“Because, by Argument, is properly meant a subject of thought. The Argument of a poem is the subject, the story; and in Paradise Lost, and most long poems, it is given in prose, like a table of contents.”
“I like getting at the story at once, instead of fishing it out from the poetry.”
“If the story is all you care about, you are very right,” said her father; “but the story is the last thing people of taste think about in a fine poem.”
“Then Mary is a person of taste, I suppose; for she was in a great hurry to get to the grave part.”
“If she likes the grave part, she may go to it again,” said Mr. Byerley. “She would not like it if she did not understand it; and the more she understands and relishes it, the more likely she is to become a woman of taste. But I have another argument to propose to you both. Bid you ever hear me speak of Mrs. Fletcher of Southampton?”
“Yes, papa: you showed us a letter of her’s once: you remember it, Anna.”
“About her little girl that died? O yes, I remember that letter, and I want to see it again.”
“You shall, my dear; and you will soon see Mrs. Fletcher too. She is coming to stay with us for a few days.”
“Any body with her, papa?”
“Yes, her husband, of course; and perhaps two of her daughters. They come on Wednesday; so you must consult Mrs. Rickham how you are to make room for them all, and I am sure you will try to make their visit pleasant.”