raising a slight emotion of terror, agitates the mind; and in that condition every beauty makes a deep impression. May not contrast heighten the pleasure, by opposing our present security to the danger of encountering the object represented? -The other shape, If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, And shook a dreadful dart. Paradise Lost, b. ii. 1. 666. -Now storming fury ruse, And clamour such as heard in heaven 'ill now Ghost Paradise Lost, book vi. 1. 207. -But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : Gratiano. Poor Desdemona! Thy match was mortal to him; Shore his old thread in twain. VOL. II. 34 Hamlet, Act I. Sc. 8. I'm glad thy father's dead; and pure grief Did he live now, This sight would make him do a desperate turn: Othello, Act V. Sc. 8. Objects of horror must be expected from the foregoing theory; for no description, however lively, is sufficient to overbalance the disgust raised even by the 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 reader; and to vary his descriptions, nature affords plenty of objects that disgust us in some degree without raising horror. I am obliged therefore to condemn the picture of Sin in the second book of Paradise Lost, though a masterly performance: the original would be a horrid spectacle; and the horror is not much softened in the copy: -Pensive here I sat Alone; but long I sat not, till my womb, Afresh with conscious terrors vex me round, Grim Death, my son and foe, who sets them on, Book ii. 1. 777. Jago's character in the tragedy of Othello, is insufferably monstrous and satanical: not even Shakspear's masterly hand can make the picture agreeable. Though the objects introduced in the following scenes are not altogether so horrible as Sin is in Milton's description; yet with every person of delicacy, disgust will be the prevailing emotion: Strophades Graio stant nomine dicta Insulæ Ionio in magno ; quas dira Celano, Huc ubi delati portus intravimus: ecce Læta boum passim campis armenta videmus, Eneid, lib. iii. 210. Sum patria ex Ithaca, comes infelicis Ulyssei, Immemores socii vasto Cyclopis in antro Eneid, lib. iii. 619. 271 CHAPTER XXII. Epic and Dramatic Composition. TRAGEDY differs not from the 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 sight: in the former, the poet introduces himself as an historian; in the latter, he presents his actors, and never himself.* This difference regarding form only, may be thought slight but the effects it occasions, are by no means so; for what we see makes a deeper im t *The dialogue in a dramatic composition distinguishes it so clearly from other compositions, that no writer has thought it necessary to search for any other distinguishing mark. But much useless labour has been bestowed, to distinguish an epic poem by some peculiar mark. Bossu defines it to be, "A composition in verse, intended to form the manners by instructions disguised under the allegories of an important action;" which excludes every epic poem founded upon real facts, and perhaps includes several of Esop's fables. Voltaire reckons verse so essential, as for that single reason to exclude the adventures of Telemachus. See his Essay upon Epic PoetryOthers, affected with substance more than with form, hesitate not to pronounce that poem to be cpic.-It is not a little diverting to see so many profound crities hunting for what is not: they take for granted, without the least foundation, that there must be some precise criterion to distinguish epic poetry from every other species of writing. Literary compositions run into each other, precisely like colours: in their strong tints they are easily distinguished; but are susceptible of so much variety, and of so many different forms, that we never can say where one species ends and another beginsAs to the general taste, there is little reason to doubt, that a work where heroic actions are related in an elevated style, will, without further requisite, be deemed an epic poem. |