the more ftrongly in our memory. It cannot be denied but that Lucretius is a fage and difcreet writer; nor is there in all his poem any token or footstep of intemperance: nay, there are many excellent things contained in it, and many that well deferve to be read and remembered: for, in the first place, he teaches that they only are fit to be trufted with the adminiftration of the government, who excel others in prudence, wisdom, and moderation. How difcreetly and strongly too does he argue for the reftraint of ambition, and for avoiding the miferies of inteftine divifions and civil wars; the calamities that in his days afflicted the republic of Rome! He extols philofophy, and the studies of the wife in a style incredibly fublime. How beautiful is his poetry when he treats of ferenity of mind, and of the contempt of death! In how many places, and in how excellent and almoft divine a diction, does he confute the fuperftition of the vulgar, and their fabulous belief of the torments of hell! How elegantly does he detect the frauds, and deride the vanity of aftrologers! Not to mention with how great feverity he diffuades from avarice, and fhows the many ills that arise from the greediness of riches; nor how wholefome are his inftructions concerning temperance, frugality of nons of the heavens, he advances indeed feveral Thomas Scauranus. How Carus alone, of all the Aufonian bards, in fearch of truth employed his painful mufe, greedy to view the fecret holds of nature, and towering, foar even to the immortal gods: but oft, alas! he fwerves, by thee milled, O Epicurus, from the paths of truth. Quintus Serenus in his Poem of Phyfic. If, after many years of kind endeavours, no tender offspring blefs the nuptial joys; whether the female or the male be curfed with barrenness, shall be unfung by me: The fourth of great Lucretius folves the doubt. Michael Du Fay in his Epifle Dedicatory to the Dauphin of France, only Son to the Moft Chriftian King Lewis XIV. Though in the writings of Lucretius there are fome opinions that difagree with the doctrine of the Chriftian religion; yet, of all the Latin authors, he is esteemed to be the most judicious and elegant. For, laying afide the veil of fables, he difputes, plainly, accurately, and with great strength of wit, concerning the whole Nature of Things: his language is entirely correct and pure, his diction exceeding elegant, his ftyle plain and eafy, though at the fame time domeftic and fublime: his poeni abounds with a wonderful plenty of moral fentences; and the admirable connection obferved through the whole, is indeed surprising: By the lecture of it, not to mention the other advantages, blows of fortune, a greater fortitude against the we may acquire a nobler magnanimity against the fear of death, a kronger conftancy against fuperfition, and a more conftant temperance against the burning rage of luft. Add to this, that, excepting a few foolish affertions and impieties, he delivers many things that are confonant to truth and reafon; more, to good manners; and that fome of his difputations are almoft divine. As bees, therefore, gather from each flower only what is useful and proper to make honey; fo too, moft judicious prince, do you accurately and diligently collect from this author, only what feems to conduce to Mr. Dryden in bis Preface to the second Volume of I have, in the next place, to confider the genius of Lucretius. If he was not of the best age of Roman poetry, he was at leaft of that which preceded it; and he himself refined it to that degree of perfection, both in the language and the thoughts, that he left an eafy talk to Virgil, who, as he fucceeded him in time, fo he copied his excellencies for the method of the Georgics is plainly derived from him. he therefore adorned it with poetical defcriptions, Lucretius had chofen a fubje&t naturally crabbed; and precepts of morality in the beginning and ending of his books; which you fee Virgil has imitated with great fuccefs in those four books, which, in my opinion, are more perfect in their kind than even his divine Æneids. The turn of his verfes he has likewife followed in those places which Lucretius has mof laboured, and fome of his very lines he has tranfplanted into his own works, with out much variation, If I am not mistaken, the diftinguishing character of Lucretius, I mean his foul and genius, is a certain kind of noble pride and pofitive affertion of his own opinions. He is every where confident of his own reason, and assuming an abfolute command, not only over his vulgar readers, but even his patron Memmius. For he is always bidding him attend, as if he had the rod over him, and using a magifterial authority, while he infructs him. From his time to ours, I know none fo like him, as our poet and philosopher of Malmsbury. This is that perpetual dictatorship, which is exercifed by Lucretius; who, though often in the wrong, yet feems to deal bona fide with his reader, and tells him nothing but what he thinks; in which plain fincerity, I believe he differs from our Hobbes; who could not but be convinced, or at leaft doubt of fome eternal truths which he has oppofed but for Lucretius, he feems to difdain all manner of replies, and is fo confident of his caufe, that he is beforehand with his antagonists; urging for them whatever he imagined they could fay; and leaving them, as he supposes, without an objection for the future. All this too with fo much fcorn and indignation, as if he were affured of the triumph, before he entered into the lifts. From this fublime and daring genius of his, it muft of neceffity come to pafs, that his thoughts must be masculine, full of argumentation, and that fufficiently warm: from the fame fiery temper proceeds the loftinefs of his expreffions, and the perpetual torrent of his verfe, where the barrenness of his fubjects does not too much constrain the quicknefs of his fancy; for there is no doubt to be made, but that he could have been every where as poetical as he is in his defcriptions, and in the moral part of his philofophy, if he had not aimed more to inftruct in his fyftem of nature than to delight. But he was bent upon making Memmius a materialist, and teaching him to defy an invifible power; in fhort, he was fo much an Atheist, that he forgot fometimes to be a poet. Thefe are the confiderations which I had of that author before I attempted to tranflate fome parts of him, and, accordingly, I laid by my natural diffidence and fcepticifm for a while, to take up that dogmatical way of his, which, as I faid, is fo much his character, as to make him that individual poet. As for his opinions concerning the mortality of the foul, they are so abfurd, that I cannot, if I would, believe them. I think a future ftate demonftrable even by natural arguments; at least, to take away rewards and punishments, is only a pleafing profpect to a man who refolves beforehand not to live morally; but, on the other fide, the thought of being nothing after death, is a burden infupportable to a virtuous man, even though a heathen. We naturally aim at happipels, and cannot bear to have it confined to the thortnefs of our prefent being, efpecially when we confider that virtue is generally unhappy in this world, and vice fortunate: fo that it is hope of futurity alone that makes this life tolerable in pectation of a better. Who would not commit all the exceffes to which he is prompted by his natural inclinations, if he may do them with fecurity while he is alive, and be uncapable of punishment after he is dead? If he be cunning and fecret enough to avoid the laws, there is no band of morality to restrain him; for fame and reputation are weak ties: Many men have not the least sense of them; powerful men are only awed by them, as they conduce to their intereft, and that not always when a paffion is predominant; and no man will be contained within the bounds of duty when he may safely tranfgrefs them. These are my thoughts abstractedly, and without entering into the notions of our common faith, which is the proper business of divines. But there are other arguments in this poem which I have turned into English, not belonging to the mortality of the foul, which are ftrong enough to a reasonable man, to make him lefs in love with life, and confequently in lefs apprehenfions of death. Such are the natural fatiety proceeding from a perpetual enjoyment of the fame things, the inconveniencies of old age, which make him incapable of corporeal pleasures, the decay of understanding and memory, which render him contemptible and ufelefs to others. Thefe, and many other reafons, fo pathetically urged, fo beautifully expressed, so adorned with examples, and fo admirably raised by the profopopeia of nature, who is brought in speaking to her children, with fo much authority and vigour, deferve the pains I have taken with them. It is true there is fomething, and that of fome moment, to be objected against my Englishing the nature of love, from the fourth book of Lucre tius; and I can lefs eafily answer why I tranflated it, than why I thus tranflated it. The objection arises from the obscenity of the subject, which is aggravated by the too lively and alluring delicacy of the verfes. In the first place, without the leaft formality of an excufe, I own it pleated me; and let my enemies make the worst they can of this confeffion. I am not yet fo fecure from that paffion but that I want my author's an tidote against it. He has given the trueft and moft philofophical account both of the disease and remedy which I ever found in any author, for which reafons I tranflated him. But it will be afked why I turned him into this lufcious Englith, for I will not give it a worfe word? Intead of an answer, I could afk again of my fupercili ous adverfaries, whether I am not bound, when I tranflate an author, to do him all the right I can, and to tranflate him to the best advantage? If to mince his meaning, which I am fatisfied was honeft and inftructive, I had either omitted fome part of what he faid, or taken from the ftrength of his expreffion, I certainly had wronged him; and that freeness of thought and words being thus cafhiered in my hands, he had no longer been Lucretius. If nothing of this kind be to be read, phyficians must not ftudy nature, anatomies must not be feen, and fomewhat I could fay of particular paffages in books, which, to avoid prefanencís, I do not name; but the intention qua lifies the act; and both mine and my author's were to inftruct as well as please. It is most certain, that bare faced bawdery is the poorest pretence to wit imaginable. But neither Lucretius nor I have used the groffeft words, but the cleanlieft metaphors we could find, to palliate the broadness of the meaning; and, to conclude, have carried the poetical part no farther than the philofophical exacted. Mr. Dryden's opinion of the fallowing Tranflation of Lucretius, by Mr. Creech, taken from bis Preface to the fecond Volume of Poetical Miscellanies. I now call to mind what I owe to the ingenious and learned tranflator of Lucretius. I have not here defigned to rob him of any part of that commendation which he has so justly acquired by the whole author, whofe fragments only fall to my portion. The ways of our tranflation are very different; he follows him more closely than I have done, which became an interpreter of the whole poem. I take more liberty, because it best fuited with my defign, which was to make him as pleafing as I could. He had been too voluminous had he used my method in fo long a work, and I had certainly taken his, had I made it my business to tranflate the whole. The preference then is juftly his; and I join with Mr. Evelyn in the confeffion of it, with this additional advantage to him, that his reputation is already established in this poet, mine is to make its fortune in the world. If I have been any where obfcure in following our common author, or if Lucretius himself is to be condemned, I refer myself to his excellent annotations, which I have often read, and always with fome new pleasure. T. LUCRETIUS CARUS. OF THE NATURE OF THINGS. BOOK I. THE ARGUMENT. I. THE poet invokes Venus. II Then, from ver. 64. to ver. 191, he dedicates to Memmius his books of the Nature of Things, praifes Epicurus, whofe philofophy he follows, endeavours to clear his doctrine from the charge of impiety; and briefly propofes the arguments of this and the following books. III. He enters upon his fubject, and, from ver. 192. to ver. 315, teaches, that nothing can be made of nothing, and that nothing can be redu ed into nothing. IV. From ver. 315. to ver 380, that there are fome little bodies, which though imperceptible to the eye, may be conceived by the mind, and of which all things are made. V. To thefe corpufcles from ver. 380 to ver. 479, he fubjoins a void or an empty space. And, VI. From ver. 479. to ver. 526, he proves that there is nothing but body and void: and that all the other things which feem to be, as weight, heat, poverty, war, &c. are only conjuncts or events, properties or accidents, of body and void. VII From ver. 526. to ver. 573, he teaches, that the first little bodies or principles of things, are perfect folids, and confequently, from ver. 573. to ver. 667, that they are indivifible leafts (for body cannot be divided into infinite), and eternal. VIII. In the next place, from ver. 667. to ver. 729, he confute the opinion of Heraclitus, who held that fire is the principle of all things; and of others who be lieved the like of air, water, or earth. IX. Then, from ver. 729. to ver. 840, he proves agamit Empedocles, that things are not composed of the four elements. X. From ver. 840. to ver. 916, he refutes Anaxagoras. XI. Laftly, From ver. 926. to ver. 1049. he teaches, that the univerfe is infinite on all fides, that the corpufcles are infinite in number, and that the void cannot be included in any bounds. Xil. And from ver. 1049. to the end of this book, he laughs at those who believe there is a centre in the univerfe, down to which all heavy things are continually striving, while the light work upwards of their own accord. "Thee, nature's pow'rful ruler, without whom When tir'd with heat and toil, does oft refort } 40 [flow? Then midst his ftrict embraces clafp thy arms ears; Left what I write, and fend you for your good, ties For whatfoe'er's divine muft live in peace, In undisturb'd and everlasting eafe: Not care for us; from fears and dangers free, 80 Sufficient to its own felicity: Nought here below, nought in our pow'r it needs; Ne'er fmiles at good, ne'er frowns at wicked deeds. Left you should start at these bold truths, and fly Thefe lines, as maxims of impiety: 120 Then, dumb with grief, her tears did pity crave; But ftil! fome frightful tales, fome furious By poets form'd, those grave and holy cheats. 130 May bias thee. Ev'n I could eafily find A thousand stories to diftract thy mind. Invent new fears, whofe horrid looks fhould fright, And damp thy thoughts when eager on delight: And reafon good But if it once appear, That after death there's neither hope nor fear; |