CHAPTER XXI. Narration and Description. HORACE, and many critics after him, exhort writers to choose a subject adapted to their genius. Such observations would multiply rules of criticism without end; and at any rate belong not to the present work, the object of which is human nature in general, and what is common to the species. But though the choice of a subject comes not under such a plan, the manner of execution comes under it; because the manner of execution is subjected to general rules, derived from principles common to the species. These rules, as they concern the things expressed as well as the language or expression, require a division of this chapter into two parts; first of thoughts, and next of words. I pretend not to justify this division as entirely accurate for in discoursing of thoughts, it is difficult to abstract altogether from the words; and still more difficult, in discoursing of words, to abstract altogether from the thought. The first rule is, That in history, the reflections ought to be chaste and solid; for while the mind is intent upon truth, it is little disposed to the operations of the imagination. Strada's Belgic history is full of poetical images, which discording with the subject, are unpleasant; and they have a still worse effect, by giving an air of fiction to a genuine history. Such flowers ought to be scattered with a sparing hand, even in epic poetry; and : at no rate are they proper, till the reader be warmed, and by an enlivened imagination be prepared to relish them in that state of mind they are agreeable; but while we are sedate and attentive to an historical chain of facts, we reject with disdain, every fiction. This Belgic history is indeed wofully vicious both in matter and in form it is stuffed with frigid and unmeaning reflections; and its poetical flashes, even laying aside their impropriety, are mere tinsel. Second, Vida,* following Horace, recommends a modest commencement of an epic poem; giving for a reason, That the writer ought to husband his fire. This reason has weight; but what is said above suggests a reason still more weighty: bold thoughts and figures are never relished till the mind be heated and thoroughly engaged, which is not the reader's case at the commencement. Homer introduces not a single simile in the first book of the Iliad, nor in the first book of the Odyssey. On the other hand, Shakspeare begins one of his plays with a sentiment too bold for the most heated imagination: Bedford. Hung be the heav'ns with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, First Part, Henry VI. The passage with which Strada begins his history, is too poetical for a subject of that kind; and at any rate too high for the beginning of a grave per Poet. lib. ii. 1. 30. formance. A third reason ought to have no less influence than either of the former, That a man, who, upon his first appearance, strains to make a figure, is too ostentatious to be relished. Hence the first sentences of a work ought to be short, natural and simple. Cicero, in his oration pro Archia poeta, errs against this rule: his reader is out of breath at the very first period; which seems never to end. Burnet begins the History of his Own Times with a period long and intricate, A third rule or observation is, That where the subject is intended for entertainment solely, not for instruction, a thing ought to be described as it appears, not as it is in reality. In running, for example, the impulse upon the ground is proportioned in some degree to the celerity of motion: though in appearance it is otherwise; for a person in swift motion seems to skim the ground, and scarcely to touch it. Virgil, with great taste, describes quick running according to appearance; and raises an image far more lively than by adhering scrupulous. ly to truth: Hos super advenit Volsca de gente Camilla, Agmen agens equitum et florentes ære catervas, . Bellatrix non illa colo calathisve Minervæ Fœmineas assueta manus; sed prælia virgo Dura pati, cursuque pedum prævertere ventos. Illa vel intactæ segetis per summa volaret Gramina: nec teneras cursu læsisset aristas: Vel mare per medium, fluctu suspensa tumenti, Ferret iter; celeres nec tingeret æquore plantas. Æneid, vii. 803. This example is copied by the author of Telemachus: Les Brutiens sont legeres à la course comme les cerfs, et comme les daims. On croiroit que l'herbe même la plus tendre n'est point foulée sous leurs pieds; à peine laissentils dans le sable quelques traces de leurs pas. Liv. $. Again: Déjà il avoit abattu Eusilas si léger à la course, qu'à peine il imprimoit la trace de ses pas dans le sable, et qui devançoit dans son pays les plus rapides flots de l'Eurotas et de l'Alphée. Liv. XX. Fourth, In narration as well as in description, objects ought to be painted so accurately as to form in the mind of the reader distinct and lively images, Every useless circumstance ought indeed to be suppressed, because every such circumstance loads the narration; but if a circumstance be necessary, however slight, it cannot be described too minutely. The force of language consists in raising complete images ;* which have the effect to transport the reader as by magic into the very place of the important action, and to convert him as it were into a spectator, beholding every thing that passes. The narrative in an epic poem ought to rival a picture in the liveliness and accuracy of its representatious: no circumstance must be omitted that tends to make a complete image; because an imperfect image, as well as any other imperfect conception, is cold and uninteresting. 1 shall illustrate this rale by several examples, giving the first place to a beautiful passage from Virgil: Qualis populea morens Philomela sub umbrâ Georg. lib. iv. l. 511. The poplar, ploughman, and unfledged young, though not essential in the description, tend to make a complete image, and upon that account are an embellishment. * Chapter II. Part i. Sect. 7. Again: Hic viridem Æneas frondenti ex ilice metam Eneid, v. 129. Carm. lib. i. ode 35. Carm. lib. iii. ode 2. Shakspeare says, "You may as well go about to "turn the sun to ice by fanning in his face with a "peacock's feather." The peacock's feather, not to mention the beauty of the object, completes the image: an accurate image cannot be formed of that fanciful operation, without conceiving a particular feather; and one is at a loss when this is neglected in the description. Again, "the rogues slighted "me into the river with as little remorse, as they "would have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fif"teen i' th' litter."+ Old Lady. You would not be a queen? Anne. No, not for all the riches under heav'n. Old Lady. 'Tis strange: a threepence bow'd would hire me, old as I am, to queen it. Henry VIII. Act II. Sc. 5. In the following passage, the action, with all its material circumstances, is represented so much te * Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 4. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act ili. Sc. 15. |