Reflections on Aristotle's treatise of poesie containing the necessary, rational, and universal rules for epick, dramatick, and the other sorts of poetry : with reflections on the works of the ancient and modern poets, and their faults noted / by R. Rapin.

XL.

ANd to close, in a last Reflection, all the others that can be made, the Poet must understand that the great se∣cret of the Art is to work his matter well, and to execute happily what he had design'd with all the attention his Subject requires; that he know al∣wayes,

that in great works he may be negligent in certain places, which regu∣larly ought to be neglected; that all may not be finish'd alike, and what is finish'd may appear so the more, among the studied negligences. These strokes less perfect then the rest, and these inequali∣ties of expression which Art requires, are as necessary to Poesie, as the s••ades to a Painter, which serve to give lustre to the other parts of his work. 'Tis the fault of the mean wits, to express things more high than they ought to be expres∣sed. So, the Poet must take heed that he run not with the young Writers into the florid stile, by his excessive orna∣ments, and far-fetch't beauties; that he retrench boldly what is too luxuriant, for all becomes false in Poetry, that glit∣ters too much. The Poet is in no wise natural, who will be alwayes speaking fine things: he will not be so prodig••l of his wit, when he hath wit form'd as it ought to be; for all he speaks is worth nothing, if he will be speaking too fine∣ly. The course he must take to come at good sense, is to have yet a greater care in his expression of things, than in his words, because it is in the things he must search the principal graces of his dis∣course.

The discourse must be diversi∣••••'d by the variety of expressions, be∣cause the same images tire the mind of the Reader: and there must not only be frequent ••igures in the words, but al∣so different turns in the thoughts. The narrow and limited wits are alwayes sinding themselves, and by the barren∣ness of their Genius, become like that player of the Lute in Horace, who could onely strike on one string. For the rest, it is good to be mindful, that none must meddle with making Verses, who does not make them excellently, and does not distinguish himself from others. For since none is oblig'd to make them, to what end should he crack his brain, and hazard his Reputation, unless he acquit himself well? he may know likewise that Poetry will be no honour to men of little sense; and that the appetite of ••••rse-making is a dangerous malady, when it seizes on an indifferent wit: that he is liable to all extravagancies imagi∣nable, who is taken therewith and wants a Genius: that he should be endu'd with submission▪ and be docible, that he fall not into this misfortune. For after the manner men live at present, he may ••ind everywhere some or other who out of

charity or ill humour, are alwayes ready to give him advice: that the greatest fault of a Poet is to be indocible; and that nothing hath made so many b••d Poets, as Flattery, which will be continu∣ally buzzing in his ears, and daub••ng him on that occasion, so soon as he begins to tamper with writing Verse; especially it is to be consider'd, that he should ap∣ply himself betimes to this mystery, to attain any perfection: that he may ••orm his imagination to that d••licate ayre, which is not to be had, but from the first Idea's of our youth. Iulius and Ioseph Scaliger could not succeed here∣in, for having begun this study too late, neither of them could overcome the stiffness of their Genius, which had be∣fore bent their wit another way: and though the Son was more polite than his Father, yet had he nothing of elegancy, or graceful in his Poetry, no more than the other learned men of his time; and that he who aspires to the glory of this profession, may reckon that he hath much more to lose, than to gain▪ by wri∣ting Verse, in an Age so squeamish as this of ours. We are no longer in that Age, when men got reputation by their fool-hardy writing: then it was no diffi∣cult

matter to impose, seeing what glit∣ter'd, was more respected than what was solid: and one may reflect that nothing can now succeed in Poetry, unless it be delicately conceiv'd, and form'd with the utmost regularity, and set off with all the grace and happiness of expression: that Verse are not tolerable, if but indifferent; and are ridiculous, unless they be admi∣rable. That finally, true Poetry is not perceiv'd▪ but by the impression it makes on the Soul; it is not as it should be, unless it go to the heart: hence it is that Homer animates me, Virgil heats me, and all the rest freez me, so cold and flat they are.

This is what may be said in General of Poetry, after follows the Par∣ticular.