Aristotle
describes it, when it
consists of a Beginning, a Middle, and an End. Nothing should go before
it, be intermixed with it, or follow after it, that is not related to
it. As on the contrary, no single Step should be omitted in that just
and regular Progress which it must be supposed to take from its Original
to its Consummation. Thus we see the Anger of
Achilles
in its Birth,
its Continuance and Effects; and
Æneas's
Settlement in
Italy
,
carried on thro' all the Oppositions in his Way to it both by Sea and
Land. The Action in
Milton
excels (I think) both the former in this
Particular; we see it contrived in Hell, executed upon Earth, and
punished by Heaven.
Parts of it are told in the most distinct
Manner, and grow out of one another in the most natural
Order
.
The third Qualification of an Epic Poem is its
Greatness
. The Anger of
Achilles
was of such Consequence, that it embroiled the Kings of
Greece
, destroyed the Heroes of
Troy
, and engaged all the Gods in
Factions.
Æneas's
Settlement in
Italy
produced the
Cæsars
, and
gave Birth to the
Roman
Empire.
Milton's
Subject was still greater
than either of the former; it does not determine the Fate of single
Persons or Nations, but of a whole Species. The united Powers of Hell
are joined together for the Destruction of Mankind, which they affected
in part, and would have completed, had not Omnipotence it self
interposed. The principal Actors are Man in his greatest Perfection, and
Woman in her highest Beauty. Their Enemies are the fallen Angels: The
Messiah their Friend, and the Almighty their Protector. In short, every
thing that is great in the whole Circle of Being, whether within the
Verge of Nature, or out of it, has a proper Part assigned it in this
noble Poem.
In Poetry, as in Architecture, not only the Whole, but the principal
Members, and every Part of them, should be Great. I
not presume to
say, that the Book of Games in the
Æneid
, or that in the
Iliad
, are
not of this Nature, nor to reprehend
Virgil's
Simile of the Top
,
and many other of the same
kind
in the
Iliad
, as liable to any
Censure in this Particular; but I think we may say, without
derogating from
those wonderful Performances, that there is an unquestionable
Magnificence in every Part of
Paradise Lost
, and indeed a much greater
than could have been formed upon any Pagan System.
But
Aristotle
, by the Greatness of the Action, does not only mean that
it should be great in its Nature, but also in its Duration, or in other
Words that it should have a due Length in it, as well as what we
properly call Greatness. The
Measure of this kind of Magnitude, he
explains by the following Similitude.
An Animal, no bigger than a
Mite, cannot appear perfect to the Eye, because the Sight takes it in at
once, and has only a confused Idea of the Whole, and not a distinct Idea
of all its Parts; if on the contrary you should suppose an Animal of ten
thousand Furlongs in length, the Eye would be so filled with a single
Part of it, that it could not give the Mind an Idea of the Whole. What
these Animals are to the Eye, a very short or a very long Action would
be to the Memory. The first would be, as it were, lost and swallowed up
by it, and the other difficult to be contained in it.
Homer
Virgil
have shewn their principal Art in this Particular; the Action
of the
Iliad
, and that of the
Æneid
, were in themselves exceeding
short, but are so beautifully extended and diversified by the
Invention
of
Episodes
, and the Machinery of Gods, with the like poetical
Ornaments, that they make up an agreeable Story, sufficient to employ
the Memory without overcharging it.
Milton's
Action is enriched with
such a Variety of Circumstances, that I have taken as much Pleasure in
reading the Contents of his Books, as in the best invented Story I ever
met with. It is possible, that the Traditions, on which the
Iliad
and
Æneid
were built, had more Circumstances in them than the History of
the
Fall of Man
, as it is related in Scripture. Besides, it was easier
for
Homer
and
Virgil
to dash the Truth with Fiction, as they were in
no danger of offending the Religion of their Country by it. But as for
Milton
, he had not only a very few Circumstances upon which to raise
his Poem, but was also obliged to proceed with the greatest Caution in
every thing that he added out of his own Invention. And, indeed,
notwithstanding all the Restraints he was under, he has filled his Story
with so many surprising Incidents, which bear so close an Analogy with
what is delivered in Holy Writ, that it is capable of pleasing the most
delicate Reader, without giving Offence to the most scrupulous.
The modern Criticks have collected from several Hints in the
Iliad
and
Æneid
the Space of Time, which is taken up by the Action of each of
those Poems; but as a great Part of
Milton's
Story was transacted in
Regions that lie out of the Reach of the Sun and the Sphere of Day, it
is impossible to gratify the Reader with such a Calculation, which
indeed would be more curious than instructive; none of the Criticks,
either Ancient or Modern, having laid down Rules to circumscribe the
Action of an Epic Poem with any determin'd Number of Years, Days or
Hours.
This Piece of Criticism on
Milton's Paradise Lost
shall be carried on
in the following
Saturdays
Papers
.
L.
'Give place to him, Writers of Rome and Greece.'
This
application to Milton of a line from the last elegy (25th) in the second
book of Propertius is not only an example of Addison's felicity in
choice of motto for a paper, but was so bold and well-timed that it must
have given a wholesome shock to the minds of many of the
Spectator's
readers. Addison was not before Steele in appreciation of Milton and
diffusion of a true sense of his genius. Milton was the subject of the
first piece of poetical criticism in the
Tatler
; where, in his sixth
number, Steele, having said that 'all Milton's 'thoughts are wonderfully
just and natural,' dwelt on the passage in which Adam tells his thoughts
upon first falling asleep, soon after his creation. This passage he
contrasts with 'the same apprehension of Annihilation' ascribed to Eve
in a much lower sense by Dryden in his operatic version of
Paradise
Lost
. In
Tatlers
and
Spectators
Steele and Addison had been equal
contributors to the diffusion of a sense of Milton's genius. In Addison
it had been strong, even when, at Oxford, in April, 1694, a young man
trained in the taste of the day, he omitted Shakespeare from a rhymed
'Account of the chief English Poets,' but of Milton said:
'Whate'er his pen describes I more than see,
Whilst ev'ry verse, array'd in majesty,
Bold and sublime, my whole attention draws,
And seems above the critics' nicer laws.'
Eighteen years older than he was when he wrote that, Addison now
prepares by a series of Saturday Essays,—the Saturday Paper which
reached many subscribers only in time for Sunday reading, being always
set apart in the
Spectator
for moral or religious topics, to show
that, judged also by Aristotle and the "critics' nicer laws," Milton was
even technically a greater epic poet than either Homer or Virgil. This
nobody had conceded. Dryden, the best critic of the outgoing generation,
had said in the Dedication of the Translations of
Juvenal
and
Persius
, published in 1692,
"As for Mr. Milton, whom we all admire with so much Justice, his
Subject, is not that of an Heroick Poem, properly so call'd: His
Design is the Losing of our Happiness; his Event is not prosperous,
like that of all other Epique Works" (Dryden's French spelling of
the word Epic is suggestive. For this new critical Mode was one of the
fashions that had been imported from Paris); "His Heavenly Machines
are many, and his Human Persons are but two. But I will not take Mr.
Rymer's work out of his Hands: He has promised the World a Critique
on that Author; wherein, tho' he will not allow his Poem for Heroick,
I hope he will grant us, that his Thoughts are elevated, his Words
sounding, and that no Man has so happily copy'd the manner of Homer;
or so copiously translated his Grecisms and the Latin Elegancies of
Virgil. 'Tis true he runs into a Flat of Thought, sometimes for a
Hundred Lines together, but 'tis when he is got into a Track of
Scripture ... Neither will I justify Milton for his Blank Verse,
tho' I may excuse him, by the Example of Hanabal Caro and other
Italians who have used it: For whatever Causes he alledges for the
abolishing of Rhime (which I have not now the leisure to examine), his
own particular Reason is plainly this, that Rhime was not his Talent;
he had neither the Ease of doing it, nor the Graces of it."
So Dryden, who appreciated Milton better than most of his critical
neighbours, wrote of him in 1692. The promise of Rymer to discuss Milton
was made in 1678, when, on the last page of his little book,
The
Tragedies of the Last Age consider'd and examined by the Practice of the
Ancients and by the Common Sense of all Ages, in a letter to Fleetwold
Shepheard, Esq
. (father of two ladies who contribute an occasional
letter to the
Spectator
), he said:
"With the remaining Tragedies I
shall also send you some reflections on that Paradise Lost of
Milton's, which some are pleased to call a Poem, and assert Rhime
against the slender Sophistry wherewith he attaques it."
But two years
after the appearance of Dryden's
Juvenal
and
Persius
Rymer prefixed
to his translation of Réné Rapin's
Reflections on Aristotle's Poesie
some Reflections of his own on Epic Poets. Herein he speaks under the
head Epic Poetry of Chaucer, 'in whose time language was not capable of
heroic character;' or Spenser, who "wanted a true Idea, and lost himself
by following an unfaithful guide, besides using a stanza which is in no
wise proper for our language;" of Sir William Davenant, who, in
Gondibert
, "has some strokes of an extraordinary judgment," but "is
for unbeaten tracks and new ways of thinking;" "his heroes are
foreigners;" of Cowley, in whose
Davideis
"David is the least part of
the Poem," and there is want of the "one illustrious and perfect action
which properly is the subject of an Epick Poem": all failing through
ignorance or negligence of the Fundamental Rules or Laws of Aristotle.
But he contemptuously passes over Milton without 'mention.' Réné Rapin,
that great French oracle of whom Dryden said, in the Preface to his own
conversion of
Paradise Lost
into an opera, that he was 'alone
sufficient, were all other critics lost, to teach anew the Art of
Writing,' Réné Rapin in the work translated and introduced by Rymer,
worshipped in Aristotle the one God of all orthodox critics. Of his Laws
he said,
'There is no arriving at Perfection but by these Rules, and they
certainly go astray that take a different course.... And if a Poem
made by these Rules fails of success, the fault lies not in the Art,
but in the Artist; all who have writ of this Art, have followed no
other Idea but that of Aristotle.'
Again as to Style,
'to say the truth, what is good on this subject is all taken from
Aristotle, who is the only source whence good sense is to be drawn,
when one goes about to write.'
This was the critical temper Addison resolved to meet on its own ground
and do battle with for the honour of that greatest of all Epic Poets to
whom he fearlessly said that all the Greeks and Latins must give place.
In so doing he might suggest here and there cautiously, and without
bringing upon himself the discredit of much heresy,—indeed, without
being much of a heretic, —that even the Divine Aristotle sometimes fell
short of perfection. The conventional critics who believed they kept the
gates of Fame would neither understand nor credit him. Nine years after
these papers appeared, Charles Gildon, who passed for a critic of
considerable mark, edited with copious annotation as '
the Laws of
Poetry
' (1721), the Duke of Buckingham's 'Essay on Poetry,' Roscommon's
'Essay on Translated Verse,' and Lord Lansdowne 'on Unnatural Flights in
Poetry,' and in the course of comment Gildon said that
'Mr. Addison in the Spectators, in his criticisms upon Milton, seems
to have mistaken the matter, in endeavouring to bring that poem to the
rules of the epopœia, which cannot be done ... It is not an Heroic
Poem, but a Divine one, and indeed of a new species. It is plain that
the proposition of all the heroic poems of the ancients mentions some
one person as the subject of their poem... But Milton begins his poem
of things, and not of men.'
The Gildons are all gone; and when, in the next generation after theirs,
national life began, in many parts of Europe, strongly to assert itself
in literature against the pedantry of the French critical lawgivers, in
Germany Milton's name was inscribed on the foremost standard of the men
who represented the new spirit of the age. Gottsched, who dealt French
critical law from Leipzig, by passing sentence against Milton in his
'Art of Poetry' in 1737, raised in Bodmer an opponent who led the revolt
of all that was most vigorous in German thought, and put an end to
French supremacy. Bodmer, in a book published in 1740
Vom Wunderbaren
in der Poesie
, justified and exalted Milton, and brought Addison to his
aid by appending to his own work a translation of these Milton papers
out of the
Spectator
. Gottsched replied; Bodmer retorted. Bodmer
translated
Paradise Lost
; and what was called the English or Milton
party (but was, in that form, really a German national party) were at
last left masters of the field. It was right that these papers of
Addison should be brought in as aids during the contest. Careful as he
was to conciliate opposing prejudices, he was yet first in the field,
and this motto to the first of his series of Milton papers, 'Yield place
to him, Writers of Greece and Rome,' is as the first trumpet note of the
one herald on a field from which only a quick ear can yet distinguish
among stir of all that is near, the distant tramp of an advancing host.
so irksom as
say
Aristotle,
Poetics
, III. § I, after a full discussion of
Tragedy, begins by saying,
'with respect to that species of Poetry which imitates by Narration
... it is obvious, that the Fable ought to be dramatically
constructed, like that of Tragedy, and that it should have for its
Subject one entire and perfect action, having a beginning, a middle,
and an end;'
forming a complete whole, like an animal, and therein differing,
Aristotle says, from History, which treats not of one Action, but of one
Time, and of all the events, casually connected, which happened to one
person or to many during that time.
Poetics
, I. § 9.
'Epic Poetry agrees so far with Tragic as it is an imitation of great
characters and actions.'
Aristotle (from whose opinion, in this matter alone, his worshippers
departed, right though he was) ranked a perfect tragedy above a perfect
epic; for, he said,
'all the parts of the Epic poem are to be found in Tragedy, not all
those of Tragedy in the Epic poem.'
Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri,
Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo,
Semper ad eventum festinat, et in medias res,
Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit—
De Arte Poet.
II. 146-9.
with great Art
the Story
Poetics
, V. § 3. In arguing the superiority of Tragic to
Epic Poetry, Aristotle says,
'there is less Unity in all Epic imitation; as appears from this—that
any Epic Poem will furnish matter for several Tragedies ... The
Iliad, for example, and the Odyssey, contain many such subordinate
parts, each of which has a certain Magnitude and Unity of its own; yet
is the construction of those Poems as perfect, and as nearly
approaching to the imitation of a single action, as possible.'
labours also
Circumstances
Simplicity
.
Dryden's
Spanish Friar
has been praised also by Johnson
for the happy coincidence and coalition of the tragic and comic plots,
and Sir Walter Scott said of it, in his edition of Dryden's
Works
, that
'the felicity does not consist in the ingenuity of his original
conception, but in the minutely artificial strokes by which the reader
is perpetually reminded of the dependence of the one part of the Play
on the other. These are so frequent, and appear so very natural, that
the comic plot, instead of diverting our attention from the tragic
business, recalls it to our mind by constant and unaffected allusion.
No great event happens in the higher region of the camp or court that
has not some indirect influence upon the intrigues of Lorenzo and
Elvira; and the part which the gallant is called upon to act in the
revolution that winds up the tragic interest, while it is highly in
character, serves to bring the catastrophe of both parts of the play
under the eye of the spectator, at one and the same time.'
Method
Æneid
, Bk. VII. 11. 378-384, thus translated by Dryden:
'And as young striplings whip the top for sport,
On the smooth pavement of an empty court,
The wooden engine files and whirls about,
Admir'd, with clamours, of the beardless rout;
They lash aloud, each other they provoke,
And lend their little souls at every stroke:
Thus fares the Queen, and thus her fury blows
Amidst the crowds, and trundles as she goes.'
nature
offence to
Poetics
, II. section 4, where it is said of the
magnitude of Tragedy.
Intervention
Contents
Contents, p.3
|
Monday, January 7, 1712 |
Steele |
—Minus aptus acutis
Naribus Horum Hominum.
Hor.
Mr.
Spectator1,
'As you are
Spectator-General, I apply myself to you in the
following Case; viz. I d
o not wear a Sword, but I often divert my self
at the Theatre, where I frequently see a Set of Fellows pull plain
People, by way of Humour
and2 Frolick, by the Nose, upon
frivolous or no Occasions. A Friend of mine the other Night applauding
what a graceful Exit Mr.
Wilks made, one of these Nose-wringers
overhearing him, pinched him by the nose. I was in the Pit the other
Night, (when it was very much crowded) a Gentleman leaning upon me,
and very heavily, I very civilly requested him to remove his Hand; for
which he pulled me by the Nose. I would not resent it in so publick a
Place, because I was unwilling to create a Disturbance; but have since
reflected upon it as a thing that is unmanly and disingenuous, renders
the Nose-puller odious, and makes the Person pulled by the Nose look
little and contemptible. This Grievance I humbly request you would
endeavour to redress.
I am your Admirer, &c.
James Easy.
Mr.
Spectator,
Your Discourse of the 29th of
December on Love and Marriage is of so
useful a Kind, that I cannot forbear adding my Thoughts to yours on
that Subject. Methinks it is a Misfortune, that the Marriage State,
which in its own Nature is adapted to give us the compleatest
Happiness this Life is capable of, should be so uncomfortable a one to
so many as it daily proves. But the Mischief generally proceeds from
the unwise Choice People make for themselves, and Expectation of
Happiness from Things not capable of giving it. Nothing but the good
Qualities of the Person beloved can be a Foundation for a Love of
Judgment and Discretion; and whoever expects Happiness from any Thing
but Virtue, Wisdom, Good-humour, and a Similitude of Manners, will
find themselves widely mistaken. But how few are there who seek after
these things, and do not rather make Riches their chief if not their
only Aim? How rare is it for a Man, when he engages himself in the
Thoughts of Marriage, to place his Hopes of having in such a Woman a
constant, agreeable Companion? One who will divide his Cares and
double his Joys? Who will manage that Share of his Estate he intrusts
to her Conduct with Prudence and Frugality, govern his House with
Œconomy and Discretion, and be an Ornament to himself and Family?
Where shall we find the Man who looks out for one who places her chief
Happiness in the Practice of Virtue, and makes her Duty her continual
Pleasure? No: Men rather seek for Money as the Complement of all their
Desires; and regardless of what kind of Wives they take, they think
Riches will be a Minister to all kind of Pleasures, and enable them to
keep Mistresses, Horses, Hounds, to drink, feast, and game with their
Companions, pay their Debts contracted by former Extravagancies, or
some such vile and unworthy End; and indulge themselves in Pleasures
which are a Shame and Scandal to humane Nature. Now as for the Women;
how few of them are there who place the Happiness of their Marriage in
the having a wise and virtuous Friend? one who will be faithful and
just to all, and constant and loving to them? who with Care and
Diligence will look after and improve the Estate, and without grudging
allow whatever is prudent and convenient? Rather, how few are there
who do not place their Happiness in outshining others in Pomp and
Show? and that do not think within themselves when they have married
such a rich Person, that none of their Acquaintance shall appear so
fine in their Equipage, so adorned in their Persons, or so magnificent
in their Furniture as themselves? Thus their Heads are filled with
vain Ideas; and I heartily wish I could say that Equipage and Show
were not the Chief Good of so many Women as I fear it is.
After this Manner do both Sexes deceive themselves, and bring
Reflections and Disgrace upon the most happy and most honourable State
of Life; whereas if they would but correct their depraved Taste,
moderate their Ambition, and place their Happiness upon proper
Objects, we should not find Felicity in the Marriage State such a
Wonder in the World as it now is.
Sir, if you think these Thoughts worth inserting
among3 your own,
be pleased to give them a better Dress, and let them pass abroad; and
you will oblige
Your Admirer,
A. B.
Mr.
Spectator,
As I was this Day walking in the Street, there happened to pass by on
the other Side of the Way a Beauty, whose Charms were so attracting
that it drew my Eyes wholly on that Side, insomuch that I neglected my
own Way, and chanced to run my Nose directly against a Post; which the
Lady no sooner perceived, but fell out into a Fit of Laughter, though
at the same time she was sensible that her self was the Cause of my
Misfortune, which in my Opinion was the greater Aggravation of her
Crime. I being busy wiping off the Blood which trickled down my Face,
had not Time to acquaint her with her Barbarity, as also with my
Resolution,
viz. never to look out of my Way for one of her Sex
more: Therefore, that your humble Servant may be revenged, he desires
you to insert this in one of your next Papers, which he hopes will be
a Warning to all the rest of the Women Gazers, as well as to poor
Anthony Gape.
Mr.
Spectator,
I desire to know in your next, if the merry Game of
The Parson has
lost his Cloak, is not mightily in Vogue amongst the fine Ladies this
Christmas; because I see they wear Hoods of all Colours, which I
suppose is for that Purpose: If it is, and you think it proper, I will
carry some of those Hoods with me to our Ladies in
Yorkshire;
because they enjoyned me to bring them something from
London that
was very New. If you can tell any Thing in which I can obey their
Commands more agreeably, be pleased to inform me, and you will
extremely oblige
Your humble Servant
Oxford, Dec. 29.
Mr.
Spectator,
Since you appear inclined to be a Friend to the Distressed, I beg you
would assist me in an Affair under which I have suffered very much.
The reigning Toast of this Place is
Patetia; I have pursued her with
the utmost Diligence this Twelve-month, and find nothing stands in my
Way but one who flatters her more than I can. Pride is her Favourite
Passion; therefore if you would be so far my Friend as to make a
favourable Mention of her in one of your Papers, I believe I should
not fail in my Addresses. The Scholars stand in Rows, as they did to
be sure in your Time, at her Pew-door: and she has all the Devotion
paid to her by a Crowd of Youth
s who are unacquainted with the Sex,
and have Inexperience added to their Passion: However, if it succeeds
according to my Vows, you will make me the happiest Man in the World,
and the most obliged amongst all
Your humble Servants.
Mr.
Spectator,
I came
to4 my Mistress's Toilet this Morning, for I am admitted
when her Face is stark naked: She frowned, and cryed Pish when I said
a thing that I stole; and I will be judged by you whether it was not
very pretty.
Madam, said I, you
shall5 forbear that Part of your
Dress; it may be well in others, but you cannot place a Patch where it
does not hide a Beauty.