The Preface to Joseph Trapp's translation of _The ÆNEIS of Virgil_, Volume I (1718) is reproduced from a copy of the first edition in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *FPR3736/T715V3/1718). A typical type-page (p. vii) measures 231 x 156 mm. THE ÆNEIS OF VIRGIL, TRANSLATED INTO BLANK VERSE: By _JOSEPH TRAPP_, M.A. Professor of Poetry in the University of _Oxford_. _----Parnassia Laurus Parva sub ingenti Matris se subjicit umbra_. Virg. VOLUME _the_ FIRST. _LONDON_: Printed in the Year MDCCXVIII. THE PREFACE. However Poetry may have been dishonoured by the _Follies_ of some, and the _Vices_ of others; the Abuse, or Corruption of the best Things being always the worst: It will, notwithstanding, be ever regarded, as it ever has been, by the wisest, and most judicious of Men, as the very _Flower_ of human _Thinking_, the most _exquisite Spirit_ that can be extracted from the _Wit_ and _Learning_ of Mankind. But I shall not now enter into a formal Vindication of this Divine Art from the many groundless Aspersions which have been cast upon it by Ignorance, and Ill-nature; nor display either it's Dignity in it self, or it's Usefulness both in Philosophy, and Religion; or the delightful Elegancy of it's refined Ideas, and harmonious Expressions. This I have in some measure attempted in another[1] Treatise; to which I rather chuse to refer the Reader, than to repeat what I have already said, tho' in a different Language from This, in which I am now writing. I shall therefore only observe at present, that to hate, or despise Poetry, not only argues a Man deficient in Wisdom, and Learning; but even brings his Virtue and Goodness under Suspicion: What our _Shakespear_ says of another melodious Science, being altogether as applicable to This; and Poetry it self being the Musick of Thoughts, and Words, as Musick is the Poetry of Sounds. _The Man that hath not Musick in his Soul, And is not mov'd with Concord of sweet Sounds; Is fit for Treasons, Stratagems, and Spoils; The Motions of his Spirit are dull as Night, And his Affections dark as Erebus: Let no such Man be trusted.----_[2] And as Poetry was by the Heathen stiled the _Language of the Gods_; much the same may be said by a Christian of the one true Deity: Since a great part of the Holy Scriptures themselves is to the last degree Poetical, both in Sentiments, and Diction.