THE WORKS OF VIRGIL, TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE.
Reading edition
WORKS OF VIRGIL.
This great work was undertaken by Dryden, in 1694, and published, by subscription, in 1697. One hundred and one subscribers gave five guineas each to furnish the engravings for the work; if indeed this was any thing more than a genteel pretext for increasing the profit of the author; for Spence has informed us, that the old plates used for Ogleby's "Virgil," were retouched for that of his great successor. Another class of subscribers, two hundred and fifty-two in number, contributed two guineas each. As the names of those who encouraged this great national labour have some claim to distinction, the reader will find, prefixed to this edition, an accurate copy of both lists, as they stand in the first folio edition. On 28th June, 1697, the following advertisement appeared in the London Gazette:
"The Works of Virgil; containing his Pastorals, Georgics, and Eneis, translated into English verse, by Mr Dryden, and adorned with one hundred cuts, will be finished this week, and be ready next week to be delivered, as subscribed for, in quires, upon bringing the receipt for the first payment, and paying the second. Printed for Jacob Tonson, &c."
In 1709, Tonson published a second edition of Dryden's "Virgil," with the plates reduced, in three volumes, 8vo; and various others have since appeared. In 1803, a new edition was given to the public, revised and corrected by Henry Carey, LL.D. This is so correct, that, although it has been uniformly compared with the original edition of Tonson, I have thought it advisable to follow the modern editor in some corrections of the punctuation and reading. In other cases, where I have adhered to the folio, I have placed Dr Carey's alteration at the bottom of the page. It is hardly worth while to notice, that there is a slight alteration of the arrangement of Dryden's prolegomena; the Dedication to the "Pastorals" being placed immediately before that class of poems, instead of preceding the Life, as in the original folio. Dryden's Notes and Observations, which, in the original, are printed together at the end of the work, are, in this edition, dispersed and subjoined to the different Books containing the passages to which they refer.
THE NAMES OF THE SUBSCRIBERS TO THE CUTS OF VIRGIL, IN THE FOLIO EDITION, 1697.
EACH SUBSCRIPTION BEING FIVE GUINEAS.
PASTORALS.
1. Lord Chancellor
2. Lord Privy Seal
3. Earl of Dorset
4. Lord Buckhurst
5. Earl of Abingdon
6. Lord Viscount Cholmondely
7. Lord Herbert of Cherbury.
8. Lord Clifford
9. Marq. of Hartington
10. The Hon. Mr Ch. Mountague
GEORGIC I.
11. Sir Tho. Trevor
12. Sir John Hawles
13. Joseph Jeakyl, Esq.
14. Tho. Vernon, Esq.
15. Will. Dobyns, Esq.
GEORGIC II.
16. Sir Will. Bower
17. Gilbert Dolbin, Esq.
18. Geo. London, Esq.
19. John Loving, Esq.
20. Will. Walsh, Esq.
GEORGIC III.
21. Duke of Richmond
22. Sir J. Isham, Bart.
23. Sir Tho. Mompesson
24. John Dormer, Esq.
25. Frederick Tylney, Esq.
GEORGIC IV.
26. Richard Norton, Esq.
27. Sir Will. Trumbull
28. Sir Barth. Shower
29. Symon Harcourt, Esq.
30. John Granvill, Esq.
ÆNEID I.
31. Prince George of Denmark
32. Princess Ann of Denmark
33. Duchess of Ormond
34. Countess of Exeter
35. Countess-Dowager of Winchelsea
36. Marchioness of Normanby
ÆNEID II.
37. Duke of Somerset
38. Earl of Salisbury
39. Earl of Inchiqueen
40. Earl of Orrery
41. Lord Viscount Dunbar
42. Countess-Dowager of Northampton
ÆNEID III.
43. Earl of Darby
44. Bishop of Durham
45. Bishop of Ossery
46. Dr John Mountague
47. Dr Brown
48. Dr Guibbons
ÆNEID IV.
49. Earl of Exeter
50. Lady Giffard
51. Lord Clifford
52. John Walkaden, Esq.
53. Henry Tasburgh Esq.
54. Mrs Ann Brownlow
ÆNEID V.
55. Duke of St Albans
56. Earl of Torrington
57. Anth. Hamond, Esq.
58. Henry St Johns, Esq.
59. Steph. Waller, LL.D.
60. Duke of Glocester
61. Edmond Waller, Esq.
ÆNEID VI.
62. Earl of Denbigh
63. Sir Tho. Dyke, Bart.
64. Mrs Ann Bayner
65. John Lewknor, Esq.
66. Sir Fleetwood Shepherd
67. John Poultney, Esq.
68. John Knight, Esq.
69. Robert Harley, Esq.
ÆNEID VII.
70. Earl of Rumney
71. Anthony Henley, Esq.
72. George Stepney, Esq.
73. Coll. Tho. Farringdon
74. Lady Mary Sackvill
75. Charles Fox, Esq.
ÆNEID VIII.
76. Earl of Ailesbury
77. The Hon. Mr Robert Bruce
78. Christopher Rich, Esq.
79. Sir Godfrey Kneller
ÆNEID IX.
80. Earl of Sunderland
81. Thomas Foley, Esq.
82. Col. Geo. Cholmondly
83. Sir John Percival, Bart.
84. Col. Christopher Codrington
85. Mr John Closterman.
ÆNEID X.
86. Lord Visc. Fitzharding
87. Sir Robert Howard
88. Sir John Leuson Gore, Bart.
89. Sir Charles Orby
90. Tho. Hopkins, Esq.
ÆNEID XI.
91. Duke of Shrewsbury
92. Sir W. Kirkham Blount, Bart.
93. John Noell, Esq.
94. Marquis of Normanby
95. Lord Berkley
96. Arthur Manwareing, Esq.
ÆNEID XII.
97. Earl of Chesterfield
98. Brigadier Fitzpatrick
99. Dr Tho. Hobbs
100. Lord Guilford
101. Duke of Ormond
THE NAMES OF THE SECOND SUBSCRIBERS.
A.
Lord Ashley
Sir James Ash, Bart.
Sir James Ash, Bart.
Sir Francis Andrew, Bart.
Charles Adderley, Esq.
Mrs Ann Ash
Edw. Ash, Esq.
Mr Francis Atterbury
Sam. Atkins, Esq.
Tho. Austen, Esq.
Ro. Austen, Esq.
B.
Earl of Bullingbrook
Sir Ed. Bettenson, Bart.
Sir Tho. Pope Blount, Bart.
Sir John Bolles
Sir Will. Bowes
Will. Blathwayt, Esq.
Secretary of War
Will. Barlow, Esq.
Peregrine Bertye, Esq.
Will. Bridgman, Esq.
Orlando Bridgman, Esq.
Will. Bridges, Esq.
Char. Bloodworth, Esq.
The Hon. Henry Boyl, Esq.
Rich. Boyl, Esq.
Chidley Brook, Esq.
Will. Bromley, Esq. of Warwickshire
Mich. Bruneau, Esq.
Tho. Bulkley, Esq.
Theoph. Butler, Esq.
Capt. John Berkeley
Mr Jo. Bowes, Prebend. of Durham
Mr Jeremiah Ball
Mr John Ball
Mr Richard Banks
Mrs Elizabeth Barry
Mr Beckford
Mr Tho. Betterton
Mrs Catharine Blount
Mr Bond
Mr Bond
Mrs Ann Bracegirdle
Mr Samuel Brockenborough
Mrs Elizabeth Brown
Mr Moses Bruche
Mr Lancelot Burton
C.
Earl of Clarendon
Lord Henry Cavendish
Lord Clifford
Lord Coningsby
Lord Cutts
Lady Chudleigh, of the West
The Hon. Char. Cornwallis, son to the Lord Cornwallis
Sir Walt. Clarges, Bart.
Sir Ro. Cotton
Sir Will. Cooper
The Hon. Will. Cheyney
James Calthorp, Esq.
Charles Chamberlayn, Esq.
Edmond Clifford, Esq.
Charles Cocks, Esq.
Tho. Coel, Esq.
Tho. Coke, Esq.
Hugh Colville, Esq.
Jo. Crawley, Esq.
Courtney Crocker, Esq.
Henry Curwyn, Esq.
Capt. James Conoway
Mr Will Claret
Mr John Claney
Mr Will Congreve
Mr Henry Cook
Mr Will. Cooper
Mrs Elizabeth Creede
D.
Duchess of Devonshire
Paul Docmenique, Esq.
Mountague Drake, Esq.
Will. Draper, Esq.
Mr Mich. Dahl
Mr Davenport
Mr Will. Delawn
Mrs Dorothy Draycot
Mr Edward Dryden
E.
Earl of Essex
Sir Edw. Ernle
Will. Elson, Esq.
Tho. Elyot, Esq.
Thomas Earl, Major-General
F.
Sir Edm. Fettiplace, Bart.
Sir Will. Forester
Sir James Forbys
Lady Mary Fenwick
The Hon. Col. Finch
The Hon. Doctour Finch
The Hon. Will. Fielding
Rich. Franklin, Postmaster, Esq.
Charles Fergesen, Esq. Com. of the Navy
Doctor Fuller, D. of Lincoln
Henry Farmer, Esq.
Tho. Finch, Esq.
Tho. Frewin, Esq.
Mr George Finch
G.
Sir Bevill Granvill, Bart.
Oliver St George, Esq.
Tho Gifford, Esq.
Rich. Goulston, Esq.
Richard Graham, Esq.
Fergus Grahme, Esq.
Will. Grove, Esq.
Dr Gath, M.D.
Mr George Goulding
Mr Grinlin Guibbons
H.
Lord Archibald Hamilton
Lord Hide
Sir Richard Haddock
Sir Christop. Hales, Bart.
Sir Tho. Hussey
Rob. Harley, Esq.
Rob. Henley, Esq. M.P.
Will. Hewer, Esq.
Rodger Hewet, Esq.
He. Heveningham, Esq.
John Holdworthy, Esq.
Matt Holdworthy, Esq.
Nath. Hornby, Esq.
The Hon. Bern Howard
Craven Howard, Esq.
Mansel Howe, Esq.
Sam. Hunter, Esq.
Mr Edward Hastwell
Mr Nich. Hawksmore
Mr Whitfeild Hayter
Mr Peter Henriques
Mr Ro. Huckwell
J.
John James, Esq.
William Jenkins, Esq.
Sam. Jones, Esq.
Mr Edw. Jefferyes
K.
Jos. Keally, Esq.
Coll. James Kendall
Dr Knipe
Mr Mich. Kinkead
L.
Sir Berkely Lucy, Bart.
Lady Jane Leveson Gower
Tho. Langley, Esq.
Patrick Lamb, Esq.
Will. Latton, Esq.
James Long, of Draycot, Esq.
Will. Lownds, Esq.
Dennis Lydal, Esq.
Mr Char. Longueville.
M.
Charles Mannours, Esq.
Tho. Mansel, Esq.
Bussy Mansel, Esq.
Will. Martyn, Esq.
Henry Maxwell, Esq.
Charles Mein, Esq.
Rich. Minshul, Esq.
Ro. Molesworth, Esq.
The Hon. Henry Mordaunt
George Moult, Esq.
Christoph. Mountague, Esq.
Walter Moyl, Esq.
Mr Charles Marbury
Mr Chistoph. Metcalf
Mrs Monneux
N.
Lord Norris
Henry Neville, Esq.
Will. Norris, Esq.
Mr Will. Nicoll
O.
Ro. Orme, Esq.
Dr Oliver, M.D.
Mr Mich. Owen
P.
The Right Hon. Charles Earl of Peterborough
Sir Henry Pechy, Bart.
Sir John Phillips, Bart.
Sir John Pykering, Bart.
Sir John Parsons
Ro. Palmer, Esq.
Guy Palmes, Esq.
Ben. Parry, Esq.
Sam. Pepys, Esq.
James Petre, Esq.
Will. Pezeley, Esq.
Craven Peyton, Esq.
John Pitts, Esq.
Will. Plowden of Plowden, Esq.
Mr Theoph. Pykering, Prebend of Durham
Coll. Will. Parsons
Capt. Phillips
Capt. Pitts
Mr Daniel Peck
R.
Duchess of Richmond
Earl of Radnor
Lord Ranelagh
Tho. Rawlings, Esq.
Will. Rider, Esq.
Francis Roberts, Esq.
Mr Rose
S.
Lord Spencer
Sir Tho. Skipwith, Bart.
Sir John Seymour
Sir Charles Skrimpshire
J. Scroop of Danby, Esq.
Ralph Sheldon, Com. Warw. Esq.
Edw. Sheldon, Esq.
John Smith, Esq.
James Sothern, Esq.
The Hon. James Stanley, Esq.
Ro. Stopford, Esq.
The Hon. Major-Gen. Edward Sackville
Col. J. Stanhope
Col. Strangways
Mr James Seamer
Mr William Seeks
Mr Joseph Sherwood
Mr Laurence Smith
Mr Tho. Southern
Mr Paris Slaughter
Mr Lancelot Stepney
T.
Sir John Trevillion, Bart.
Sir Edm. Turner
Henry Temple, Esq.
Ashburnam Toll, Esq.
Sam. Travers, Esq.
John Tucker, Esq.
Major-Gen. Charles Trelawney
Major-Gen. Trelawney
Col. John Tidcomb
Col. Trelawney
Mr George Townsend
Mr Tho. Tyldesley
Mr Tyndall
V.
John Verney, Esq.
Henry Vernon, Esq.
James Vernon, Esq.
W.
Lord Marquis of Winchester
Earl of Weymouth
Lady Windham
Sir John Walter, Bart.
Sir John Woodhouse, Bart.
Sir Francis Windham
James Ward, Esq.
Will. Wardour, jun. Esq.
Will. Welby, Esq.
Will. Weld, Esq.
Th. Brome Whorwood, Esq.
Salw. Winnington, Esq.
Col. Cornelius Wood
Mrs Mary Walter
Mr Leonard Wessel
RECOMMENDATORY POEMS.
TO MR DRYDEN, ON HIS EXCELLENT TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL.
Whene'er great Virgil's lofty verse I see, The pompous scene charms my admiring eye. There different beauties in perfection meet; The thoughts as proper, as the numbers sweet; And, when wild Fancy mounts a daring height, Judgment steps in, and moderates her flight. Wisely he manages his wealthy store, Still says enough, and yet implies still more: For, though the weighty sense be closely wrought, The reader's left to improve the pleasing thought. Hence we despaired to see an English dress Should e'er his nervous energy express; For who could that in fettered rhyme inclose, Which, without loss, can scarce be told in prose? But you, great Sir, his manly genius raise, And make your copy share an equal praise. Oh! how I see thee, in soft scenes of love, Renew those passions he alone could move! Here Cupid's charms are with new art exprest, And pale Eliza leaves her peaceful rest— Leaves her Elysium, as if glad to live, } To love, and wish, to sigh, despair, and grieve, } And die again for him that would again deceive. } Nor does the mighty Trojan less appear Than Mars himself, amidst the storms of war. Now his fierce eyes with double fury glow, And a new dread attends the impending blow: The Daunian chiefs their eager rage abate, And, though unwounded, seem to feel their fate. Long the rude fury of an ignorant age, With barbarous spite, profaned his sacred page. The heavy Dutchmen, with laborious toil, Wrested his sense, and cramped his vigorous style. No time, no pains, the drudging pedants spare, But still his shoulders must the burden bear; While, through the mazes of their comments led, We learn, not what he writes, but what they read. Yet, through these shades of undistinguished night, Appeared some glimmering intervals of light; Till mangled by a vile translating sect, Like babes by witches in effigie rackt: Till Ogleby, mature in dulness, rose, And Holbourn doggrel, and low chiming prose, His strength and beauty did at once depose. But now the magic spell is at an end, Since even the dead, in you, have found a friend. You free the bard from rude oppressors' power, And grace his verse with charms unknown before. He, doubly thus obliged, must doubting stand, Which chiefly should his gratitude command— Whether should claim the tribute of his heart, The patron's bounty, or the poet's art. Alike with wonder and delight we viewed The Roman genius in thy verse renewed: We saw thee raise soft Ovid's amorous fire, And fit the tuneful Horace to thy lyre: We saw new gall embitter Juvenal's pen, And crabbed Persius made politely plain. Virgil alone was thought too great a task— What you could scarce perform, or we durst ask; A task, which Waller's Muse could ne'er engage; A task, too hard for Denham's stronger rage. Sure of success, they some slight sallies tried; But the fenced coast their bold attempts defied: With fear, their o'ermatched forces back they drew, Quitting the province Fate reserved for you. In vain thus Philip did the Persians storm; A work his son was destined to perform. O! had Roscommon[269] lived to hail the day, And sing loud Pæans through the crowded way, When you in Roman majesty appear, Which none know better, and none come so near; The happy author would with wonder see, His rules were only prophecies of thee: And, were he now to give translators light, He'd bid them only read thy work, and write. For this great task, our loud applause is due; We own old favours, but must press for new: Th' expecting world demands one labour more; And thy loved Homer does thy aid implore, To right his injured works, and set them free From the lewd rhymes of grovelling Ogleby. Then shall his verse in graceful pomp appear, Nor will his birth renew the ancient jar: On those Greek cities we shall look with scorn, And in our Britain think the poet born.
TO MR DRYDEN, ON HIS TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL.
I.
We read, how dreams and visions heretofore The prophet and the poet could inspire, And make them in unusual rapture soar, With rage divine, and with poetic fire.
II.
O could I find it now!—Would Virgil's shade But for a while vouchsafe to bear the light, To grace my numbers, and that Muse to aid, Who sings the poet that has done him right.
III.
It long has been this sacred author's fate, To lie at every dull translator's will: Long, long his Muse has groaned beneath the weight Of mangling Ogleby's presumptuous quill.
IV.
Dryden, at last, in his defence arose: The father now is righted by the son; And, while his Muse endeavours to disclose That poet's beauties, she declares her own.
V.
In your smooth pompous numbers drest, each line, Each thought, betrays such a majestic touch, He could not, had he finished his design, Have wished it better, or have done so much.
VI.
You, like his hero, though yourself were free, And disentangled from the war of wit— You, who secure might others' danger see, And safe from all malicious censure sit—
VII.
Yet, because sacred Virgil's noble Muse, O'erlaid by fools, was ready to expire, To risk your fame again, you boldly chuse, Or to redeem, or perish with your sire.
VIII.
Even first and last, we owe him half to you: For, that his Æneids missed their threatened fate, Was—that his friends by some prediction knew, Hereafter, who, correcting, should translate.
IX.
But hold, my Muse! thy needless flight restrain, Unless, like him, thou could'st a verse indite: To think his fancy to describe, is vain, Since nothing can discover light, but light.
X.
'Tis want of genius that does more deny; 'Tis fear my praise should make your glory less; And, therefore, like the modest painter, I Must draw the veil, where I cannot express.
Henry Grahme.
TO MR DRYDEN.
No undisputed monarch governed yet, With universal sway, the realms of wit: Nature could never such expence afford; Each several province owned a several lord. A poet then had his poetic wife, One Muse embraced, and married for his life. By the stale thing his appetite was cloyed, His fancy lessened, and his fire destroyed. But Nature, grown extravagantly kind, With all her treasures did adorn your mind; The different powers were then united found, And you wit's universal monarch crowned. Your mighty sway your great desert secures; And every Muse and every Grace is yours. To none confined, by turns you all enjoy: Sated with this, you to another fly, So, sultan-like, in your seraglio stand, While wishing Muses wait for your command; Thus no decay, no want of vigour, find: Sublime your fancy, boundless is your mind. Not all the blasts of Time can do you wrong— Young, spite of age—in spite of weakness, strong. Time, like Alcides, strikes you to the ground; You, like Antæus, from each fall rebound.
H. St. John.
TO MR DRYDEN, ON HIS VIRGIL.
'Tis said, that Phidias gave such living grace To the carved image of a beauteous face, That the cold marble might even seem to be The life—and the true life, the imagery. You pass that artist, Sir, and all his powers, Making the best of Roman poets ours, With such effect, we know not which to call The imitation, which the original. What Virgil lent, you pay in equal weight; The charming beauty of the coin no less; And such the majesty of your impress, You seem the very author you translate. 'Tis certain, were he now alive with us, And did revolving destiny constrain To dress his thoughts in English o'er again, Himself could write no otherwise than thus. His old encomium never did appear So true as now: "Romans and Greeks, submit! Something of late is in our language writ, More nobly great than the famed Iliads were."
Ja. Wright.
TO MR DRYDEN, ON HIS TRANSLATIONS.
As flowers, transplanted from a southern sky, But hardly bear, or in the raising die, Missing their native sun,—at best retain But a faint odour, and but live with pain; So Roman poetry, by moderns taught, } Wanting the warmth with which its author wrote, } Is a dead image, and a worthless draught. } While we transfuse, the nimble spirit flies, Escapes unseen, evaporates, and dies. Who then attempts to shew the ancients' wit, Must copy with the genius that they writ: Whence we conclude from thy translated song, So just, so warm, so smooth, and yet so strong, Thou heavenly charmer! soul of harmony! That all their geniuses revived in thee. Thy trumpet sounds: the dead are raised to light; New-born they rise, and take to heaven their flight; Deck'd in thy verse, as clad with rays, they shine, All glorified, immortal, and divine. As Britain, in rich soil abounding wide, Furnished for use, for luxury, and pride, Yet spreads her wanton sails on every shore, For foreign wealth, insatiate still of more; To her own wool, the silks of Asia joins, And to her plenteous harvests, Indian mines; So Dryden, not contented with the fame Of his own works, though an immortal name—— To lands remote he sends his learned Muse, The noblest seeds of foreign wit to chuse. Feasting our sense so many various ways, Say, is't thy bounty, or thy thirst of praise, That, by comparing others, all might see, Who most excelled, are yet excelled by thee?
George Granville.
FOOTNOTES:
THE LIFE OF PUBLIUS VIRGILIUS MARO,
BY KNIGHTLY CHETWOOD, D.D.[270]
Virgil was born at Mantua, which city was built no less than three hundred years before Rome, and was the capital of the New Hetruria, as himself, no less antiquary than poet, assures us. His birth is said to have happened in the first consulship of Pompey the Great, and Licinius Crassus: but, since the relater of this presently after contradicts himself, and Virgil's manner of addressing to Octavius implies a greater difference of age than that of seven years, as appears by his First Pastoral, and other places, it is reasonable to set the date of it something backward; and the writer of his Life having no certain memorials to work upon, seems to have pitched upon the two most illustrious consuls he could find about that time, to signalize the birth of so eminent a man. But it is beyond all question, that he was born on or near the 15th of October, which day was kept festival in honour of his memory by the Latin, as the birth-day of Homer was by the Greek poets. And so near a resemblance there is betwixt the lives of these two famous epic writers, that Virgil seems to have followed the fortune of the other, as well as the subject and manner of his writing. For Homer is said to have been of very mean parents, such as got their bread by day-labour; so is Virgil. Homer is said to be base-born; so is Virgil. The former to have been born in the open air, in a ditch, or by the bank of a river; so is the latter. There was a poplar planted near the place of Virgil's birth, which suddenly grew up to an unusual height and bulk, and to which the superstitious neighbourhood attributed marvellous virtue: Homer had his poplar too, as Herodotus relates, which was visited with great veneration. Homer is described by one of the ancients to have been of a slovenly and neglected mien and habit; so was Virgil. Both were of a very delicate and sickly constitution; both addicted to travel, and the study of astrology; both had their compositions usurped by others; both envied and traduced during their lives. We know not so much as the true names of either of them with any exactness; for the critics are not yet agreed how the word Virgil should be written, and of Homer's name there is no certainty at all. Whosoever shall consider this parallel in so many particulars, (and more might be added,) would be inclined to think, that either the same stars ruled strongly at the nativities of them both; or, what is a great deal more probable, that the Latin grammarians, wanting materials for the former part of Virgil's life, after the legendary fashion, supplied it out of Herodotus; and, like ill face-painters, not being able to hit the true features, endeavoured to make amends by a great deal of impertinent landscape and drapery.
Without troubling the reader with needless quotations now, or afterwards, the most probable opinion is, that Virgil was the son of a servant, or assistant, to a wandering astrologer, who practised physic: for medicus, magus, as Juvenal observes, usually went together; and this course of life was followed by a great many Greeks and Syrians, of one of which nations it seems not improbable that Virgil's father was. Nor could a man of that profession have chosen a fitter place to settle in, than that most superstitious tract of Italy, which, by her ridiculous rites and ceremonies, as much enslaved the Romans, as the Romans did the Hetrurians by their arms. This man, therefore, having got together some money, which stock he improved by his skill in planting and husbandry, had the good fortune, at last, to marry his master's daughter, by whom he had Virgil: and this woman seems, by her mother's side, to have been of good extraction; for she was nearly related to Quintilius Varus, whom Paterculus assures us to have been of an illustrious, though not patrician, family; and there is honourable mention made of it in the history of the second Carthaginian war. It is certain, that they gave him very good education; to which they were inclined, not so much by the dreams of his mother, and those presages which Donatus relates, as by the early indications which he gave of a sweet disposition and excellent wit. He passed the first seven years of his life at Mantua, not seventeen, as Scaliger miscorrects his author; for the initia ætatis can hardly be supposed to extend so far. From thence he removed to Cremona, a noble Roman colony, and afterwards to Milan; in all which places, he prosecuted his studies with great application. He read over all the best Latin and Greek authors; for which he had convenience by the no remote distance of Marseilles, that famous Greek colony, which maintained its politeness and purity of language in the midst of all those barbarous nations amongst which it was seated; and some tincture of the latter seems to have descended from them down to the modern French. He frequented the most eminent professors of the Epicurean philosophy, which was then much in vogue, and will be always, in declining and sickly states.[271] But, finding no satisfactory account from his master Syron, he passed over to the Academic school; to which he adhered the rest of his life, and deserved, from a great emperor, the title of—The Plato of Poets. He composed at leisure hours a great number of verses on various subjects; and, desirous rather of a great than early fame, he permitted his kinsman and fellow-student, Varus, to derive the honour of one of his tragedies to himself. Glory, neglected in proper time and place, returns often with large increase: and so he found it; for Varus afterwards proved a great instrument of his rise. In short, it was here that he formed the plan, and collected the materials, of all those excellent pieces which he afterwards finished, or was forced to leave less perfect by his death. But, whether it were the unwholesomeness of his native air, of which he somewhere complains; or his too great abstinence, and night-watchings at his study, to which he was always addicted, as Augustus observes; or possibly the hopes of improving himself by travel—he resolved to remove to the more southern tract of Italy; and it was hardly possible for him not to take Rome in his way, as is evident to any one who shall cast an eye on the map of Italy. And therefore the late French editor of his works is mistaken, when he asserts, that he never saw Rome till he came to petition for his estate. He gained the acquaintance of the master of the horse to Octavius, and cured a great many diseases of horses, by methods they had never heard of. It fell out, at the same time, that a very fine colt, which promised great strength and speed, was presented to Octavius; Virgil assured them, that he came of a faulty mare, and would prove a jade: Upon trial, it was found as he had said. His judgment proved right in several other instances; which was the more surprising, because the Romans knew least of natural causes of any civilized nation in the world; and those meteors and prodigies, which cost them incredible sums to expiate, might easily have been accounted for by no very profound naturalist. It is no wonder, therefore, that Virgil was in so great reputation, as to be at last introduced to Octavius himself. That prince was then at variance with Marc Antony, who vexed him with a great many libelling letters, in which he reproaches him with the baseness of his parentage, that he came of a scrivener, a rope-maker, and a baker, as Suetonius tells us. Octavius finding that Virgil had passed so exact a judgment upon the breed of dogs and horses, thought that he possibly might be able to give him some light concerning his own. He took him into his closet, where they continued in private a considerable time. Virgil was a great mathematician; which, in the sense of those times, took in astrology; and, if there be any thing in that art, (which I can hardly believe,) if that be true which the ingenious De la Chambre asserts confidently, that, from the marks on the body, the configuration of the planets at a nativity may be gathered, and the marks might be told by knowing the nativity, never had one of those artists a fairer opportunity to show his skill than Virgil now had; for Octavius had moles upon his body, exactly resembling the constellation called Ursa Major. But Virgil had other helps; the predictions of Cicero and Catulus,[272] and that vote of the senate had gone abroad, that no child, born at Rome in the year of his nativity, should be bred up, because the seers assured them that an emperor was born that year. Besides this, Virgil had heard of the Assyrian and Egyptian prophecies, (which, in truth, were no other but the Jewish,) that about that time a great king was to come into the world. Himself takes notice of them, (Æn. VI.) where he uses a very significant word, now in all liturgies, hujus in adventu; so in another place, adventu propiore Dei.
At his foreseen approach already quake Assyrian kingdoms, and Mæotis' lake; Nile hears him knocking at his seven-fold gate.
Every one knows whence this was taken. It was rather a mistake than impiety in Virgil, to apply these prophecies, which belonged to the Saviour of the world, to the person of Octavius; it being a usual piece of flattery, for near a hundred years together, to attribute them to their emperors and other great men. Upon the whole matter, it is very probable, that Virgil predicted to him the empire at this time. And it will appear yet the more, if we consider, that he assures him of his being received into the number of the gods, in his First Pastoral, long before the thing came to pass; which prediction seems grounded upon his former mistake. This was a secret not to be divulged at that time; and therefore it is no wonder that the slight story in Donatus was given abroad to palliate the matter. But certain it is, that Octavius dismissed him with great marks of esteem, and earnestly recommended the protection of Virgil's affairs to Pollio, then lieutenant of the Cisalpine Gaul, where Virgil's patrimony lay. This Pollio, from a mean original, became one of the most considerable persons of his time; a good general, orator, statesman, historian, poet, and favourer of learned men; above all, he was a man of honour in those critical times. He had joined with Octavius and Antony in revenging the barbarous assassination of Julius Cæsar; when they two were at variance, he would neither follow Antony, whose courses he detested, nor join with Octavius against him, out of a grateful sense of some former obligations. Augustus, who thought it his interest to oblige men of principles, notwithstanding this, received him afterwards into favour, and promoted him to the highest honours. And thus much I thought fit to say of Pollio, because he was one of Virgil's greatest friends. Being therefore eased of domestic cares, he pursues his journey to Naples. The charming situation of that place, and view of the beautiful villas of the Roman nobility, equaling the magnificence of the greatest kings; the neighbourhood of Baiæ, whither the sick resorted for recovery, and the statesman when he was politicly sick; whither the wanton went for pleasure, and witty men for good company; the wholesomeness of the air, and improving conversation, the best air of all, contributed not only to the re-establishing his health, but to the forming of his style, and rendering him master of that happy turn of verse, in which he much surpasses all the Latins, and, in a less advantageous language, equals even Homer himself. He proposed to use his talent in poetry, only for scaffolding to build a convenient fortune, that he might prosecute, with less interruption, those nobler studies to which his elevated genius led him, and which he describes in these admirable lines:
Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musæ, Quarum sacra fero ingenti percussus amore, Accipiant; cælique vias, et sidera, monstrent, Defectus Solis varios, Lunæque labores; Unde tremor terris, &c.
But the current of that martial age, by some strange antiperistasis, drove so violently towards poetry, that he was at last carried down with the stream; for not only the young nobility, but Octavius, and Pollio, Cicero in his old age, Julius Cæsar, and the stoical Brutus, a little before, would needs be tampering with the Muses. The two latter had taken great care to have their poems curiously bound, and lodged in the most famous libraries; but neither the sacredness of those places, nor the greatness of their names, could preserve ill poetry. Quitting therefore the study of the law, after having pleaded but one cause with indifferent success, he resolved to push his fortune this way, which he seems to have discontinued for some time; and that may be the reason why the Culex, his first pastoral now extant, has little besides the novelty of the subject, and the moral of the fable, which contains an exhortation to gratitude, to recommend it. Had it been as correct as his other pieces, nothing more proper and pertinent could have at that time been addressed to the young Octavius; for, the year in which he presented it, probably at Baiæ, seems to be the very same in which that prince consented (though with seeming reluctance) to the death of Cicero, under whose consulship he was born, the preserver of his life, and chief instrument of his advancement. There is no reason to question its being genuine, as the late French editor does; its meanness, in comparison of Virgil's other works, (which is that writer's only objection,) confutes himself; for Martial, who certainly saw the true copy, speaks of it with contempt; and yet that pastoral equals, at least, the address to the Dauphin, which is prefixed to the late edition. Octavius, to unbend his mind from application to public business, took frequent turns to Baiæ, and Sicily, where he composed his poem called Sicelides, which Virgil seems to allude to in the pastoral beginning Sicelides Musæ. This gave him opportunity of refreshing that prince's memory of him; and about that time he wrote his Ætna. Soon after he seems to have made a voyage to Athens, and at his return presented his Ceiris, a more elaborate piece, to the noble and eloquent Messala. The forementioned author groundlessly taxes this as supposititious; for, besides other critical marks, there are no less than fifty or sixty verses, altered, indeed, and polished, which he inserted in the Pastorals, according to his fashion; and from thence they were called Eclogues, or Select Bucolics: we thought fit to use a title more intelligible, the reason of the other being ceased; and we are supported by Virgil's own authority, who expressly calls them carmina pastorum. The French editor is again mistaken, in asserting, that the Ceiris is borrowed from the ninth of Ovid's Metamorphoses: he might have more reasonably conjectured it to be taken from Parthenius, the Greek poet, from whom Ovid borrowed a great part of his work. But it is indeed taken from neither, but from that learned, unfortunate poet, Apollonius Rhodius, to whom Virgil is more indebted than to any other Greek writer, excepting Homer. The reader will be satisfied of this, if he consults that author in his own language; for the translation is a great deal more obscure than the original.
Whilst Virgil thus enjoyed the sweets of a learned privacy, the troubles of Italy cut off his little subsistence; but, by a strange turn of human affairs, which ought to keep good men from ever despairing, the loss of his estate proved the effectual way of making his fortune. The occasion of it was this: Octavius, as himself relates, when he was but nineteen years of age, by a masterly stroke of policy, had gained the veteran legions into his service, and, by that step, outwitted all the republican senate. They grew now very clamorous for their pay; the treasury being exhausted, he was forced to make assignments upon land; and none but in Italy itself would content them. He pitched upon Cremona, as the most distant from Rome; but that not sufficing, he afterwards threw in part of the state of Mantua. Cremona was a rich and noble colony, settled a little before the invasion of Hannibal. During that tedious and bloody war, they had done several important services to the commonwealth; and, when eighteen other colonies, pleading poverty and depopulation, refused to contribute money, or to raise recruits, they of Cremona voluntarily paid a double quota of both. But past services are a fruitless plea; civil wars are one continued act of ingratitude. In vain did the miserable mothers, with their famishing infants in their arms, fill the streets with their numbers, and the air with lamentations; the craving legions were to be satisfied at any rate. Virgil, involved in the common calamity, had recourse to his old patron, Pollio; but he was, at this time, under a cloud; however, compassionating so worthy a man, not of a make to struggle through the world, he did what he could, and recommended him to Mæcenas, with whom he still kept a private correspondence. The name of this great man being much better known than one part of his character, the reader, I presume, will not be displeased if I supply it in this place.
Though he was of as deep reach, and easy dispatch of business, as any in his time, yet he designedly lived beneath his true character. Men had oftentimes meddled in public affairs, that they might have more ability to furnish for their pleasures: Mæcenas, by the honestest hypocrisy that ever was, pretended to a life of pleasure, that he might render more effectual service to his master. He seemed wholly to amuse himself with the diversions of the town, but, under that mask, was the greatest minister of his age. He would be carried in a careless, effeminate posture through the streets in his chair, even to the degree of a proverb; and yet there was not a cabal of ill-disposed persons which he had not early notice of, and that too in a city as large as London and Paris, and perhaps two or three more of the most populous, put together. No man better understood that art so necessary to the great—the art of declining envy. Being but of a gentleman's family, not patrician, he would not provoke the nobility by accepting invidious honours, but wisely satisfied himself, that he had the ear of Augustus, and the secret of the empire. He seems to have committed but one great fault, which was, the trusting a secret of high consequence to his wife; but his master, enough uxorious himself, made his own frailty more excusable, by generously forgiving that of his favourite: he kept, in all his greatness, exact measures with his friends; and, chusing them wisely, found, by experience, that good sense and gratitude are almost inseparable. This appears in Virgil and Horace. The former, besides the honour he did him to all posterity, re-toured his liberalities at his death; the other, whom Mæcenas recommended with his last breath, was too generous to stay behind, and enjoy the favour of Augustus; he only desired a place in his tomb, and to mingle his ashes with those of his deceased benefactor. But this was seventeen hundred years ago.[273] Virgil, thus powerfully supported, thought it mean to petition for himself alone, but resolutely solicits the cause of his whole country, and seems, at first, to have met with some encouragement; but, the matter cooling, he was forced to sit down contented with the grant of his own estate. He goes therefore to Mantua, produces his warrant to a captain of foot, whom he found in his house. Arius, who had eleven points of the law, and fierce[274] of the services he had rendered to Octavius, was so far from yielding possession, that, words growing betwixt them, he wounded him dangerously, forced him to fly, and at last to swim the river Mincius to save his life. Virgil, who used to say, that no virtue was so necessary as patience, was forced to drag a sick body half the length of Italy, back again to Rome, and by the way, probably, composed his Ninth Pastoral, which may seem to have been made up in haste, out of the fragments of some other pieces; and naturally enough represents the disorder of the poet's mind, by its disjointed fashion, though there be another reason to be given elsewhere of its want of connection. He handsomely states his case in that poem, and, with the pardonable resentments of injured innocence, not only claims Octavius's promise, but hints to him the uncertainty of human greatness and glory. All was taken in good part by that wise prince; at last effectual orders were given. About this time, he composed that admirable poem, which is set first, out of respect to Cæsar; for he does not seem either to have had leisure, or to have been in the humour of making so solemn an acknowledgment, till he was possessed of the benefit. And now he was in so great reputation and interest, that he resolved to give up his land to his parents, and himself to the court. His Pastorals were in such esteem, that Pollio, now again in high favour with Cæsar, desired him to reduce them into a volume. Some modern writer, that has a constant flux of verse, would stand amazed, how Virgil could employ three whole years in revising five or six hundred verses, most of which, probably, were made some time before; but there is more reason to wonder, how he could do it so soon in such perfection. A coarse stone is presently fashioned; but a diamond, of not many carats, is many weeks in sawing, and, in polishing, many more. He who put Virgil upon this, had a politic good end in it.
The continued civil wars had laid Italy almost waste; the ground was uncultivated and unstocked; upon which ensued such a famine and insurrection, that Cæsar hardly escaped being stoned at Rome; his ambition being looked upon by all parties as the principal occasion of it. He set himself therefore with great industry to promote country improvements; and Virgil was serviceable to his design, as the good Keeper of the Bees, Georg. iv.
Tinnitusque cie, et Matris quate cymbala circum, Ipsæ consident.
That emperor afterwards thought it matter worthy a public inscription—
REDIIT CULTUS AGRIS—
which seems to be the motive that induced Mæcenas to put him upon writing his Georgics, or books of husbandry: a design as new in Latin verse, as pastorals, before Virgil, were in Italy: which work took up seven of the most vigorous years of his life; for he was now, at least, thirty-four years of age; and here Virgil shines in his meridian. A great part of this work seems to have been rough-drawn before he left Mantua; for an ancient writer has observed, that the rules of husbandry, laid down in it, are better calculated for the soil of Mantua, than for the more sunny climate of Naples; near which place, and in Sicily, he finished it. But, lest his genius should be depressed by apprehensions of want, he had a good estate settled upon him, and a house in the pleasantest part of Rome; the principal furniture of which was a well-chosen library, which stood open to all comers of learning and merit: and what recommended the situation of it most, was the neighbourhood of his Mæcenas; and thus he could either visit Rome, or return to his privacy at Naples, through a pleasant road, adorned on each side with pieces of antiquity, of which he was so great a lover, and, in the intervals of them, seemed almost one continued street of three days' journey.
Cæsar, having now vanquished Sextus Pompeius, (a spring-tide of prosperities breaking in upon him, before he was ready to receive them as he ought,) fell sick of the imperial evil, the desire of being thought something more than man. Ambition is an infinite folly; when it has attained to the utmost pitch of human greatness, it soon falls to making pretensions upon heaven. The crafty Livia would needs be drawn in the habit of a priestess by the shrine of the new god; and this became a fashion not to be dispensed with amongst the ladies. The devotion was wonderous great amongst the Romans; for it was their interest, and, which sometimes avails more, it was the mode. Virgil, though he despised the heathen superstitions, and is so bold as to call Saturn and Janus by no better a name than that of old men, and might deserve the title of subverter of superstitions, as well as Varro, thought fit to follow the maxim of Plato his master, that every one should serve the gods after the usage of his own country; and therefore was not the last to present his incense, which was of too rich a composition for such an altar; and, by his address to Cæsar on this occasion, made an unhappy precedent to Lucan and other poets which came after him.—Georg. i. and iii. And this poem being now in great forwardness, Cæsar, who, in imitation of his predecessor Julius, never intermitted his studies in the camp, and much less in other places, refreshing himself by a short stay in a pleasant village of Campania would needs be entertained with the rehearsal of some part of it. Virgil recited with a marvellous grace, and sweet accent of voice, but his lungs failing him, Mæcenas himself supplied his place for what remained. Such a piece of condescension would now be very surprising; but it was no more than customary amongst friends, when learning passed for quality.[275] Lælius, the second man of Rome in his time, had done as much for that poet, out of whose dross Virgil would sometimes pick gold, as himself said, when one found him reading Ennius; (the like he did by some verses of Varro, and Pacuvius, Lucretius, and Cicero, which he inserted into his works.) But learned men then lived easy and familiarly with the great: Augustus himself would sometimes sit down betwixt Virgil and Horace, and say jestingly, that he sat betwixt sighing and tears, alluding to the asthma of one, and rheumatic eyes of the other. He would frequently correspond with them, and never leave a letter of theirs unanswered; nor were they under the constraint of formal superscriptions in the beginning, nor of violent superlatives at the close, of their letter: the invention of these is a modern refinement; in which this may be remarked, in passing, that "humble servant" is respect, but "friend" an affront; which notwithstanding implies the former, and a great deal more. Nor does true greatness lose by such familiarity; and those who have it not, as Mæcenas and Pollio had, are not to be accounted proud, but rather very discreet, in their reserves. Some playhouse beauties do wisely to be seen at a distance, and to have the lamps twinkle betwixt them and the spectators.
But now Cæsar, who, though he were none of the greatest soldiers, was certainly the greatest traveller, of a prince, that had ever been, (for which Virgil so dexterously compliments him, Æneid, vi.) takes a voyage to Egypt, and, having happily finished the war, reduces that mighty kingdom into the form of a province, over which he appointed Gallus his lieutenant. This is the same person to whom Virgil addresses his Tenth Pastoral; changing, in compliance to his request, his purpose of limiting them to the number of the Muses. The praises of this Gallus took up a considerable part of the Fourth Book of the Georgics, according to the general consent of antiquity: but Cæsar would have it put out; and yet the seam in the poem is still to be discerned; and the matter of Aristæus's recovering his bees might have been dispatched in less compass, without fetching the causes so far, or interesting so many gods and goddesses in that affair. Perhaps some readers may be inclined to think this, though very much laboured, not the most entertaining part of that work; so hard it is for the greatest masters to paint against their inclination. But Cæsar was contented, that he should be mentioned in the last Pastoral, because it might be taken for a satirical sort of commendation; and the character he there stands under, might help to excuse his cruelty, in putting an old servant to death for no very great crime.
And now having ended, as he begins his Georgics, with solemn mention of Cæsar, (an argument of his devotion to him,) he begins his Æneïs, according to the common account, being now turned of forty. But that work had been, in truth, the subject of much earlier meditation. Whilst he was working upon the first book of it, this passage, so very remarkable in history, fell out, in which Virgil had a great share.
Cæsar, about this time, either cloyed with glory, or terrified by the example of his predecessor, or to gain the credit of moderation with the people, or possibly to feel the pulse of his friends, deliberated whether he should retain the sovereign power, or restore the commonwealth. Agrippa, who was a very honest man, but whose view was of no great extent, advised him to the latter; but Mæcenas, who had thoroughly studied his master's temper, in an eloquent oration gave contrary advice. That emperor was too politic to commit the oversight of Cromwell, in a deliberation something resembling this. Cromwell had never been more desirous of the power, than he was afterwards of the title, of king; and there was nothing in which the heads of the parties, who were all his creatures, would not comply with him; but, by too vehement allegation of arguments against it, he, who had outwitted every body besides, at last outwitted himself by too deep dissimulation; for his council, thinking to make their court by assenting to his judgment, voted unanimously for him against his inclination; which surprised and troubled him to such a degree, that, as soon as he had got into his coach, he fell into a swoon.[276] But Cæsar knew his people better; and, his council being thus divided, he asked Virgil's advice. Thus a poet had the honour of determining the greatest point that ever was in debate, betwixt the son-in-law and favourite of Cæsar. Virgil delivered his opinion in words to this effect:
"The change of a popular into an absolute government has generally been of very ill consequence; for, betwixt the hatred of the people and injustice of the prince, it, of necessity, comes to pass, that they live in distrust, and mutual apprehensions. But, if the commons knew a just person, whom they entirely confided in, it would be for the advantage of all parties, that such a one should be their sovereign; wherefore, if you shall continue to administer justice impartially, as hitherto you have done, your power will prove safe to yourself, and beneficial to mankind." This excellent sentence, which seems taken out of Plato, (with whose writings the grammarians were not much acquainted, and therefore cannot reasonably be suspected of forgery in this matter,) contains the true state of affairs at that time: for the commonwealth maxims were now no longer practicable; the Romans had only the haughtiness of the old commonwealth left, without one of its virtues. And this sentence we find, almost in the same words, in the First Book of the "Æneïs," which at this time he was writing; and one might wonder that none of his commentators have taken notice of it. He compares a tempest to a popular insurrection, as Cicero had compared a sedition to a storm, a little before:
Ac veluti, magno in populo, cum sæpe coorta est Seditio, sævitque animis ignobile vulgus, Jamque faces, et saxa volant; furor arma ministrat: Tum pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant: Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet.
Piety and merit were the two great virtues which Virgil every where attributes to Augustus, and in which that prince, at least politicly, if not so truly, fixed his character, as appears by the Marmor Ancyr. and several of his medals. Franshemius, the learned supplementor of Livy, has inserted this relation into his history; nor is there any good reason, why Ruæus should account it fabulous. The title of a poet in those days did not abate, but heighten, the character of the gravest senator. Virgil was one of the best and wisest men of his time, and in so popular esteem, that one hundred thousand Romans rose when he came into the theatre, and paid him the same respect they used to Cæsar himself, as Tacitus assures us. And, if Augustus invited Horace to assist him in writing his letters, (and every body knows that the "Rescripta Imperatorum" were the laws of the empire,) Virgil might well deserve a place in the cabinet-council.
And now he prosecutes his "Æneïs," which had anciently the title of the "Imperial Poem," or "Roman History," and deservedly: for, though he were too artful a writer to set down events in exact historical order, for which Lucan is justly blamed; yet are all the most considerable affairs and persons of Rome comprised in this poem. He deduces the history of Italy from before Saturn to the reign of King Latinus; and reckons up the successors of Æneas, who reigned at Alba, for the space of three hundred years, down to the birth of Romulus; describes the persons and principal exploits of all the kings, to their expulsion, and the settling of the commonwealth. After this, he touches promiscuously the most remarkable occurrences at home and abroad, but insists more particularly upon the exploits of Augustus; insomuch that, though this assertion may appear at first a little surprising, he has in his works deduced the history of a considerable part of the world from its original, through the fabulous and heroic ages, through the monarchy and commonwealth of Rome, for the space of four thousand years, down to within less than forty of our Saviour's time, of whom he has preserved a most illustrious prophecy. Besides this, he points at many remarkable passages of history under feigned names: the destruction of Alba and Veii, under that of Troy; the star Venus, which, Varro says, guided Æneas in his voyage to Italy, in that verse,
Matre deâ monstrante viam.
Romulus's lance taking root, and budding, is described in that passage concerning Polydorus, Æneïd, iii.
——Confixum ferrea texit Telorum seges, et jaculis increvit acutis—
The stratagem of the Trojans boring holes in their ships, and sinking them, lest the Latins should burn them, under that fable of their being transformed into sea-nymphs; and therefore the ancients had no such reason to condemn that fable as groundless and absurd. Cocles swimming the river Tyber, after the bridge was broken down behind him, is exactly painted in the four last verses of the ninth book, under the character of Turnus: Marius hiding himself in the morass of Minturnæ, under the person of Sinon:
Limosoque lacu per noctem obscurus in ulvâ Delitui.[277]
Those verses in the second book concerning Priam,
----jacet ingens littore truncus, &c.
seem originally made upon Pompey the Great. He seems to touch the imperious and intriguing humour of the Empress Livia, under the character of Juno. The irresolute and weak Lepidus is well represented under the person of King Latinus; Augustus with the character of Pont. Max. under that of Æneas; and the rash courage (always unfortunate in Virgil) of Marc Antony, in Turnus; the railing eloquence of Cicero in his "Philippics" is well imitated in the oration of Drances; the dull faithful Agrippa, under the person of Achates; accordingly this character is flat: Achates kills but one man, and himself receives one slight wound, but neither says nor does any thing very considerable in the whole poem. Curio, who sold his country for about two hundred thousand pounds, is stigmatized in that verse,—
Vendidit hic auro patriam, dominumque potentem Imposuit.
Livy relates, that, presently after the death of the two Scipios in Spain, when Martius took upon him the command, a blazing meteor shone around his head, to the astonishment of his soldiers. Virgil transfers this to Æneas:
Lætasque vomunt duo tempora flammas.
It is strange, that the commentators have not taken notice of this. Thus the ill omen which happened a little before the battle of Thrasymen, when some of the centurions' lances took fire miraculously, is hinted in the like accident which befel Acestes, before the burning of the Trojan fleet in Sicily. The reader will easily find many more such instances. In other writers, there is often well-covered ignorance; in Virgil, concealed learning.
His silence of some illustrious persons is no less worth observation. He says nothing of Scævola, because he attempted to assassinate a king, though a declared enemy; nor of the younger Brutus; for he effected what the other endeavoured; nor of the younger Cato, because he was an implacable enemy of Julius Cæsar; nor could the mention of him be pleasing to Augustus; and that passage,
His dantem jura Catonem——
may relate to his office, as he was a very severe censor. Nor would he name Cicero, when the occasion of mentioning him came full in his way, when he speaks of Catiline; because he afterwards approved the murder of Cæsar, though the plotters were too wary to trust the orator with their design. Some other poets knew the art of speaking well; but Virgil, beyond this, knew the admirable secret, of being eloquently silent. Whatsoever was most curious in Fabius Pictor, Cato the elder, Varro, in the Egyptian antiquities, in the form of sacrifice, in the solemnities of making peace and war, is preserved in this poem. Rome is still above ground, and flourishing in Virgil. And all this he performs with admirable brevity. The "Æneïs" was once near twenty times bigger than he left it; so that he spent as much time in blotting out, as some moderns have done in writing whole volumes. But not one book has his finishing strokes. The sixth seems one of the most perfect, the which, after long entreaty, and sometimes threats, of Augustus, he was at last prevailed upon to recite. This fell out about four years before his own death: that of Marcellus, whom Cæsar designed for his successor, happened a little before this recital: Virgil therefore, with his usual dexterity, inserted his funeral panegyric in those admirable lines, beginning,
O nate, ingentem luctum ne quære tuorum, &c.
His mother, the excellent Octavia, the best wife of the worst husband that ever was, to divert her grief, would be of the auditory. The poet artificially deferred the naming Marcellus, till their passions were raised to the highest; but the mention of it put both her and Augustus into such a passion of weeping, that they commanded him to proceed no further. Virgil answered, that he had already ended that passage. Some relate, that Octavia fainted away; but afterwards she presented the poet with two thousand one hundred pounds, odd money: a round sum for twenty-seven verses; but they were Virgil's. Another writer says, that, with a royal magnificence, she ordered him massy plate, unweighed, to a great value.
And now he took up a resolution of travelling into Greece, there to set the last hand to this work; proposing to devote the rest of his life to philosophy, which had been always his principal passion. He justly thought it a foolish figure for a grave man to be overtaken by death, whilst he was weighing the cadence of words, and measuring verses, unless necessity should constrain it, from which he was well secured by the liberality of that learned age. But he was not aware, that, whilst he allotted three years for the revising of his poem, he drew bills upon a failing bank: for, unhappily meeting Augustus at Athens, he thought himself obliged to wait upon him into Italy; but, being desirous to see all he could of the Greek antiquities, he fell into a languishing distemper at Megara. This, neglected at first, proved mortal. The agitation of the vessel (for it was now autumn, near the time of his birth,) brought him so low, that he could hardly reach Brindisi. In his sickness, he frequently, and with great importunity, called for his scrutoir, that he might burn his "Æneïs:" but, Augustus interposing by his royal authority, he made his last will, (of which something shall be said afterwards;) and, considering probably how much Homer had been disfigured by the arbitrary compilers of his works, obliged Tucca and Varius to add nothing, nor so much as fill up the breaks he left in his poem. He ordered that his bones should be carried to Naples, in which place he had passed the most agreeable part of his life. Augustus, not only as executor and friend, but according to the duty of the Pontifex Maximus, when a funeral happened in his family, took care himself to see the will punctually executed. He went out of the world with all that calmness of mind with which the ancient writer of his life says he came into it; making the inscription of his monument himself; for he began and ended his poetical compositions with an epitaph. And this he made, exactly according to the law of his master Plato on such occasions, without the least ostentation:
I sung flocks, tillage, heroes; Mantua gave Me life, Brundusium death, Naples a grave.
A SHORT ACCOUNT OF HIS PERSON, MANNERS, AND FORTUNE.
He was of a very swarthy complexion, which might proceed from the southern extraction of his father; tall and wide-shouldered, so that he may be thought to have described himself under the character of Musæus, whom he calls the best of poets—
----Medium nam plurima turba Hunc habet, atque humeris extantem suspicit altis.
His sickliness, studies, and the troubles he met with, turned his hair gray before the usual time. He had a hesitation in his speech, as many other great men; it being rarely found that a very fluent elocution, and depth of judgment, meet in the same person: his aspect and behaviour rustic and ungraceful; and this defect was not likely to be rectified in the place where he first lived, nor afterwards, because the weakness of his stomach would not permit him to use his exercises. He was frequently troubled with the head-ach, and spitting of blood; spare of diet, and hardly drank any wine. Bashful to a fault; and, when people crowded to see him, he would slip into the next shop, or by-passage, to avoid them. As this character could not recommend him to the fair sex, he seems to have as little consideration for them as Euripides himself. There is hardly the character of one good woman to be found in his poems: he uses the word mulier but once in the whole "Æneïs," then too by way of contempt, rendering literally a piece of a verse out of Homer. In his "Pastorals," he is full of invectives against love: in the "Georgics," he appropriates all the rage of it to the females. He makes Dido, who never deserved that character, lustful and revengeful to the utmost degree, so as to die devoting her lover to destruction; so changeable, that the Destinies themselves could not fix the time of her death; but Iris, the emblem of inconstancy, must determine it. Her sister is something worse.[278] He is so far from passing such a compliment upon Helen, as the grave old counsellor in Homer does, after nine years' war, when, upon the sight of her, he breaks out into this rapture, in the presence of king Priam:
None can the cause of these long wars despise; The cost bears no proportion to the prize: Majestic charms in every feature shine; Her air, her port, her accent, is divine. However, let the fatal beauty go, &c.
Virgil is so far from this complaisant humour, that his hero falls into an unmanly and ill-timed deliberation, whether he should not kill her in a church;[279] which directly contradicts what Deiphobus says of her, Æneid vi., in that place where every body tells the truth. He transfers the dogged silence of Ajax's ghost to that of Dido; though that be no very natural character to an injured lover, or a woman. He brings in the Trojan matrons setting their own fleet on fire, and running afterwards, like witches on their sabbat, into the woods. He bestows indeed some ornaments on the character of Camilla; but soon abates his favour, by calling her aspera and horrenda virgo: he places her in the front of the line for an ill omen of the battle, as one of the ancients has observed. We may observe, on this occasion, it is an art peculiar to Virgil, to intimate the event by some preceding accident. He hardly ever describes the rising of the sun, but with some circumstance which fore-signifies the fortune of the day. For instance, when Æneas leaves Africa and Queen Dido, he thus describes the fatal morning:
Tithoni croceum linquens Aurora cubile.
[And, for the remark, we stand indebted to the curious pencil of Pollio.] The Mourning Fields (Æneid vi.) are crowded with ladies of a lost reputation: hardly one man gets admittance; and that is Cæneus, for a very good reason. Latinus's queen is turbulent and ungovernable, and at last hangs herself: and the fair Lavinia is disobedient to the oracle, and to the king, and looks a little flickering after Turnus. I wonder at this the more, because Livy represents her as an excellent person, and who behaved herself with great wisdom in her regency during the minority of her son; so that the poet has done her wrong, and it reflects on her posterity. His goddesses make as ill a figure: Juno is always in a rage, and the Fury of heaven; Venus grows so unreasonably confident, as to ask her husband to forge arms for her bastard son, which were enough to provoke one of a more phlegmatic temper than Vulcan was. Notwithstanding all this raillery of Virgil's, he was certainly of a very amorous disposition, and has described all that is most delicate in the passion of love: but he conquered his natural inclination by the help of philosophy, and refined it into friendship, to which he was extremely sensible. The reader will admit of or reject the following conjecture, with the free leave of the writer, who will be equally pleased either way. Virgil had too great an opinion of the influence of the heavenly bodies: and, as an ancient writer says, he was born under the sign of Virgo; with which nativity he much pleased himself, and would exemplify her virtues in his life. Perhaps it was thence that he took his name of Virgil and Parthenias, which does not necessarily signify base-born. Donatus and Servius, very good grammarians, give a quite contrary sense of it. He seems to make allusion to this original of his name in that passage,
Illo Virgilium me tempore dulcis alebat Parthenope.
And this may serve to illustrate his compliment to Cæsar, in which he invites him into his own constellation,
Where, in the void of heaven, a place is free, Betwixt the Scorpion and the maid, for thee—
thus placing him betwixt Justice and Power, and in a neighbour mansion to his own; for Virgil supposed souls to ascend again to their proper and congenial stars. Being therefore of this humour, it is no wonder that he refused the embraces of the beautiful Plotia, when his indiscreet friend almost threw her into his arms.
But however he stood affected to the ladies, there is a dreadful accusation brought against him for the most unnatural of all vices, which, by the malignity of human nature, has found more credit in latter times than it did near his own. This took not its rise so much from the "Alexis," in which pastoral there is not one immodest word, as from a sort of ill-nature, that will not let any one be without the imputation of some vice; and principally because he was so strict a follower of Socrates and Plato. In order, therefore, to his vindication, I shall take the matter a little higher.
The Cretans were anciently much addicted to navigation, insomuch that it became a Greek proverb, (though omitted, I think, by the industrious Erasmus,) a Cretan that does not know the sea. Their neighbourhood gave them occasion of frequent commerce with the Phœnicians, that accursed people, who infected the western world with endless superstitions, and gross immoralities. From them it is probable that the Cretans learned this infamous passion, to which they were so much addicted, that Cicero remarks, in his book "De Rep." that it was "a disgrace for a young gentleman to be without lovers." Socrates, who was a great admirer of the Cretan constitutions, set his excellent wit to find out some good cause and use of this evil inclination, and therefore gives an account, wherefore beauty is to be loved, in the following passage; for I will not trouble the reader, weary perhaps already, with a long Greek quotation. "There is but one eternal, immutable, uniform beauty; in contemplation of which, our sovereign happiness does consist: and therefore a true lover considers beauty and proportion as so many steps and degrees, by which he may ascend from the particular to the general, from all that is lovely of feature, or regular in proportion, or charming in sound, to the general fountain of all perfection. And if you are so much transported with the sight of beautiful persons, as to wish neither to eat nor drink, but pass your whole life in their conversation; to what ecstasy would it raise you to behold the original beauty, not filled up with flesh and blood, or varnished with a fading mixture of colours, and the rest of mortal trifles and fooleries, but separate, unmixed, uniform, and divine," &c. Thus far Socrates, in a strain much beyond the "Socrate Chrétien" of Mr Balzac: and thus that admirable man loved his Phædon, his Charmides, and Theætetus; and thus Virgil loved his Alexander and Cebes, under the feigned name of Alexis: he received them illiterate, but returned them to their masters, the one a good poet, and the other an excellent grammarian. And, to prevent all possible misinterpretations, he warily inserted, into the liveliest episode in the whole "Æneïs," these words,
Nisus amore pio pueri——
and, in the sixth, "Quique pii vates." He seems fond of the words, castus, pius, virgo, and the compounds of it: and sometimes stretches the use of that word further than one would think he reasonably should have done, as when he attributes it to Pasiphaë herself.
Another vice he is taxed with, is avarice, because he died rich; and so indeed he did, in comparison of modern wealth. His estate amounts to near seventy-five thousand pounds of our money: but Donatus does not take notice of this as a thing extraordinary; nor was it esteemed so great a matter, when the cash of a great part of the world lay at Rome. Antony himself bestowed at once two thousand acres of land, in one of the best provinces of Italy, upon a ridiculous scribbler, who is named by Cicero and Virgil. A late cardinal used to purchase ill flattery at the expence of a hundred thousand crowns a year. But, besides Virgil's other benefactors, he was much in favour with Augustus, whose bounty to him had no limits, but such as the modesty of Virgil prescribed to it. Before he had made his own fortune, he settled his estate upon his parents and brothers; sent them yearly large sums, so that they lived in great plenty and respect; and, at his death, divided his estate betwixt duty and gratitude, leaving one half to his relations, and the other to Mæcenas, to Tucca, and Varius, and a considerable legacy to Augustus, who had introduced a politic fashion of being in every body's will; which alone was a fair revenue for a prince. Virgil shows his detestation of this vice, by placing in the front of the damned those who did not relieve their relations and friends; for the Romans hardly ever extended their liberality further; and therefore I do not remember to have met, in all the Latin poets, one character so noble as that short one in Homer:
——Φιλος δ' ἦν ανθρωποισι; Παντας γαρ φιλεεσκεν.
On the other hand, he gives a very advanced place in Elysium to good patriots, &c. observing, in all his poem, that rule so sacred among the Romans, "That there should be no art allowed, which did not tend to the improvement of the people in virtue." And this was the principle too of our excellent Mr Waller, who used to say, that he would raze any line out of his poems, which did not imply some motive to virtue: but he was unhappy in the choice of the subject of his admirable vein in poetry. The Countess of Carlisle was the Helen of her country. There is nothing in Pagan philosophy more true, more just, and regular, than Virgil's ethics; and it is hardly possible to sit down to the serious perusal of his works, but a man shall rise more disposed to virtue and goodness, as well as most agreeably entertained; the contrary to which disposition may happen sometimes upon the reading of Ovid, of Martial, and several other second-rate poets. But of the craft and tricking part of life, with which Homer abounds, there is nothing to be found in Virgil; and therefore Plato, who gives the former so many good words, perfumes, crowns, but at last complimentally banishes him his commonwealth, would have entreated Virgil to stay with him, (if they had lived in the same age,) and entrusted him with some important charge in his government. Thus was his life as chaste as his style; and those who can critic his poetry, can never find a blemish in his manners; and one would rather wish to have that purity of mind, which the satirist himself attributes to him; that friendly disposition, and evenness of temper, and patience, which he was master of in so eminent a degree, than to have the honour of being author of the "Æneïs," or even of the "Georgics" themselves.
Having therefore so little relish for the usual amusements of the world, he prosecuted his studies without any considerable interruption, during the whole course of his life, which one may reasonably conjecture to have been something longer than fifty-two years; and therefore it is no wonder that he became the most general scholar that Rome ever bred, unless some one should except Varro. Besides the exact knowledge of rural affairs, he understood medicine, to which profession he was designed by his parents. A curious florist; on which subject one would wish he had writ, as he once intended: so profound a naturalist, that he has solved more phenomena of nature upon sound principles, than Aristotle in his Physics: he studied geometry, the most opposite of all sciences to a poetic genius, and beauties of a lively imagination; but this promoted the order of his narrations, his propriety of language, and clearness of expression, for which he was justly called the pillar of the Latin tongue. This geometrical spirit was the cause, that, to fill up a verse, he would not insert one superfluous word; and therefore deserves that character which a noble and judicious writer has given him, "That he never says too little, nor too much."[280] Nor could any one ever fill up the verses he left imperfect. There is one supplied near the beginning of the First Book. Virgil left the verse thus,
----Hic illius arma, Hic currus fuit——
the rest is none of his.
He was so good a geographer, that he has not only left us the finest description of Italy that ever was, but, besides, was one of the few ancients who knew the true system of the earth, its being inhabited round about, under the torrid zone, and near the poles. Metrodorus, in his five books of the "Zones," justifies him from some exceptions made against him by astronomers. His rhetoric was in such general esteem, that lectures were read upon it in the reign of Tiberius, and the subject of declamations taken out of him. Pollio himself, and many other ancients, commented him. His esteem degenerated into a kind of superstition. The known story of Mr Cowley is an instance of it[281]. But the sortes Virgilianæ were condemned by St Austin, and other casuists. Abienus, by an odd design, put all Virgil and Livy into iambic verse; and the pictures of those two were hung in the most honourable place of public libraries; and the design of taking them down, and destroying Virgil's works, was looked upon as one of the most extravagant amongst the many brutish phrenzies of Caligula.