next Q.

inquire; Why England, the mother of excellent minds, fhould be grown fo hard a step-mother to Poets; who, certainly, in wit, ought to pafs all others, fince all only proceeds from their wit, being, indeed, makers of themselves, not takers of others. How can I but exclaim,

Mufa miki caufas memora quo numine lafo

Sweet Pocfy, that hath antiently had kings, emperors, fenators, great. captains, fuch as, befides a thousand others, David, Adrian, Sophocles, Germanicus, not only to favour Poets, but to be Poets: and of our nearer times, can prefent for her patrons, a Robert king of Sicily; the great king Francis of France; king James of Scotland; fuch cardinals as Bembus and Bibiena; fuch famous preachers and teachers as Beza and Melanithon; fo learned philofophers as Fracaftorius and Scaliger; fo great orators as Pontanus and «Muretus; fo piercing wits as George Buchanan fo grave counsellors, as befides many, but before all, that Hofpital of France; than whom, I think, that realm never brought forth a more accomplished judgment, more firmly builded upon' virtue; I say, Thefe, with numbers of others, not only to read others Poefies, but to poetife for others reading that Poefy, thus embraced, in all other places, fhould only find, in our time, a a hard welcome in England; I think the very

earth

earth laments it, and therefore decks our foil with fewer laurels than it was accustomed. For heretofore Poets have in England also flourished; and, which is to be noted, even in those times, when the trumpet of Mars did found loudeft. And now, that an over-faint quietness fhould feem to ftrew the house for Poets, they are, almoft, in as good reputation, as the Mountebanks at Venice. Truly, even that, as of the one fide it giveth great praise to Poefy, which, like Venus (but to better pupofe) had rather be troubled in the net with Mars, than enjoy the homely quiet of Vulcan; fo ferveth it for a piece of a reason, why they are lefs grateful to idle England, which now can scarce endure the pain of a pen. Upon this, neceffarily followeth, That base men, with fervile wits, undertake it, who think it enough if they can be rewarded of the printer and fo as Epaminondas is faid, with the honour of his virtue, to have made an office, by his exercifing it, which before was contemptible, to become highly refpected; fo thefe men, no more but setting their names to it, by their own difgracefulness, difgrace the most graceful Poefy. For now, as if all the mufes were got with child, to bring forth baftard Poets, without any commiffion, they do poft over the banks of Helicon, until they make the readers more weary than poft-horfes; while, in the mean time, they

:

.

Queis

Queis meliore luto finxit præcordia Titan,

are better content to fupprefs the out-flowings of their wit, than by publishing them to be accounted Knights of the fame order.

But I that, before ever I durft aspire unto the dignity, am admitted into the company of the Paper-blurrers, do find the very true caufe of our wanting estimation, is want of defert, taking upon us to be Poets in defpight of Pallas. Now wherein we want defert, were a thank-worthy labour to exprefs. But if I knew, I should have mended myself; but as I never defired the title, so have I neglected the means to come by it; only, over mastered by fome thoughts, I yielded an inky tribute unto them. Marry, they that delight in Poesy itself, fhould seek to know what they do and how they do, especially, look themselves in an unflattering glafs of reafon, if they be inclinable unto it.

For Poefy must not be drawn by the cars, it must be gently led, or rather it must lead; which was partly the caufe that made the antient learned affirm, It was a divine, and no human fkill, fince all other knowledges lie ready for any that have ftrength of Wit: A Poet et no industry can make, if his own genius be not carried into it. And therefore is an old proverb, Orator fit, Poeta nafcitur. Yet confefs I always, That as the fertileft ground must be manured,

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fo muft the highest flying wit have a Dadalus to guide him. That Dadalus, they say, both in this, and in other, hath three wings to bear itfelf up into the air of due commendation; that is, Art, Imitation, and Exercife. But thefe, neither artificial rules, nor imitative patterns, we much cumber ourselves withal. Exercife, indeed, we do, but that, very fore-backwardly; for where we fhould exercise to know, we exercise as having known; and fo is our brain delivered of much matter, which never was begotten by knowlege. For there being two principal parts, matter to be expreffed by words, and words to express the matter, in neither, we use art or imitation rightly. Our matter is Quodlibet, indeed, though wrongly performing Ovid's verfe:

Quicquid conabor dicere, verfus erit.

Never marshalling it into any affured rank, that, almoft, the readers cannot tell where to find themselves.

Chaucer, undoubtedly, did excellently in his Troilus and Creffida; of whom, truly, I know not whether to marvel more, either that he, in that mifty time, could fee fo clearly, or that we, in this clear age, go fo ftumblingly after him. Yet had he great wants, fit to be forgiven in fo great an antiquity. I account The Mirror of Magiftrates,

F

First

verse

ordarem

Magistrates, meetly furnished of beautiful parts. And in the Earl of Surrey's Lyricks, many things tafting of a noble birth, and worthy of a noble mind. The Shepherd's Kalander hath much Poefy in his Eclogues, ir.deed, worthy the reading, if I be not deceived. That fame framing of his stile to an old ruftick language, I dare not allow fince neither Theocritus in Greek, Virgil in Latin, nor Sannazaro in Italian, did affect it. Befides thefe, I do not remember to have seen but few (to speak boldly) printed that have poetical finews in them. For proof whereof, let but most of the verfes be put in proof, and then afk the meaning, and it will be found, that one verfe did but beget another, without ordering, at the firft, what should be at the laft; which becomes a confused mafs of words, with

but a tinkling found of rhyme, barely accompanied

reason

with reafon.

Our tragedies and comedies, not without cause, are cried out againft, obferving rules neither of honeft civility, nor fkilful poetry. Excepting Gorboduc (again I say of those that I have seen) which notwithstanding, as it is full of stately speeches, and well-founding phrafes, climbing to the height of Seneca his ftile, and as full of notable morality, which it doth most delightfully teach, and fo obtain the very end of Poesy; yet, in truth, it is very defectuous in the circumStances, which grieves me, because it might not