II.
The sum of the foregoing article is this. The objects of imitation, like the materials of human knowledge, are a common stock, which experience furnishes to all men. And it is in the operations of the mind upon them, that the glory of poetry, as of science, consists. Here the genius of the poet hath room to shew itself; and from hence alone is the praise of originality to be ascertained. The fondest admirer of ancient art would never pretend that Palladio had copied Vitruvius; merely from his working with the same materials of wood, stone, or marble, which this great master had employed before him. But were the general design of these two architects the same in any buildings; were their choice and arrangement of the smaller members remarkably similar; were their works conducted in the same style, and their ornaments finished in the same taste; every one would be apt to pronounce on first sight, that the one was borrowed from the other. Even a correspondency in any one of these points might create a suspicion. For what likelihood, amidst an infinite variety of methods, which offer themselves, as to each of these particulars, that there should be found, without design, a signal concurrence in any one? ’Tis then in the usage and disposition of the objects of poetry, that we are to seek for proofs and evidences of plagiarism. And yet it may not be every instance of similarity, that will satisfy here. For the question recurs, “whether of the several forms, of which his materials are susceptible, there be nothing in the nature of things, which determines the artist to prefer a particular one to all others.” For it is possible, that general principles may as well account for a conformity in the manner, as we have seen them do for an identity of matter, in works of imitation. And to this question nothing can be replied, till we have taken an accurate survey of this second division of our subject. Luckily, the allusion to architecture, just touched upon, points to the very method, in which it may be most distinctly pursued. For here too, the MANNER of imitation, if considered in its full extent, takes in 1. The general plan or disposition of a poem. 2. The choice and application of particular subjects: and 3. The expression.
I. All poetry, as lord Bacon admirably observes, “nihil aliud est quam HISTORIAE IMITATIO AD PLACITUM.” By which is not meant, that the poet is at liberty to conduct his imitation absolutely in any manner he pleases, but with such deviations from the rule of history, as the end of poetry prescribes. This end is, universally, PLEASURE; as that of simple history is, INFORMATION. And from a respect to this end, together with some proper allowance for the diversity of the subject-matter, and the mode of imitation (I mean whether it be in the way of recital, or of action) are the essential differences of poetry from mere history, and the form or disposition of its several species, derived. What these differences are, and what the general plan in the composition of each species, will appear from considering the defects of simple history in reference to the main end, which poetry designs.
Some of these are observed by the great person before-mentioned, which I shall want no excuse for giving in his own words.
“1. Cum res gestae et eventus, qui verae historiae subjiciuntur, non sint ejus amplitudinis, in quâ anima humana sibi satisfaciat, praesto est poësis, quae facta magis heroica confingat. 2. Cum historia vera successus rerum minime pro meritis virtutum & scelerum, narret; corrigit eam poësis, & exitus & fortunas, secundum merita, & ex lege Nemeseos, exhibet. 3. Cum historia vera, obviâ rerum satietate & similitudine, animae humanae fastidio sit; reficit eam poësis, inexpectata, & varia & vicissitudinum plena canens.—Quare & merito etiam divinitatis cujuspiam particeps videri possit; quia animum erigit & in sublime rapit; rerum simulachra ad animi desideria accommodando, non animum rebus (quod ratio facit, & historia) submittendo[31].”
These advantages chiefly respect the narrative poetry, and above all, the Epos. There are others, still more general, and more directly to the purpose of this inquiry. For 4. The historian is bound to record a series of independent events and actions; and so, at once, falls into two defects, which make him incapable of affording perfect pleasure to the mind. For 1. The flow of passion, produced in us by contemplating any signal event, is greatly checked and disturbed amidst a variety and succession of actions. And 2. being obliged to pass with celerity over each transaction (for otherwise history would be too tedious for the purpose of information) he has not time to draw out single circumstances in full light and impress them with all their force on the imagination. Poetry remedies these two defects. By confining the attention to one object only, it gives the fancy and affections fair play: and by bringing forth to view and even magnifying all the circumstances of that one, it gives to every subject its proper dignity and importance. 5. Lastly, to satisfy the human mind, there must not only be an unity and integrity, but a strict connexion and continuity of the fable or action represented. Otherwise the mind languishes, and the transition of the passions, which gives the chief pleasure, is broken and interrupted. The historian fails, also, in this. By proceeding in the gradual and orderly succession of time, the several incidents, which compose the story, are not laid close enough together to content the natural avidity of our expectations. Whilst poetry, neglecting this regularity of succession, and setting out in the midst of the story, gratifies our instinctive impatience, and carries the affections along, with the utmost rapidity, towards the event.
These advantages are common both to narrative and dramatic poetry. But the drama, as professing to copy real life, contents itself with these. The rest belong entirely to the province of narration.
Now the general forms of poetical method, as distinct from that of history, are the pure result of our conclusions concerning the expediency and fitness of these means, as conducive to the proper end of poetry. Which, without more words, will inform us, how it came to pass, that the true plan or disposition of poetical works, was so early hit upon in practice, and established by exact theories; and may therefore satisfy us of the necessary resemblance and uniformity of all productions of this kind, whether their authors had, or had not, been guided by the pole-star of example.
So much for the general forms of the two greater kinds of poetry. If a proper allowance be made for a diversity of subject-matter, in either mode of composition, it will be easy, as I said, to account for the particular forms of the several subordinate species. And I the rather choose to do it in this way, and not from the peculiar end of each, which indeed were more philosophical, because the business is to make appear, how nature leads to the same general plan of composition in practice, not to establish the laws of each in the exact way of theory. Now in considering the matter historically, the diversity of subject-matter was doubtless that which first determined the writer to a different form of composition, tho’ afterwards, a consideration of the end, accomplished by each, be requisite to deduce, with more precision of method, its distinct laws. The latter is that from whence the speculative critic rightly estimates the character of every species; but the inventor had his direction principally from the former.
Let me exemplify the observation in an instance under either mode of imitation, and leave the rest to the reader.