A Full Enquiry into the Nature of the Pastoral (1717)

by Thomas Purney

CHAP. IV.

How to form the Pastoral Characters, and the great Difficulty of doing it.

A Poet, who would write up to the Perfection of Pastoral, will find nothing more difficult (unless the Dialect) than the inventing a sufficient Number of Pastoral Characters; such as are both faultless and beautiful. That difficulty proceeds from hence.

In Epick and Tragick Poetry we have the whole scope of all Men's Tempers and Passions to draw; which are widely various and different: As, the Savage and Wild; the Ambitious; the Simple and Tender-hearted; the Subtle, &c. Thus in the Epick and Tragick Poems, you draw the general Qualities of all Men's Minds. But in Pastoral, you are pinn'd down to one of these common qualities (which is Simplicity and Tenderness.) And laying that as a Foundation, from thence draw your particular Characters. In every Character still supposing that at the bottom of it, and to accompany it. But Rules of this Nature, are like Mathematical Assertions, not easily explain'd, but by Examples. Tho' I think, Cubbin, I need not insist long on this to you; for your Characters are not much faulty in this particular. If I remember aright; some of your Characters are these:

Paplet has Simplicity and Tenderness: But her distinguishing Character is, that she is a May, so young, as to be entirely ignorant of Love; but extreamly Curious to be let into the Nature of Men and Lovers.

Collikin has Simplicity and Tenderness: But withal a Tincture of
Inconstancy in his Nature.

Soflin, with her Simplicity and Tenderness, is excessive Easy, and
Complying, to a Fault; open and too free-hearted.

Florey has Simplicity; and Tenderness for his Lass; but he is almost out of Humour with himself for being so soft. He is suppos'd to be brought up in the lonely Cave with Paplet; and his natural Tamper is wild and excessive brisk; hating the House, and delighting in Hunting. But you show, I see, only a Glimpse of his Natural Temper, which breaks out at times; but he is drawn as tender, being all the Time in Love with Poppit.

The rest of your Characters have the same Foundation; nor break in, I think, upon Simplicity and Tenderness.

'Tis true indeed, as to the Difficulty of forming Pastoral Characters, beyond those of Epick Poetry; That even there, one general Character should diffuse it self thro' all the rest, and that is Bravery. (For Homer might, I think, as well have brought in a Baboon, or a Hedge-hog, for Heroick Characters, as a Vulcan and a Thirsites.) But Bravery will coincide with greatly more Tempers than Pastoral Simplicity and Tenderness; nor does it lay the Poet under a Restraint comparably so great.

'Tis farther observable, as to the Difficulty of forming the Pastoral Characters, that if we wou'd write up to the Perfection of Pastoral, 'tis necessary that whatever habit or temper of Mind distinguishes any CHARACTER in the first Pastoral, wherever that CHARACTER afterwards appears, thro' the whole set of Pastorals, it must appear with the same Temper as before; that is, 'tis not enough to have the Characters uniform and just thro' one and the same Pastoral, but what is the Character of any Swain or Lass in the first and second Pastoral, that must be their Character in all the rest, if they are nam'd or introduc'd, tho' never so slightly. For by this means, not only every single Pastoral will make a regular Piece, but the whole set of Pastorals also constitute together one uniform and ample Poem; if the Reader delights to fill his Mind with a large and ample Scheme.

The set of Pastorals would be still more perfect, if the Characters were also all continued on from the first to the last Pastoral, and none drop'd, as 'twere, in silence; but in the Pastorals which draw towards the End, the Characters should be all disposed of in Pastoral, and after an entertaining Manner; so that the two or three last Pastorals will be like the fifth Act in a Tragedy, where the Catastrophe is drawn up. The reasonableness of this appear's from hence. I suppose the Poet to form his Story so, and so to draw his Characters, that the Reader's Mind may be engag'd and concern'd for the Personages. Now the Mind is uneasy if 'tis not let into the issue of the Affairs of the Person it has been long Intent upon, and given to know whether he is finally Unfortunate, or Happy.

SECT. Last.

Thus far proceeded Sophy, when Night drew on. He shut his Book; and Cubbin told him, he had not pass'd many days with so much Delight as that. If you have found my Discourse, said Sophy, entertaining, do not fail of being here again early to morrow Morning, and I will continue it to you. The Shepherd express'd his Satisfaction, and they hasted home together.

The following Morn was fair and inviting; they both appear'd when the
Lark began his Mattin Song; and Sophy thus proceeded.

The End of the Second Part.

P A R T III.

CHAP. I.

Of the Sentiments in general.

I must crave leave to extend the Signification of the Word Sentiment, to the including tooth IMAGE and THOUGHT. For I think the Criticks should by all means have, before now, made that Division, and the omission has occasion'd the greatest Obscurity and Confusion in the Writings of those who have discours'd on any particular Kind of Sentiment. But that the Reader may take the more Care to keep this Distinction in his Head, we will give one Instance of the Confusion it occasion'd in the Mind of Longinus, who treated the Sublime, and certainly ought to have had a clear Notion of the Subject he wrote so largely, and so floridly upon.

Now in his sixth Section, he make's it a Question, and discourses largely, whether Passion can go along with a Sublime SENTIMENT. But any one who has divided Sentiment into Image and Thought would laugh at this Question; it being so plain that passion is consistent with a Sublime Thought, and is not with a Sublime Image.

Would not any person who desired to acquire a true and thorough Notion of a sublime Sentiment, so as to know one, wherever met, be puzzled at Longinus's telling him, Homer's Sentiment is sublime, where he make's the Giant's heap Ossa on Olympus, and on Ossa Wood-top'd Pelion; and a little after telling him that Alexander's to Parmeno is a sublime Sentiment. Parmeno say's, Were I Alexander, I would embrace these Proposals of Peace. Alexander reply'd, And I, by the Gods, were I Parmeno. These Sentiments of Homer and Alexander (tho' equally sublime) are as different as a Bright and a Tender Sentiment. If then I have settled one in my Mind, as sublime, How shall I conceive the other as such?

But there is no other way of avoiding this Confusion, and of being equally certain of all sublime Sentiments, but by knowing that the first of these is a sublime Image, and the last a sublime Thought or Sentiment. And you will find, if you consider the Nature of Homer's Image, all sublime Images are like it; and the same of Alexander's sublime Thought. Altho' the sublime Sentiments in general are so different.

But since we are accidentally engag'd in considering the Sublime; I will endeavour to show you how to judge infallibly of a Sublime SENTIMENT. For I think it cannot be gotten from Longinus; or at least, I could never learn it from that most Florid and Ingenious author. And it may be shown in three Lines, as well as in so many Volumes.

A Sublime Image always dilate's and widen's the Mind, and put's it upon the Stretch. It comprehends somewhat almost too big for it's Reach; and where the Mind is most stretch'd, the Image is most Sublime; if we consider no foreign Assistances. As Homer say's, The Horses of the Gods, sprung as far at every Stride, as a Man can see who sit's upon the Sea-shore. But foreign Assistances, as a figurative Turn, &c. may raise a passage to an equal degree of Sublimity, which yet does not so largely dilate the Mind; as this of Shakespear's is more Sublime than that of Homer's.

—Heaven's Cherubs, hors'd Upon the sightless Curriers of the Air, Shall blow the horrid Deed in every Eye.

Macbeth. Act. 1. Scen. 7

The not having a perfect Idea of the Sentiment, make's us conceive something the greater of it.

A Sublime Thought always gives us a greater and more noble Conception of either the Person speaking; the Person spoken of; or, the Thing spoken of. I need not instance; but if you apply this to any of the Thoughts of Homer, or Shakespear, generally call'd Sublime, you'll find it will always square.

Here let me make one Observation: That you may never be mistaken in judging of a Sublime Passage, Cubbin, take notice; that there are some Thoughts so much imaged in the Turn that is given to 'em, by the figurative Expression, that they lose the name of Thoughts, and commence Images. I will mention one out of Shakespear, (who uses this Method the most of any Author, and 'tis almost the only thing that raises his Language) I will mention it, because, being in it self a low and common Sentiment, he has made it the most Sublime, I think, of any he has. Macbeth's Lady say's, before the Murther of the King.

—Come, thick Night.
And pall thee in the dunnest Smoak of Hell,
That my keen Knife see not the Wound it makes
Nor Heav'n peep thro' the Blanket of the Dark,
To cry, Hold! Hold!

Macbeth Act. 1. Scen. 5.

But I run the Digression too far.