Part 4 (1/2)
But indeed the Translator has here mended Boileau's Thought, or at least made it more plausible and defensible, tho he has miss'd his Sence; for these are his Lines:
De la foi d'une Christien les Mysteres terribles D' Ornemens egayes ne sont point susceptibles.
The plain English of which, I think is, ”That the terrible Mysteries of the Christian Faith, are not at all susceptible of these gayer Ornaments.”
I'll not be too Critical here, tho' methinks its but an odd sort of Gayety that's to be found in Tales of h.e.l.l; agreeable, I own, the most dreadful thing nay be, if well manag'd in Poetry, but he can hardly ever make 'em gay without a yery strong Catachresis. But tho' we let that pa.s.s, so must not what follows, wherein he further explains his Notion. L'Evangile, &c.
The Gospel offers nothing to our Thoughts But Penitence and Punishment for Faults.
To which it may be first said, that supposing this true, and the Gospel did present nothing else, yet why mayn't Angels be us'd in it, to warn Sinners to that Repentance which we know they so much rejoyce in; or Devils, to punish and torment the Guilty and Impious; as in the Case of Sceva's Son, and others. But yet further, as to the a.s.sertion it self, I know not what their Gospel offers, nor I believe are they better acquainted with what ours does; but we are sure 'tis far enough from being such a dismal melancholy thing as they represent it, since Immortality and Life are brought to light therein. We know that it gives us the n.o.blest Examples, the most divine Law, the strongest, yet justest Pa.s.sions, the most glorious Combats, and Friends.h.i.+ps, and Sufferings, such as neither History or Fable cou'd ever yet equal. It shews us a G.o.d really Descending, disrob'd indeed of all his more dazling and insupportable Glories, as our Divine Herbert; but yet clothed with what has more of true Divinity, with Humility, and Charity, and Patience, and Meekness, and Innocence. Here's War, here's Love indeed; such as never was besides, or will be more. He lov'd our Dust and Clay, and even for us, single encounter'd all the Powers of Darkness, and yet more, his Almighty Father's anger. But I'll go no farther, lest the Reader should think I forget where I am. I must return to Boileau, whose strongest Objection is yet behind; Et de vos Fictions, &c.
And mingling Falshood with those Mysteries Wou'd make our sacred Truths appear like Lies.
But I hope the Critic knew, that there is a fair difference between a mere Fiction, or Falshood, and an Instructive Parable or Fable, on one side, or a few more lively Poetical Colours on the other. To mingle Falshoods, or dull Legendary Fictions, without either Life or Soul in 'em, with our Saviour's Blessed Gospel, may make 'em, in some Sence, superiour to it: This wou'd indeed incline an Italian to be of the same Faith with his Countryman, that 'twas all Fabula Christi, in the worst Sence of the Word: But certainly expressing the Truth in Parables, and mingling these with the Mysteries of the Gospel, can't be thought to give it an Air of Fiction: nor dare any affirm it does so, without Blasphemy, since our Saviour has so often done it. Nor only these but deeper Allegories are thought to be made use of in the Christian Religion; for Example, the Throne and Temple of G.o.d in the Revelations, and the Description of the New Jerusalem, with all its Gates and Foundations of Sapphires and Emeralds, and that lovely Scheme of Trees and Rivers, worthy a Paradise: All this, I say, will scarcely be granted literal, and consequently must be all an Allegory; alluding partly to the Old Jewish Church and Temple, partly to Ezekiel's Visionary Representation and Prophetical Paradise. Nor can it, I think, be justly reckoned more criminal, where we have any great instructive Example, which has been real matter of Fact, to expatiate thereon; adding suitable and proper Circ.u.mstances and Colours to the whole, especially when the History it self is but succinctly Related, and the Heads of things only left us. And this some great Man have thought was the Method of the Holy Pen-man himself, whoever he were, in that lovely antient Poem of Job; which, that 't was at the bottom a real History, few but Atheists deny; and yet 'tis thought some Circ.u.mstances might be amplified in the account we have left us, particularly the long Speeches between that Great Man and his Friends; tho' the main hinges of the Relation, his Person, Character, and Losses, the malice of the Devil, the behaviour of his Wife and Friends, nay even the Substance of their Discourses, as well as of that between G.o.d and him, and the wonderful Turn of his Affairs soon after: All this might, and did, truly happen. Or, if any amplification should be here deny'd, does not the Divine however every day, Paraphrase and Expatiate upon the Words of his Text, inverting their Method as he sees occasion, and yet is still thought unblameable. All the difference is, that he delivers what's probable, as only probable; whereas the Nature of Poetry requires, that such probable Amplifications as these, be wrought into the main Action, in such a manner, as if they had really happen'd; and without this, a Man might Ryme long enough, but ne'er cou'd make a Poem, any more than this would have been one, had I begun with, Abraham begat Isaac, and so tagg'd on to the end of all the fourteen Generations, much as Nonnus has done with St. John, and yet often miss'd his Sence too, as Heinsius judges.
But enough of Fable, and of those who would either reduce all Heroic Poetry unto it, or absolutely banish it thence.
Next the Fable of Epics, the Poem is to be considered; which, after Bossu, is the other part of its general Nature, and shews the manner of handling it, comprehending Thoughts, Expressions and Verses; of which there need not much be said, since they are obvious to every Reader. The Thoughts must be clear and just, and n.o.ble, and the Diction or Expression suited to them. The chief Difficulty, as Rapin observes, is to keep up the Sublime, which Virgil has done admirably, even in the meanest Subjects; and which Aristotle thinks may be best done by the judicious use of Metaphors. There ought to meet, according to him, Proportion in the Design, Justness in the Thoughts, and Exactness in the Expression, to const.i.tute an accomplish'd Heroic Poem; and the great Art of Thought and Expression lies in this, that they be natural and proper without Meanness, and sublime without a vitious Swelling and Affectation.
The Matter is next in an Heroic Poem, which must be one important Action; it must be important, Res gestae Regumque Duc.u.mque, with Horace. ”It only speaks of Kings and Princes,” says Rapin, by which he must mean that it chiefly and princ.i.p.ally turns upon them: for both Virgil and Homer have occasion for Traitors, and Cryers, and Beggars, nay even Swineherds (in the Odysses), and yet still more, of whole Armies, which can't be all compos'd of Kings and Princes. However, the more there is of these lower Walks in the Plan of a Design, the less Heroic it must appear, even in the Hands of the greatest Genius in Nature. Such a Genius, I think, was Homer's, and yet the Truth of this a.s.sertion will be plain to any who compares his Odysses with his Iliads; where he'll find, if 'tis not for want of Judgment, in the latter a very different Air from the former, in many places much more dead and languis.h.i.+ng, and this which I have given, seems one probable Reason on't; not excluding that of Longinus, that Homer was then grown old, and besides too much of the Work was spent in Narration; to which may be added, that he here design'd a wise and prudent rather than a brave and fighting Hero, having wrought off most of the Edg and Fury of his Youthful Spirit and Fury in Achilles, as in Ulysses he express'd more of Age and Judgment.
This Action must be one and uniform: the Painture of one Heroic Action, says Rapin from Aristotle. It must be, as Bossu from Horace, simplex duntaxat & unum, that is, the princ.i.p.al Action on which the whole Work moves ought to be one, otherwise the whole will be confus'd; tho' there may be many Episodic Actions without making what Aristotle calls an Episodic Poem, which is, where the Actions are not necessarily or not probably link'd to each other, and of such an irregular multiplication of Actions and Incidents. Bossu instances very pleasantly in Statius's Achilleid; but he tells us there's also a regular and just Multiplication, without which 'twere impossible to find matter for so large a Poem, when as before it's so ordered that the Unity of the whole is not broken, and consequently divers Incidents it has bound together are not to be accounted different Actions and Fables, but only different Parts not finish'd, or entire of one Action or Fable entire or finished: and, agreeable to this Doctrine, Rapin blames Lucan's Episodes as too far-fetch'd, over-scholastic, and consisting purely of speculative Disputes on natural Causes whenever they came in his way, not being link'd with the main Action, nor flowing naturally from it, nor tending to its Perfection.
And in this Action, the Poet ought, as Rapin tells us, to invert the natural Order of things, not to begin with his Hero in the Cradle, and write his Annals instead of an Epic Poem, as Statius in his Achilleid, the Reason of which seems plain, because this would look more like History than Poetry. It's more agreeable, more natural, in some Sence, to be here unnatural; to bring in, by way of Recitation or Narration, what was first in order of time, at some distance from that time when it really happened, which makes the whole look unlike a dull formal Story, and gives more scope for handsome Turns and the Art of the writer. Another Reason why a whole Life is not ordinarily a proper Subject for Epics, is, because many trivial Accidents must be therein recited; but if a Life can be found in which is nothing but what's diverting and wonderful, tending besides to the perfecting the main Action, and the Order of time revers'd in the whole, the Case would be so much altered, that I think their Rules would not hold.
For the Form of Epic, which comes next in view, 'tis agreed on all Hands to be Recitation or Narration. Bossu says, The Persons are not at all to be introduced before the Eyes of the Spectators, acting by themselves without the Poet; not that he'd hereby exclude the Poet from introducing the persons telling their own Story, or some one of them that of the princ.i.p.al Hero: for great part of Epic is thus far Dramatic. And thus Virgil manages his second and third Books by way of Recitation, and that by his Hero himself, making him give Dido a long account of the Wars of Troy, and his own Actions, tho' thereby he falls into the Impropriety of commending himself, with a--sum pius aeneas. Vida takes the same way of Recitation, wherein he employs two or three of his six Books; and Milton follows them both, tho' less naturally than either; for he introduces our Saviour, in his Paradise regain'd, repeating a great part of his own Life in Soliloquy, which way of Discourse includes, in a Wise Man especially, so much of Calmness and deep Reflection, that it seems improper for the great and n.o.ble Turn required in such a Work, unless in describing a Pa.s.sion, where it may be more lively. All that they mean by not introducing the Parties, is not doing it as in a Tragedy: they are not to be brought in abruptly to tell their own Tale from the beginning, without the appearing Help of the Poet, as Actors in a true and proper Drama. And this Narration, says Rapin, should be simple and natural; but the greatest difficulty is, not to let its Simplicity appear, lest it thence grow disagreeable, and the chiefest Art in this, consists in its Transitions, and all the delicate surprising Turns, which lead the Reader from one thing to another without his thinking whither he's going, or perceiving any Breach or so much as a pa.s.sage between 'em; after all, the more Action there is in Epic, still the more Life there will be. A Poet may, I find, easily fall into Poorness of Thought by aiming too much at the Probability and neglecting the Admirable; whereby he loses that agreeableness which is a mixture of both. He ought then to take more care than some have done, not to keep himself too long behind the Scenes, and trust the Narration with another, which, without a great deal of Art and Pains, will take off much of the Life of the Work, as Longinus has already formerly observed.
And here come in the Qualities of Narration, mentioned in our Definition, that it ought to be done in a manner probable, agreeable, and admirable; 'tis rendered probable by its Simplicity and Singularity, and admirable by the Grandeur of the Subject, the Figures and Machines, or [Greek: theoi apo mechanes], much more lawful here than in the Drama's; and lastly agreeable, as has been said, by a mixture of both.
The last thing in our Definition, is, the End of Epic, indeed the first and princ.i.p.al which ought to be intended, and that's Instruction, not only, as Rapin thinks, of great Men, but of all, as in Virgil's Scheme, which we have already described; and, this either by the princ.i.p.al Moral aim'd at in the whole, or the Manners of particular Persons. Of Fable and Moral, I've already discours'd, and whether be the more lively and probable way to instruct, by that or History. But here it may be worth the while to enquire, whether the princ.i.p.al Hero in Epic ought to be virtuous?
Bossu thinks not, the manners being formed as well by seeing Errors as Beauties in the chief Actors; but yet methinks it seems too much to form a Hero that's a perfect Almanzor, with not one spark of Vertue, and only remarkable for his extraordinary Strength and little Brains; such was certainly Homer's Achilles, of whom I think the Father was in the right when he observes, the Poet makes him not do one brave or virtuous Action, all the while he lies before the Town: whereas Virgil's Hero, is, to tell truth, an indifferent good Heathen, and, bating one or two slips, comes up pretty well to his own good word. The same however may be said for Homer, which our present Dramatists plead for their Excuse; that he copied his Hero from those who were esteemed such in the barbarous Age in which he liv'd,
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabllis, acer, Jura neget sibi nata, &c.
Made up of Lewdness, Love, and Fighting: who, had he liv'd in our Days, would have made an excellent Town Bully, I wish there were not too much reason to say a modish Gentleman. But tho' old Homer took this way, Virgil, who writes with much more Judgment and Exactness, and follows him in many things, here thought fit to leave him; making his Hero, as I've said, not only brave and prudent, but for the most part virtuous. Which would much better form the manners of his Reader, than if they were set to spell out Instruction from contraries, as Homer has done. Whence it follows, the more virtuous a Hero is, the better; since he more effectually answers the true end of Epics. After all, Rapin says, the chief Excellency of an Heroic Poem consists in the just proportion of the Parts; that perfect Union, just Agreement, and admirable Relation, which the Parts of this great Work bear one towards another; and blames Ta.s.so for mingling all the Sweetness and Delicacy of Eclogues and Lyricks, with the Force of an Heroic Poem. But I should think him mistaken here, and that this is not the meaning of Aristotles [Greek: a.n.a.logon]. For if we allow not such a pleasing Variety, how shall we excuse even Virgil himself, who has his Dido, as well a Ta.s.so his Armida and Erminia? nay, how shall we manage Love? which is usually one great Episode of Heroic, if not with something of Delicacy. I grant Love ought to have a different Air in different sorts of Poems; but still if it be natural it must have something of Softness; and for his Enchanted Forrest, which this severe Critic also blames, I believe there's few who read that part of his Work, who would willingly have it omitted, for the sake of a fancied Regularity, any more than they would part with Mr. Dryden's Improvement on't in his King Arthur. However, if it be a fault, 'tis strange so many who have been Masters of the greatest Genius should unanimously fall into it; as Ovid in his Palace of Circe, Ariosto in that of Alcina, and Spencer in his Acasia's Bower of Bliss, and several others, who have taken the same Method. I should therefore rather think that this beautiful and marvellous a.n.a.logy which Aristotle requires as the best thing in Epic, relates rather to the Harmony and Agreement of the Parts with the Whole; so that there appears no Fracture or Contradiction, the different Parts, tho' much unlike, yet all together making one beautiful Figure and uniform Variety.
And thus much of the Definition of Epic, containing the main Rules thereof, by which the Reader may be able to form a Judgment of this, or any other Heroic Poem: Especially if to these Rules be added some Examples to render them more plain. In order to which, I desire to express my Thoughts freely of other Poems, as I must expect every one will do of mine, always observing that piece of Justice, never to find fault, without taking notice of some Beauty to ballance it, and giving, where I can find it, the better Judgment of other Persons as well as my own. Concluding all with a brief Account of my own Work.
To begin then with Grandsire Homer, this may be added to the particular Remarks that have been already made. I think none will deny but the Disposition of his Iliads, is so truly admirable, so regular, and exact, that one would be apt to think he wrote his Poem by Aristotle's Rules, and not Aristotle his Rules by his Poem. I confess, I once thought that he had been oblig'd to his Commentators for most of the Beauties they celebrated in him; but I am now, on a nearer view, so well satisfied to the contrary, that I can ne'er think his Poem writ by piece-meal, without any Connexion or Dependance: wherein Dionysius the Halicarna.s.sian very justly praises the Order and Management of the Design, as well as the Grandeur and Magnificence of the Expression, and the sweet and pa.s.sionate Movements.