Deem then the people’s, not the writer’s, ſin105
Almanzor’s rage and rants of Maximin:
That fury ſpent, in each elaborate piece
He vies for fame with ancient Rome and Greece.[Explanation 1]
Firſt Mulgrave rose, Roſcommon next,[1] like light,
To clear our darkneſs, and to guide our flight;110
With ſteady judgment, and in lofty ſounds,
They gave us patterns, and they ſet us bounds.
The Stagyrite and Horace laid aſide,
Inform’d by them we need no foreign guide:
Who ſeek from poetry a laſting name,115
May in their leſſons learn the road to fame:
But let the bold adventurer be ſure
That ev’ry line the teſt of truth endure:
On this foundation may the fabric riſe,
Firm and unſhaken, till it touch the ſkies.120
From pulpits baniſh’d, from the court, from love,
Forſaken Truth ſeeks ſhelter in the grove:
Cheriſh, ye Muſes! the neglected fair,
And take into your train the abandon’d wanderer.124
- ↑ Mr. Dryden in one of his prologues has theſe two lines:
He ’s bound to pleaſe, not to write well, and knowsFrom whence it is plain, where he has expoſed himſelf to the critics, he was forced to follow the faſhion to humour an audience, and not to pleaſe himſelf: a hard ſacrifice to make for preſent ſubſiſtence, eſpecially for ſuch as would have their writings live as well as themſelves. Nor can the poet whoſe labours are his daily bread be delivered from this cruel neceſſity, unleſs ſome more certain encouragement can be provided than the bare uncertain profits of a third day, and the theatre be put under ſome more impartial management than the juriſdiction of players. Who write to live muſt unavoidably comply with their taſte by whoſe approbation they ſubſiſt; ſome generous prince, or prime miniſter like Richlieu, can only find a remedy. In his epiſtle dedicatory to The Spaniſh Friar, this incomparable poet thus cenſures himſelf:
There is a mode in plays as well as clothes.
“I remember ſome verſes of my own Maximin and Almanzor which cry vengeance upon me for their extravagance, &c. All I can ſay for thoſe paſſages, which are, I hope, not many, is, that I knew they were bad enough to pleaſe even when I wrote them; but I repent of them among my ſins; and if any of their fellows intrude by chance into my preſent writings, I draw a ſtroke over thoſe Dalilahs of the theatre, and am reſolved I will ſettle myself no reputation by the applauſe of fools: it is not that I am mortified to all ambition, but I ſcorn as much to take it from half-witted judges as I ſhould to raiſe an eſtate by cheating of bubbles: neither do I diſcommend the lofty style in tragedy, which is pompous and magnificent; but nothing is truly ſublime that is not juſt and proper.”
This may ſtand as an unanſwerable apology for Mr. Dryden againſt his critics; and likewiſe for an unqueſtionable authority to confirm thoſe principles which the foregoing poem pretends to lay down; for nothing can be juſt and proper but what is built upon truth.
- ↑ Earl of Mulgrave’s Eſſay upon Poetry, and Lord Roſcommon’s upon Tranſlated Verſe.
