Children in the Wood,' which is one of the darling songs of the
common people, and has been the delight of most Englishmen in some part
of their age." Addison justifies his liking for these humble poems by
classical precedents. "The greatest modern critics have laid it down as
a rule that an heroic poem should be founded upon some important precept
of morality adapted to the constitution of the country in which the poet
writes. Homer and Virgil have formed their plans in this view."
Accordingly he thinks that the author of "Chevy Chase" meant to point a
moral as to the mischiefs of private war. As if it were not precisely
the _gaudium certaminis_ that inspired the old border ballad-maker! As
if he did not glory in the fight! The passage where Earl Percy took the
dead Douglas by the hand and lamented his fallen foe reminds Addison of
Aeneas' behavior toward Lausus. The robin red-breast covering the
children with leaves recalls to his mind a similar touch in one of
Horace's odes. But it was much that Addison, whose own verse was so
artificial, should have had a taste for the wild graces of folk-song. He
was severely ridiculed by his contemporaries for these concessions. "He
descended now and then to lower disquisitions," wrote Dr. Johnson," and
by a serious display of the beauties of 'Chevy Chase,' exposed himself to
the ridicule of Wagstaff, who bestowed a like pompous character on 'Tom
Thumb'; and to the contempt of Dennis, who, considering the fundamental
position of his criticism, that 'Chevy Chase' pleases and ought to please
because it is natural, observes that 'there is a way of deviating from
nature . . . by imbecility, which degrades nature by faintness and
diminution'. . . In 'Chevy Chase' . . . there is a chill and lifeless
imbecility. The story cannot possibly be told in a manner that shall
make less impression on the mind."[35]

Nicholas Rowe, the dramatist and Shakspere editor, had said a good word
for ballads in the prologue to "Jane Shore" (1713):

"Let no nice taste despise the hapless dame
Because recording ballads chant her name.
Those venerable ancient song enditers
Soared many a pitch above our modern writers. . .
Our numbers may be more refined than those,
But what we've gained in verse, we've lost in prose.
Their words no shuffling double meaning knew:
Their speech was homely, but their hearts were true. . .
With rough, majestic force they moved the