The Poetical Works of the Right Hon. George Granville, Lord Lansdowne/29

by George Granville

ESSAY
UPON UNNATURAL FLIGHTS IN POETRY.

As when ſome image of a charming face,
In living paint, an artiſt tries to trace,
He carefully conſults each beauteous line,
Adjuſting to his object his deſign;
We praiſe the piece, and give the painter fame,5
But as the juſt reſemblance ſpeaks the dame.
Poets are limners of another kind,
To copy out ideas in the mind;
Words are the paint by which their thoughts are ſhown;
And Nature ſits, the object to be drawn;10

The written picture we applaud or blame
But as the due proportions are the ſame.
Who driven with ungovernable fire,
Or, void of art, beyond theſe bounds aſpire,
Gigantic forms and monſtrous births alone15
Produce, which Nature, ſhock’d, diſdains to own.
By true reflection I would ſee my face;
Why brings the fool a magnifying-glaſs?
“But Poetry in fiction takes delight,
And, mounting in bold figures out of ſight,20
Leaves truth behind in her audacious flight:
Fables and metaphors that always lie,
And raſh hyperboles that ſoar ſo high,
And every ornament of verſe must die.”^{[Explanation 1]}
Mistake me not; no figures I exclude,25
And but forbid intemperance, not food.
Who would with care ſome happy fiction frame,
So mimics truth, it looks the very ſame;
Not rais’d to force, or feign’d in Nature’s ſcorn,
But meant to grace, illuſtrate, and adorn.30
Important truths ſtill let your fables hold,
And moral myſteries with art unfold.

Ladies and beaus to pleaſe is all the taſk,
But the ſharp critic will inſtruction aſk.
As veils tranſparent cover, but not hide,35
Such metaphors appear when right apply’d;
When thro’ the phraſe we plainly ſee the ſenſe,
Truth, where the meaning ’s obvious, will diſpenſe;
The reader what in reaſon ’s due believes;
Nor can we call that falſe which not deceives.^{[Explanation 2]}40
Hyperboles, ſo daring and ſo bold,
Diſdaining bounds, are yet by rules controll’d:
Above the clouds, but ſtill within our ſight,
They mount with truth, and make a tow’ring flight;

Preſenting things impoſſible to view,45
They wander thro’ incredible to true:
Falſehoods thus mix’d, like metals are refin’d,
And truth, like ſilver, leaves the droſs behind.^{[Explanation 3]}
Thus poetry has ample ſpace to ſoar,
Nor needs forbidden regions to explore;50
Such vaunts as his who can with patience read
Who thus deſcribes his hero ſlain and dead;
“Kill’d as he was, inſenſible of death,
He ſtill fights on, and ſcorns to yield his breath.”^{[Explanation 4][1]}

The noiſy culverin o’ercharg’d, lets fly,55
And burſt unaiming in the rended ſky.
Such frantic flights are like a madman’s dream,
And Nature ſuffers in the wild extreme.
The captive Cannibal, weigh’d down with chains,
Yet braves his foes, reviles, provokes, diſdains;60
Of nature fierce, untameable, and proud,
He grins defiance at the gaping crowd,
And ſpent at last, and ſpeechleſs as he lies,
With looks ſtill threat’ning, mocks their rage and dies.
This is the utmoſt ſtretch that Nature can,65
And all beyond is fulſome, falſe, and vain.
Beauty ’s the theme; ſome nymph divinely fair
Excites the Muſe: let truth be even there:
As painters flatter ſo may poets too,
But to reſemblance muſt be ever true.70
“The day that ſhe was born the Cyprian Queen
Had like t’ have dy’d thro’ envy and thro’ ſpleen;
The Graces in a hurry left the ſkies
To have the honour to attend her eyes;
And Love, deſpairing in her heart a place,75
Would needs take up his lodging in her face.”^{[Explanation 5][2]}

Tho’ wrote by great Corneille, ſuch lines as theſe,
Such civil nonſenſe, ſure could never pleaſe.
Waller the beſt of all th’ inſpired train
To melt the fair inſtructs the dying ſwain.80

The Roman wit,^[3] who impiouſly divides
His hero and his gods to different ſides,
I would condemn, but that, in ſpite of ſenſe,
Th’ admiring world ſtill ſtands in his defence.^{[Explanation 6]}
How oft, alas! the beſt of men in vain85
Contend for bleſſings which the worſt obtain?
The gods permitting traitors to ſucceed
Become not parties in an impious deed,
And by the tyrant’s murder we may find
That Cato and the gods were of a mind.90

Thus forcing truth with ſuch prepoſt’rous praiſe,
Our characters we leſſen when we ’d raiſe;
Like caſtles built by magic art in air,
That vaniſh at approach, ſuch thoughts appear;
But rais’d on truth by ſome judicious hand,95
As on a rock they ſhall for ages ſtand.
Our King return’d,^[4] and baniſh’d Peace reſtor’d;
The Muſe ran mad to ſee her exil’d;

On the crack’d ſtage the bedlam heroes roar’d,
And ſcarce could ſpeak one reaſonable word:100
Dryden himſelf, to pleaſe a frantic age,
Was forc’d to let his judgment ſtoop to rage;
To a wild audience he conform’d his voice,
Comply’d to cuſtom, but not err’d by choice.

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 7]}
Firſt Mulgrave rose, Roſcommon next,^[5] 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

Explanation

1. The poetic world is nothing but fiction; Parnaſſus, Pegaſus, and the Muſes, pure imagination and chimera: but being however a ſyſtem univerſally agreed on, all that has or may be contrived or invented upon this foundation according to Nature ſhall be reputed as truth; but whatſoever ſhall diminiſh from, or exceed the juſt proportions of, Nature ſhall be rejected as falſe, and paſs for extravagance, as dwarfs and giants for monſters.
2. When Homer, mentioning Achilles, terms him a Lion, this is a metaphor, and the meaning is obvious and true, though the literal sense be falſe, the poet intending thereby to give his reader ſome idea of the ſtrength and fortitude of his hero. Had he ſaid that wolf, or that bear, this had been falſe, by preſenting an image not conformable to the nature and character of a hero, &c.
3. Hyperboles are of diverſe ſorts, and the manner of introducing them is different: ſome are, as it were, naturalized and eſtabliſhed by a cuſtomary way of expreſſion; as when we ſay ſuch a one is as ſwift as the wind, whiter than ſnow, or the like. Homer, ſpeaking of Nereus, calls him beauty itſelf; Martial of Zoilus, lewdneſs itſelf. Such hyperboles lie indeed, but deceive us not; and therefore Seneca terms them lies that readily conduct our imagination to truths, and have an intelligible ſignification, though the expreſſion be ſtrained beyond credibility. Cuſtom has likewiſe familiarized another way for hyperboles, for example, by irony; as when we ſay of ſome infamous woman ſhe is a civil perſon, where the meaning is to be taken quite oppoſite to the letter. These few figures are mentioned only for example ſake; it will be underſtood that all others are to be uſed with the like care and diſcretion.
4. I needed not to have travelled ſo far for an extravagant flight; I remember one of Britiſh growth of the like nature:
   
   See thoſe dead bodies hence convey’d with care,
   Life may perhaps return—with change of air.
   But I chuſe rather to correct gently, by foreign examples, hoping that ſuch as are conſcious of the like exceſſes will take the hint, and ſecretly reprove themſelves. It may be poſſible for ſome tempers to maintain rage and indignation to the laſt gaſp; but the ſoul and body once parted, there muſt neceſſarily be a determination of action.
   
   Quodcunque oftendis mihi ſic incredulus odi.
   I cannot forbear quoting, on this occaſion, as an example for the preſent purpoſe, two noble lines of Jaſper Main’s, in the collection of the Oxford Verſes printed in the year 1643, upon the death of my grandfather Sir Bevil Granville, ſlain in the heat of action at the battle of Lanſdowne. The poet, after having deſcribed the fight, the ſoldiers, animated by the example oftheirleader, and enraged at his death, thus concludes,
   
   Thus he being ſlain, his action fought anew,
   And the dead conquer’d whilſt the living ſlew.
   This is agreeable to truth, and within the compaſs of nature: it is thus only that the dead can act.
5. Le jour qu’elle naquit, Venus bien qu’ immortelle,
   Penſa mourir de honte, en la voyant ſi belle,
   Les Graces a l’envi deſcendireni des cieux
   Pour avoir l’honeur d’accompagner ſes yeux;
   Et ’Amour, qui ne put entrer dans ſon courage,
   Voulut obſtinement loger ſur ſon viſage.
   This is a lover’s deſcription of his miſtreſs by the great Corneille; civil; to be ſure, and polite as any thing can be. Let any body turn over Waller, and he will ſee how much more naturally and delicately the Engliſh author treats the article of love than this celebrated Frenchman. I would not however be thought, by any derogatory quotation, to take from the merit of a writer whoſe reputation is ſo univerſally and ſo juſtly eſtabliſhed in all nations; but, as I ſaid before, I rather chuſe, where any failings are to be found, to correct my own countrymen by foreign examples, than to provoke them by inſtances drawn from their own writings, humanum eſt errare. I cannot forbear one quotation more from another celebrated French author. It is an epigram upon a monument for Francis I. King of France, by way of queſtion and answer, which in Engliſh is verbatim thus,
   
   Under this marble who lies buried here?
   Francis the Great, a king beyond compare.
   Why has ſo great a king ſo ſmall a ſtone?
   Of that great king here ’s but the heart alone.
   Then of this conqueror here lies but part?
   No—here he lies all—for he was all heart.
   The author was a Gaſcon, to whom I can properly oppoſe no body ſo well as a Welchman; for which purpoſe I am farther furniſhed from the fore-mentioned collection of Oxford Verſes, with an epigram by Martin Lluellin upon the ſame ſubject, which I remember to have heard often repeated to me when I was a boy. Beſides, from whence can we draw better examples than from the very ſeat and nurſery of the Muſes?
   
   Thus ſlain, thy valiant anceſtor^[1] did lie,
   When his one bark a navy did defy;
   When now encompaſs’d round he victor ſtood,
   And bath’d his pinnace in his conqu’ring blood,
   Till all the purple current dry’d and ſpent,
   He fell, and made the waves his monument.
   Where ſhall the next fam’d Granville’s aſhes ſtand?
   Thy grandſire’s fill the ſea, and thine the land.
   I cannot ſay the two laſt lines in which conſiſts the ſting or point of the epigram, are ſtrictly conformable to the rule herein ſet down: the word aſhes, metaphorically, can ſignify nothing but fame, which is mere ſound, and can fill no ſpace either of land or ſea: the Welchman however muſt be allowed to have outdone the Gaſcon. The fallacy of the French epigram appears at firſt ſight; but the Engliſh ſtrikes the fancy, ſuſpends and dazzles the judgment, and may perhaps be allowed to paſs under the ſhelter of those daring hyperboles which, by preſenting an obvious meaning, make their way, according to Seneca, through the incredible to true.
6. Victrix cauſa Deis placuit, ſed victa Catoni.
   The conſent of ſo many ages having eſtabliſhed the reputation of this line, it may perhaps be preſumption to attack it; but it is not to be ſuppoſed that Cato, who is deſcribed to have been a man of rigid morals and ſtrict devotion, more reſembling the gods than men, would have choſen any party in oppoſition to thoſe gods whom he profeſſed to adore. The poet would give us to underſtand, that his hero was too righteous a perſon to accompany the divinities themſelves in an unjuſt cauſe; but to repreſent a mortal man to be either wiſer or juſter than the Deity, may ſhew the impiety of the writer, but add nothing to the merit of the hero; neither reaſon nor religion will allow it; and it is impoſſible for a corrupt being to be more excellent than a divine; ſucceſs implies permiſſion, and not approbation; to place the gods always on the thriving ſide, is to mate them partakers of all ſucceſsful wickedneſs: to judge rght, we muſt wait tor the concluſion of the action; the cataſtrophe will beſt decide on which side is Providence; and the violent death of Cæſar acquits the gods from being companions of his uſurpation.
   Lucan was a determined Republican, no wonder he was a Free-thinker.
7. Mr. Dryden in one of his prologues has theſe two lines:
   
   He ’s bound to pleaſe, not to write well, and knows
   There is a mode in plays as well as clothes.
   From 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:
   

   “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.

1. ↑  Sir Richard Granville, Vice-admiral of England, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, maintained a fight with his ſingle ſhip againſt the whole armada of Spain, conſiſting of fifty-three of their beſt men of war.

1. Arioſto.
2. Corneille.
3. Lucan.
4. King Charles II.
5. Earl of Mulgrave’s Eſſay upon Poetry, and Lord Roſcommon’s upon Tranſlated Verſe.