THE MICROCOSM.

by

Gregory Griffin.

No. XI. of the

MICROCOSM.

MONDAY, _February_ 12, 1787.

Res gestae regumque, duc.u.mque, et tristia bella, _Quo scribi possint numero, monstravit Homerus_.--HOR.

By Homer taught, the modern poet sings, _In Epic strains, of heroes, wars, and Kings_.--FRANCIS.

There are certain forms and etiquettes in life, which, though the neglect of them does not amount to the commission of a crime, or the violation of a duty, are yet so established by example, and sanctioned by custom, as to pa.s.s into Statutes, equally acknowledged by society, and almost equally binding to individuals, with the laws of the land, or the precepts of morality. A man guilty of breaking these, though he cannot be transported for a felon, or indicted for treasonable practices, is yet, in the High Court of Custom, branded as a flagrant offender against decorum, as notorious for an unprecedented infringement on propriety.

There is no race of men on whom these laws are more severe than Authors; and no species of Authors more subject to them, than Periodical Essayists. _Homer_ having prescribed the form, or to use a more modern phrase, _set the fashion_ of _Epic Poems_, whoever presumes to deviate from his plan, must not hope to partic.i.p.ate his dignity: And whatever method, _The Spectator_, _The Guardian_, and others, who first adopted this species of writing, have pursued in their undertaking, is set down as a rule for the conduct of their followers; which, whoever is bold enough to transgress, is accused of a deviation from the original design, and a breach of established regulation.

It has. .h.i.therto been customary for all Periodical Writers, to take some opportunity, in the course of their labours, to display their Critical abilities, either by making observations on some popular Author, and work of known character, or by bringing forth the performances of hidden merit, and throwing light on genius in obscurity. To the critiques of _The Spectator_, _Shakespear_, and more particularly, _Milton_, are indebted, for no inconsiderable share of the reputation, which they now so universally enjoy; and by his means were the ruder graces, and more simple beauties of _Chevy Chace_ held up to public view, and recommended to general admiration.

I should probably be accused of swerving from the imitation of so great an example, were not I to take occasion to shew that I too am not entirely dest.i.tute of abilities of this kind; but that by possessing a decent share of critical discernment, and critical jargon, I am capable of becoming a very tolerable commentator. For the proof of which, I shall rather prefer calling the attention of my readers to an object as yet untreated of by any of my immediate predecessors, than venture to throw in my observations on any work which has before pa.s.sed the ordeal of frequent examination. And this I shall do for two reasons; partly, because were I to choose a field, how fertile soever, of which many others had before me been reaping the fruits, mine would be at best but the gleanings of criticism; and partly, from a more interested view, from a selfish desire of acc.u.mulated praise; since, by making a work, as yet almost wholly unknown, the subject of my consideration, I shall acquire the reputation of taste, as well as judgement;--of judiciousness in selection, as well as justness in observation;--of propriety in choosing the object, as well as skill in using the language, of commentary.

The _Epic Poem_ on which I shall ground my present critique, has for its chief characteristics, brevity and simplicity. The Author,--whose name I lament that I am, in some degree, prevented from consecrating to immortal fame, by not knowing what it is--the Author, I say, has not branched his poem into excressences of episode, or prolixities of digression; it is neither variegated with diversity of unmeaning similitudes, nor glaring with the varnish of unnatural metaphor. The whole is plain and uniform; so much so indeed, that I should hardly be surprised, if some morose readers were to conjecture, that the poet had been thus simple rather from necessity than choice; that he had been restrained not so much by chast.i.ty of judgement, as sterility of imagination.

Nay, some there may be perhaps, who will dispute his claim to the t.i.tle of an _Epic Poet_; and will endeavour to degrade him even to the rank of a _ballad-monger_. But I, as his Commentator, will contend for the dignity of my Author; and will plainly demonstrate his Poem to be an _Epic Poem_, agreeable to the example of all Poets, and the consent of all Critics heretofore.

First, it is universally agreed, that an _Epic Poem_ should have three component parts, _a beginning_, _a middle_, and _an end_;--secondly, it is allowed, that it should have one _grand action_, or _main design_, to the forwarding of which, all the parts of it should directly or indirectly tend; and that this design should be in some measure consonant with, and conducive to, the purposes of _Morality_;--and thirdly, it is indisputably settled, that it should have _a Hero_.

I trust that in none of these points the poem before us will be found deficient. There are other inferior properties, which I shall consider in due order.

Not to keep my readers longer in suspense, the subject of the poem is "_The Reformation of the Knave of Hearts_." It is not improbable, that some may object to me that a _Knave_ is an unworthy Hero for an Epic Poem; that a Hero ought to be all that is great and good. The objection is frivolous. The greatest work of this kind that the World has ever produced, has "_The Devil_" for its hero; and supported as my author is by so great a precedent, I contend, that his Hero is a very decent Hero; and especially as he has the advantage of _Milton_'s, by reforming at the end, is evidently ent.i.tled to a competent share of celebrity.

I shall now proceed in the more immediate examination of the poem in its different parts. The _beginning_, say the Critics, ought to be plain and simple; neither embellished with the flowers of poetry, nor turgid with pomposity of diction. In this how exactly does our Author conform to the established opinion! he begins thus,

"The Queen of Hearts "She made some Tarts"--

Can any thing be more clear! more natural! more agreeable to the true spirit of simplicity! Here are no tropes,--no figurative expressions,--not even so much as an invocation to the Muse. He does not detain his readers by any needless circ.u.mlocution; by unnecessarily informing them, what he _is_ going to sing; or still more unnecessarily enumerating what he _is not_ going to sing: but according to the precept of Horace,

----in medias res, Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit,----

That is, he at once introduces us, and sets us on the most easy and familiar footing imaginable, with her Majesty of Hearts, and interests us deeply in her domestic concerns. But to proceed,

"The Queen of Hearts "She made some Tarts, "All on a Summer's Day."

Here indeed the prospect brightens, and we are led to expect some liveliness of imagery, some warmth of poetical colouring;--but here is no such thing.--There is no task more difficult to a Poet, than that of _Rejection_. _Ovid_, among the ancients, and _Dryden_, among the moderns, were perhaps the most remarkable for the want of it. The latter from the haste in which he generally produced his compositions, seldom paid much attention to the "_limae labor_," "the labour of correction,"

and seldom therefore rejected the a.s.sistance of any idea that presented itself. _Ovid_, not content with catching the leading features of any scene or character, indulged himself in a thousand minutiae of description, a thousand puerile prettinesses, which were in themselves uninteresting, and took off greatly from the effect of the whole; as the numberless suckers, and straggling branches of a fruit tree, if permitted to shoot out unrestrained, while they are themselves barren and useless, diminish considerably the vigour of the parent stock.

_Ovid_ had more genius, but less judgement than _Virgil_; _Dryden_ more imagination, but less correctness than _Pope_; had they not been deficient in these points, the former would certainly have equalled, the latter infinitely outshone the merits of his countryman.--_Our Author_ was undoubtedly possessed of that power which they wanted; and was cautious not to indulge too far the sallies of a lively imagination.

Omitting therefore any mention of--sultry Sirius,--silvan shade,--sequestered glade,--verdant hills,--purling rills,--mossy mountains,--gurgling fountains,--&c. &c.--he simply tells us that it was "_All on a Summers Day_." For my own part, I confess, that I find myself rather flattered than disappointed; and consider the Poet as rather paying a compliment to the abilities of his readers, than baulking their expectations. It is certainly a great pleasure to see a picture well painted; but it is a much greater to paint it well oneself. This therefore I look upon as a stroke of excellent management in the Poet.

Here every reader is at liberty to gratify his own taste; to design for himself just what sort of "_Summer's Day_" he likes best; to choose his own scenery; dispose his lights and shades as he pleases; to solace himself with a rivulet or a horse-pond,--a shower, or a sun-beam,--a grove, or a kitchen garden,--according to his fancy. How much more considerate this, than if the Poet had, from an affected accuracy of description, thrown us into an unmannerly perspiration by the heat of the atmosphere; forced us into a landscape of his own planning, with perhaps a paltry good-for-nothing zephyr or two, and a limited quant.i.ty of wood and water.--All this _Ovid_ would undoubtedly have done. Nay, to use the expression of a learned brother-commentator, "_quovis pignore decertem_" "I would lay any wager," that he would have gone so far as to tell us what the tarts were made of; and perhaps wandered into an episode on the art of preserving cherries. But _our Poet_, above such considerations, leaves every reader to choose his own ingredients, and sweeten them to his own liking; wisely foreseeing, no doubt, that the more palatable each had rendered them to his own taste, the more he would be affected at their approaching loss.

"All on a Summer's Day."

I cannot leave this line without remarking, that one of the _Scribleri_, a descendant of the famous _Martinus_, has expressed his suspicions of the text being corrupted here, and proposes, instead of "_All on_"

reading "_Alone_," alledging, in favour of this alteration, the effect of Solitude in raising the pa.s.sions. But _Hiccius Doctius_, a High Dutch commentator, one nevertheless well versed in British literature, in a note of his usual length and learning, has confuted the arguments of _Scriblerus_. In support of the present reading, he quotes a pa.s.sage from a poem written about the same period with our author's, by the celebrated _Johannes Pastor_[*], int.i.tuled "_An Elegiac Epistle to the Turnkey of Newgate_," wherein the gentleman declares, that rather indeed in compliance with an old custom, than to gratify any particular will of his own, he is going

--------"All hanged for to be "Upon that fatal Tyburn tree."----

[Footnote *: More commonly known, I believe, by the appellation of "_Jack Shepherd_."]

Now as nothing throws greater light on an author, than the concurrence of a contemporary writer, I am inclined to be of _Hiccius's_ opinion, and to consider the "_All_" as an elegant expletive, or, as he more aptly phrases it "_elegans expletivum_." The pa.s.sage therefore must stand thus,

"The Queen of Hearts "She made some Tarts, "All on a Summer's Day."

And thus ends the first part, or _beginning_; which is simple and unembellished; opens the subject in a natural and easy manner; excites, but does not too far gratify our curiosity: for a reader of accurate observation may easily discover, that the _Hero_ of the Poem has not, as yet, made his appearance.

I could not continue my examination at present through the whole of this Poem, without far exceeding the limits of a single paper. I have therefore divided it into two; but shall not delay the publication of the second to another week,--as that, besides breaking the connection of criticism, would materially injure the _unities_ of the Poem.

No. XII.

of the

MICROCOSM.

MONDAY, _February 12, 1787_.

--------Servetur ad imum, Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

HORACE.

From his first Entrance to the closing Scene, Let him one equal Character maintain.

FRANCIS.

Having thus gone through the first part, or _beginning_ of the Poem, we may naturally enough proceed to the consideration of the second.

The second part, or _middle_, is the proper place for bustle and business; for incident and adventure.

"The Knave of Hearts "He stole those Tarts."

Here attention is awakened; and our whole souls are intent upon the first appearance of the Hero. Some readers may perhaps be offended at his making his _entre_ in so disadvantageous a character as that of a _thief_. To this I plead precedent.