It is no wonder that those scenes should be very furprising which were contrived by two poets of different nations, and raised by two magicians of different fexes. Armida (as we are told in the argument) was an Amazonian enchantress, and poor Signior Caffani (as we learn from the persons represented) a Christian-conjurer (Mago Chriftiano), I must confefs I am very much puzzled to find how an Amazon should be versed in the black art, or how a good Christian, for such is the part of the magican, should deal with the devil. To confider the poet after the conjuror, I shall give you a taste of the Italian from the first lines of his preface Eccoti, benigno lettore, un parto di poche fire, che se ben nato di notte, non è pero aborto di tenebre, mà fi farà conoscere figlio d'Apollo con qualche raggio di Parnaffo. "Behold, gentle reader, the birth of a few ، evenings, which, though it be the offspring of the ⚫ night, is not the abortive of darkness, but will make • itself known to be the fon of Apollo, with a certain 6 ray of Parnaffus.' He afterwards proceeds to call Mynheer Handel the Orpheus of our age, and to acquaint us, in the same sublimity of stile, that he composed this opera in a fortnight. Such are the wits to whose taftes we fo ambitiously conform ourselves. The truth of it is, the finest writers among the modern Italians express themselves in fuch a florid form of words, and fuch tedious circumlocutions, as are ufed by none but pedants in our own country; and at the fame time fill their writings with fuch poor imaginations and conceits, as our youths are ashamed of be. fore they have been two years at the university. Some may be apt to think that it is the difference of genius which produces the difference in the works of the two nations; but to shew there is nothing in this, if we look into the writings of the old Italians, such as Ciccro and Virgil, we shall find that the English writers, in their way of thinking and expressing themselves, refemble those authors much more than the modern Italians pretend to do. And as for the poet himself, from whom the dreams of this opera are taken, I must intirely agree 1 with Monfieur Boileau, that one verse in Virgil is worth all the Clincant or Tinfel of Taffo. But to return to the sparrows; there have been fo many flights of them let loose in this opera, that it is feared the house will never get rid of them; and that in other plays they may make their entrance in very wrong and improper scenes, so as to be seen flying in a Lady's bed-chamber, or perching upon a King's throne; befides the inconveniencies which the heads of the audiences may fometimes fuffer from them. I am credibly informed, that there was once a design of cafting into an opera the story of Whittington and his cat, and that in order to it, there had been got together a great quantity of mice; but Mr. Rich, the proprietor of the play-house, very prudently confidered that it would be impoffible for the cat to kill them all, and that conse. quently the princes of the stage might be as much infefted with mice, as the prince of the ifland was before the cat's arrival upon it; for which reason he would not permit it to be acted in his house. And indeed I cannot blame him; for, as he faid very well upon that occafion, I do not hear that any of the performers in our opera pretend to equal the famous pied piper, who made all the mice of a great town in Germany follow his music, and by that means cleared the place of those little noxious animals. Before I dismiss this paper, I must inform my reader, that I hear there is a treaty on foot with London and Wife (who will be appointed gardeners of the playhouse) to furnish the opera of Rinaldo and Arınida with an orange-grove; and that the next time it is acted, the finging-birds will be perfonated by tom-tits; the undertakers being refolved to spare neither pains nor money for the gratification of the audience. C. No. VI. No. VI. WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7. Credebant hoc grande nefas, & morte piandum, Juv. 'Twas impious then (so much was age rever'd) comnion. I Know no evil under the fun so great as the abuse of the understanding, and yet there is no one vice more It has diffused itself through both sexes, and all qualities of mankind; and there is hardly that person to be found, who is not more concerned for the reputation of wit and sense than honesty and virtue. But this unhappy affectation of being wife rather than honest, witty than good-natur'd, is the fource of most of the ill habits of life. Such false impreffions are owing to the abandoned writings of men of wit, and the awkward imitation of the rest of mankind. For this reafon Sir Roger was faying last night, that he was of opinion, none but men of fine parts deferve to be hanged. The reflections of fuch men are so delicate upon all occurrences which they are concerned in, that they should be exposed to more than ordinary infamy and punishment for offending against fuch quick admonitions as their own fouls give them, and blunting the fine edge of their minds in such a manner, that they are no more shocked at vice and folly than men of flower capacities. There is no greater monster in being than a very ill man of great parts; he lives like a man in a palsy, with one fide of him dead: While perhaps he enjoys the fatisfaction of luxury, of wealth, of ambition, he has loft the taste of good-will, of friendship, of innocence. Scarecrow, the beggar in Lincoln's Inn-fields, who difabled himself in his right leg, and afsks alms all day to get himself a warm supper and a trull at night, is not half so despicable a wretch as fuch a man of fenfe. The beggar has no relish above fenfarions; he finds reft more agreeable than motion; and while he has a warm 1 fire and his doxy, never reflects that he deferves to be whipped. Every man who terminates his fatisfactions and enjoyments within the fupply of his own neceffities and paffions, is, fays Sir Roger, in my eye, as poor a rogue as Scarecrow. But, continued he, for the lofs of public and private virtue, we are beholden to your men of parts forfooth; it is with them no matter what is done, fo it be done with an air. But to me, who am so whimfical in a corrupt age as to act according to nature and reafon, a felfish man, in the most shining circumstance and equipage, appears in the same condition with the fellow above-mentioned, but more contemptible in proportion to what more he robs the public of, and enjoys above him. I lay it down therefore for a rule, that the whole man is to move together; that every action of any importance is to have a prospect of public good; and that the general tendency of our indifferent actions ought to be agreeable to the dictates of reason, of religion, of good breeding: without this, a man, as I before have hinted, is hopping inftead of walking; he is not in his intire and proper motion. While the honeft knight was thus bewildering himself in good starts, I looked attentively upon him, which made him, I thought, collect his mind a little. What I aim at, says he, is to reprefent that I am of opinion, to polish our understandings and neglect our manners, is of all things the most inexcusable. Reason should govern paffion, but instead of that, you fee, it is often fubfervient to it; and as unaccountable as one would think it, a wife man is not always a good man. This degeneracy is not only the gift of particular perfons, but at fome times of a whole people: and perhaps it may appear upon examination, that the most polite ages are the leaft virtuous. This may be attributed to the folly of admitting wit and learning as merit in themselves, without confidering the application of them. By this means it becomes a rule, not so much to regard what we do, as how we do it. But this false beauty will not pass upon men of honest minds and true taste. Sir Richard Blackmore fays, with as much good sense as virtue, "It is a "mighty mighty dishonour and shame to employ excellent fa"culties and abundance of wit to humour, and please " men in their vices and follies. The great enemy of " mankind, notwithstanding his wit and angelic facul"ties, is the most odious being in the whole creation." He goes on foon after to say very generously, that he undertook the writing of his poem "to refcue the Mufes "out of the hands of ravishers, to restore them to their "sweet and chaite mansions, and to engage them in an " employment suitable to their dignity." This certainly ought to be the purpose of every man who appears in public; and whoever does not proceed upon that foundation, injures his country as fast as he succeeds in his studies. When modesty ceases to be the chief ornament of one sex, and integrity of the other, society is upon a wrong basis, and we shall be ever after without rules to guide our judgment in what is really becoming and ornamental. Nature and reason direct one thing, passion and humour another: to follow the dictates of the two latter, is going into a road that is both endless and intricate; when we pursue the other our passage is delightful, and what we aim at easily attainable. I do not doubt but England is at present as polite a nation as any in the world; but any man who thinks, can eafily fee that the affectation of being gay and in fashion, has very near eaten up our good sense and our religion. Is there any thing so just, as that mode and gallantry should be built upon exerting ourselves in what is proper and agreeable to the institutions of justice and piety among us! And yet is there any thing more common than that we run in perfect contradiction to them! All which is fupported by no other pretension, than that it is done with what we call a good grace. Nothing ought to be held laudable or becoming but what nature itself should prompt us to think so. Refpect to all kind of fuperiors is founded, methinks, upon instinct; and yet what is so ridiculous as age! I make this abrupt transition to the mention of this vice more than any other, in order to introduce a little story; which I think E2 |