To illustrate what is meant, let us take a book which every one who makes such an attempt as this must mention with the utmost gratitude and respect, the admirable Essai sur l'Histoire de la Critique chez les Grecs[[3]] of the late M. Egger. That excellent scholar and most agreeable writer was perhaps as free from “hariolation” as any one who has ever dealt with classical subjects; yet the first ninety pages of his book are practically in the air. The judges of rhapsodical competitions were the first critics; the Homeric edition of Pisistratus presupposes and implies criticism, which is equally—which is even more—presupposed and implied in the choragic system of Athens, whereby plots were chosen for performance; there are known to have been successive and corrected versions of plays, from which the same conclusions may be drawn. We are told, and can readily believe, that the actors had their parts suited to them, and this means criticism. Nay, was not the |Illustration from M. Egger.| whole Comedy, the Old Comedy at least, a criticism, and often a purely literary one? Is not the Frogs, in particular, a dramatised “review” of the most slashing kind? And have we not even the titles, at least, of regular treatises, presumably critical, by Pratinas, by Lasus, by the great Sophocles himself?
Now all this is probable; nearly all of it is interesting, and some of it is, so far as it goes, certain. But then as a certainty it goes such a very little way! M. Egger himself, with the frankness which the scholar ought to have, but has not always, admits the justice of the reproach of one of his critics, that part of it is conjecture. It would scarcely be harsh to say that all of it is, in so far as any solid information as to the critical habits of the Greeks is furnished by it. In the pages that follow at least a steady effort will be made to discard the conjectural altogether, and to reduce even the amount of superstructure on |The Documents.| second-hand foundations to the minimum. The extant written word, as it is the sole basis of all sound criticism in regard to particulars, so it is the only sound basis for the history of Criticism in general. The enormous losses which we have suffered in this department of Greek literature, and the scanty supply which, except in the department of the Lower Rhetoric, seems to be all that existed in Latin, may appear to make the effort to conduct inquiry in this way a rash or a barren one; but the present writer at least is convinced that no effort can usefully be made in any other. And after |Greek.| all, though so much is lost, much remains. In point of tendency we can ask for nothing better than Plato, provoking and elusive as he may seem in individual utterances; in point of particular expression and indication of general lines, the Rhetoric and the Poetics of Aristotle are admittedly priceless; and such writers as Dionysius of Halicarnassus, as Plutarch, as Dion Chrysostom, as Lucian, and above all as Longinus, leave us very little reason to complain, even when we turn from the comparative scantiness of this corpus to the comparative wealth of arid rhetorical term-splitting which still remains to us.
Nor is it at all probable that if we had more Latin literary criticism we should be so very much better off. For, once more,|Roman.| the existing work of such men as Cicero, Quintilian, Tacitus, and above all Horace, with the literary allusions of the later satirists, not to mention for the present the gossip of Aulus Gellius and the like, gives more than sufficient “tell-tales.” We can see the nature and the limitations of Roman criticism in these as well as if they filled a library.
In the great stretch of time—some thousand years—between the decadence of the pure Classics and the appearance of the |Mediæval.| Renaissance it is not the loss but the absence of material that is the inconvenience, and this inconvenience is again tolerable. The opinions of the Dark and Early Middle Ages on the Classics themselves are only a curiosity; for real criticism or matured judgment on existing work in the vernacular they had little opportunity even in a single language, for comparative work still less. Only the astonishing and strangely undervalued tractate of Dante remains to show us what might have been done; the rest is curious merely.
But the Renaissance has no sooner come than our difficulties assume a different form, and increase as we approach our |Renaissance and Modern.| own times. It is now not deficiency but superabundance of material that besets us; and if this work reaches its second volume, a rigid process of selection and of representative treatment will become necessary.
But in this first the problem is how to extract from comparatively, though not positively, scanty material a history that, without calling in guesswork to its assistance, shall present a fairly adequate account of the Higher Rhetoric and Poetic, the theory and practice of Literary Criticism and Taste, during ancient and during mediæval times. At intervals the narrative and examination will be interrupted for the purpose of giving summaries of a kind necessarily more temerarious and experimental than the body of the book, but even here no attempt will be made at hasty generalisation. Where the path has been so little trodden, the loyal road-layer will content himself with making it straight and firm, with fencing it from precipices, and ballasting it across morasses as well as he can, leaving others to stroll off on side-tracks to agreeable view-points, and to thread loops of cunning expatiation.
In conclusion, with special regard to this Book and the next, I would, very modestly but very strenuously, deprecate a line of comment which is not unusual from exclusively classical students, and which stigmatises “judging ancient literature from modern points of view.” Such a process is no doubt even more grossly wrong than that (not unknown) of judging modern literature from ancient standpoints. But the true critic admits neither. He endeavours—a hard and ambitious task!—to extract from all literature, ancient, mediæval, and modern, lessons of its universal qualities, which may enable him to see each period sub specie æternitatis. And nothing less than this—with the Muses to help—is the adventure of this work.
[1]. Delia Critica, Libri Tre. B. Mazzarella, Geneva, 1866. The book to which I owe my knowledge of this, Professors Gayley and Scott’s Introduction to the Methods and Materials of Literary Criticism, Boston, U.S.A., 1899, is invaluable as a bibliography, and has much more than merely bibliographical interest.
[2]. Ed. 2, Paris, 1849. The first edition may have appeared between 1830 and 1840. Vapereau says 1844, which would strengthen my point in the text; but this does not seem to agree with the Preface of the second.