Chapter X: Part III (5)

Horace, with this writer’s leave, might therefore judge it better to retain the Atellanes under some restrictions, than adopt what was much worse. But the mimes of Laberius were quite another thing. They were all elegance. So J. Scaliger [Comment, de Comœd. et Tragœd. c. vi.] and, after him, this writer, tells us; but on no better grounds, than that he wrote good Latin (though not always that, as may be seen in A. Gellius, l. xvi. c. 7.) and hath left a few elegant, moral scraps behind him. But what then? the kind of composition was ridiculous and absurd, and, in every view, far less tolerable, than the _satyrs_ under the regulation of Horace. The latter was a regular drama, consisting of an intire fable, conducted according to the rules of probability and good sense, only dashed with a little extravagance for the sake of the mob. The character of the former hath been given above from unquestionable authorities. Accordingly Diomedes [iii. p. 488. ed. Putsch.] defines it to be _an irreverent and lascivious imitation of obscene acts_—_mimus est sermonis cujuslibet motus sine reverentia, vel factorum et turpium cum lascivia imitatio_. And Scaliger himself owns _veri mimi proprium esse quædam sordida ut affectet_, loc. cit. It seems, in short, to have been a confused medley of comic drollery on a variety of subjects, without any consistent order or design; delivered by one actor, and heightened with all the licence of obscene gesticulation. Its best character, as practised by its greatest master, Laberius, was that of being witty in a very bad way [Sen. Controv. l. iii. c. 18.] and its sole end and boast, _risu diducere rictum_ [Hor. i. S. x. 7.] which, whatever virtue it may be, is not always a proof of much elegance. But I have spent too many words on a criticism, which the ingenious author, I am persuaded, let fall unawares, and did not mean to give us as the result of a mature and well-weighed deliberation on this subject.

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225. VERUM ITA RISORES, &c.] The connecting particle, _verum_, expresses the opposition intended between the original satyr and that which the poet approves. For having insinuated the propriety of the satyric shews, as well from the practice of Greece, as the nature of festival solemnities, the poet goes on to animadvert on their defects, and to prescribe such rules, in the conduct of them, as might render them a tolerable diversion, even to the better sort. This introduction of the subject hath no small art. For, there being at this time (as hath been shewn) an attempt to bring in the Greek satyrs, while the Atellane plays (as was likely) still held the affections of the people, the poet was not openly to reproach and discredit these; but, by a tacit preference, to support and justify the other. This is done with address. For, instead of criticising the Atellanes, which came directly in his way, after having closed his account of the Roman tragedy, he relates, as it were, incidentally, the practice of ancient Greece in exhibiting satyrs, and thence immediately passes on, without so much as touching on the other favourite entertainment, to offer some directions concerning the satyric drama.

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227. NE QUICUNQUE DEUS, QUICUNQUE ADHIBEBITUR HEROS, &c.] Gods and Heroes were introduced as well into the satyric as tragic drama, and often the very same Gods and Heroes, which had born a part in the preceding tragedy: a practice, which Horace, I suppose, intended, by this hint, to recommend as most regular. This gave the serious, tragic air to the satyr. The comic arose from the _risor_ and _dicax_, who was either a satyr himself, or some character of an extravagant, ridiculous cast, like a satyr. Of this kind, says Diomedes, from whom I take this account, are Autolychus and Burris: which last particular I mention for the sake of justifying a correction of the learned Casaubon. This great critic conjectured, that, instead of _Burris_, in this place, it should be read _Busiris_. His reason is “_nam Burris iste ex Græcorum poetis mihi non notus_:” which reason hath more force, than appears at first sight. For the very nature of this diversion required, that the principal character of it should be well known, which it was scarce likely to be, if not taken from a common story in their poets. But Vossius objects, “_sed non ea fuerit persona ridicula_:” contrary to what the grammarian represents it. But how so? Busiris was a savage, inhospitable tyrant, who sacrificed strangers. And what should hinder this character from being made ridiculous, as well as Polypheme in the Cyclops? Their characters were not unlike. And, as is seen in that case, the ancients knew to set forth such monsters of cruelty in a light, that rendered them equally absurd and detestable. This was agreeable to their humanity, which, by such representations, loved to cultivate a spirit of benevolence in the spectators; and shews the moral tendency of even the absurdest of the ancient dramatic shews. The objection of Vossius is then of no weight. But what further confirms the emendation of the excellent Casaubon, is a manuscript note on the margin of a printed copy of this book[23], which I have now by me, as it should seem, from his own hand, “_lectionem vero quam restituimus etiam in optimo codice Puteano postea invenimus_.” The learned reader will therefore, henceforth, look upon the text of _Diomedes_, in this place, as fully settled.

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229. MIGRET IN OBSCURAS &c.—AUT, DUM VITAT &c.] The two faults, cautioned against, are 1. a too low, or vulgar expression, in the comic parts; and 2. a too sublime one, in the tragic. The _former_ of these faults would almost naturally adhere to the first essays of the Roman satyrs, from the buffoon genius of the old Atellane: and the _latter_, from not apprehending the true measure and degree of the tragic mixture. To correct both these, the poet gives the exactest idea of the satyrs, in the image of a Roman matron, sharing in the mirth of a religious festival. The occasion obliged to some freedoms: and yet the dignity of her character demanded a decent reserve.

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234. NON EGO INORNATA &c.] The scope of these lines may be to regulate the satyric style, by the idea of its character, before given, in the allusion to a Roman matron. Conformably to that idea, a plain, unornamented expression [from v. 234 to 236.] must not always be used. The three following lines inforce this general application by example.

If the exact reader find himself dissatisfied with this gloss, which seems the only one, the words, as they now stand, will bear, he may, perhaps, incline to admit the following conjecture, which proposes to read, instead of _inornata_, _honorata_. I. The context, I think, requires this change. For the two faults observed above [v. 229, 30.] were, 1. a too low expression, and, 2. a too lofty. Corresponding to this double charge, the poet having fixed the idea of this species of composition [v. 231, 2, 3.] should naturally be led to apply it to both points in questions: 1. to the comic part, in prescribing the true measure of its condescension, and, 2. to the tragic, in settling the true bounds of its elevation. And this, according to the reading here offered, the poet doth, only in an inverted order. The sense of the whole would be this,

1. _Non ego_ HONORATA _et dominantia nomina solum
Verbaque, Pisones, satyrorum scriptor amabo_:

_i. e._ in the tragic scenes, I would not confine myself to such words only, as are in honour, and bear rule in tragic, and the most serious subjects; this stateliness not agreeing to the condescending levity of the satyr.

2. _Nec sic enitar tragico differre colori,
Ut nihil intersit Davusne loquatur, et audax
Pythias, emuncto lucrata Simone talentum,
An custos famulusque Dei Silenus alumni._

_i. e._ nor, on the contrary, in the comic scenes, would I incur the other extreme of a too plain, and vulgar expression, this as little suiting its inherent matronlike dignity. But, II. this correction improves the _expression_ as well as the _sense_. For besides the opposition, implied in the disjunctive, _nec_, which is this way restored, _dominantia_ hath now its genuine sense, and not that strange and foreign one forced upon it out of the Greek language. As connected with _honorata_, it becomes a metaphor, elegantly pursued; and hath too a singular propriety, the poet here speaking of figurative terms. And then, for _honorata_ itself, it seems to have been a familiar mode of expression with Horace. Thus [2 Ep. ii. 112.] _honore indigna vocabula_ are such words as have _parum splendoris_ and are _sine pondere_. And “_quæ sunt in honore vocabula_” is spoken of the contrary ones, such as are fit to enter into a serious tragic composition, in this very epistle, v. 71.

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240. EX NOTO FICTUM &c.] This precept [from v. 240 to 244] is analogous to that, before given [v. 129] concerning tragedy. It directs to form the satyrs out of a known subject. The reasons are, in general, the same for both. Only one seems peculiar to the satyrs. For the cast of them being necessarily romantic, and the persons, those fantastic beings, called satyrs, the τὸ ὅμοιον, or probable, will require the subject to have gained a popular belief, without which the representation must appear unnatural. Now these subjects, which have gained a popular belief, in consequence of old tradition, and their frequent celebration in the poets, are what Horace calls _nota_; just as newly invented subjects, or, which comes to the same thing, such as had not been employed by other writers, _indicta_, he, on a like occasion, terms _ignota_. The connexion lies thus. Having mentioned _Silenus_ in v. 239, one of the commonest characters in this drama, an objection immediately offers itself; “but what good poet will engage in subjects and characters so trite and hackney’d?” The answer is, _ex noto fictum carmen sequar_, i. e. however trite and well known this and some other characters, essential to the satyr, are, and must be; yet will there be still room for fiction and genius to shew itself. The conduct and disposition of the play may be wholly new, and above the ability of common writers, _tantum series juncturaque pollet_.

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244. SYLVIS DEDUCTI CAVEANT &c.] Having before [v. 232] settled the true idea of the satyric style in general, he now treats of the peculiar language of the satyrs themselves. This common sense demands to be in conformity with their sylvan character, neither affectedly tender and gallant, on the one hand; nor grossly and offensively obscene, on the other. The _first_ of these cautions seems leveled at a false improvement, which, on the introduction of the Roman satyr, was probably attempted on the simple, rude plan of the Greek, without considering the rustic extraction and manners of the fauns and satyrs. The _latter_, obliquely glances at the impurities of the Atellane, whose licentious ribaldry, as hath been observed, would, of course, infect the first essays of the Roman satyr.

But these rules so necessary to be followed in the _satyric_, are (to observe it by the way) still more essential to the PASTORAL poem: the fortunes and character of which (though numberless volumes have been written upon it) may be given in few words.

The prodigious number of writings, called Pastoral, which have been current in all times, and in all languages, shews there is something very taking in this poem. And no wonder, since it addresses itself to THREE leading principles in human nature, THE LOVE OF EASE, THE LOVE OF BEAUTY, and THE MORAL SENSE: such pieces as these being employed in representing to us the TRANQUILLITY, the INNOCENCE, and the SCENERY, of the rural life. But though these ideas are of themselves agreeable, good sense will not be satisfied unless they appear to have some foundation in truth and nature. And even, then, their impression will be but faint, if they are not, further, employed to _convey instruction_, or _interest the heart_.

Hence the different _forms_, under which this poem hath appeared. THEOCRITUS thought it sufficient to give a _reality_ to his pictures of the rural manners. But in so doing it was too apparent that his draught would often be coarse and unpleasing. And, in fact, we find that his shepherds, contrary to the poet’s rule,

——_immunda crepent ignominiosaque dicta_.

VIRGIL avoided this extreme. Without departing very widely from the simplicity of rustic nature, his shepherds are more decent, their lives more serene, and, in general, the scene more inviting. But the refinements of his age not well agreeing to these simple delineations, and his views in writing not being merely to _entertain_, he saw fit to allegorize these agreeable fancies, and make them the vehicles of _historical_, and sometimes even of _philosophic_, information.

Our SPENSER wanted to engross all the beauties of his masters: and so, to the artless and too natural drawing of the _Greek_, added the deep allegoric design of the _Latin_, poet.

One easily sees that this ænigmatic cast of the pastoral was meant to give it an air of instruction, and to make it a reasonable entertainment to such as would nauseate a sort of writing,

“Where pure description held the place of sense.”

But this refinement was out of place, as not only inconsistent with the simplicity of the pastoral character, but as tending to rob us in a good degree of the _pleasure_, which these amusing and picturesque poems are intended to give.

Others therefore took another route. The famous TASSO, by an effort of genius which hath done him more honour than even his epic talents, produced a new kind of pastoral, by engrafting it on the drama. And under this form, pastoral poetry became all the vogue. The charming AMINTAS was even commented by the greatest scholars and critics. It was read, admired, and imitated by all the world.

There is no need to depreciate the fine copies that were taken of it, in Italy. But those by our own poets were, by far, the best. SHAKESPEARE had, indeed, set the example of something like pastoral dramas, in our language; and in his _Winter’s Tale_, _As ye like it_, and some other of his pieces, has enchanted every body with his natural sylvan manners, and sylvan scenes. But FLETCHER set himself, in earnest, to emulate the Italian, yet still with an eye of reverence towards the English, poet. In his _faithful shepherdess_ he surpasses the _former_, in the variety of his paintings and the beauty of his scene; and only falls short of the _latter_, in the truth of manners, and a certain original grace of invention which no imitation can reach. The fashion was now so far established, that every poet of the time would try his hand at a pastoral. Even surly BEN, though he found no precedent for it among his ancients, was caught with the beauty of this novel drama, and, it must be owned, has written above himself in the fragment of his _sad shepherd_.—The scene, at length, was closed with the _Comus_ of MILTON, who, in his rural paintings, almost equalled the simplicity and nature of Shakespeare and Fletcher, and, in the purity and splendor of his expression, outdid TASSO.

In this new form of the pastoral, what was childish before, is readily admitted and excused. A simple _moral_ tale being the groundwork of the piece, the charms of description and all the embellishments of the scene are only subservient to the higher purpose of picturing the manners, or touching the heart.

But the good sense of Shakespeare, or perhaps the felicity of his genius, was admirable. Instead of the deep tragic air of Tasso (which has been generally followed) and his continuance of the pastoral strain, even to satiety, through _five_ acts, he only made use of these playful images to enrich his comic scenes. He saw, I suppose, that pastoral subjects were unfit to bear a tragic distress. And besides, when the distress rises to any height, the wantonness of pastoral imagery grows distasteful. Where as the genius of comedy admits of humbler distresses; and leaves us at leisure to recreate ourselves with these images, as no way interfering with the draught of characters, or the management of a comic tale. But to make up in _surprize_ what was wanting in _passion_, Shakespeare hath, with great judgment, adopted the popular system of Faeries; which, while it so naturally supplies the place of the old sylvan theology, gives a wildness to this sort of pastoral painting which is perfectly inimitable.

In a word; if Tasso had the honour of inventing the _pastoral drama_, properly so called, Shakespeare has shewn us the just application of _pastoral poetry_; which, however amusing to the imagination, good sense will hardly endure, except in a short dialogue, or in some occasional dramatic scenes; and in _these_ only, as it serves to the display of characters and the conduct of the poet’s plot.

And to confirm these observations on pastoral poetry, which may be thought too severe, one may observe that such, in effect, was the judgment passed upon it by that great critic, as well as wit, CERVANTES. He concludes his famous adventures, with a kind of project for his knight and squire _to turn shepherds_: an evident ridicule on the turn of that time for pastoral poems and romances, that were beginning to succeed to their books of heroic knight-errantry. Not, but it contains, also, a fine stroke of _moral criticism_, as implying, what is seen from experience to be too true, that men capable of running into one enthusiasm are seldom cured of it but by some sudden diversion of the imagination, which drives them into another.

In conclusion, the reader will scarcely ask me, why, in this deduction of the history and genius of pastoral poetry, I have taken no notice of what has been written of this kind, in France; which, if it be not the most _unpoetical_ nation in Europe, is at least the most _unpastoral_. Nor is their _criticism_ of this poem much better than their execution. A late writer[24] indeed pronounces M. de Fontenelle’s discourse on pastoral poetry _to be one of the finest pieces of criticism in the world_. For my part, I can only say it is rather more tolerable than his pastorals.

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248. OFFENDENTUR ENIM QUIBUS EST EQUUS ET PATER ET RES.] The poet, in his endeavour to reclaim his countrymen from the _taste obscene_, very politely, by a common figure, represents that as being the _fact_, which he wished to be so. For what reception the rankest obscenities met with on the Roman stage we learn from Ovid’s account of the success of the MIMI:

_Nobilis hos virgo matronaque, virque puerque,
Spectat: et è magnâ parte_ senatus _adest_.
Trist. ii. v. 501.

This, indeed, was not till some time after the date of this epistle. But we may guess from hence what must have been the tendency of the general disposition, and may see to how little effect the poet had laboured to divert the public attention from the _Mimes_ to his reformed _Atellanes_.

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251. SYLLABA LONGA BREVI, &c.] This whole critique on the satyrs concludes with some directions about the Iambic verse. When the commentary asserts, that this metre was common to tragedy and the satyrs, this is not to be taken strictly; the satyrs, in this respect, as in every other, sustaining a sort of intermediate character betwixt tragedy and comedy. For, accurately speaking, their proper measure, as the Grammarians teach, was the Iambic enlivened with the tribrachys. “_Gaudent_ [Victor. l. ii. c. met. Iamb.] _trisyllabo pede et maxime tribrache_.” Yet there was likeness enough to consider this whole affair of the metre under the same head. The Roman dramatic writers were very careless in their versification, which arose, as is hinted, v. 259, from an immoderate and undistinguishing veneration of their old poets.

In conclusion of all that has been delivered on the subject of these _satyrs_, it may be amusing to the learned reader to hear a celebrated French critic express himself in the following manner: “_Les Romains donnoient_ encore le nom de Satyre à une espece de _Piece Pastorale_; qui tenoit, _dit on_ le milieu entre la Tragedie et la Comedie. _C’est tout ce que nous en sçavons._” [_Mem. de l’Hist. des Belles Lett._ tom. xvii. p. 211.]

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264. ET DATA ROMANIS VENIA EST INDIGNA POETIS.] It appears certainly, that what is said here concerning the metre of dramatic poems, was peculiarly calculated for the correction of the Roman negligence, and inaccuracy in this respect. This, if it had not been so expresly told us, would have been seen from the few remaining fragments of the old Latin plays, in which a remarkable carelessness of numbers is observed. This gives a presumption, that, with the like advantage of consulting them, it would also appear, that the rest of the poet’s rules were directed to the same end, and that even such, as are delivered in the most absolute and general form, had a peculiar reference, agreeably to what is here taught of the plan of this poem, to the corresponding defects in the state of the Roman stage.

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270. AT VESTRI PROAVI PLAUTINOS ET NUMEROS ET LAUDAVERE SALES; NIMIUM PATIENTER UTRUMQUE, NE DICAM STULTE, MIRATI;] It hath been thought strange, that Horace should pass so severe a censure on the _wit_ of Plautus, which yet appeared to Cicero so admirable, that he speaks of it as _elegans, urbanum, ingeniosum, facetum_. [De Off. i. 29.] Nor can it be said, that this difference of judgment was owing to the improved delicacy of taste for wit, in the Augustan age, since it doth not appear, that Horace’s own jokes, when he attempts to divert us in this way, are at all better than Cicero’s.

The common answer, so far as it respects the poet, is, I believe, the true one: “that endeavouring to beat down the excessive veneration of the elder Roman poets, and, among the rest (as appears from 2 Ep. i. and A. P. 54.) of Plautus, he censures, without reserve, every the least defect in his writings; though, in general, he agreed with Cicero in admiring him.” But then this was all. For that he was not so over-nice as to dislike Plautus’ wit in the main, and, but in this view, probably had not criticized him at all, I collect from his express approbation of the wit of the old _comedy_; which certainly was not more delicate, than that of _Plautus_.

_ridiculum acri
Fortius et melius magnas plerumque secat res.
Illi, scripta quibus comœdia prisca viris est,
Hoc stabant_, HOC SUNT IMITANDI.
I S. x. 15.

I know, it hath been thought, that, even in this very place, where he censures the wit of Plautus, he directs us _ad Græca exemplaria_, i. e. as his critics understand him, to Aristophanes, and the other writers of the old Comedy; but such a direction in this place, were altogether improper, and the supposition is, besides, a palpable mistake. For the _Græca exemplaria_ are referred to _only_, as models in exact versification, as the tenor of the place fully shews. And what Horace afterwards remarks on the wit of Plautus, in addition to the observations on metre, is a new and distinct criticism, and hath no kind of reference to the preceding direction. But still, as I said, Horace appears no such enemy to the old comic wit, as, without the particular reason assigned, to have so severely condemned it. The difficulty is to account for Cicero’s so peculiar admiration of it, and that a taste, otherwise so exact, as his, should delight in the coarse humour of Plautus, and the old comedy. The case, I believe, was this:

Cicero had imbibed a strong relish of the frank and libertine wit of the old comedy, as best suited to the genius of popular eloquence; which, though it demands to be tempered with some urbanity, yet never attains its end so effectually, as when let down and accommodated, in some certain degree, to the general taste and manners of the people. This Cicero in effect owns, when he tells us, the main end of jesting at the bar [De Orat. ccxl.] is, not to acquire the credit of consummate humour, but to carry the cause, _ut proficiamus aliquid_: that is, _to make an impression on the people_; which is generally, we know, better done by a coarser joke, than by the elegance of refined raillery. And that this was the real ground of Cicero’s preference of the old comedy to the new, may be concluded, not only from the nature of the thing, and his own example (for he was ever reckoned intemperate in his jests, which by no means answer to the elegance of his character) but is certainly collected from what Quintilian, in his account of it, expresly observes of the old comedy, _Nescio an ulla poesis (post Homerum) aut similior sit oratoribus, aut ad oratores faciendos aptior_. The reason, doubtless, was, that _strength_, and _prompt and eloquent freedom_, _Vires et facundissima libertas_, which he had before observed, so peculiarly belonged to it.

And this, I think, will go some way towards clearing an embarrassing circumstance in the history of the Roman learning, which I know not, if any writer hath yet taken notice of. It is, that though Menander and the authors of the new comedy were afterwards admired, as the only masters of the comic drama, yet this does not appear to have been seen, or, at least, so fully acknowledged, by the Roman writers, till after the Augustan age; notwithstanding that the Roman taste was, from that time, visibly declining. The reason, I doubt not, was, that the popular eloquence, which continued, in a good degree of vigour, to that time, participating more of the freedom of the _old_ comic banter, and rejecting, as improper to its end, the refinements of the _new_, insensibly depraved the public taste; which, by degrees only, and not till a studied and cautious declamation had, by the necessary influence of absolute power, succeeded to the liberty of their old oratory, was fully reconciled to the delicacy and strict decorum of Menander’s wit. Even the case of Terence, which, at first sight, might seem to bear hard against it, confirms this account. This poet, struck with the supreme elegance of Menander’s manner, and attempting too soon, before the public taste was sufficiently formed for it, to bring it on the stage, had occasion for all the credit, his noble patrons could give him, to support himself against the popular clamour. What was the object of that _clamour_, we learn from a curious passage in one of his prologues, where his adversary is made to object,

_Quas—fecit—fabulas
Tenui esse oratione et scriptura levi_.
Prol. ad Phorm.

The sense of which is not, as his commentators have idly thought, _that his style was low and trifling_, for this could never be pretended, but _that his dialogue was insipid, and his characters, and, in general, his whole composition, without that comic heightening, which their vitiated tastes required_. This further appears from those common verses of Cæsar, where, characterizing the genius of Terence’s plays, as devoid of this comic spirit, he calls them _lenia scripta_:

LENIBUS _atque utinam_ SCRIPTIS _adjuncta foret vis_
COMICA:

words, which are the clearest comment on the lines in question.

But this famous judgment of Cæsar deserves to be scrutinized more narrowly. For it may be said “that by _vis comica_ I suppose him to mean the comic drollery of the _old_ and _middle_ comedy; whereas it is more probable he meant the elegant but high humour of the best writers of the _new_, particularly of Menander; why else doth he call Terence, “_Dimidiate Menander_?” There is the more force in this objection, because _the elegant but high humour_, here mentioned, is of the truest merit in comedy; and because Menander, of whom the ancients speak so honourably, and whom we only know by their encomiums, may be reasonably thought to have excelled in it. What occurs in answer to it, is this.

1. The Ancients are generally allowed to have had very little of what we now understand by _comic humour_. Lucian is the _first_, indeed the only one, who hath properly left us any considerable specimens of it. And he is almost modern with regard to the writers under consideration. But,

2. That _Menander and the writers of the new comedy did not excel in it_, is probable for these reasons.

1. The most judicious critic of antiquity, when he is purposely considering the excellencies of the Greek comedians, and, what is more, exposing the comparative deficiencies of the Roman, says not a word of it. He thinks, indeed, that _Terence’s_, which yet he pronounces to be most elegant, is but the faintest shadow of the Greek, comedy. But then his reason is, _quod sermo ipse Romanus non recipere videatur illam solis concessam Atticis venerem_. [L. x. 1.] It seems then as if the main defect, which this critic observed in Terence’s comedy, was a want of that inexplicable grace of language, which so peculiarly belonged to the Greeks; a grace of so subtle a nature that even they could only catch it in one dialect—_quando eam ne Græci quidem in alio genere linguæ non obtinuerint_. [Ib.]”

2. Some of Terence’s plays may be almost said to be direct translations from Menander. And the comic humour, supposed in the objection, being of the truest taste, no reason can be imagined why the poet should so industriously avoid to transfuse this last and highest grace into his comedy. Especially since the popular cry against him proceeded from hence, that he was wanting in comic pleasantry; a _want_, which by a stricter attention to this virtue of his great original, supposing Menander to have been possessed of it, he might so easily have supplied. And lest it should be thought he omitted to do this, as not conceiving any thing of this _virtue_, or as not approving it, we find in him, but rarely indeed, some delicate touches, which approach as nearly as any thing in antiquity to this genuine comic humour. Of which kind is that in the _Hecyra_:

_Tum tu igitur nihil adtulisti huc plus unâ sententiâ?_

For these reasons I should suppose that _Menander_ and the writers of the new comedy, from whom Terence copied, had little of this beauty.

But what shall we say then to Cæsar’s _dimidiate Menander_? It refers, I believe, solely to what Quintilian, as we have seen, observed, that, with all his emulation of Attic elegance, he was unable, through the native stubbornness of the Latin tongue, to come up to the Greek comedy. The very text of Cæsar leads to this meaning.

_Tu quoque, tu in summis, ô dimidiate Menander,
Poneris, et merito_, PURI SERMONIS AMATOR.

His excellence consisted in the _purity and urbanity of his expression_, in which praise if he still fell short of his master, the fault was not in him, but the intractability of his language. And in this view Cæsar’s address carries with it the highest _compliment_. Quintilian had said in relation to this point, _Vix levem consequimur umbram_. But Cæsar, in a fond admiration of his merit, cries out,

_Tu quoque_, TU _in summis_, Ô DIMIDIATE MENANDER.

His _censure_ of him is delivered in the following lines:

_Lenibus atque utinam scriptis adjuncta foret vis
Comica, ut æquato virtus polleret honore
Cum Græcis, neque in hâc despectus parte jaceres;
Unum hoc maceror et doleo tibi deesse, Terenti._

Which, again, gives no countenance to the supposition of Menander’s excelling in _comic humour_. For he does not say, that with the addition of this talent he had equalled _Menander_, but in general, the GREEKS—_æquato virtus polleret honore cum_ GRÆCIS. And this was what occasioned Cæsar’s regret. He wished to see him unite all the merits of the Greek comedy. As far as the Latin tongue would permit, he had shewn himself a master of the elegance of the _new_. What he further required in him was the strong wit and satyr of the _old_. His favourite had then rivalled, in every praise, the Greek writers.

And, if this be admitted, nothing hinders but that by _vis comica_ Cæsar may be understood to mean (how consistently with the admired urbanity of Terence is not the question) the comic pleasantry of the middle or old comedy.

The thing indeed could hardly be otherwise. For Plautus, who chiefly copied, from the _middle_ comedy, had, by the drollery of his wit, and the buffoon pleasantry of his scenes, so enchanted the people as to continue the reigning favourite of the stage, even long after Afranius and Terence had appeared on it. Nay the humour continued through the Augustan age[25], when, as we learn from Horace, in many parts of his writings, the public applause still followed Plautus; in whom though himself could see many faults, yet he does not appear to have gone so far, as, upon the whole, to give the preference to Terence. Afterwards indeed the case altered. Paterculus admires; and Plutarch and Quintilian are perfectly charmed: _ita omnem vitæ imaginem expressit, ita est omnibus rebus, personis, affectibus accommodatus_. This character, one would think, should have fitted him also for a complete model to the orator. And this, as might be expected, was Quintilian’s opinion. For, though he saw, as appears from the passage already quoted, that the writers of the old comedy were, in fact, _the likest to orators, and the most proper to form them to the practice of the Forum_, yet, in admiration of the absolute perfection of Menander’s manner, and criticising him by the rules of a just and accurate rhetoric, and not at all in the views of a practical orator, he pronounces him to be a complete pattern of oratorial excellence: _vel unus, diligenter lectus, ad cuncta efficienda sufficiat_, l. x. c. 1. Yet Cicero, it seems, thought otherwise; for he scarcely, as I remember, mentions the name of Menander in his rhetorical books, though he is very large in commending the authors of the old Greek comedy. The reason was unquestionably that we have been explaining: The delicate observance of decorum, for which this poet was so famous, _in omnibus mire custoditur ab hoc poeta decorum_, rendered him an unfit model for a popular speaker, especially in Rome, where an orator was much more likely to carry his point by the _vis comica_, the _broader mirth_ of Aristophanes, or Plautus, than by the delicate railleries, and exquisite paintings of Menander, or Terence.

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273. SI MODO EGO ET VOS SCIMUS INURBANUM LEPIDO SEPONERE DICTO.] It was very late ere the ancients became acquainted with this distinction. Indeed it does not appear, they ever possessed it in that supreme degree, which might have been expected from their exquisite discernment in other instances. Even Horace himself, though his pictures of life are commonly the most delicate, and wrought up in the highest beauty of humour, yet, when he affects the _plaisant_, and purposely aims at the comic style and manner, is observed to sink beneath himself extremely. The truth is, there is something low, and what the French call _grossier_, in the whole cast of ancient wit; which is rather a kind of rude, illiberal satire, than a just and temperate ridicule, restrained by the exact rules of civility and good sense. This a celebrated writer, who seems willing to think the most favourably of the ancient wits, in effect owns, when, after quoting certain instances of their raillery, he says, _Ces exemples, quoique vifs et bons en leur genre, ont quëlque chose de trop dur, qui ne s’accommoderoit pas à nôtre maniere de vivre; et ce seroit ce que nous appellons rompre en visiers, que de dire en face des veritez aussi forts que celles-là_. [Rec. de bons Contes et de bons Mots, p. 89.] This rudeness, complained of, appears in nothing more evident, than in their perpetual banter on corporal infirmities, which runs through all the wits both of Greece and Rome. And to shew us, that this was not a practice, they allowed themselves in against rule, Cicero mentions corporal infirmities [De Or. l. ii. c. 59.] as one of the most legitimate sources of the RIDICULOUS. _Est deformitatis et corporis vitiorum satis bella materies._ And in another place, _Valde ridentur etiam imagines, quæ fere in deformitatem, aut in aliquod vitium corporis ducuntur cum similitudine turpioris_, &c. [ib. c. 66.] And this, which is very remarkable, though they saw the absurdity of it, as appears from the answer of Lamia, recorded by Cicero, to a joke of this kind, _Non potui mihi formam ipse fingere_, [ib. c. 65.] The universal prevalence of a practice so absurd in itself, and seen by themselves to be so, in the two politest states of the old world, must needs have sprung from some very _general_, and _powerful_ cause; which, because it hath not, that I know of, been considered by any writer, I shall here attempt to open and explane. The subject is curious, and would require a volume to do it justice. I can only hint at the principal reasons, which appear to me to have been these.

I. _The free and popular government of those states._ This, preserving an equality of condition, and thereby spreading a fearlessness and independency through all ranks and orders of men, of course produced and indulged the utmost freedom of expression, uninfluenced by hopes of favour, and unawed by fear of personal offence; the two sources, from whence the civility of a more cautious ridicule is derived. Now of all the species of raillery, the most natural and _obvious_ to a people unrestrained by these causes, is ever the _coarsest_, such as that on corporal deformities; as appears from its prevailing every where, in all forms of government, among the lowest of the people, betwixt whom those causes never subsist. But this reason involves in it some particulars, which deserve to be considered. 1. The _orators_, who catched it from the constitution themselves, contributed in their turn to forward and help on this disposition to uncivilized mirth. For, the form of their government requiring immediate, and almost continual, applications to the people; and the nature of such applications giving frequent exercise to their wit, it was natural for them to suit it to the capacities of their auditory; if indeed they had seen better themselves. Thus we find the orators in the Forum, even in the later times of the Roman republic, exposing their adversary to the broad mirth of the populace, by enlarging on his _low stature_, _ugly face_, or _distorted chin_. Instances of which may be met with in Cicero’s treatise De oratore; and even, as hath been observed, in some orations and other pieces of Cicero himself. 2. From the _Forum_ the humour insensibly spread amongst all orders, and particularly, amongst the writers for the stage, where it was kept up in its full vigour, or rather heightened to a further extravagance, the laughter of the people being its more immediate and direct aim. But, the stage not only conformed, as of course it would, to the spirit of the times (which, for the reason already given, were none of the most observant of decorum) but, as we shall also find, it had perhaps the greatest influence in _producing and forming that spirit itself_. This will appear, if we recollect, in few words, _the rise, progress, and character of the ancient stage_.

The Greek drama, we know, had its origin from the loose, licentious raillery of the rout of Bacchus, indulging to themselves the freest sallies of taunt and invective, as would best suit to lawless natures, inspirited by festal mirth, and made extravagant by wine. Hence arose, and with a character answering to this original, the _satyric drama_; the spirit of which was afterwards, in good measure, revived and continued in the old comedy, and itself preserved, though with considerable alteration in the form, through all the several periods of the Greek stage; even when tragedy, which arose out of it, was brought to its last perfection. Much the same may be observed of the _Roman_ drama, which, we are told, had its rise in the unrestrained festivity of the rustic youth. This gave occasion to their _Satyræ_, that is, medleys of an irregular form, acted for the diversion of the people. And, when afterwards Livius Andronicus had, by a further reform, reduced these _Satyræ_ into regular tragedies, another species of buffoon ridicule was cultivated, under the name of _Atellanæ fabulæ_; which, according to Diomedes’ character of them, _were replete with jocular witticisms, and very much resembled the Greek satyrs_. _Dictis jocularibus refertæ, similes fere sunt satyricis fabulis Græcorum._ These were ever after retained, and annexed to their most regular dramatic entertainments in Rome, just as the _satyrs_ were in Greece; and this (as was seen in its place) though much pains was taken to reform, if not wholly remove, them. But to shew how strong the passion of the Romans was for this rude illiberal banter, even the licentious character of the _Atellanes_ did not fully satisfy them; but, as if they were determined to stick to their genuine rusticity, they continued the _Satyræ_ themselves, under the name of _Exodia_, that is farces of the grossest and most absurd composition; which, to heighten the mirth of the day, were commonly interwoven with the Atellane pieces. The reason of the continuance of such ribaldry in the politest ages of Greece and Rome hath been inquired into. At present it appears, what effect it must necessarily have upon the public taste.

II. Another cause connected with the foregoing, and rising out of it, seems to have been the festal licence of particular seasons, such as the _Dionysia_ and _Panathenæa_, amongst the Greeks; and the _Bacchanalia_ and _Saturnalia_, at Rome. These latter, it is observable, were continued to the latest period of the Roman empire, preserving in them an image, as well of the frank and libertine wit of their old stage, as of the original equality and independency of their old times. Quintilian thinks, that, with some regulation, good use might have been made of these seasons of licence, for the cultivating a just spirit of raillery in the orators of his time. As it was, there is no doubt, they helped much to vitiate and deprave it. His words are these: _Quin illæ ipsæ, quæ_ DICTA _sunt ac vocantur, quas certis diebus festæ licentiæ dicere solebamus, si paulum adhibita ratione fingerentur, aut aliquid in his serium quoque esset admixtum, plurimum poterunt utilitatis afferre: quæ nunc juvenum, aut sibi ludentium exercitatio est._ [Quint. l. iv. c. 3.] Besides, in Greece, the jester was a character by profession, necessary to the pleasantry of private feasts, and, as we learn from the fine satyr in Xenophon’s _Symposium_, even in that polite age, welcome to all companies[26].

From these reasons I think it not difficult to account for the coarseness of ancient wit. The free genius of the Greek and Roman constitution was unquestionably its main spring and support. But, when this character of their government was seconded by the freedom of their demagogues, the petulance of the stage, and the uncontrouled licence of recurring festival solemnities, it was no wonder, the illiberal manner so thoroughly infected all ranks and degrees of the people, as by no after diligence and refinement wholly to be removed. And this theory is indeed confirmed by _fact_. For, when now the tyranny of one man had ingrossed the power, and oppressed the liberties, of Greece, their stage refined, their wit polished, and Menander wrote. And though a thorough reform was never made in the Roman stage, partly, as Quintilian thinks, from the intractability of their language, but chiefly, it may be, as to the point in question, from the long continuance of their rude farcical shews, yet something like this appears to have followed upon the loss of their freedom; as is plain from the improved delicacy of their later critics; who, as Quintilian and Plutarch, are very profuse in their encomiums on Menander, and the _new_ comedy; whereas we find little said of it by the Augustan writers, who seem generally to have preferred the coarser wit and pleasantry of the _old_. The state of modern wit too confirms this account. For it has grown up, for the most part, under limited monarchies, in which their scenical entertainments were more moderate, or for plain reasons must less affect the public taste. Whenever therefore a turn for letters has prevailed, a poignant, but liberal kind of wit hath generally sprung up with it. Where it is worth observing, the growing tyranny in some states hath either extinguished it intirely, or refined it into an effeminate and timid delicacy, as the growing licentiousness in others hath sunk it into a rude and brutal coarseness; whilst by a due mixture of liberty and letters, we have seen it acquire a proper temperament at home, and, as managed by our best writers, exhibit a specimen of that strong, yet elegant ridicule, which hath never yet been equalled by any other nation in the world.

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275. IGNOTUM TRAGICAE GENUS INVENISSE CAMENAE, &c.] The poet, having just remarked the negligence of the Roman writers, in two or three instances, and, at the same time recommended to them the superior care and accuracy of the Greeks (all which is elegantly preparatory to the last division of the epistle) proceeds in a short view of the Greek drama, to insinuate, as well the successful pains of the Greek writers, as the real state of the Roman stage; the complete glory of which could only be expected, as immediately follows, from a spirit of diligence and correctness. As this whole connexion is clear and easy, so is the peculiar method, in which it is conducted, extremely proper. 1. To shew, how great the advantage of their situation was over that of the Greeks, he observes, that the latter had the whole constitution of the drama to invent and regulate; which yet, by the application and growing experience of their poets, was soon effected; their tragedy, all rude and shapeless, as it was, in the cart of Thespis, appearing in its just form and proportion on the stage of Æschylus; and their comedy also (which, from that time, began to be cultivated) asserting its proper character, and, but for the culpable omission of a chorus, reaching the full extent and perfection of its kind.

2. To shew, what still remained to them, he brings down the history of tragedy no lower than Æschylus; under whom it received its due form and all the essentials of its nature, yet still wanted, to its absolute perfection, the further accuracy and correctness of a Sophocles. And, for their comedy, he hints the principal defect of that; its omission, after the manner of the new comedy, of the chorus. There is great address in this conduct. The censure also implied in it, is perfectly just. For, 1. the character of the Roman tragedy, in the times of Horace, was exactly that of Æschylus. Æschylus, says Quintilian, was the first, “_qui protulit tragœdias_,” i. e. who composed true legitimate tragedies, _sublimis et gravis et grandiloquus sæpe usque ad vitium; sed rudis in plerisque et incompositus_ [L. x. c. i.] the very description, which Horace gives [2 Ep. i. 165.] of the Roman tragedy.

_natura sublimis et acer,
Nam spirat tragicum satis et feliciter audet;
Sed turpem putat inscitus metuitque lituram._

2. The state of their comedy, as managed by their best writers, Afranius and Terence, was, indeed, much more complete; yet wanted the chorus, which, in the judgment of the poet, it seems, was equally necessary to the perfection of this, as of the other drama.

3. But the application is made in express terms.

_Nil intentatum nostri liquere poetæ_, &c.

_i. e._ our poets, as well as the Greek, have, in some degree, applied themselves to improve and regulate the stage. In particular, a late innovation, in taking their subjects, both of tragedy and comedy, from domestic facts, is highly to be applauded. Their sole disadvantage is, _a neglect or contempt of that labour and accuracy, which gave the last perfection to the Greek scene_.

After this clear and natural exposition of the connexion of these lines, all the difficulties, that have been found in them by certain great critics, vanish of themselves. And the reader now sees (what the sagacious Heinsius thought impossible to be shewn) an ἀκολουθίαν, or consistent, natural order in this part of the epistle; which was in imminent danger of losing all its grace and beauty, by the wild transpositions of that critic.

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278. POST HUNC PERSONAE PALLAEQUE, &c.] M. _Dacier_ hath here puzzled himself with a difficulty of his own raising. He wonders, that Horace should omit, in this history, the other improvements of Æschylus, mentioned by Aristotle, and that Aristotle, in his turn, should omit those, mentioned by Horace. The truth is, neither of them intended a complete account of the improvements of the Greek stage; but only so much of them, as was necessary to the views of each. Aristotle, treating of the _internal_ constitution of the drama, speaks of such changes, made in it by Æschylus, as respected that end. Horace, treating in general of its _form_, as perfected by the pains and application of the same poet, selects those improvements only, which contrast best to the rude essays of Thespis, and, while they imply the rest, exhibit tragedy, as it were, in her proper person, on the stage. The reader feels the effect of this in the poetry.

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