All which, exact to rule, were brought about, "What! leave the Combat out!" exclaims the Knight; Yes, or we must renounce the Stagyrite. "Not so, by Heav'n!" (he answers in a rage) 280 66 Knights, squires, and steeds, must enter on the stage." So vast a throng the stage can ne'er contain, "Then build a new, or act it in a plain." Thus Critics of less judgment than caprice, Curious not knowing, not exact but nice, Form short Ideas; and offend in arts, (As most in manners) by a love to parts. Some to Conceit alone their taste confine, And glitt'ring thoughts struck out at ev'ry line; COMMENTARY. Ver. 285. Thus Critics of less judgment than caprice, Curious not knowing, not exact but nice, 285 290 2. He concludes his observations on those two sorts of Judges by parts, with this general reflection -The curious not knowing are the first sort, who judge by parts, and with a microscopic sight (as he says elsewhere) examine bit by bit. The not exact but nice, are the second, who judge by a favourite part, and talk of a whole to cover their fondness for a part; as philosophers do of principles, in order to obtrude notions and opinions in their stead. But the fate common to both is, to be governed by caprice and not by judgment; and consequently to form short ideas, or to have ideas short of truth: though the latter sort, through a fondness to their favourite part, imagining that it comprehends the whole in epitome: as the famous hero of La Mancha, mentioned just before, used to maintain, that Knight Errantry comprised within itself the quintessence of all Science, civil, military, and religious. Ver. 289. Some to Conceit alone, &c.] We come now to that second NOTES. Ver. 285. Thus Critics, &c.] In these two lines the poet finely describes the way in which bad writers are wont to imitate the qualities of good ones. As true judgment generally draws men out of popular opinions; so he who cannot get from the crowd by the assistance of this guide, willingly follows caprice, which will be sure to lead him into singularities. Again, true knowledge is the art of treasuring up only that which, from its use in life, is worthy of being lodged in the memory: and this makes the philosopher. But curiosity consists in a vain attention to every thing out of the way, and which for its inutility the world least regards: and this makes the antiquarian. Lastly, exactness is the just proportion of parts to one another, and their harmony in a whole. But he who has not extent of capacity for the exercise of this quality, contents himself with nicety, which is a busying oneself about points and syllables: and this makes the grammarian.-Warburton. Ver. 290. And glitt'ring thoughts,] A rage that infected Marino, Donne, Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit; What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd; COMMENTARY. 295 sort of bounded capacity, which betrays itself in its judgment on the manner of the work criticised. And this our Author prosecutes from ver. 288 to 384. These are again subdivided into divers classes. Ver. 289. Some to Conceit alone, &c.] The first [from ver. 288 to 305] are those who confine their attention solely to Conceit or Wit. And here again the Critic by parts, offends doubly in the manner, just as he did in the matter: for he not only confines his attention to a part, when it should be extended to the whole; but he likewise judges falsely of that part. And this, as the other, is unavoidable; the parts in the manner bearing the same close relation to the whole, that the parts in the matter do; to which whole, the ideas of this Critic have never yet extended. Hence it is, that our Author, speaking here of those who confine their attention solely to Conceit or Wit, describes the distinct species of true and false Wit: because they not only mistake a wrong disposition of true Wit for a right, but likewise false Wit for true: he describes false Wit first, [from ver. 288 to 297,] "Some to Conceit alone," &c. NOTES. and his disciple Cowley. See Dr. Johnson's excellent Dissertation on Cowley, and his fantastic style, in the first volume of Lives of the Poets. Little can be added to his discussion on false and unnatural thoughts. It is, beyond comparison, the best of all his criticisms.-Bowles. : Ver. 297. True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd, &c.] This definition is very exact. Mr. Locke had defined wit to consist "in the assemblage of ideas, and putting those together, with quickness and variety, wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, whereby to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy." But that great philosopher, in separating Wit from Judgment, as he does in this place, has given us (and he could therefore give us no other) only an account of Wit in general in which false Wit, though not every species of it, is included. A striking image therefore of Nature is, as Mr. Locke observes, certainly Wit but this image may strike on several other accounts, as well as for its truth and beauty; and the philosopher has explained the manner how. But it never becomes that Wit which is the ornament of true Poesy, whose end is to represent Nature, but when it dresses that Nature to advantage, and presents her to us in the brightest and most amiable light. And to know when the Fancy has done its office truly, the Poet subjoins this admirable test, viz. When we perceive that it gives us back the image of our mind. When it does that, we may be sure it plays no tricks with us for this image is the creature of the Judgment; and whenever Wit corresponds with Judgment, we may safely pronounce it to be true. "Naturam intueamur, hanc sequamur: id facillime accipiunt animi quod agnoscunt." Quint. lib. viii. c. 3.—Warburton. Ver. 298. What oft was thought,] "Pope's account of wit is undoubtedly Something, whose truth convinc'd at sight we find, For works may have more wit than does 'em good, Others for Language all their care express, And value books, as women men, for dress: COMMENTARY. 300 305 Where the reader may observe our Author's address in representing, in a description of false Wit, the false disposition of the true; as the Critic by parts is apt to fall into both these errors. He next describes true Wit, [from ver. 296 to 305,] "True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd," &c. And here again the reader may observe the same beauty; not only an explanation of true Wit, but likewise of the right disposition of it, which the poet illustrates, as he did the wrong, by ideas taken from the art of Painting; in the theory of which he was exquisitely skilled. Ver. 305. Others for Language, &c.] He proceeds secondly to those NOTES. erroneous; he depresses it below its natural dignity, and reduces it from strength of thought to happiness of language. "If by a more noble and more adequate conception that be considered as wit, which is at once natural and new, that which, though not obvious, is, upon its first production, acknowledged to be just; if it be that, which he that never found it, wonders how he missed; to wit, of this kind the metaphysical poets have seldom risen. Their thoughts are often new, but seldom natural; they are not obvious, but neither are they just; and the reader, far from wondering that he missed them, wonders more frequently by what perverseness they were ever found. 66 'But wit, abstracted from its effects upon the hearer, may be more vigorously and philosophically considered as a kind of discordia concors; a combination of dissimilar images, or discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike. Of wit, thus defined, they have more than enough. The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together; nature and art are ransacked for illustrations, comparisons, and allusions ; their learning instructs, and their subtilty surprises; but the reader commonly thinks his improvement dearly bought, and, though he sometimes admires, is seldom pleased. 66 From this account of their compositions it will be readily inferred, that they were not successful in representing or moving the affections. As they were wholly employed on something unexpected and surprising, they had no regard to that uniformity of sentiment which enables us to conceive and to excite the pains and the pleasures of other minds; they never inquired what, on any occasion, they should have said or done; but wrote rather as beholders than partakers of human nature; as beings looking upon good and evil, impassive and at leisure, as Epicurean deities, making remarks on the actions of men, and the vicissitudes of life, without interest, and without emotion. Their courtship was void of fondness, and their lamentation of sorrow. Their wish was only to say what they hoped had never been said before."-Johnson. Ver. 302. modest plainness] Xenophon in Greek, and Cæsar in Latin, Their praise is still,-The Style is excellent; The Sense, they humbly take upon content. Words are like leaves; and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found: 310 False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, Its gaudy colours spreads on ev'ry place; COMMENTARY. 315 contracted Critics, whose whole concern turns upon Language, and shows [from ver. 304 to 337] that this quality, where it holds the principal place in a work, deserves no commendation: 1. Because it excludes qualities more essential. And when the abounding Verbiage has choked and suffocated the sense, the writer will be obliged to varnish over the mischief with all the false colouring of eloquence. 2. Secondly, because the Critic who busies himself with this quality alone, is unable to make a right Judgment of it; because true Expression is only the dress of thought; and so must be perpetually varied according to the subject, and manner of treating it. But those who never concern themselves with the Sense, can form no judgment of the correspondence between that and the Language. Expression is the dress of thought, and still Appears more decent, as more suitable," &c. Now as these Critics are ignorant of this correspondence, their whole judgment in language is reduced to verbal criticism, or the examination of single words; and generally those which are most to his taste, are (for an obvious reason) such as smack most of antiquity: on which account our author has bestowed a little raillery upon it; concluding with a short and proper direction concerning the use of words, so far as regards their novelty and ancientry. NOTES. are the unrivalled masters of the beautiful simplicity here recommended. We have no English, French, or Italian Writer that can be placed in the same rank with them, for this uncommon excellence.-Warton. Ver. 311. False eloquence, &c.] This simile is beautiful. For the false colouring given to objects by the prismatic glass, is owing to its untwisting, by its obliquities, those threads of light which nature had put together, in order to spread over its work an ingenious and simple candour, that should not hide but only heighten the native complexion of the objects. And false Expression is nothing else but the straining and divaricating the parts of true Expression; and then daubing them over with what the Rhetoricians very properly term Colours, in lieu of that candid light, now lost, which was reflected from them in their natural state, while sincere and entire.Warburton. A vile conceit in pompous words express'd 320 Ancients in phrase, mere moderns in their sense; 325 These sparks with awkward vanity display As apes our grandsires, in their doublets drest. NOTES. 330 Ver. 324. Some by old words, &c.] "Abolita et abrogata retinere, insolentiæ cujusdam est, et frivolæ in parvis jactantiæ." Quint. lib. i. c. 6. 66 Opus est, ut verba à vetustate repetita neque crebra sint, neque manifesta, quia nil est odiosius affectatione, nec utique ab ultimis repetita temporibus. Oratio cujus summa virtus est perspicuitas, quam sit vitiosa, si egeat interprete? Ergo ut novorum optima erunt maxime vetera, ita veterum maxima nova.' ." Idem.-P. Quintilian's advice on this subject is as follows: “Cum sint autem verba propria, ficta, translata; propriis dignitatem dat antiquitas. Namque et sanctiorem, et magis admirabilem reddunt orationem, quibus non quilibet fuit usurus eoque ornamento acerrimi judicii Virgilius unice est usus." "The language of the age (says Mr. Gray, admirably well) is never the language of poetry; except among the French, whose verse, where the thought or image does not support it, differs in nothing from prose. Our poetry, on the contrary, has a language peculiar to itself; to which almost every one that has written, has added something by enriching it with foreign idioms and derivatives: nay, sometimes words of their own composition or invention. Shakespear and Milton have been great creators this way; and no one more licentious than Pope or Dryden, who perpetually borrow expressions from the former. Let me give you some instances from Dryden, whom every body reckons a great master of our poetical tongue. Full of museful mopings,—unlike the trim of love,—a pleasant beverage,―a roundelay of love,—stood silent in his mood,—with knots and knares deformed, his ireful mood,-in proud array,-his boon was granted, and disarray and shameful rout,-wayward but wise,-furbished for the field, the foiled dodderd oaks, disherited,—smouldring flames,-retchless of laws, ―crones old and ugly,—the beldam at his side, the grandam hag,— villanize his father's fame.-But they are infinite; and our language not being a settled thing (like the French), has an undoubted right to words of an hundred years old, provided antiquity have not rendered them unintelligible. In truth, Shakespear's language is one of his principal beauties; and he has no less advantage over your Addisons and Rowes in this, than in those great excellencies you mention. Every word in him is a picture." -Warton. Ver. 328. Unlucky, as Fungoso, &c.] See Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour.-P. |