Read FICTION books online

Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



Fiction genre suitable for people of all ages. Everyone will find something interesting for themselves. Our electronic library is always at your service. Reading online free books without registration. Nowadays ebooks are convenient and efficient. After all, don’t forget: literature exists and develops largely thanks to readers.
The genre of fiction is interesting to read not only by the process of cognition and the desire to empathize with the fate of the hero, this genre is interesting for the ability to rethink one's own life. Of course the reader may accept the author's point of view or disagree with them, but the reader should understand that the author has done a great job and deserves respect. Take a closer look at genre fiction in all its manifestations in our elibrary.



Read books online » Fiction » Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (best beach reads TXT) 📖

Book online «Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (best beach reads TXT) 📖». Author Samuel Johnson



1 ... 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 ... 77
Go to page:
Not The Moderns

By The Ancients; He Takes Those Passages Of Their Own Authors To Be

Really Sublime Which Come The Nearest To It; He Often Calls That A Noble

And A Great Thought Which Is Only A Pretty And A Fine One; And Has More

Instances Of The Sublime Out Of Ovid De Tristibus, Than He Has Out Of All

Virgil.

 

 

 

"I Shall Allow, Therefore, Only Those To Be Judges Of Philips, Who Make

The Ancients, And Particularly Virgil, Their Standard.

 

 

 

"But, Before I Enter On This Subject, I Shall Consider What Is Particular

In The Style Of Philips, And Examine What Ought To Be The Style Of

Heroick Poetry; And Next Inquire How Far He Is Come Up To That Style.

 

 

 

"His Style Is Particular, Because He Lays Aside Rhyme, And Writes In

Blank Verse, And Uses Old Words, And Frequently Postpones The Adjective

To The Substantive, And The Substantive To The Verb; And Leaves Out

Little Particles, _A_, And _The_; _Her_, And _His_; And Uses Frequent

Appositions. Now Let Us Examine, Whether These Alterations Of Style Be

Conformable To The True Sublime."

 

 

 

[Footnote 90: Isaac Vossius Relates, That He Also Delighted in having

His Hair Combed when He Could Have It Done By Barbers Or Other Persons

Skilled in the Rules Of Prosody. Of The Passage That Contains This

Ridiculous Fancy, The Following is A Translation: "Many People Take

Delight In the Rubbing of Their Limbs, And The Combing of Their Hair; But

These Exercises Would Delight Much More, If The Servants At The Baths,

And Of The Barbers, Were So Skilful In this Art, That They Could Express

Any Measures With Their Fingers. I Remember That More Than Once I Have

Fallen Into The Hands Of Men Of This Sort, Who Could Imitate Any

Measure Of Songs In combing the Hair, So As Sometimes To Express Very

Intelligibly Iambics, Trochees, Dactyls, &C. From Whence There Arose

To Me No Small Delight." See His Treatise De Poematum Cantu Et Viribus

Rythmi. Oxon. 1673. P. 62. Ii.]

 

 

 

[Footnote 91: This Ode I Am Willing to Mention, Because There Seems To Be

An Errour In all The Printed copies, Which Is, I Find, Retained in the

Last. They All Read;

 

 

 

  Quam Gratiarum Cura Decentium

  O! O! Labellis Cui Venus Insidet.

 

 

 

The Author Probably Wrote,

 

 

 

  Quam Gratiarum Cura Decentium

  Ornat; Labellis Cui Venus Insidet. Dr. J.

 

 

 

Hannes Was Professor Of Chemistry At Oxford, And Wrote One Or Two Poems

In The Musae Anglicanae. J.B.]

 

 

 

 

Walsh.

William Walsh, The Son Of Joseph Walsh, Esq. Of Abberley, In

Worcestershire, Was Born In 1663, As Appears From The Account Of Wood,

Who Relates, That At The Age Of Fifteen He Became, In 1678, A Gentleman

Commoner Of Wadham College.

 

 

 

He Left The University Without A Degree, And Pursued his Studies In

London And At Home; That He Studied, In whatever Place, Is Apparent From

The Effect, For He Became, In mr. Dryden'S Opinion, "The Best Critick In

The Nation."

 

 

 

He Was Not, However, Merely A Critick Or A Scholar, But A Man Of Fashion,

And, As Dennis Remarks, Ostentatiously Splendid In his Dress. He Was,

Likewise, A Member Of Parliament And A Courtier, Knight Of The Shire For

His Native County In several Parliaments; In another The Representative

Of Richmond In yorkshire; And Gentleman Of The Horse To Queen Anne, Under

The Duke Of Somerset.

 

 

 

Some Of His Verses Show Him To Have Been A Zealous Friend To The

Revolution; But His Political Ardour Did Not Abate His Reverence

Or Kindness For Dryden, To Whom He Gave A Dissertation On Virgil'S

Pastorals, In which, However Studied, He Discovers Some Ignorance Of The

Laws Of French Versification.

 

 

 

In 1705, He Began To Correspond With Mr. Pope, In whom He Discovered very

Early The Power Of Poetry. Their Letters Are Written Upon The Pastoral

Comedy Of The Italians, And Those Pastorals Which Pope Was Then Preparing

To Publish.

 

 

 

The Kindnesses Which Are First Experienced are Seldom Forgotten. Pope

Always Retained a Grateful Memory Of Walsh'S Notice, And Mentioned him,

In One Of His Latter Pieces, Among Those That Had Encouraged his Juvenile

Studies:

 

 

 

  Granville The Polite,

  And Knowing walsh, Would Tell Me I Could Write.

 

 

 

In His Essay On Criticism He Had Given Him More Splendid Praise; And,

In The Opinion Of His Learned commentator, Sacrificed a Little Of His

Judgment To His Gratitude.

 

 

 

The Time Of His Death I Have Not Learned. It Must Have Happened between

1707, When He Wrote To Pope, And 1711, When Pope Praised him In his

Essay. The Epitaph Makes Him Forty-Six Years Old: If Wood'S Account Be

Right, He Died in 1709.

 

 

 

He Is Known More By His Familiarity With Greater Men, Than By Any Thing

Done Or Written By Himself.

 

 

 

His Works Are Not Numerous. In prose He Wrote Eugenia, A Defence Of

Women; Which Dryden Honoured with A Preface.

 

 

 

Esculapius, Or The Hospital Of Fools, Published after His Death.

 

 

 

A Collection Of Letters And Poems, Amorous And Gallant, Was Published in

The Volumes Called dryden'S Miscellany, And Some Other Occasional Pieces.

 

 

 

To His Poems And Letters Is Prefixed a Very Judicious Preface Upon

Epistolary Composition And Amorous Poetry.

 

 

 

In His Golden Age Restored, There Was Something of Humour, While The

Facts Were Recent; But It Now Strikes No Longer. In his Imitation Of

Horace, The First Stanzas Are Happily Turned; And, In all His Writings,

There Are Pleasing passages. He Has, However, More Elegance Than Vigour,

And Seldom Rises Higher Than To Be Pretty.

 

 

 

 

 

Dryden[92].

Of The Great Poet Whose Life I Am About To Delineate, The Curiosity Which

His Reputation Must Excite, Will Require A Display More Ample Than Can

Now Be Given. His Contemporaries, However They Reverenced his Genius,

Left His Life Unwritten; And Nothing, Therefore, Can Be Known Beyond What

Casual Mention And Uncertain Tradition Have Supplied.

 

 

 

John Dryden Was Born August 9, 1631[93], At Aldwinkle, Near Oundle,

The Son Of Erasmus Dryden, Of Titchmersh; Who Was The Third Son Of

Sir Erasmus Dryden, Baronet, Of Canons Ashby. All These Places Are In

Northamptonshire; But The Original Stock Of The Family Was In the County

Of Huntingdon[94].

 

 

 

He Is Reported by His Last Biographer, Derrick, To Have Inherited, From

His Father, An Estate Of Two Hundred a Year, And To Have Been Bred, As

Was Said, An Anabaptist. For Either Of These Particulars No Authority Is

Given[95]. Such A Fortune Ought To Have Secured him From That Poverty

Which Seems Always To Have Oppressed him; Or, If He Had Wasted it, To

Have Made Him Ashamed of Publishing his Necessities. But, Though He

Had Many Enemies, Who, Undoubtedly, Examined his Life With A Scrutiny

Sufficiently Malicious, I Do Not Remember That He Is Ever Charged with

Waste Of His Patrimony. He Was, Indeed, Sometimes Reproached for His

First Religion. I Am, Therefore, Inclined to Believe That Derrick'S

Intelligence Was Partly True And Partly Erroneous[96].

 

 

 

From Westminster School, Where He Was Instructed, As One Of The King'S

Scholars, By Dr. Busby, Whom He Long After Continued to Reverence,

He Was, In 1650, Elected to One Of The Westminster Scholarships At

Cambridge[97].

 

 

 

Of His School Performances Has Appeared only A Poem On The Death Of

Lord Hastings, Composed with Great Ambition Of Such Conceits As,

Notwithstanding the Reformation Begun By Waller And Denham, The Example

Of Cowley Still Kept In reputation. Lord Hastings Died of The Smallpox;

And His Poet Has Made Of The Pustules First Rosebuds, And Then Gems; At

Last Exalts Them Into Stars; And Says,

 

 

 

  No Comet Need foretell His Change Drew On,

  Whose Corpse Might Seem A Constellation.

 

 

 

At The University He Does Not Appear To Have Been Eager Of Poetical

Distinction, Or To Have Lavished his Early Wit Either On Fictitious

Subjects, Or Publick Occasions. He Probably Considered, That He, Who

Proposed to Be An Author, Ought First To Be A Student. He Obtained,

Whatever Was The Reason, No Fellowship In the College. Why He Was

Excluded cannot Now Be Known, And It Is Vain To Guess; Had He Thought

Himself Injured, He Knew How To Complain. In the Life Of Plutarch He

Mentions His Education In the College With Gratitude; But, In a Prologue

At Oxford, He Has These Lines:

 

 

 

  Oxford To Him A Dearer Name Shall Be

  Than His Own Mother-University:

  Thebes Did His Rude, Unknowing youth Engage;

  He Chooses Athens In his Riper Age.

 

 

 

It Was Not Till The Death Of Cromwell, In 1658, That He Became A Publick

Candidate For Fame, By Publishing heroick Stanzas On The Late Lord

Protector[98]; Which, Compared with The Verses Of Sprat And Waller, On

The Same Occasion, Were Sufficient To Raise Great Expectations Of The

Rising poet.

 

 

 

When The King was Restored, Dryden, Like The Other Panegyrists Of

Usurpation, Changed his Opinion, Or His Profession, And Published astrea

Redux; A Poem On The Happy Restoration And Return Of His Most Sacred

Majesty King charles The Second.

 

 

 

The Reproach Of Inconstancy Was, On This Occasion, Shared with Such

Numbers, That It Produced neither Hatred nor Disgrace! If He Changed, He

Changed with The Nation. It Was, However, Not Totally Forgotten When His

Reputation Raised him Enemies.

 

 

 

The Same Year He Praised the New King in a Second Poem On His

Restoration. In the Astrea Was The Line,

 

 

 

  An Horrid _Stillness_ First _Invades_ The _Ear_,

  And In that Silence We A Tempest Fear--

 

 

 

For Which He Was Persecuted with Perpetual Ridicule, Perhaps With

More Than Was Deserved. _Silence_ Is, Indeed, Mere Privation; And, So

Considered, Cannot _Invade_; But Privation, Likewise, Certainly Is

_Darkness_, And Probably _Cold_; Yet Poetry Has Never Been Refused the

Right Of Ascribing effects Or Agency To Them As To Positive Powers. No

Man Scruples To Say That _Darkness_ Hinders Him From His Work; Or That

_Cold_ Has Killed the Plants. Death Is Also Privation; Yet Who Has Made

Any Difficulty Of Assigning to Death A Dart, And The Power Of Striking?

 

 

 

In Settling the Order Of His Works There Is Some Difficulty; For, Even

When They Are Important Enough To Be Formally Offered to A Patron, He

Does Not Commonly Date His Dedication; The Time Of Writing and Publishing

Is Not Always The Same; Nor Can The First Editions Be Easily Found, If

Even From Them Could Be Obtained the Necessary Information[99].

 

 

 

The Time At Which His First Play Was Exhibited is Not Certainly Known,

Because It Was Not Printed till It Was, Some Years Afterwards, Altered

And Revived; But Since The Plays Are Said To Be Printed in the Order In

Which They Were Written, From The Dates Of Some, Those Of Others May

Be Inferred; And Thus It May Be Collected, That In 1663, In the

Thirty-Second Year Of His Life, He Commenced a Writer For The Stage;

Compelled, Undoubtedly, By Necessity, For He Appears Never To Have Loved

That Exercise Of His Genius, Or To Have Much Pleased himself With His Own

Dramas.

 

 

 

Of The Stage, When He Had Once Invaded it, He Kept Possession For Many

Years; Not, Indeed, Without The Competition Of Rivals Who Sometimes

Prevailed, Or The Censure Of Criticks, Which Was Often Poignant, And

Often Just; But With Such A Degree Of Reputation As Made Him, At Least,

Secure Of Being heard, Whatever Might Be The Final Determination Of The

Publick.

 

 

 

His First Piece Was A Comedy Called the Wild Gallant[100]. He Began With

No Happy Auguries; For His Performance Was So Much Disapproved, That He

Was Compelled to Recall It, And Change It From Its Imperfect State To The

Form In which

1 ... 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 ... 77
Go to page:

Free ebook «Lives Of The Poets, Vol. 1 (fiscle part-III) by Samuel Johnson (best beach reads TXT) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment