their wits and their writings; and if they are 1 2/ vended by the pirates, this innocent work is forced to steal abroad as if it were a libel. bus otsuq oT msit of dsa 19miot Our present writers are by thefe wretches reduced to the fame condition Virgil was, when the centurion feized on his eftate. But, I don't doubt but I can fix upon the Mæcenas of the prefent age, that will retrieve them from it. But, whatever effect this piracy may it contributed have upon us, very much to the advantage of Mr. Philips; it helped him to a reputation, which he neither defired nor. expected, and to the honour of being put upon a work of which he did not think himfelf capable; but the event fhewed his modefty. And it was reasonable to hope, that he, who could raife mean fubjects fo high, fhould still be more elevated on greater don themes; that he, that could draw fuch noble ideas from a fhilling, could not fail upon fuch a fubject as the duke of Marlborough, which is capable of heightening even the most low and trifling genius. And, indeed, most of the great works which have been produced; in the world have been owing lefs to the poet than the patron. Men of the greatest genius are fometimes lazy, and want a fpur; often babasy modeft, modeft, and dare not venture in publicke they certainly know their faults in the worft things; and even their beft things they are not fond of, because the idea of what they ought to be is far above what they are. This induced me to believe that Virgil defired his work might be burnt, had not the fame Au-ol guftus, that defired him to write them, preferved them from deftruction. A fcribbling beau may imagine a Poet may be induced to write, by the very pleasure he finds in writt ing; but that is feldom, when people are neceffitated to it. I have known men row, and use very hard labour, for diversion, which if they had been tied to, they would have thought themselves very unhappy. But to return to Blenheim, that work fo much admired by fome, and cenfured by others. I have often wished he had wrote it in Latin, that he might be out of the reach of the empty criticks, who could have as lit tle understood his meaning in that language as they do his beauties in his own. False criticks have been the plague of all ages; Milton himself, in a very polite court, has has been compared to the rumbling of a wheel-barrow he had been on the wrong fide, and therefore could not be a good poet. And this, perhaps, may be Mr. Philips's cafe. any But I take generally the ignorance of his readers to be the occafion of their diflike. People that have formed their tafte upon the French writers can have no relifh for Philips: they admire points and turns, and confequently have no judgement of what is great and majestick: he muft look little in their eyes, when he foars fo high as to be almost out of their view. I cannot therefore allow admirer of the French to be a judge of Blenheim, nor any who takes Bouhours for a compleat critick. He generally judges of the ancients by the moderns, and not the moderns by the ancients; he takes those paffages of their own authors to be really fublime which come the nearest to it; he often calls that a noble and a great thought which is only a pretty and fine one, and has more inftances of the fublime out of Ovid de Triftibus, than he has out of all Virgil. I fhall I fhall allow, therefore, only thofe to be judges of Philips, who make the ancients, and particularly Virgil, their standard. But before I enter on this fubject, I shall confider what is particular in the style of Philips, and examine what ought to be the ftyle of heroick poetry; and next inquire how far he is come up to that ftyle. His ftyle is particular, because he lays afide rhyme, and writes in blank verfe, and ufes old words, and frequently poftpones the adjective to the fubftantive, and the fubftantive to the verb; and leaves out little particles, a, and the; her, and his; and ufes frequent appofitions. Now let us examine, whether thefe alterations of ftyle be conformable ta the true fublime, |