The Earl of Rochester's name is universally known.Mr.de St.
Evremont has made very frequent mention of him,but then he has represented this famous nobleman in no other light than as the man of pleasure,as one who was the idol of the fair;but,with regard to myself,I would willingly describe in him the man of genius,the great poet.Among other pieces which display the shining imagination,his lordship only could boast he wrote some satires on the same subjects as those our celebrated Boileau made choice of.Ido not know any better method of improving the taste than to compare the productions of such great geniuses as have exercised their talent on the same subject.Boileau declaims as follows against human reason in his "Satire on Man:""Cependant a le voir plein de vapeurs legeres,Soi-meme se bercer de ses propres chimeres,Lui seul de la nature est la baze et l'appui,Et le dixieme ciel ne tourne que pour lui.
De tous les animaux il est ici le maitre;
Qui pourroit le nier,poursuis tu?Moi peut-etre.
Ce maitre pretendu qui leur donne des loix,Ce roi des animaux,combien a-t'il de rois?""Yet,pleased with idle whimsies of his brain,And puffed with pride,this haughty thing would fain Be think himself the only stay and prop That holds the mighty frame of Nature up.
The skies and stars his properties must seem,***Of all the creatures he's the lord,he cries.
And who is there,say you,that dares deny So owned a truth?That may be,sir,do I.
This boasted monarch of the world who awes The creatures here,and with his nod gives laws This self-named king,who thus pretends to be The lord of all,how many lords has he?"OLDHAM,a little altered.
The Lord Rochester expresses himself,in his "Satire against Man,"in pretty near the following manner.But I must first desire you always to remember that the versions I give you from the English poets are written with freedom and latitude,and that the restraint of our versification,and the delicacies of the French tongue,will not allow a translator to convey into it the licentious impetuosity and fire of the English numbers:-"Cet esprit que je hais,cet esprit plein d'erreur,Ce n'est pas ma raison,c'est la tienne,docteur.
C'est la raison frivole,inquiete,orgueilleuse Des sages animaux,rivale dedaigneuse,Qui croit entr'eux et l'Ange,occuper le milieu,Et pense etre ici bas l'image de son Dieu.
Vil atome imparfait,qui croit,doute,dispute Rampe,s'eleve,tombe,et nie encore sa chute,Qui nous dit je suis libre,en nous montrant ses fers,Et dont l'oeil trouble et faux,croit percer l'univers.
Allez,reverends fous,bienheureux fanatiques,Compilez bien l'amas de vos riens scholastiques,Peres de visions,et d'enigmes sacres,Auteurs du labirinthe,ou vous vous egarez.
Allez obscurement eclaircir vos misteres,Et courez dans l'ecole adorer vos chimeres.
Il est d'autres erreurs,il est de ces devots Condamne par eux memes a l'ennui du repos.
Ce mystique encloitre,fier de son indolence Tranquille,au sein de Dieu.Que peut il faire?Il pense.
Non,tu ne penses point,miserable,tu dors:
Inutile a la terre,et mis au rang des morts.
Ton esprit enerve croupit dans la molesse.
Reveille toi,sois homme,et sors de ton ivresse.
L'homme est ne pour agir,et tu pretens penser?"&c.
The original runs thus:-
"Hold mighty man,I cry all this we know,And 'tis this very reason I despise,This supernatural gift that makes a mite Think he's the image of the Infinite;Comparing his short life,void of all rest,To the eternal and the ever blest.
This busy,puzzling stirrer up of doubt,That frames deep mysteries,then finds them out,Filling,with frantic crowds of thinking fools,Those reverend bedlams,colleges,and schools;Borne on whose wings each heavy sot can pierce The limits of the boundless universe.
So charming ointments make an old witch fly,And bear a crippled carcase through the sky.
'Tis this exalted power,whose business lies In nonsense and impossibilities.
This made a whimsical philosopher Before the spacious world his tub prefer;And we have modern cloistered coxcombs,who Retire to think,'cause they have naught to do.
But thoughts are given for action's government,Where action ceases,thought's impertinent."Whether these ideas are true or false,it is certain they are expressed with an energy and fire which form the poet.I shall be very far from attempting to examine philosophically into these verses,to lay down the pencil,and take up the rule and compass on this occasion;my only design in this letter being to display the genius of the English poets,and therefore I shall continue in the same view.
