages, and empires, and indeed all external things the enjoyment whereof is profitable to only them who know how to use them well) the gifts of Jove. And therefore he adviseth Epimetheus (an ill man, and a fool withal) to stand in fear of and to guard himself from prosperity, as that which would be hurtful and destructive to him.
Again, where he saith, Reproach thou not a man for being poor; His poverty's God's gift, as is thy store, (Hesiod "Works and Days," 717.)
he calls that which befalls men by Fortune God's gift, and intimates that it is an unworthy thing to reproach any man for that poverty which he falls into by Fortune, whereas poverty is then only a matter of disgrace and reproach when it is attendant on sloth and idleness, or wantonness and prodigality. For, before the name of Fortune was used, they knew there was a powerful cause, which moved irregularly and unlimitedly and with such a force that no human reason could avoid it; and this cause they called by the names of gods. So we are wont to call divers things and qualities and discourses, and even men themselves, divine. And thus may we rectify many such sayings concerning Jupiter as would otherwise seem very absurd. As these, for instance:-- Before Jove's door two fatal hogsheads, filled With human fortunes, good and bad luck yield.-- Of violated oaths Jove took no care, But spitefully both parties crushed by war:-- To Greeks and Trojans both this was the rise Of Mischief, suitable to Jove's device.
("Iliad," xxiv. 527; vii. 69; "Odyssey," viii. 81.)
These passages we are to interpret as spoken concerning Fortune or Fate, of the casuality of both which no account can be given by us, nor do their effects fall under our power. But where anything is said of Jupiter that is suitable, rational, and probable, there we are to conceive that the names of that god is used properly. As in these instances:-- Through others' ranks he conquering did range, But shunned with Ajax any blows t' exchange; But Jove's displeasure on him he had brought, Had he with one so much his better fought.
("Iliad," xi. 540.)
For though great matters are Jove's special care, Small things t' inferior daemons trusted are.
And other words there are which the poets remove and translate from their proper sense by accommodation to various things, which deserve also our serious notice. Such a one, for instance, is [Greek omitted], VIRTUE. For because virtue does not only render men prudent, just, and good, both in their words and deeds, but also oftentimes purchaseth to them honor and power, therefore they call likewise these by that name. So we are wont to call both the olive-tree and the fruit [Greek omitted], and the oak-tree and its acorn [Greek omitted] communicating the name of the one to the other. Therefore, when our young man reads in the poets such passages as these,-- This law th' immortal gods to us have set, That none arrive at virtue but by sweat; (Hesiod, "Works and Days," 289.)
The adverse troops then did the Grecians stout By their mere virtue profligate and rout; ("Iliad," xi. 90.)
If now the Fates determined have our death, To virtue we'll consign our parting breath;-- let him presently conceive that these things are spoken of that most excellent and divine habit in us which we understand to be no other than right reason, or the highest attainment of the reasonable nature, and most agreeable to the constitution thereof. And again, when he reads this, Of virtue Jupiter to one gives more, And lessens, when he lifts, another's store; and this, Virtue and honor upon wealth attend; (Ibid. xx. 242; Hesiod "Works and Days," 313.)
let him not sit down in an astonishing admiration of rich men, as if they were enabled by their wealth to purchase virtue, nor let him imagine that it is in the power of Fortune to increase or lessen his own wisdom; but let him conceive that the poet by virtue meant either glory or power or prosperity or something of like import. For poets use the same ambiguity also in the word [Greek omitted], EVIL, which sometimes in them properly signifies a wicked and malicious disposition of mind, as in that of Hesiod, Evil is soon acquired; for everywhere There's plenty on't and t'all men's dwellings near; (Hesiod, "Works and Days," 287.)
and sometimes some evil accident or misfortune, as when Homer says, Sore evils, when they haunt us in our prime, Hasten old age on us before our time.
("Odyessy," xix. 360.)
So also in the word [Greek omitted], he would be sorely deceived who should imagine that, wheresoever he meets with it in poets, it means (as it does in philosophy) a perfect habitual enjoyment of all good things or the leading a life every way agreeable to Nature, and that they do not withal by the abuse of such words call rich men happy or blessed, and power or glory felicity. For, though Homer rightly useth terms of that nature in this passage,-- Though of such great estates I am possest, Yet with true inward joy I am not blest; (Ibid. iv. 93.)
and Menander in this,-- So great's th' estate I am endowed withal: All say I'm rich, but none me happy call;-- yet Euripides discourseth more confusedly and perplexedly when he writes after this manner,-- I do not want a happy life that is tedious; And, man, why praisest thou Th' unjust beatitude of tyranny?
(Euripides, "Medea," 598; "Phoenissae," 549.)
except, as I said, we allow him the use of these words in a metaphorical and abusive meaning. But enough hath been spoken of these matters.
Nevertheless, this principle is not once only but often to be inculcated and pressed on young men, that poetry when it undertakes a fictitious argument by way of imitation, though it make use of such ornament and illustration as suit the actions and manners treated of, yet disclaims not all likelihood of truth, seeing the force of imitation, in order to the persuading of men, lies in probability. Wherefore such imitation as does not altogether shake hands with truth carries along with it certain signs of virtue and vice mixed together in the actions which it doth represent. And of this nature is Homer's poetry, which totally bids adieu to Stoicism, the principles whereof will not admit any vice to come near where virtue is, nor virtue to have anything to do where any vice lodgeth, but affirms that he that is not a wise man can do nothing well, and he that is so can do nothing amiss. Thus they determine in the schools. But in human actions and the affairs of common life the judgment of Euripides is verified, that Virtue and vice ne'er separately exist, But in the same acts with each other twist.
(From the "Aeolus" of Euripides.)
Next, it is to be observed that poetry, waiving the truth of things, does most labor to beautify its fictions with variety and multiplicity of contrivance. For variety bestows upon fable all that is pathetical, unusual, and surprising, and thereby makes it more taking and graceful; whereas what is void of variety is unsuitable to the nature of fable, and so raiseth no passions at all. Upon which design of variety it is, that the poets never represent the same persons always victorious or prosperous or acting with the same constant tenor of virtue;--yea, even the gods themselves, when they engage in human actions, are not represented as free from passions and errors;--lest, for the want of some difficulties and cross passages, their poems should be destitute of that briskness which is requisite to move and astonish the minds of men.
These things therefore so standing, we should, when we enter a young man into the study of the poets, endeavor to free his mind from that degree of esteem of the good and great personages in them described as may incline him to think them to be mirrors of wisdom and justice, the chief of princes, and the exemplary measures of all virtue and goodness. For he will receive much prejudice, if he shall approve and admire all that comes from such persons as great, if he dislike nothing in them himself, nor will endure to hear others blame them, though for such words and actions as the following passages import:-- Oh! would to all the immortal powers above, Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove!
That not one Trojan might be left alive, And not a Greek of all the race survive.
Might only we the vast destruction shun, And only we destroy the accursed town!
Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries, The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies, Murdered by Clytemnestra's faithless hand: Lie with thy father's whore, my mother said, That she th' old man may loathe; and I obeyed: Of all the gods, O father Jove, there's none Thus given to mischief but thyself alone.
("Iliad," xvi. 97; "Odyssey," xi. 421; "Iliad," ix, 452; Ibid. iii, 365.)
Our young man is to be taught not to commend such things as these, no, nor to show the nimbleness of his wit or subtlety in maintaining argument by finding out plausible colors and pretences to varnish over