-~·

.•

. -.

BY THE HONORABLE

•.

•

HE]\'RY HOME OF- KAMES .

. :· ,.-

'\..

;,

_,..

E-D1TED

IJY JOHN FROST A.. IL

....

-

\

,. ..

NEW ;EDITIOl'I.
;

c ·',

-

NEW YORK:

·.
SAMUEL <RAY N 0 R,
76

BOWER Y .

1855 .

.,

'

,tr.

:.1...

-,

·'

_,...._

.

~

.•

·.'

"11 .
. '"
...

•

•C .. .

"·

THE

.:~

·.;.

.

:.

:.-.·: ,,(. .

i
i,. ,-;

'>~-. IN·pr~~~~~g the.p~;stti.t ab~dgment o(~t~ .:.~ I

Elemep~ ·of -~it1c~
for pubIi-~tion, .
.
~
rise has been . made of Ja:rniesoh's abridg~ ·
·..
• '
.,.. .
...
t
....
-..r.
..
. • .•
ment, publishediin"LGndon inJ823. ' It has hep_
. ~· f ound necessary, however, to d-eviate from hi~ · .~1;,
·: , "" lan in. several
particula~
..~,:." ·.:: ~:· . -~:r·_ ':'~\
-. ""'~il'
.
,
,,
~
. . ,.Y,.
,... .... ,.

jJ ii~·, · ~ 's
JI

"

;'

-~ ~;

·-~

·t"

~.~:'™~i~~f _th~ · book:.n~ been ~ris1d~~b~!: 'f.'..?.

1

>

•

" ~ ," ~~,-by. om1ttmg portion~ of<' whJch. t11el™t't,-_
_..
• . ·; ,:ii tcaf uti~ty _was not suffici~ndy apparent ~f(f j~;~ ·'"'
/~:.r.
·:"-.'.;~ ~
--~ -~
- r_ . being· retained iq a~rk intend~ fo :.
· ~}~ jietal .use.
:~. "· ·
~:,.

~
i·

!-

.~

'~'.'t.

··_a_
..

·

.

'_
'·quotations . of which the :delicacy
wa8~ in
lol:
·;•
.-.
,~fslightest degree questionab!e;:have been·omit·
ted, as also quotations in the ancient and foreig~.
. . ;:
.
l ~guages.
.. . .,_ ..
t ertain of the terms used by Lord Kames.- iri: · ~

I
\

.l

~-;·,: -Jl:r~in -·1?~-?~s~io_ns and emotio~ have _beett~~~;~·
.;· _· __ ~
'~ei:i~ to the advanced state · q~_-f
.·; intell
. i)RM)\lf .
,, .
-~.~:;,,
·-~- ~":::~:~~ ~
a
. . •
. . . ~ ... .
. .... -;'~:.:., , : :

1,

'I\• :

...

:·

,

•

. .,...

.

·.
'"r Y'
~ '.'·

....

.

'l!<

..
.,.~::·

'
. , , :..

-

'

'

•6

"

:~o:N:_:r~NTS. ·

·'t..; ..

,~,~.· ~~· ·

·~ ;.~

.

..~.._ ...

•.-;.~-- .,· -~ ~ Page
CHAP. 1. AssociatiQA .of ldeas .• ~ · .••• ·-· •••• , •. -••., •• , ••• ·-· 11
2. Emotions~- -. . "fin~._._ · ,·.~~.~ <.·· : .,:•· ·· ·• ···
16
Part l. Causes unM
.E~io.# and Pass~ons:
Sect. l. Difference ,
~~~ . Wl'.·~~"->-~fon.Causes that are tlie:'
-..;.;~~;tt~
JlrittiIQon
_-~d- the .most
.
T"'.'' ~ . ~.,_ .,.
..
ereq.;as.R~~ctive of
Action . ......... . ...... : .~.. · ..- ~ ··• · · · · · · ·· ib.
2., Power of Sounds to raise Emotion; "ana1Passions 20
3. ~Cfauses of the Emotions of Joy and Sorrow •...•
21
4 . .Sympathetic Emotion of Virtue, and ira Cause . . 22
5. In many instances one Emotion is productiv · of
anotber.-The same of Passions ....•...•.••.
23
6. Causes of the Passions of Fear and Anger .. . . .• 25
7. Emotions caused by Fiction • . ................ . 27
Part 2. Emotions and Passions ' es pleasant aaj ,ajQful,
agreeable and disagreeable.-M ·
·
of
these Qualities ..•.. . ...••••...•
31
3. Interrupted Existence of Emotions a
-Their Growth and Decay •..••••••• •
36
4. Coexistent Emotions and Passions....•. .' .••• •.
40
• 5. influence of Passions with respect to our Perceptions, Opinions, and Belief .. .-. ...... . ....•••
~
6. Resemblance of Emotions to their causes .••••••
45
7. Final Causes of the more frequent Emotions and
Passions . .. .. ... .. ................. . .... . . 4 6
CHAP. 3. Beauty •........... -.. .... . .•...... .. .. • .... .
50
4. Grandeur and Sublimity .. . .. .. . . .... ·······••
55 5. Motion and Force . . .... . ........ · . · · . · · · · · • • 64
6. Novelty, and the un ~xpected app~arance of objects . .. .•.. ... .... ...... ... · ..... ..... ... .
67
7. Risible Objects. ... . . ... ... . . ............ . . .
71
8. Resemblance and Dissimilitude ....... , ...... .
72
9. Uniformity an<i Variety .. . .............. ... . .
76
10. Congruity and Propriety ... .... .... . ... ..... . 80
11. Dignity and Grace .. ...... . ...... ...... • . . .. . 84

•·

, .

..,..

..

,~.. : -~. '~'

')

-*e

A2

-

.

'

,.

-· ,.~

~

''"'C

.

~-

.-,..

· . OONTE,JJ.TS.
Page
•••••••• r- ;:£7

9!'"'
99

103
105
I~~
I~

ib.
134
145
. 11· ;i
Cu.Ai>, 19•.., !?

147

-~·· 20. 'll!1
. . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . ~. . . . . . .
·, .. ~.... ~..;.- .. ·,,,,.~ . _.. .
.
:·
·~<Sefi:L 1.
ersomficahoo ....... ... ...•..... i' \'-:, . ~ · ~ • • • •
' ·,;-->
•·· ,.2, . .A p~s t rop h e .......... ... ........ ··' ;lt;~,., ..... .

...

;3. Hyperbole .......... . ................: . :·.:...
~ 4. The Means or Instrument conceived to .be the
"Agent.... .. .. . ..................... . . . . .
5. A Fig ure, which, among relative objects, extends
the Properties of one to another........ . .. ..
·epiphor and Allegory. . . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . .
· ~- of Speech.. .............. .. . .. .. .. . •
on and Description . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • . . •
and Dramatic Comp°"'ition. . . • • • • • • • . . .
. '' fhree .Uoities .... ... ..
. . . . . • . .. .
. ~. Gardening and Architecture
. • • • • • .. • . .
25. Standard of Taste.........
••. . •. •. •

161
181
182
196

198
201
202
206
218
222
242
265
275
295

\

I

..

".~;:f-' ~'.)

. -.. '*.r.:
..
. ··- 1·· ···t/ tf

·-~.

~· ~

~

• '

~~-~-

•

RDDUCTION.

.

.):;;°;}f j

'Tm: des;~ of 'tiw .,resent undertaking is, to examine the sen·
sitive bran~-of hJJi~ nature, to trace the objects that are naturally ag?eeable, a!i
ru; those that are naturally disagreeable;
and by these means to discover, if we can, 'jVhat are the genlllne
, principles of th~ fine .arts. The man who aspires to be a critic.
~·
these'" arts;'must pierce still deeper: he must acquire a clea1
percep.~~ of ·what ..objects are lofty, what low, whe.t proper o:r
im:p10iJl;'r;='what mefily, and what mean or trivial. Hence a foundatiO!F:p - reaso~lng upon the taste of any individual, and fo~
passirlg-~te~C(-upo~ it. Wh_ere it is ~o~o~mable to p;~cip~es,
· can pronounce ~w1th eertamty that 1t is correct; otherWISe,
•t at it is inco~C':t; atld~ ~rhaps whi ical. Thus the fine~··
like mo.rals, -~nie !1~:rati5!nal scien, ~ t'and, like morals, may, be ··
cultivated to a 'iiigh a·eg.ree' of refineme~t
.
' Manifold are the advantages of criticis·!Dl,wi'ien thus studied as
a rational science. In the first. place, a ''thorough acquaintance
wi~ ~-!?1ciples of the fine arts, red_oubles. the pleas_ure we
d~~e ftbin:JJ.iem.. To !11e . . who r_es1gns . himself ~nt1rely to
..itent or tf!elmg, w1thou mterposmg ~ sort of Judgment,
, music and painting, are mere pastime: in the prime of life,
;rere delightful, being supported by the force of novelty
eed,
th · ei:.. of imag¥ion : but in time they lose their relish,
an~!ar~rally~neglected in the maturity of life, which disposes to more serious and more important occupations. To those
who d& in criticism as a regular science, governed l>y just principles, and giving scope to judgment as well as to fancy, the fine
arts are a favorite entertainment; and in old age they maintain that
relish which they produce in the morning of life.
In the next place, a philosophic inquiry into the principles of
the fine arts, inures the reflecting mind to the most enticing sort
of logic: the practice of reasoning upon subjects so agreeable,
tends to a habit; and a:~ habit, strengthening the reasoning facul- ~
ties, prepares the mind for entering into subjects more intrica te
and abstract. To have, in that respect, a just conception of the
importance of criticism, we need but reflect upon the common
method of education; which, after some years spent in acquiring
lanpages, hurries us, without the least preparatory discipline,

·wen·

,c

.,, .

.,,

-""·:*;.. ·-i
,

m.

I

.I

7

·I

viii ·

INT

int6;1bll most profi nd . philosop~y- . A
j!Qtual meth .
·'
all&hate the tender mind from abstract sCience, is beyond the r
• , ;-"·'~,of:inVenfion: and accordmgly, with respect tq suc_h speculations, ·;
.--~ '·-~; lhe bulk ofwo~ youth,..,eentract <a :sort of hobg6blin terror, which ·
·* •;\! is seldom -~-liv¢11'i sul'iilued. Tlioi!e who apply ·.to the arts, are
'°".
trained .in 'e( v~ri·dlffe'rerit manner: they are led, ste.p by step,
frontthe,easief parts of the operation, to what are ID()r.!l difficult;
and are..not>:·pennitted to make a neW' motion till tney are perfected in .those which uo before. Thus the science. of criticism "
may be c~n· ·· dered as : middle link, connecting.the different parts
of education into a regular chain. This scienle. furnishes an inviting opportunity to exercise the judgment: w~. delight-to reaSoll
u!>O'I! '1)1jects that are equally pleasant and fllIIli)\ar : we·proceed
~:¢from the simpler to the ,m_ore invc_>l-yed,.'Cases : and · .
'a3f~· course of disciplin~~tl:>m, wb.icll-im
· ~our facu ·
-~-bestows acuteness on'@!it! of r~·suffi
' to unravei all
th; intricacies .~f philos'dphf ,,· i. '·
Nor ought it to be overlooked, th!lt,the reasonings employed .on
the fine arts, are of ~ same kimhvitb those which regulate our
conduct. Mathematical and metaphysical reasonings have nc
e ; nor are t~~~J>plicable
tendency to improve social interT
to the common affairs of life: but ~'just taste of tlre fine artE, derived from rational principles, furnishes elegant subjects fore'onversation, and prepares us for acting in the social stat! with dig~ ·
nity and propriety.
~~~~ · ~: The science of rational criticism tends.to ill!prove:t4~ heart no
· less than the understanding. It tends, in the~rst place, 19 moderate the selfish affections : by sweetening and harmonizing the
temper, it is a strong antidote to the turbulence of passion and
violence of pursuit: it procures to a man so much mental enjoyment, that in order to be occupied, he is not tempted to deliver
up his youth to hunting, gaming, drinking ; nor his middle age
to ambition ; nor his old ·age to avarice. Pride and envy, two
disgustful passions, find in the constitution no enemy more formi·
·dable than a delicate and discerning tasflr : the man upon whom
nature and culture have bestowed this blessing, feels great delight in the virtuous dispositions and actions of others: he love&
to cherish them, and to publish them to the world : faults and
railings, it is true, are to him not less obvious; but these he
avoids, or removes out of sil?'ht, beca ..:se they give him pain. On
~he other hand, a man ,·oid of taste. upon whom even striking

"'

!

·1:
I

.):
l•

1

1

INTRODUCTION.

l:X

beauties make but a faint impression, indulges pride or envy without·'cootrol, and loves to brood over errors and blemishes; in a
word, there are other passions, that, upon occnsion, may disturb the
peace of society more than those mentioned; but not another passion is so unwearied an antagonist to the sweets of social intercourse : pride and enry put a man perpetualiy in opposition. to
others, and dispose liim to relish bad more than · good .qualities,
even ~ a companion. How different that disposition of mind,
_. ·. w.here every virtue in a companion or neighbor, is, by refinement
'\ of taste, set in its strongest light, and defects or blemishes natural
- ~~all .are suppressed, or kept out of view 1
::In the next place, delicacy of taste tends not less to invigorate
theit!IOCial affectipns, than to moderate those that are selfish. To
be convil\Oed of that tendency, we need only reflect that delicacy
of taste ~e~essarily heightens our feeling of pain and pleasure ;
and of- urse our sympathy, which is the capital branch of every
social passion. S}'mpathy invites a communication of joys and
sorrows, hopes and fe~rs: such exercise, soothing and satisfactory
in itself, is nece . ifr productive of mutual good-will and affection.
q11e other adv~tage of criticism is reserved to the last plaoee,
~,\of all the most important; which is, that it is a great support tct"mola.Iity. I insist on it with entire satisfaction, that no
occupation attaches a man more to his duty, than that of cultiv~ a taste in the fine arts: a just relish for what is beautiful,
prqPil' elegant, and ornamental, in writing or painting, in e.rchiteCtO!e or gardening, ~ a fine preparation for the same just relish
of these qualities in cl:ikacter and behavior. To ·the man who
h~ acquired a taste so acute and accomplished, every action,
wrong or improper, must be highly disgustful: if, in any instance,
the overbearing power of passion sway him from his duty, he ret
to it with a doubled resolution never to be swayed a second
time: he has now an additional motive to virtue, a conviction derived from experience, tha~._ lia.p.piness depends on regularity and
orde_s" and that isregard to justice or propriety never fails to be
pumshed ·with sliji.ibe and remorse.
'
With respect tO the.• present undertaking, it is _not the author's
intention to compose . gular treatise upon e~ of the fine arts;
but only in neral to exhibit their fundamen,till .principles, drawn
from hu
· re, the true source of criticism. The fine arts
11re intend '
ntertnin us, by making pleasant impressions; and,

I

.1

t

N ARI\A.'IION
"

' .

~.::

A;tlf~-f>~PTION.
.. ..., - . ,, ._

·fS~· }hcmg~tsI it~ js>difficult to a~str ~ ~

.

abd stillf m01:e di
6( words, 'to- abstract allogether·,:

· · --,,

rc;iui)~ ·words·;

-

~··~' .

e

~

'

:

.

-

•

t

"'•ft.t:

.

ule is; Th~t in history tbe refi"~C(tiorls' ob.ght
an<J . ~d;. fru:_·~hil~ .t he .miti(t i~::'plt~nt
is little ~~spos~4·,to;.t~~ °"~~(l~'lP~t)ie
i .
• Strad~'s ~e.rgic Ilis~ory 18' .ftifl .ef(;;po,et~
ic~l images, ~hich, 'rlisc9rding : "
' .8ljbj¢
~"' ·
unpleasant; ·and they.have a sti
~t~
ing·an air of fiction to a genu·
',8ll.'.
er~ ought to be scattf,!red,witJl ..'
..~~i~. . .
;.,.;i~ '
ep10 poetry; and af :no · rate are
. . Qper till:, . · ; rJ. ·
reader be warme~, and by ~n eqlivene _' j~,a~p~f ~ -./ ~'
be· prepared to rehsh _them; ,m tpa_t s.t ate o'f''WP.'
. '
are agreeable: !Jut .while we are sedate and .. ·
'
,reject 'w.it~'...
to an historical ebain of facts,
every fiction. This _Belgic History' is _ i1;1.dee~ -wo'"
vicious both in mattef and in form: ·it is " stliff'etl~ ~
.

we

frigi~an~ unm~~m~ih~,~~pt~qns;.'~nd i~~~t~~alA~~~s1.

eyen laying ~side _th~1,r ~!mpropnety., .a re ·mer~ t!Ps~~ ..
Second, 'Vida,• following Horace, ·r ecommends a inod·
~fco~ence~~ntof
epic .poem :i.. gi.ving :f6£~~ea~·
S<>n, tliat tlie ·wnte<r. o'\lgQt JC?. ·husl:>iiP:ii'. qi~ie L . ~~·

an

rea~_ bas .w~igflt; ~l>ut wh~t is Sai<}~oove::s~ge)ta- a '­
reasoii still ~mdre~· w.eigbty :__bold tbo~g)lts. ~~a.~ -~
are never ·relished tiU the mind be heated aDd.lthoroughly engaged; wbich''ls not the reader's case ~fthe
c;Qmmencement; ' Homer introduce.snot a single si~ile
: . in fhe ·first book of the Iliad, nor in th~ first Qo<)k . of
the Ody.s$ey, · 6n the 6ther hand, Shakspear£' beg~
one of his plays·witb ·a sentiment too bold for tl:~£~<>.6.t"
heated imaginatiorr;
. ··· .. . . . i. .,_-., . ..,:
•
.-# .
4
·.'
Becifo:d; :ffu~g-~-:~e beav'll:ll. wilh~li~acls;, yie}4. ~J : .~'."
1

to

'

.,

•,

~

-

n1ghtl·. ·~-~~ ~~?t..,. ·;-."',;~ .....;":·\.:!'-"~ ·'1:'~-1:J

Comet11 0 1m~~cba\I~ of'tiln~ and

. ;•.

~,·

1~·· • ...,~-:.., .. ·~·~~:~~1tf._~._T-'

.. "' .

.__<''V-

_,,,,_

j .,~

1

~ ~,- -:

., 'ti

ata.te

.; ' ... · nrandillh-yottrcjya~~'in~~.~k\f ·-lt
.r· And Willi tli'eb1'~;~,t11e: li#.r9volfu!i-c'

.._~

I

J< •

,~!°

. 'it/ ·
. (t· .~'!·"
r •..•

, ·:.·

~... ~

••

.:

,

·,~EPlfi'tl
•

'

if.~mT1crsit..
~

.>>

.

r~·~,

\Jar.~cansented. µµto ·Henry'a jle,tl!;! , · ',·{i;'S, ·

~si

. t~i!. r!~ too {~nous to .live. Tqrig,4- , : ~ ·.j!t.. ,
d ne er lost a kmg of so much :worth,. " ...... ~
•,;:. .
.
.,
FIRST p .ART !liNll.

as~ge with whic.h

Strada begins hjf
for a subject of that kind;
ta.fe, too high for the beginning of a gr
ance. A .third reason ought to have no .
th:rn either of the former, That a man, who, upon.his
first app.ear~n( : : · · s to make a figure, is too ostenta• ious.
tQ
he·'·
Hence, the first • sentences• M. a
; '\
'Ii • •
.;wbr.k ougqt'. ..
natural, and simple. Cicero,
·> · iif.Aiis.ora im;i . ar: poet Archias, errs against this
,,,;~, ".ijt,; biS' reader is out of breath at the very first pe·, ~,k)'liM:; which seems never to end. Burnet begins the ~
,;~ · . Jlist.o~ypf his ·own Times wit.h a period long and i.ni.11 :too. p<;>etical

,

ttfod;t~~ ' ·.~

.

. .

.

..

· ~;.;_,~Jliii'd rule or o~servation is, That where (he · subj.¢~l.;1!_ intend~d for entertainment. sol:ely, .not f~r insfr~'tt'ion, a th11)g ought to be descnbed as 1t appears,

not as it is in rea lity. In running, for example, th e
impulse upon the ground is proportioned in some degree toJhe. celerity of motion; though in appearance
it is otherwise; for ;i. person in swift rpotion .seems to
skiin the ground, and scarcely to touch it.
·
. Fourth, In narration as well as in description, ob
jects.? ughf to be painted so accurately as to form iP
.tlf.~;- ~i#d ~hthe _re<1-der distinct and lively image><
Every.ljseless :<Elr.cuinstance ought indeed to be suppresse~d; '·be~;iuse: ' ~~ery. such circumstance loads the
nal'ration ;''but · if ·a circumstance be necessary, however. slight, it cannot be described too minutely. The
forc_e 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, an d
to convert him as it were into a spectator, beholdin g
every thing that passes. The narrative m an epic
"p0em ought to rival a picture in the li".eli_ness and ac-.
curacy of its representations: no circumstance must

N.4.§MTioN AND DESCRIPTION.
i'

~s to -make a complete image; because an im
·hnage,' as. weJl as any other imper• feet CQJlf~, ft IS:~old and uninteresting. I shall illustrate th.ls rule ' by several examples.
Shakspeare says;• "You m(l.y as well go about to
turn the sun to iCe _by fanning in his face \,Vith a peacock's feather." The peacock's feather, not to mention
the beauty of the object, completes the image:ac,, curate -iinage cannot be formed of that fanciful opera.~
tion, without conceiving ·a partit;u1ar ·feather; and one
_is at a loss wheri- this is·-i:ieglecfed in the descri;ptioii;
~gain~, "The rogues sli~hted me into the river ~th as
httle remorse as they would have drown'd a bitch's
blind puppies, fifteen i' th' litter."t

an

Old Lady. You ·would not be a queen?
No i not for. all' the riches under heaven.
_- ·_. '. 1:
OW Lady. 'Tis s~nge: a threepence bow'd _would hire;~;,
old as I am, to queen it.
HENRY VIII.-AcT II. ~~4',it

.llnne.

In the following passage, the action, with all its ma~
terial circumstances, is represented somuch tQ. the Iif~-;
that it ·wou1d scarce appear more -distini::t .t o a'._.i:ea:r
spectato11 an<f it is-: th~ inann~r o--C-d~scription '. that
contribu~es gr~a:tly to the sublimity of ~be .passage.: ' ·

He ~pake ;. llrid; to c<mtirm his words, out ·fiew l\jillipns of tlamin~ nfor.ds, drawh from the thighs
Of-«4'1igl!'iy;.t_heruQiqi ;;.t~1M1udden b~ -... _
- ,
Far :round illu!llm'li liell: ·higbty.4iey.~d . . .
arms
.-\gainst the Highest, and fierc.e w1~ ·
Cfash'd on tbeir sounding shields 'th~ •
• al',
H!}rling defiance toward the vaUl~,
'

.T._ ~~
-- -->-~

~~

\A pa~~ge I

am t~ cite fro~~-$' _

much short of that now mentioned;•' .
·,._i:.~.._-/'
description: O you bard hearts ! you cruel men of Rollie !

.
Knew you not Pompey? Many,.a.time and oft . ---:.,!. •.• ·
Have you :;limb'd up to walls atid battlements, -," ..-:~ ·• · ;.
To towers _and windowsi :¥ea; to chimney-top11- •".::- -)!!-0 • --:'~'.

"

·.:·~-

-/ \ .' ·"" ~. '- .._ ,: ·.:-,,~:t~--.:::-j:;';

•Henry V.- .Act IV. -Sc. 4.
-- · ·
t Merry Wives o(Wio~, Act 111. 'Sc.~'&. ·

;<.

•~!~~, : · .J~ta 'ill'~'lll'gl';:~d.~er~Qave:sat
: 1·;:, lie µv~<?llJi day, wifti p~ti n~ ~xpec~tion,

•

.~ ! "'~··
~ ·· ~:~~~--

. •. ~ ~e ~teat' P.ompe}'. pas! ~lie 11fteets ot Rom~ ;
· '."'1'i~~'gd'..wben you saw bis ch'1:not but appear, ~' " Ii· > ~:;~·
·
.1.Have you not made an universal shout,
•
, That Tiber trembled underneath his banks)
l
To' bear the replication of your sounds,
Made in his concave shores?
JuLIUs C.a.:un.-AcT I. Sc 1.,

The following passage is scarce inferior to either of .
those mentioned :
' .

_

Far before the rest, the son of Ossian comes; bright in the
smiles of youth, fair as· the first beams of the sun. His long ha~
waves. on his back: bis dark brow is half beneath bis helmet. The
·. B'WQrd hangs loose on _the hero's side: _and his. spear glitters as ·h e.
moves. , I lied from his terrible eye, king of high Temora.
·':,,

;I

1

·
' .~
' ~

!

Z: · {;f~~he H~nri.ade of Voltaire er~ gr~atly ag:i::t~~~:,' ' I

I

foregoing rule: every incident is touched in a summary.. i
way, without, ever descending to circumstances. Thla. ,
manner is good in a general history, ·the purpose o{ .1 1
which '. . il! to reford important transac tions: but in a /!;.
1
fali'te 1t is cold and uninteresting; because it is imprac- '
ticable to form distinct images of persons or things reptesented in· a manner so superficial.
·. .
It is observed above, that every useless circumstance
ought to be suppressed. The crowding such circum- . :;;
stances is, on the one harid, no less to be avoided, than
the con2iseness, for which Vortaire is blamed, on the
' ,,,. Barce, the nurse of Sicharns,
other.- ln >,tlr"e·~
wen . ···:nrbefor.e nor after, is introduced
fo~..~J\9.~ .
~'t important than to caU Anna to
her .s~ter
. hat it might not be thought unbfst l~I>t, . , . . ). · tnls.trivial circumstance, to preher1iusf:iand's nurse before her own, th e poet take~
care to inform his ireader, that Dido's nurse-was dead.
As an appendix to the foregoing rule, I add the following observation, That, to make a sudden and strong
impression, some single circumstance, happily selected,
has more power than the most - labored description. ,:•I

"whom

fer

1'

Lib. 4. 1. 632.

NARRATION AND DE!ClUPTION.

Macbeth, mentioning to his lady some voices he heard
while he was murdering the king, says-There 's one did laugh in 's sleep, and one cried Murder!
They wak'd each other; and I stood and heard them:
But they did say their prayers, and address them
·
Again to sleep.
Lady. There are two lodir'd together.
·
.Macbeth. One cried, Godoless us! and Amen the other;
As they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
Listemng their fear, I could not say Amen,·
·
When they did say, God bless us.
• '' . . ··
Lady. Consider it not so deeply.
,,
.Macbeth. But wherefore could not I pronounce A:m'.ent
I bad most need.of blessing, and Amen
·
Stuck in my throat.
·'
Lad!!· These deeds. must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad •
.Macbeth. Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth doth murder sleep! &c.
AcT II. Sc -·~

Alphonso, in the Mourning Bride, shut up in •tile
same prison where his father had been confined: ,•; .!~~
~ '•.'~~ 1
In a dark corner of my cell I found
This paper : what it is this light will show.
" If my .Alphonso"
Ha!
_ (.Read~.
1
\·.. If my .Alphonso live, restore him Heav'n;
,, .
·-'"' ' Give me more weight; crush my declining/
· ears
'"
With bolts, with cl:iains, imprisonment, an want'
·
. But bless my son, visit not him for me."
It is his hand : this was hia pray'r-Yet more:1' Le't ev'ry hair, which sorrow by the r.oota
(Reac:rvw,
Tea'n-froril my hoary and devoted·llead,- ·
·
"'
· Be. d~W~ ~ thy m41rcies to my, aon :
:
. ,,
Not for myself, but him, hear me, all-grac1ous"'Tis wantmg whaf should follow--Heav'n should follow,
But 'tis torn off-Why should that word alone
Be torn from his petition? 'Twas to Heav'n,
But Heav'n was deaf, Heav'n heard him not; but thus,
Thus as the name of Heav'n from tliis iii torn,
So did it tear the ears of mercy from
fl
His voice, shutting the gates of pray'r against him.
Ir piety he thus debarr'd access
On high, and of i!ood men the very best
Is singled out to llleed..i.Jllld bear the scourr,
What is reward? ·or, what ia punishment
But who shall dare to tax eternal justice? .
. • _
. Mo1JJ\lmrG Biuns.-Ac'l' III.~· 1.

This incident is a happy invention, .and.1;.a
uncommon genius

mark ol

····.

_1.Q~tj\jng.J>pnce ,!f,en_~ ; ... ,., ~

-'r,.: {

~/~~~~;..

:•

I saw young Har.ry, with bis beav ·rr on, · --.
; ,. ~J~ irujs~es on bis thig~s, gallantly a~'d,~ ·. •.
. : '.R15e fl)Jm the ground hke fe~ther'~ Mercury;
. ~· •
• :And vaulted with such ease 10to his seat,
. As if an angel dropt down from the clouds,
. To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
·
F1RsT PilT HENRY VI.-AcT IV Sc.!.
Ki~

Henry. Lord Cardinal, if thou think'st on Heayen'a
bl Ills,
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.He dies, and makes no sign !
SECOND P ART HENRY VI.-AcT III. Sc. IO
~

The same author, speaki.1g ludicrously of an army
M_itated with diseases, says.
. ..

H;uf of them dare not shake

the snow from oil' their cassocks,.
shake themselves to pieces.
r
:
, ••
••
I have seen the walls of Bafolutha:, but they were d~iate. -The(
11ame had resounded in the halls; and the voice '. of the people is ··
heard no more. The stream of Clutba was removed· from. its place
by the fall of the walls. · The thistll! shook there its lonely head: •
the moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the windows: and the rank g rass of the wall wav ed round bis head. Desolate is the dwelling of Morna: silence is in the house of ber fathers.
.
FINGAL.
~ttlij:f

To draw a: character is the master-stroke of descripIn this Tacitus excels; his portraits are natural_
and lively, not a feature wanting nor misplaced. Shakspeare, however, exceeds Tacitus in liveliness; .some
cl}~racteristical circumstance being generally invented,
or 'laid hold of, which paints more to the life than many".
words. The following instance will explain my mean- .
ing, and, at the same time, prove my observation to be' ,
just:
tion~

Why should a man, whose· blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Sleep when he wakes, ,and creep into the jaundice,
By being-peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,
(l love thee, and it is my love that speaks,)
Tbere are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
·
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion

.. i

Gi-atiaoo speaks an infinite deal of nothing, mo
in-all Venice; his reasons are like two grains of w
1
; and
bushels of chaff; you sl;iall seek all day ere you
..
when you have them, they are not worth the search: ·• ', 1.B~ ; ;:

In the following passage, a character i&' c~mp
..
·;
' '
.
. '. ... . ."'.,;,

"IJ>· _ by a single stroke:
~.

.

~

~

.""~

.·'

'

Shallow. 0 the mad days that I have spent; and lo_. see
~many of mine old ac uaintance are dead. cy,· • - ··
. >"
Silence. We sh
· !low, Cousin.
._
'/'• Shtillow. Cer ·.
rtai n, very sure. Death (as the·P·
ist saith) is cert
all shall die. How a goocl yoke
• ., · locks at Stamf<
..,.
'
·'l
S lender. Tru
, I was not there.
,.
Shallow. Death · ~ rtain. Js old Double of your town living
yet?
· Silence. Dead, Sir.
. ·, .
· ,~ '"
.
. • -Shallow ••Dead! see,. see·; he ·atew· a good bow : and dead. :.H-e
,,},, '. illot·a ·:ftne ~'hoot. ~ How a eeb11e ·of ,ewes iiow?
· ':·, · -,,
. ·, ... -: \- 'Sllenci: lfhefl:ifter as they .be. · A score of gOOd ewes ·m y be
_:,-. worth teli'pou'nda. ·
:
··' ·'
~·~'"SAallotD . .'.~ is old Vouble -dead ? .
·
• ·
;
~
·

'.£ . •

~' ·:

.....~ ._;,_~. " .SECO_ND. P_ART lJ..ENRY IV,-:AcT

<-. '

m ..,.sc. 3:;.-i

,· - · O>rigrev-e<has ·a n inimitable stroke of this kind ·mlris
-~~fomedy of ~Lo-oefor Lure ; : · ·
· -.~·
: ~ i.\i-'3Ben Legend. W ell, fattier', and how do all at home? bow' does
: ~~~el' Dick, and .brother Val?
.
"'..~. ~ir Samp6f!'I
. . Dick! body o' me, Dick has been dead these·two

~'.ti• 1~rs.

I w.nt you word when you ,,.ere at Leghorn.

'. ;;-"J_'lr ~"! Ben. Mess, that's true : marry, I l:lad fcirgot. Dick's dead, aa '
,~:: YOU say.
AcT ill. Sc. 6. •

J: Falstaff, speaking of ancient Pistol:

· He's no swaggerer, hostess: a tame· cheater, i' faith; you may
;troke him as gently as a puppy-greyhound·; he will not a.'l.Ugger
!.:?rith a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any aho.jr'Qr re..;_li•fance.
SEcoNt) f.Al!-T Hu:a:r IV.-A9T Jl...$c. 9•

.
.
·'··-- ···-- .......... ;,,~ ..~"'··~·~ . . .
: .Ossian, among his othet exc~llen~ie!jJ.:.: .mfoently
,,.~ccessful in drawing cbal'acters :· and"be never fails
·

. ~

u

•

•.

,

t~~
?~11f·
heiQes., ·, Tak
- ,?;.,.. ~.ll! ..~i

.

,. the
·- fo.

'. ~\~e:~a1I~~f~l,J:lttitli~eat~ftii

wmg )JiStances
:.- .
,. ..

.

!

-

G 0 ¢ 1'r·l bend -the strong in arm ~7 but spa~ ¥t .
tile hand.
Be'.tfui_Jf' I). stream of many tides agajnst the foes or,. Y peo~.e;
bU'tJik~.th13 :gale that moves ~~ rass to those who as . thtne ~ ·
~SO Tremor lived; such Trathiil was; and such has Fmgal been.
My arm~,vas the support of the ·injured; and the weak rested behind the 'lig,htning of my steel.
'

yr e heart ihe voice of JOY on the coast, a~d we thought that the
mighty Cathmore came. Ca th more, the friend of strangers!
brother of red-haired Cairbar. But their souls were not the sani\i;
for the light of heaven was in the bosom of Cathmore. His tow.
., ei:s. rose on the banks of Atha; seven paths led to his halls:· seyen
''.c~& stood on these paths, and called ~he stra~ger to th~ feas~
'
- qathmore dwelt in the wood to avoid the voice of praise. _.,,.:,;
ermid ·and osoai. were one : they
the battle toge ' .
r friendship waa 'Strong as their stee : and dcat4 .walked
them to the field. They rush on ·
· · e'tWo~rticks .
· .t:he brow of Ardven. Theirs
. · _.. ;o .
.
the valiant: . warriors faint ·at
~bo _is .
to Oscar but Dermid? Who to Dermi
. ~. ~· '. ~,;i!_: ,,.
-Son. of, Comhal, replied the chief, the A
· A\Iorili~1c~·
bas failed. · I attempt to draw the sword o my youth, but it remains in its place: I throw the spear, bot it falls shortofthe mark:t
and I feel the weight of my shield. We decay like the grass of
the_.ffi!>untain, and our strength returns no more. I have a son, 0
Finl(fil ! his soul has delighted in the actions of Morni'. s youth ;
but 'his sword has not been fitted against the foe, neither has his
fame begun. I come with him to battle, to _d irect his arm. His · '·
reoowp will be a sun to my soul in the dark hour Of my departure. 0 that the name of Morni were forgot among the people!
that the heroes would only say, "Behold the father of Gau.I.''

-th•

reared

.. Some writers, through heat of imagination, fall into
contradiction; some are guilty of downright absurdi~.
ties; and some.even rave like' madmen. Again~t such
capital errors; on~ ·cannot be more effectually warned
than by ·collec_ting instances.
·'

When first young Maro, in his boundless mind,
A work t' outlast immortal Rome design'd.
EssAY ON CRITICISM,

J. 130.

The following are examples of absurdities :
He fled; but flying left his life behind.

~LI.A.D,

xi. 433

Full through his neck the weighty falch.ion ~ped; _ .
Along the•pavement roll'd the muttering bead.
·
ODYSSEY; xxii. 365.

·, _
, .
, s
.,

Reasons that are _com.;mm and known t
_ oµgh ·.. be t~ep~fy:r~:gtanted; to express·t
ifti -··- · ·te - ,..... · ··e::narration. .
~· : ~~
t' obServations occ
;.·.·€~pressed, I proee
llie lang1:1age or V.
..
. . or·,.,expressing I! .
·
in a fotln.
,a)lfef, several obse
, ~11~.ai'e applic'aBte.-to fhe present subjec\
,'11
, ft~at as words ar~ intimately connected._
•.
l bey represent, the emc;Jtions raised by tli~ .
·ab' y· the' .sense; ought' to be concoraant -An·eleval1d
-~uhjec . equir~~ · ~n elhat~d :·styl; ; what'is. faIDili~r,
oiJght: to be Jami:liai:l1 -expressed ; a subjec.t tb;iHne,..
rici .~ . an? irefoKa'JJ, - ~~~(!~ b~ .CIC>!?~ 1ri'p1a_!~ ~~t
you~ ~~;;; ·a1iteS:Cl'~ptJon,. on, 4he Qther :band;~ itd... •
·~res~eil to tll~~gin~ti'o~, i8 '8u6ceplible of .the 'hig~est
· ?.W~ments ffiat sound1% w~r_ds and figurative expres!lon can bestow upon it. .
·
": I sh~1 give a few e~amples of the foregoing rules.
A poet of any genius is not apt to dress' a high subj~~~
in low ·words; and yet blemishes of that kind are found
even in classical wofks ·:
•

)>'

•

..

,. ·

.

,

'h.

.....

; •

1 ~

-'--

Not one looltS backin.rd, onward still he goes,
Yet ne'er look~ forward furt~r than bis nose.

~

, • :-: :

123.'
1
';:».~ ,:Qn the other hand;\g riiise tfie ·exp;ess QB ~bOve 'the
. •\ ~nc of the subject' is --8:'fau.lt t.h~n. wbicb~bothing is
, }llore common. . Take the' following instances:
... c-~

.

.

•

'.

',' · .... _ ' Ess.AY
. ..

.

ON

MAN, Ep:i-r.
.,

~

-;., . , j

....I', -~

11ge 'o f Home(·~ .
. .
'-sentime
.tely than· tbe ac '". "
•to their characters: :... rgi'l, 'in that
.
· short of perfection: his la nguage is
.
throughout; and though he descends at tim es to · the
simplest branches of cookery, roasting..and boiling, for
example, yet he never relaxes a rpQmenffropi Jhe high
tone..~ In 3:djusting his language to his subj.~. ~!· no wr!ter
equals Swift. I can recollec.t but one exc~Ht10p , which,
at the same time, is far from being gro~s: ,1f'he Journal
of a Modem Lady is composed in a style :blending
sprightliness with familiarity, perfectly suited to the
subj ect: in one passage, however, the poet, deviating
from .that style, takes a tone above his subj ect. The
passage I have in view, begins l. 11 6, But let me now
awhile survey, &c. and ends at l. 135.
It is proper to be observed upon this head, that writers of inferior rank are continually upon the stretch
to enliven and enforce their subject by exagge ration
and superlatives. This unluckily has a n effect confrary to what is ·~ntended; the reader, disgustea with

*

See Eneid, Jib. i. J88-219.

.
~:;;
: •.
I!,

:Ill;

; .
!.

I·

'·

I:
·~'!
~i

,
t.:;

~r~

". ·:.,..,
2"'I

.

· ~~r5..... /;·._. ">:>t: ~

, ·;- :. , .. :~..

• ,, ,"i!•.
.- . .
l.')tEM!'~t! 0~Jl'.::Qli'lTIOlilli. \;,~' ·· .

·.·irr\tM·t~'g.tteiwri:tih~ii\ltfi ~ohditio1:i <oi the spea,
.
chie:fit·t.O:pe r~garded in framing· tbe:·.~xpre~siQn: t
seil.Htt!Sf.:fn Hamlet, inter rogated ·"'.ith. !ela.ho~ to ~ ,
ghost, ·Whether his watch had been 'quie.t 1, atJ~. ~«;.
with great propriety for a man in his stati_olfl):.it ·
·
- .. ~· ff.;~.
rriouse stirring."*
I proceed to a second remark, no less irnportanl.
· the former. No person of reflection but' must be"t
sible, that ·an incide11t makes a stronger-. impression,
a n eye-witness than when hearu at se~d-handi~~
Writers of genius, .sensible that the · eye ·is theJi~
avenue to the heart, represent: every thing as pasSj:rj~;:' . in our sight; . and, from reader.s or hearers;· transfi •· · · ··
. llS, as it. wer~. in to speetators : a sltilfol. ~liti!f tone
himself, ·and presen.ts hiS. p~rsonages; -in"a:::Word1; ~ .
thing becomes drarnatic as much aspossible:: ' Ph:i:~·
observes; .: that Th 11cydi~s makes hiS -f.~adei:-. a'· sp ~· .· ,,
tat9~, and inspire8 him with t_
h e same passions as'. 'i,{(
he -were an eye.witness; and the same observation
is 'a pplicable ' to our countryman Swift. ' From this
JlaP.:PY tal~nt arises that . energy . o( · le , which is
peetillar -,fo hi~;, ,he. ~ntj_?t : al~a;~s
. ~~ration ;
blit .'the , pencil ,J.S hi;i; cJ'io~seJ_.l)y -~
:.bestows
:.and coloring u~::nl&-tobjec
.js. richer : ·
0 irl: - ~nam'ent, but ~pos8e5sefh. not in- , .
. degree. ,tp,~.,"~lenJ _:o(;dra::wi)ag, from the iif~: • ·-~ i"anslation
• !~}:tb€l~}li~f~##tir~O;!~( H9i'Ji:~e. ·l?egun: 1>.Y t.h e ,. former
;aud:timshed by-th:e::.latter, aifurds''. the ,fa~rest .o pportu'".
: :nity for a compariso'n~ ,., Pope ·obvfously imitates th!il
pict!lresque· manner of •bis friend; yet .every one of
tasf.e' ·m ust be sensible, that the imitation,, though fi_n e,;.
falls 1 short of ·the original. 1n other in.s tances, where .

on;:

life

•

•

*

0.n!i: catf-.:ac~rce av.oid smiling at the blindness of a certain ·
critic,.- who~ Witt, an air of self·sutliciincy, conde!l}ns this expre5~ :
sioo as low and. V1!lgar. A Fren<?h .poe.t. S?-Y~ be1 !f:~d ex~ress
__'_ .

_the same· thought in .a !llore, ~u_bhme
__. . .• .
·" et.1'armee, et' l~ Vfll)l!l,-e.bNS!~ll•~ ;;-;c,
. gh~h,, poet . may ~~ ·:at Lojil~JI . ~

else.

.-i:z·: ~~ ·'f PJ'.S1~~

·

.1ua1s .t~t _:Jfor4,

, " '711~ . En•.
;et~rywhere.

r..,~,. l:/y}~'f:; .'

236"
, Witli thee Col'.\Versing I.forget all time :
A.1l seasons and .their diange, aU please alike. :
Sweet--is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds .; pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herbs, tree, fruit,_ and tlow'r, _
Glist'ning with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild, and silent night
.
·with this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, ·

~?i~~~~~~~r}~~~~f~~I;~n, "·.• ·_=,.-~•·~\_.-:• ~ ~1
.• ;:--~-

.. . ....:.•_.,:.:_._:._·

Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night,
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon
Or glitt'ring starlight, without tliee is swee.t. ..; , · '... ·
. · ·.
P AAA.n1sli: LosT.-Boox'. IY.. l

:1ri·

f' I'

~e~het~:p~i:~~?~;n0~0.ri:~h~~~~~~~: fr~~~~-

..

were at a loss about the reason, might efot ' ~ste":}J~\~
sufficient to j~stify them 1_At the sa1!1e tini?, "we'afr~1t~, · r
no.Jo~~ about the reason; they eYidently make Jhe ·;_, ! 11I
~arration dramatic, and have an air of truth, by
making things appear as passing in our sight. Bu( ' l
such repetitio~s are unpardona-ble i? a did·,~. c. tic poe. m_._~·· · . · . (
In one of Hes10d's poems of that kmd, a long passagi:L , ·
occurs .t wice in the sari\e 'chapter.
- : )'. ,_, , · "~ "'· •· i
. A conCi~e comprehetifilve. style is a great J~1~rrient;;-· 11
~ _ narra~on ;_and superfhuty ~f unnece~ry:· }Y,Qrds; /, ll~I
no less 1han of circtimst£1.ilces, a great nfi1saneef '·'A .. / ·111
judicious selection o_f the ~~-r~lfi~~,ci:rcu~statjce~j· clot~~~('- : ]F
m a nervous ~tyle, is ~elightful. I _n. this sty_l.e,Tac1~~~_·;. ,.1
excels all wnters ancient a'nd modern. ··
l1I
After Tacitus, Ossian_in that J'.espect justly m~ritS I;i;,
the ,place of distinction. _ -One cannot g~ \Vrong ' for , .:r
examples in any part of the book ; and :at the ,first · ·
opening the following instance meets_t~~J~ye ~ / '. .;

li i
1

1

·; -

·,

•

·

~atpos c1pthtld hi~ limbs . in shinin~ steel. :::T~~)!fid{pf~e
love}j' ; the ;oy. of his ey~ ternb~e. . TJ:ie i.-.
. ·J.I,l
bik, hair. Cartbnla 1s silent at his side~ .her 'Ioli~' JS .
"ftl(!'.'
chief. Striving to bide the rising sigh, two teaJ1ii;~.
~ye.:'._
c~~ef

:s

•

.

• 11: ,, _;,;, .,.,,,

-

,_ ,

(I'·

. L·

.. ~ .;.,;:
11~\

· nf.1:

'IJ J,1,
ll

~i~

;i:
~
,,,. .

...

'

i:i;E.MEN"Ts
.

·;or :oamots••
i;.

I

I

:.; : ~sil!!nt. fe1;mtains; from a ~kts'tall bead,
· ·-id!' ;., _
· '. J~ra
..bl~ ~trea~ .5Qft n:!cl:tling waters sbecl.
· :1~ · ·
' .f. · · · · ·
·' ·
'
Ism. 1x. 19.
~F
.·J.·le--4j\~'
'
.~i:a clanging armor rung. .
IBm. xii. 94. .~.·.~:W
~:_,.:· ;;~
Fear on their cheek, and horror in their eye.
. "'
·
Is10; xv. ~·'. .. · ·• •,•·:

...

. .·

.

"

•..i("

·"~::-:7~.: .:,.:_

The blaze of armor dash'd against the day.
· .•:: , ,~ : \:..' :•.' '
lam. xvii. 13~,"' '' ' · :· ..
· '·_.-: ·'7 ;. .

As .w hen the piercing blasts of Boreas blow.
. . ..

5

.

~ '1. . .

~~'.J~F; ·

IBID. XIX: ;AAJ~'{~~

.

And like.the moon, the broad refulgent shield
.-~~-;:; f
Bla:z'd with Jong rays, and gleam'd athwart the field.
. ,·,.•
Ism xix. 402• .- '.'::·: . .
'.'_.1 ~
.:.
'.
'
.
~ ,,
.
.)~~: ' No-:rCould OU~ ~wif!h65$ o'er the, winda prevail, ·;· '
•~)!•.
·'·>kP! Qeat·~e· p~w~ of the :western.gale,
: .
;
' '.: ~ -wer.Qcln ~a.in.., . _ . .. . _, . . IllJ?· ~~60.• . . ,'{ ~
; 'rbe ·bumi1f.sweatfrom ev' ey
descends. ! - •. , A'< ;/
. · · i· :· • •
·
···:"
· · ·- · ·
• .-.
bin.
829• •..,, .,

,;e.:

·pore

·xxm.

'. Red~ndant ~~ith~tS: s~~h a.s .humidi~"~the' last:ci't;;

tion, are by .Q\_\1~t0ian- 'disallowed to orators; ·bu t in~.
dulged to poe ts ; ~ b'eeause his favorite poets, in a few
in~tances, are reduced to such epithets for the sake ol
r~r~!fis~t~on~

, ·' ' . . . ,

.

. ' S..s all' apo1ogy· fo1 suc_h . careless . express'ioo's, it may '

i,,

well 'suffice, that.Pope, in submitt~ng. to be<:\- translator, ·
acts belqw his genius. In .a translation, it is .ha.rd to ·
· requ~r~ the same spirit of accuracy;th<\fls . che~~fully
: i!est~w,M o~ an original work. •'·. ·", : · . · ·; \ · .:, .
/ .J .dose this chapter with a curious inquiry. · A11 oo.
jed, powever ugly to the sight,·is far from being so
whetqepresented by c,olors or by words. What is the
caus~ of this difference? With respect to painting, ~h.e
. cause -is obvious: a good picture, whatever the su9Ject
· be,-i s agreeable by the pleasure we take in imitation ;
·· and this pleasure, overbalancing the pi.sagreeableness
of the subject_, makes the picture .UJ??D· the ~hole
t tagreeable. · With respect to-the descnphon' o( aQ. ugLy.. _
''-object, th~ cause follows. To connec.J; W,_qi. ,_ als<ili · ·
the social state, no particular contributes :,,.rp~re . -ban
.J~?guage ~ by the power it possesses of an expeditious
~

..-1;"'

;

.~iiZl~i~~:ti~;::.
,>·~ ··'·1~~:!:/ ~. ~~

·,.:

~

'

240 'My

;,-

ii' •"""''l ~'
~;,,,
~,, ~"'~~;t~:f~~-~· · ·...
. ErlmtENTS 'OP ."~~ ; ·~,_. ;
1

...

~~ orgeou.s pala~~ fo~. a: ~;!it~e ~

:. .

,

.

lt' \._~

c-;My gay apparel for an alms man's gown;

- .· . My figur'd -goblets for ,a dish of woOd;
My sce{>tre for a .pa~er'a WaµOng ..~tatf'; ·~; ~'
""}4".MY subjects for a pair .of carved saints;
:'l And rpy large kingdom for a little grave;
A little, little ~rav~ ;--ai;i obsc';Jre grave.
. _,
·
O r, l 'll be buried 1n the kmg's highway ;
if ,
Some way of commou tread, where sub).ects' feet
.
May hourly trample on their soverei~n s head;
;
For on my heart they tread now, whilst I live;
,
And , buried once, why not upon my bead?
;
..
·
RrcHARD II.-AcT III. Sc.-6.
t;~>

,Objects that strike terror in a spectator have)~-·
poetry and painting a fine effect. . The picture •.
hi$i~g .a _slight · e.~otion of t~rror, ~tes 'the· m!ll~: _
~nij i~ that cond1bon ,every he:iuty roak~s a deep i~~­
press1on. May not ·cqn.t rast heighten the plea;gur~;· by
. ,. opposing o_u r pre~en! i security . • to the aange'r of e'i1-'
.countering the obj~h;epresented 1 ,,,.< ":· , .•_ :~,'·

thf

.

.

. .

,.;; :fie'.~~ sb;pe,

..

'"

.

. ;,.

" •
. If Shape i t:!ibight~'C~'d , that shape had none
. D is.tingqishabfe In .me{ober, joint, or limb;
.:,:; Or .su bst~4~e mig ~ b.~!q n:d th_at shadow s~'d,
,, · .·For eacli 'll'e em'dck 1t stood as mgh.t,
~ Fierce 4-f~"ji'iflir
~ as bell,
·
And shook '~"~'. .
-

....._,_

..:

Now storming fury r
mor such as heard in heaveµ ;
er.: arms on armor clashii&.'
: · " ord, and the madding wh
· ariots rag'd; dire was then
overhead the dismal hiss
s i.p--Bamin~ volleys flew, .
alilte.d
_ ~f'.it!!ii;:host wiht?dfire.

,
: oopJ:l . ~rrus
Bot
es•ftiain ; witli7 uinous assault
And inextirigµisbable rage : all heaven
Resounded ; :i.n"d had earth been then, all earth
H ad to her centre shook.
"
~
P ARA.D} SE LosT.-Boo.e: VL L 2Q7.
!;"~:,.

. .•

Ghost.
But. U,ni.lllliam r.
ft, : ",,: ... J:o.tell the secrets c;f my ~~-hous _ _
;"}.f :
I {:ould .a tale unfol_d , wh ~11fghtest wol'ii
..('.':·
Would narrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

24i

.

;{, AcT
•• ·

•

-~~

r. Sc .g
i.
-b-t".f

ad thy father's ~-=···
re grief
•·
Shore
read ·
e Jive'now,
·
&perate turn ;
This sighf .ivould make "bi
·Yea, cu- hiSrbetter angel from his side,
0THELLo."ia'AcT V. S ~
And fallt~.~robation.

',....

.,.

.

·O!:>jects of' horror m~t. be excepte from the fore. theory; for nh~escription, however, lively, is
c1ent .to overbalance the disgust rais_e<f ~yen by
~- idea of such objects. Every thing horrible ought
therefore to be avoided in a description. Nor is this a
severe law: the poet will avoid such scenes for his •
own sake, as well as for that of his "remler; ·and · td.'
vary his descriptions, nature affords plenty of objects
that disgust us in some degree without... r_aising horror.
I am obliged, therefore, to condemn ~ th~. pictUre of
Sin in the second book of P.a;:,~e},ost,_ t~~\b-~:~.s­
perly.,. performance : t~ or1g1n~.~-":.?u:lq,;~~ a · pomd
spectade ; and:_t~e horror i_s ~_ctmU:c~. ~tfened in tlJe
£o)!go's ch:°il~ier.~ln the t.ra~~dy of Othelio, is i~shfferably monstrous a.nd satamcal: not even Shakspeare's
. masterly hand can make the picture agreeable.
REVIEW.
What is the first rule m the composition of history?-what art
the reasons for it?
What is the second rule ?-what are the reasons .for it ?
What is the effect of straining to make a figure at first?
How should the first sentences of a work be?
·
• ·'What is the third rule?
· -What is the fourth rule ? .
In what does the force of language consist?
· •
What should the narrative in·an epic poem resemblet. ~"
· Give examples.
. ~- -.·.
,
,"
_. What is the criticism on Volt;i.ir~'s Henriade? ...
.How should circumstances be dispO&ed of?·
.;
What is the effect of a well-chosen circumstance >

v

•

Give
, .W batwr
"lGiveexa·
,,,Give exam
~ers fall in
.'.Bli_qhld commor,i
1·I:W;ll~t sort of st
,
fUJ>ject ?-a serio s su
What exampl is
woris ?-of expression
,,
What is the qpmmon error
.~hat is its effect?
qite an examp)e. .
What is the rei(tark made on these lines ?
·
How is slow ac;tion imitated ?-how js labor?
·what is to be.re~rded in dial ·- · 'tin~? .. , .
-' '"' How does an mc1dent make the
est 1mpress10n? ,·
\,,,JI'ow·dQ, writers of genuine taste
e advantage of this
• ' 'Give· examples. . · . " · , ·
When are repetitiqns allowable?
Giye examples. ,, :' - . •
.
· Ho.w are Hoqier's repetitionsjustified'?
Wliat i8 observed t!f a concise sfyle?
What writeni ex1lefin it? '
Gi've examples from 'Ossian.
What is observed of tautology·?
What writer is sometimes guilty of it?
Why is the picture of an ugly object agreeable?
_
W;!iY .!W
.~
-~ the descrip
. tion of .a disagreeable object be agreeable?
G1vll ei mples. .
.
How ma an object that strikes terror iil the spectator, have a
fine effect m poetry '11.nd painting?
Are objects of horror proper for description?
.Why not?

CHAPTER xxn.
EJ1i.c and' .Dramatic Composi.tions.
TRAGEDY differs not from epic in substance : in both
the same ends are pursued, namely, instruction and
amusement; and in both the same mean is employed,
namely, imitation of human actions. They differ only
in the manner of imitating; epic poetry employs narration; tragedy represents its facts as passing in our

