Part 3 (1/2)

THE MICROCOSM.

by

Gregory Griffin.

No. XI. of the

MICROCOSM.

MONDAY, _February_ 12, 1787.

Res gestae regumque, duc.u.mque, et tristia bella, _Quo scribi possint numero, monstravit Homerus_.--HOR.

By Homer taught, the modern poet sings, _In Epic strains, of heroes, wars, and Kings_.--FRANCIS.

There are certain forms and etiquettes in life, which, though the neglect of them does not amount to the commission of a crime, or the violation of a duty, are yet so established by example, and sanctioned by custom, as to pa.s.s into Statutes, equally acknowledged by society, and almost equally binding to individuals, with the laws of the land, or the precepts of morality. A man guilty of breaking these, though he cannot be transported for a felon, or indicted for treasonable practices, is yet, in the High Court of Custom, branded as a flagrant offender against decorum, as notorious for an unprecedented infringement on propriety.

There is no race of men on whom these laws are more severe than Authors; and no species of Authors more subject to them, than Periodical Essayists. _Homer_ having prescribed the form, or to use a more modern phrase, _set the fas.h.i.+on_ of _Epic Poems_, whoever presumes to deviate from his plan, must not hope to partic.i.p.ate his dignity: And whatever method, _The Spectator_, _The Guardian_, and others, who first adopted this species of writing, have pursued in their undertaking, is set down as a rule for the conduct of their followers; which, whoever is bold enough to transgress, is accused of a deviation from the original design, and a breach of established regulation.

It has. .h.i.therto been customary for all Periodical Writers, to take some opportunity, in the course of their labours, to display their Critical abilities, either by making observations on some popular Author, and work of known character, or by bringing forth the performances of hidden merit, and throwing light on genius in obscurity. To the critiques of _The Spectator_, _Shakespear_, and more particularly, _Milton_, are indebted, for no inconsiderable share of the reputation, which they now so universally enjoy; and by his means were the ruder graces, and more simple beauties of _Chevy Chace_ held up to public view, and recommended to general admiration.

I should probably be accused of swerving from the imitation of so great an example, were not I to take occasion to shew that I too am not entirely dest.i.tute of abilities of this kind; but that by possessing a decent share of critical discernment, and critical jargon, I am capable of becoming a very tolerable commentator. For the proof of which, I shall rather prefer calling the attention of my readers to an object as yet untreated of by any of my immediate predecessors, than venture to throw in my observations on any work which has before pa.s.sed the ordeal of frequent examination. And this I shall do for two reasons; partly, because were I to choose a field, how fertile soever, of which many others had before me been reaping the fruits, mine would be at best but the gleanings of criticism; and partly, from a more interested view, from a selfish desire of acc.u.mulated praise; since, by making a work, as yet almost wholly unknown, the subject of my consideration, I shall acquire the reputation of taste, as well as judgement;--of judiciousness in selection, as well as justness in observation;--of propriety in choosing the object, as well as skill in using the language, of commentary.

The _Epic Poem_ on which I shall ground my present critique, has for its chief characteristics, brevity and simplicity. The Author,--whose name I lament that I am, in some degree, prevented from consecrating to immortal fame, by not knowing what it is--the Author, I say, has not branched his poem into excressences of episode, or prolixities of digression; it is neither variegated with diversity of unmeaning similitudes, nor glaring with the varnish of unnatural metaphor. The whole is plain and uniform; so much so indeed, that I should hardly be surprised, if some morose readers were to conjecture, that the poet had been thus simple rather from necessity than choice; that he had been restrained not so much by chast.i.ty of judgement, as sterility of imagination.

Nay, some there may be perhaps, who will dispute his claim to the t.i.tle of an _Epic Poet_; and will endeavour to degrade him even to the rank of a _ballad-monger_. But I, as his Commentator, will contend for the dignity of my Author; and will plainly demonstrate his Poem to be an _Epic Poem_, agreeable to the example of all Poets, and the consent of all Critics heretofore.

First, it is universally agreed, that an _Epic Poem_ should have three component parts, _a beginning_, _a middle_, and _an end_;--secondly, it is allowed, that it should have one _grand action_, or _main design_, to the forwarding of which, all the parts of it should directly or indirectly tend; and that this design should be in some measure consonant with, and conducive to, the purposes of _Morality_;--and thirdly, it is indisputably settled, that it should have _a Hero_.

I trust that in none of these points the poem before us will be found deficient. There are other inferior properties, which I shall consider in due order.

Not to keep my readers longer in suspense, the subject of the poem is ”_The Reformation of the Knave of Hearts_.” It is not improbable, that some may object to me that a _Knave_ is an unworthy Hero for an Epic Poem; that a Hero ought to be all that is great and good. The objection is frivolous. The greatest work of this kind that the World has ever produced, has ”_The Devil_” for its hero; and supported as my author is by so great a precedent, I contend, that his Hero is a very decent Hero; and especially as he has the advantage of _Milton_'s, by reforming at the end, is evidently ent.i.tled to a competent share of celebrity.

I shall now proceed in the more immediate examination of the poem in its different parts. The _beginning_, say the Critics, ought to be plain and simple; neither embellished with the flowers of poetry, nor turgid with pomposity of diction. In this how exactly does our Author conform to the established opinion! he begins thus,

”The Queen of Hearts ”She made some Tarts”--

Can any thing be more clear! more natural! more agreeable to the true spirit of simplicity! Here are no tropes,--no figurative expressions,--not even so much as an invocation to the Muse. He does not detain his readers by any needless circ.u.mlocution; by unnecessarily informing them, what he _is_ going to sing; or still more unnecessarily enumerating what he _is not_ going to sing: but according to the precept of Horace,

----in medias res, Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit,----

That is, he at once introduces us, and sets us on the most easy and familiar footing imaginable, with her Majesty of Hearts, and interests us deeply in her domestic concerns. But to proceed,

”The Queen of Hearts ”She made some Tarts, ”All on a Summer's Day.”

Here indeed the prospect brightens, and we are led to expect some liveliness of imagery, some warmth of poetical colouring;--but here is no such thing.--There is no task more difficult to a Poet, than that of _Rejection_. _Ovid_, among the ancients, and _Dryden_, among the moderns, were perhaps the most remarkable for the want of it. The latter from the haste in which he generally produced his compositions, seldom paid much attention to the ”_limae labor_,” ”the labour of correction,”

and seldom therefore rejected the a.s.sistance of any idea that presented itself. _Ovid_, not content with catching the leading features of any scene or character, indulged himself in a thousand minutiae of description, a thousand puerile prettinesses, which were in themselves uninteresting, and took off greatly from the effect of the whole; as the numberless suckers, and straggling branches of a fruit tree, if permitted to shoot out unrestrained, while they are themselves barren and useless, diminish considerably the vigour of the parent stock.