animi vaticinatio appareat, quam religiosa orationis, sub testibus, fides. or spectres which have appeared. This, I say, is foundation enough for poetry; and I dare further affirm that the whole doctrine of separated beings, whether those 5 spirits are incorporeal substances (which Mr. Hobbs, with some reason, thinks to imply a contradiction), or that they are a thinner or more aërial sort of bodies (as some of the fathers have conjectured), may losophers or divines. For their speculations on this subject are wholly poetical; they have only their fancy for their guide; and that, being sharper in an excellent poet, than it is likely it should in a phlegmatic, heavy gownman, will see further in its own empire, and produce more satisfactory notions on those dark and doubtful problems. Some men think they have raised a great argument against the use of spectres and magic in heroic poetry by saying they are unnatural; but whether they or I believe there are such things is not material; 't is enough that, for aught we know, they may In which sentence, and his own essay of a poem, which immediately he gives you, it is thought he taxes Lucan, who followed too much the truth of history, crowded sentences together, was too full of points, and too often offered at somewhat which had more of the sting of an epigram, than of the dignity and state of an heroic poem. Lucan 10 better be explicated by poets than by phiused not much the help of his heathen deities: there was neither the ministry of the gods, nor the precipitation of the soul, nor the fury of a prophet (of which my author speaks), in his Pharsalia; he treats you 15 more like a philosopher than a poet, and instructs you, in verse, with what he had been taught by his uncle Seneca in prose. In one word, he walks soberly afoot, when he might fly. Yet Lucan is not always this 20 religious historian. The oracle of Appius, and the witchcraft of Erictho, will somewhat atone for him, who was, indeed, bound up by an ill-chosen and known argument, to follow truth with great exactness. For my 25 be in nature; and whatever is or may be, part, I am of opinion that neither Homer, Virgil, Statius, Ariosto, Tasso, nor our English Spenser, could have formed their poems half so beautiful, without those gods and spirits, and those enthusiastic parts of 30 poetry, which compose the most noble parts of all their writings. And I will ask any man who loves heroic poetry (for I will not dispute their tastes who do not), if the ghost of Polydorus in Virgil, the Enchanted Wood 35 in Tasso, and the Bower of Bliss in Spenser (which he borrows from that admirable Italian) could have been omitted, without taking from their works some of the greatest beauties in them. And if any man 40 poem. And if that be the most noble, the object the improbabilities of a spirit appearing, or of a palace raised by magic, I boldly answer him, that an heroic poet is not tied to a bare representation of what is true, or exceeding probable; but that he 45 justify my choice in this imitation. One may let himself loose to visionary objects, and to the representation of such things as depending not on sense, and therefore not to be comprehended by knowledge, may give him a freer scope for imagination. 'T is 50 sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, as Horace tells enough that, in all ages and religions, the greatest part of mankind have believed the power of magic, and that there are spirits is not properly unnatural. Neither am I much concerned at Mr. Cowley's verses before Gondibert (though his authority is almost sacred to me): 't is true, he has resembled the epic poetry to a fantastic fairyland; but he has contradicted himself by his own example. For he has himself made use of angels and visions in his Davideis, as well as Tasso in his Godfrey. What I have written on this subject will not be thought a digression by the reader, if he please to remember what I said in the beginning of this essay, that I have modelled my heroic plays by the rules of an heroic most pleasant, and the most instructive way of writing in verse, and withal the highest pattern of human life, as all poets have agreed, I shall need no other argument to advantage the drama has above the other, namely, that it represents to view what the poem only does relate: and, Segnius irritant animum demissa per aures, quam quæ us. To those who object my frequent use of drums and trumpets, and my representations disobeyed it, but returned him an answer full of contumely, and in the most opprobrious terms he could imagine. They are Homer's words which follow, and I have cited but 5 some few amongst a multitude: of battles, I answer, I introduced them not 20 Thus I have given a short account of heroic plays. I might now, with the usual 25 eagerness of an author, make a particular defence of this. But the common opinion (how unjust soever) has been so much to my advantage, that I have reason to be satisfied, and to suffer with patience all that can be 30 urged against it. For, otherwise, what can be more easy for me than to defend the character of Almanzor, which is one great exception that is made against the play? 'Tis said, 35 that Almanzor is no perfect pattern of heroic virtue, that he is a contemner of kings, and that he is made to perform impossibilities. I must therefore avow, in the first place, from whence I took the character. The 40 first image I had of him, was from the Achilles of Homer; the next from Tasso's Rinaldo (who was a copy of the former), and the third from the Artaban of Monsieur Calprenède, who has imitated both. The 45 original of these, Achilles, is taken by Homer for his hero; and is described by him as one, who in strength and courage surpassed the rest of the Grecian army; but withal of so fiery a temper, so impatient of an injury, 50 even from his king and general, that when his mistress was to be forced from him by the command of Agamemnon, he not only Οινοβαρές, κυνὸς ὄμματ ̓ ἔχων, κραδίην δ' ἐλάφοιο - Il. A. v. 225. II. A. v. 231. Δημοβόρος βασιλεύς, etc. Nay, he proceeded so far in his insolence, as to draw out his sword, with intention to kill him: Ελκετο δ ̓ ἐκ καλεοῖο μέγα ξίφος. Il. A. v. 194. And, if Minerva had not appeared, and held his hand, he had executed his design; and it was all she could do to dissuade him from it. The event was, that he left the army, and would fight no more. Agamemnon gives his character thus to Nestor: ̓Αλλ ̓ ὅδ ̓ ἀνὴρ ἐθέλει περὶ πάντων ἔμμεναι ἄλλων, Honoratum si fortè reponis Achillem, Tasso's chief character, Rinaldo, was a man of the same temper; for, when he had slain Gernando in his heat of passion, he not only refused to be judged by Godfrey, his general, but threatened that if he came to seize him, he would right himself by arms upon him; witness these following lines of Tasso: Venga egli, o mandi, io terrò fermo il piede: You see how little these great authors did esteem the point of honour, so much magnified by the French, and so ridiculously aped by us. They made their heroes men of honour; but so as not to divest them quite of human passions and frailties; they contented themselves to show you what men of great spirits would certainly do when they were provoked, not what they were obliged to do by the strict rules of moral virtue. For my own part, I declare myself for Homer and Tasso, and am more in love with Achilles and Rinaldo, than with Cyrus and Oroondates. I shall never subject my characters to the French standard, where love and honour are to be weighed by drachms and scruples. Yet, where I have designed the patterns of exact virtues, such as in this tory of Granada tells us; and Almanzor, though a stranger, yet was already known to them by his gallantry, in the juego de toros, his engagement on the weaker side, and 5 more especially by the character of his person and brave actions, given by Abdalla just before; and, after all, the greatness of the enterprise consisted only in the daring, for he had the king's guards to second him. play are the parts of Almahide, of Ozmyn, 10 But we have read both of Cæsar, and many and Benzayda, I may safely challenge the best of theirs. But Almanzor is taxed with changing sides: and what tie has he on him to the other generals, who have not only calmed a mutiny with a word, but have presented themselves single before an army of their enemies; which upon sight of them has over to their trenches. In the rest of Almanzor's actions you see him for the most part victorious; but the same fortune has constantly attended many heroes who were not imaginary. Yet you see it no inheritance to him; for, in the first place, he is made a prisoner, and, in the last, defeated, and not able to preserve the city from being taken. If the history of the late Duke of Guise be true, he hazarded more, and performed not less in Naples, than Almanzor is feigned to have done in Granada. contrary? He is not born their subject 15 revolted from their own leaders and come whom he serves, and he is injured by them to a very high degree. He threatens them, and speaks insolently of sovereign power; but so do Achilles and Rinaldo, who were subjects and soldiers to Agamemnon and 20 Godfrey of Bulloigne. He talks extravagantly in his passion; but, if I would take the pains to quote an hundred passages of Ben Jonson's Cethegus, I could easily show you that the rodomontades of Almanzor are 25 neither so irrational as his, nor so impossible to be put in execution; for Cethegus threatens to destroy Nature, and to raise a new one out of it; to kill all the Senate for I have been too tedious in this apology; but to make some satisfaction, I will leave his part of the action; to look Cato dead; 30 the rest of my play exposed to the critics and a thousand other things as extravagant he says, but performs not one action in the play. without defence. The concernment of it is wholly passed from me, and ought to be in them who have been favourable to it, and are somewhat there are errors in it, I deny not: Ast opere in tanto fas est obrepere somnum. But none of the former calumnies will stick: and, therefore, 't is at last charged 35 obliged to defend their own opinions. That upon me, that Almanzor does all things; or if you will have an absurd accusation, in their nonsense who make it, that he performs impossibilities. They say, that being a stranger, he appeases two fighting factions, 40 with the common good fortune of prosperous when the authority of their lawful sovereign could not. This is indeed the most improbable of all his actions, but 't is far from being impossible. Their king had made himself contemptible to his people, as the his- 45 gamesters, can be content to sit quietly; to hear my fortune cursed by some, and my faults arraigned by others, and to suffer both without reply. 1672 John Evelyn (1620-1706) DIARY JOURNALS 5 to meet with so far north, especially very good melons. We returned to my uncle's. September 3, 1658. Died that archrebel, Oliver Cromwell, called Protector. October 22. Saw the superb funeral of the Protector. He was carried from Somerset House in a velvet bed of state, drawn by six horses, housed with the same; the pall held by his new Lords; Oliver lying in March 9, 1652. I went to Deptford, where I made preparation for my settlement, no more intending to go out of England, but endeavor a settled life, either in this or some other place, there being now so little appearance of any change for the better, all 10 effigy, in royal robes, and crowned with a being entirely in the rebels' hands; and this particular habitation and the estate contiguous to it (belonging to my father-inlaw, actually in his Majesty's service) very crown, sceptre, and globe, like a king. The pendants and guidons were carried by the officers of the army; the Imperial banners, achievements, &c. by the heralds in their much suffering for want of some friend to 15 coats; a rich caparisoned horse, embroidered rescue it out of the power of the usurpers, so as to preserve our interest, and take some care of my other concerns, by the advice and endeavor of my friends I was advised to all over with gold; a knight of honour, armed cap-a-pie, and, after all, his guards, soldiers, and innumerable mourners. In this equipage, they proceeded to West ever saw; for there were none that cried but dogs, which the soldiers hooted away with a barbarous noise, drinking and taking tobacco in the streets as they went. reside in it, and compound with the soldiers. 20 minster: but it was the joyfullest funeral I This I was besides authorised by his Majesty to do, and encouraged with a promise that what was in lease from the Crown, if ever it pleased God to restore him, he would secure to us in fee-farm. I had also addresses 25 and cyphers, to correspond with his Majesty and Ministers abroad: upon all which inducements, I was persuaded to settle henceforth in England, having now run about the world, most part out on my own country, 30 with a triumph of above 20,000 horse and near ten years. I therefore now likewise meditated sending over for my wife, whom as yet I had left at Paris. August 9, 1654. To the old and ragged To the old and ragged May 29, 1660. This day, his Majesty, Charles the Second came to London, after a sad and long exile and calamitous suffering both of the King and Church, being seventeen years. This was also his birthday, and foot, brandishing their swords, and shouting with inexpressible joy; the ways strewed with flowers, the bells ringing, the streets hung with tapestry, fountains running with city of Leicester, large and pleasantly seated, 35 wine; the Mayor, Aldermen, and all the but despicably built, the chimney-flues like so many smiths' forges; however, famous for the tomb of the tyrant, Richard the Third, which is now converted to a cistern, at which (I think) cattle drink. Also, here 40 in one of the churches lies buried the magnificent Cardinal Wolsey. John of Gaunt has here also built a large but poor Hospital, near which a wretch has made him a house out of the ruins of a stately church. Saw 45 God. And all this was done without one the ruins of an old Roman Temple, thought to be of Janus. Entertained at a very fine collection of fruits, such as I did not expect Companies, in their liveries, chains of gold, and banners; Lords and Nobles, clad in cloth of silver, gold, and velvet; the windows and balconies, all set with ladies; trumpets, music, and myriads of people flocking, even so far as from Rochester, so as they were seven hours in passing the city, even from two in the afternoon till nine at night. I stood in the strand and beheld it, and blessed drop of blood shed, and by that very army which rebelled against him: but it was the Lord's doing, for such a restoration was never mentioned in any history, ancient or modern, since the return of the Jews from their Babylonish captivity; nor so joyful a day and so bright ever seen in this nation, this happening when to expect or effect it was past all human policy. September 2, 1666. This fatal night about ten, began the deplorable fire, near Fish-street, in London. Here, we saw the Thames covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on the other, the carts, &c., carrying out to 5 the fields, which for many miles were strewed with moveables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. Oh, the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the 3. I had public prayers at home. The 10 world had not seen since the foundation of it, fire continuing, after dinner, I took coach with my wife and son, and went to the Bankside in Southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful nor can be outdone till the universal conflagration thereof. All the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, and the light seen above forty miles round about flames near the water-side; all the houses 15 for many nights. God grant mine eyes may from the Bridge, all Thames-street, and upwards towards Cheapside, down to the Three Cranes, were now consumed; and so returned, exceeding astonished what would become of the rest. never behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one flame! The noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, 20 the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses and churches, was like a hideous storm; and the air all about so hot and inflamed, that at the last one was not able to approach it, so that they were forced to stand still, and let The fire having continued all this night (if I may call that night which was light as day for ten miles round about, after a dreadful manner), when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season, I went on 25 the flames burn on, which they did, for near foot to the same place; and saw the whole south part of the city burning from Cheap side to the Thames, and all along Cornhill (for it likewise kindled back against the wind two miles in length and one in breadth. The clouds also of smoke were dismal, and reached, upon computation, near fifty miles in length. Thus, I left it this afternoon burn as well as forward), Tower-street, Fenchurch- 30 ing, a resemblance of Sodom, or the last day. It forcibly called to my mind that passagenon enim hic habemus stabilem civitatem: the ruins resembling the picture of Troy. London was, but it is no more! Thus, I returned. May 26, 1703.- This day died Mr. Samuel Pepys, a very worthy, industrious and curious person, none in England exceeding him in knowledge of the navy, in which he had passed through all the most considerable street, Gracious-street, and so along to Baynard's Castle, and was now taking hold of St. Paul's Church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. The conflagration was so universal, and the people so aston-35 ished, that, from the beginning, I know not by what despondency, or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it; so that there was nothing heard, or seen, but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted 40 offices, Clerk of the Acts and Secretary of creatures, without at all attempting to save even their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, Exchange, hospitals, monu- 45 ments, and ornaments; leaping after a prodigious manner, from house to house, and street to street, at great distances one from the other. For the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, had even ignited the 50 air, and prepared the materials to conceive the fire, which devoured, after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and everything. the Admiralty, all which he performed with great integrity. When King James II went out of England, he laid down his office, and would serve no more; but withdrawing himself from all public affairs, he lived at Clapham with his partner, Mr. Hewer, formerly his clerk, in a very noble house and sweet place, where he enjoyed the fruit of his labours in great prosperity. He was universally beloved, hospitable, generous, learned in many things, skilled in music, a very great cherisher of learned men of whom he had the conversation. His library and collection of |