2. Another instance, in which we are misled by an ambition of attaining to what is right, is, when, through an excessive fear of committing faults, we disqualify ourselves for the just execution of a whole, or of such particulars, as are susceptible of real beauty. For not the affectation of superior excellencies only, but even
In vitium ducit culpae fuga, si caret arte.
This is aptly illustrated by the case of a sculptor. An over-scrupulous diligence to finish single and trivial parts in a statue, which, when most exact, are only not faulty, leaves him utterly incapable of doing justice to the more important members, and, above all, of designing and completing a whole with any degree of perfection. But this latter is commonly the defect of a minute genius; who, having taken in hand a design, which he is by no means able to execute, naturally applies himself to labour and finish those parts, which he finds are within his power. It is of consequence therefore [from v. 38 to 40] for every writer to be well acquainted with the nature and extent of his own talents: and to be careful to chuse a subject, which is, in all its parts, proportioned to his strength and ability. Besides, from such an attentive survey of his subject, and of his capacity to treat it, he will also derive these further advantages [v. 41] 1. That he cannot be wanting in a proper fund of matter, wherewith to inlarge under every head: nor, 2. can he fail, by such a well-weighed choice, to dispose of his subject in the best and most convenient method. Especially, as to the latter, which is the principal benefit, he will perceive [to v. 45] where it will be useful to preserve, and where to change, the natural order of his subject, as may best serve to answer the ends of poetry.
Thus far some general reflexions concerning poetical distribution; principally, as it may be affected by false notions, 1. Of poetic licence [v. 10] and, 2. Of poetic perfection [v. 25]. But the same causes will equally affect the language, as method, of poetry. To these then are properly subjoined some directions about the use of words. Now this particular depending so entirely on what is out of the reach of rule, as the fashion of the age, the taste of the writer, and his knowledge of the language, in which he writes, the poet only gives directions about new words: or, since every language is necessarily imperfect, about the coining of such words, as the writer’s necessity or convenience may demand. And here, after having prescribed [l. 46] a great caution and sparingness in the thing itself, he observes, 1. [to l. 49] That where it ought to be done, the better and less offensive way will be, not to coin a word entirely new (for this is ever a task of some envy) but, by means of an ingenious and happy position of a well-known word, in respect of some others, to give it a new air, and cast. Or, if it be necessary to coin new words, as it will be in subjects of an abstruse nature, and especially such, as were never before treated in the language, that then, 2. [to l. 54] this liberty is very allowable; but that the reception of them will be more easy, if we derive them gently, and without too much violence, from their proper source, that is, from a language, as the Greek, already known, and approved. And, to obviate the prejudices of over-scrupulous critics on this head, he goes on [from l. 54 to l. 73] in a vein of popular illustration, to alledge, in favour of this liberty, the examples of antient writers, and the vague, unsteady nature of language itself.
From these reflexions on poetry, at large, he proceeds now to particulars: the most obvious of which being the different forms and measures of poetic composition, he considers, in this view [from v. 75 to 86] the four great species of poetry, to which all others may be reduced, the Epic, Elegiac, Dramatic, and Lyric. But the distinction of the measures to be observed in the several species of poetry is so obvious, that there can scarcely be any mistake about them. The difficulty is to know [from v. 86 to 89] how far, each may partake of the spirit of other, without destroying that natural and necessary difference, which ought to subsist betwixt them all. To explane this, which is a point of great nicety, he considers [from v. 89 to 99] the case of dramatic poetry; the two species of which are as distinct from each other, as any two can be, and yet there are times, when the features of the one will be allowed to resemble those of the other. For, 1. Comedy, in the passionate parts, will admit of a tragic elevation: and, 2. Tragedy, in its soft distressful scenes, condescends to the ease of familiar conversation. But the poet had a further view in chusing this instance. For he gets by this means into the main of his subject, which was dramatic poetry, and, by the most delicate transition imaginable, proceeds [from l. 89 to 323] to deliver a series of rules, interspersed with historical accounts, and enlivened by digressions, for the regulation and improvement of the Roman Stage.
PART II.
DIRECTIONS FOR THE REGULATION AND IMPROVEMENT OF THE ROMAN STAGE.
Having fixed the distinct limits and provinces of the two species of the drama, the poet enters directly on his subject, and considers, I. [from v. 99 to 119] the properties of the TRAGIC STYLE; which will be different, 1. [to v. 111] according to the internal state and character of the speaker: thus one sort of expression will become the angry; another, the sorrowful; this, the gay, that, the severe. And, 2. [from v. 111 to 119] according to the outward circumstances of rank, age, office, or country.
II. Next [to v. 179] he treats of the CHARACTERS, which are of two sorts. 1. Old ones, revived: and 2. Invented, or new ones. In relation to the first [from v. 119 to 125] the precept is, to follow fame; that is, to fashion the character according to the received, standing idea, which tradition and elder times have consecrated; that idea being the sole test, whereby to judge of it. 2. In respect of the latter [from v. 125 to 128] the great requisite is uniformity, or consistency of representation. But the formation of quite new characters is a work of great difficulty and hazard. For here, there is no generally received and fixed archetype to work after, but every one judges, of common right, according to the extent and comprehension of his own idea. Therefore [to v. 136] he advises to labour and refit old characters and subjects; particularly those, made known and authorized by the practice of Homer and the epic writers; and directs, at the same time, by what means to avoid that servility and unoriginal air, so often charged upon such pieces. I said characters and subjects, for his method leading him to guard against servility of imitation in point of characters, the poet chose to dispatch the whole affair of servile imitation at once, and therefore [to v. 136] includes subjects, as well as characters.
But this very advice, about taking the subjects and characters from the epic poets, might be apt to lead into two faults, arising from the ill conduct of those poets themselves. For, 1. [to v. 146] the dignity and importance of a subject, made sacred by antient fame, had sometimes occasioned a boastful and ostentatious beginning, than which nothing can be more offensive. And, 2. The whole story being composed of great and striking particulars, injudicious writers, for fear of losing any part of it, which might serve to adorn their work, had been led to follow the round of plain historic order, and so had made the disposition of their piece uninteresting and unartful. Now both these improprieties, which appear so shocking in the epic poem, must needs, with still higher reason, deform the tragic. For, taking its rise, not from the flattering views of the poet, but the real situation of the actor, its opening must of necessity, be very simple and unpretending. And being, from its short term of action, unable naturally to prepare and bring about many events, it, of course, confines itself to one; as also for the sake of producing a due distress in the plot; which can never be wrought up to any trying pitch, unless the whole attention be made to fix on one single object. The way to avoid both these faults, will be to observe (for here the imitation cannot be too close) the well-judged practice of Homer.
Having thus considered the affair of imitation, and shewn how old characters, and, to carry it still further, old subjects, may be successfully treated, he resumes the head of characters, and proceeds more fully [from v. 153 to 179] to recommend it as a point of principal concern in the drawing of them, to be well acquainted with the manners, agreeing to the several successive periods and stages of human life. And this with propriety: for, though he had given a hint to this purpose before,