TO DWELL RATHER ON EXCELLENCIES THAN IMPERFECTIONS. 41

One great Mark, by which you may discover a Critick who has neither Tafte nor Learning, is this, that he feldom ventures to praise any Paffage in an Author which has not been before received and applauded by the Publick, and that his Criticism turns wholly upon little Faults and Errors. This part of a

Critick is so very eafie to fucceed in, that we find every ordinary Reader, upon the publishing of a new Poem, has Wit and Ill-nature enough to turn several Passages of it into Ridicule, and very often in the right Place. This Mr. Dryden has very agreeably remarked in those two celebrated Lines,

Errors, like Straws, upon the Surface flow;

He who would fearch for Pearls must dive below.

A true Critick ought to dwell rather upon Excellencies than Imperfections, to discover the concealed Beauties of a Writer, and communicate to the World fuch things as are worth their Obfervation. The most exquifite Words and finest Strokes of an Author are those which very often appear the most doubtful and exceptionable, to a Man who wants a Relish for polite Learning; and they are these, which a fower [foure] undistinguishing Critick generally attacks with the greatest Violence. Tully obferves, that it is very eafie to brand or fix a Mark upon what he calls Verbum ardens, or, as it may be rendered into English, a glowing bold Expreffion, and to turn it into Ridicule by a cold ill-natured Criticism. A little Wit is equally capable of exposing a Beauty, and of aggravating a Fault, and though fuch a Treatment of an Author naturally produces Indignation in the Mind of an understanding Reader, it has however its effect among the generality of those whose Hands it falls into, the Rabble of Mankind being very apt to think that every thing which is laughed at with any mixture of Wit, is ridiculous in it felf.

Such a Mirth as this, is always unfeasonable in a Critick, as it rather prejudices the Reader than con

42

SIMPLE RIDICULE UNFAIR IN WORKS OF CRITICISM.

vinces him, and is capable of making a Beauty, as well as a Blemish, the Subject of Derision. A Man, who cannot write with Wit on a proper Subject, is dull and stupid, but one who fhews it in an improper place, is as impertinent and abfurd. Befides, a Man who has the Gift of Ridicule is very* apt to find Fault with any thing that gives him an Opportunity of exerting his beloved Talent, and very often cenfures a Passage, not because there is any Fault in it, but because he can be merry upon it. Such kinds of Pleasantry are very unfair and difingenuous in Works of Criticism, in which the greatest Masters, both Ancient and Modern, have always appeared with a serious and inftructive Air.

As I intend in my next Paper to fhew the Defects in Milton's Paradife Loft, I thought fit to premise these few Particulars, to the End that the Reader may know I enter upon it, as on a very ungrateful Work, and that I shall just point at the Imperfections, without endeavouring to enflame them with Ridicule. I must also obferve with Longinus, that the Productions of a great Genius, with many Lapfes and Inadvertencies, are infinitely preferable to the Works of an inferior kind of Author, which are scrupulously exact and conformable to all the Rules of correct Writing.

I shall conclude my Paper with a Story out of Boccalini, which fufficiently fhews us the Opinion that Judicious Author entertained of the fort of Criticks I have been here mentioning. A famous Critick, fays he, having gathered together all the Faults of an Eminent Poet, made a Present of them to Apollo, who received them very graciously, and refolved to make the Author a fuitable Return for the Trouble he had been at in collecting them. In order to this, he fet before him a Sack of Wheat, as it had been just threshed out of the Sheaf. He then bid him pick out the Chaff from among the Corn, and lay it aside by it felf. The Critick applied himself to the Task with great Industry and Pleasure, and after having made the due Separation, was presented by Apollo with the Chaff for his Pains.

The SPECTATOR.

-velut fi

Hor.

Egregio infperfos reprendas corpore nævos.
As perfect beauties often have a Mole. Creech.}

Saturday, February 9, 1712.

FTER what I have faid in my laft Saturday's Paper, I fhall enter on the Subject of this without farther Preface, and remark the several Defects which appear in the Fable, the Characters, the Sentiments, and the Language of Milton's Paradife Loft; not doubting but the Reader will pardon me, if I alledge at the fame time whatever may be faid for the Extenuation of fuch Defects. The firft Imperfection which I shall observe in the Fable is, that the Event of it is unhappy.

The Fable of every Poem is according to Ariftotle's Division either Simple or Implex. It is called Simple when there is no change of Fortune in it, Implex when the Fortune of the chief Actor changes from Bad to Good, or from Good to Bad. The Implex Fable is thought the most perfect; I fuppofe, because it is most proper to ftir up the Paffions of the Reader, and to furprize him with a greater variety of Accidents.

The Implex Fable is therefore of two kinds: In the first the chief Actor makes his way through a long Series of Dangers and Difficulties, 'till he arrives at Honour and Profperity, as we fee in the Stories of Ulyffes and*Encas.* In the second, the chief Actor in the Poem falls from fome eminent pitch of Honour and Prosperity, into Mifery and Difgrace. Thus we fee Adam and Eve finking from a State of Innocence and Happiness, into the most abject Condition of Sin and Sorrow.

44 DEFECTS. THE FABLE IS UNHAPPY, ITS HERO UN

The most taking Tragedies among the Ancients were built on this last fort of Implex Fable, particularly the Tragedy of OEdipus, which proceeds upon a Story, if we may believe Aristotle, the most proper for Tragedy that could be invented by the Wit of Man. I have taken fome pains in a former Paper to fhew, that this kind of Implex Fable, wherein the Event is unhappy, is more apt to affect an Audience than that of the first kind; notwithstanding many excellent Pieces among the Ancients, as well as most of those which have been written of late Years in our own Country, are raised upon contrary Plans. I must however own, that I think this kind of Fable, which is the most perfect in Tragedy, is not fo proper for an Heroic Poem.

Milton feems to have been fenfible of this Imperfection in his Fable, and has therefore endeavoured to cure it by several Expedients; particularly by the Mortification which the great Adversary of Mankind meets with upon his return to the Affembly of Infernal Spirits, as it is described in that [a] beautiful Paffage of the tenth Book; and likewise by the Vision, wherein Adam at the close of the Poem fees his Off-spring triumphing over his great Enemy, and himself restored to a happier Paradife than that from which he fell.†

There is another Objection against Milton's Fable, which is indeed almost the fame with the former, tho' placed in a different Light, namely, That the Hero in the Paradife Loft is unfuccefsful, and by no means a Match for his Enemies. This gave occafion to Mr. Dryden's Reflection, that the Devil was in reality Milton's Hero. I think I have obviated this Objection in my first Paper. The Paradife Loft is an Epic, [or a] Narrative Poem, he that looks for an Hero in it, fearches for that which Milton never intended; but if he will needs fix the Name of an Hero upon any Perfon in it, 'tis certainly the Meffiah who

+ See pp. 147-8.

SUCCESSFUL, AND IT HAS TOO MANY DIGRESSIONS.

45

is the Hero, both in the Principal Action, and in the [chief] Epifode[s]. Paganism could not furnish out a real Action for a Fable greater than that of the Iliad or Æneid, and therefore an Heathen could not form a higher Notion of a Poem than one of that kind, which they call an Heroic. Whether Milton's is not of a greater [fublimer] Nature I will not presume to determine, it is fufficient that I fhew there is in the Paradife Loft all the Greatness of Plan, Regularity of Design, and masterly Beauties which we difcover in Homer and Virgil.

I must in the next Place observe, that Milton has interwoven in the Texture of his Fable some Particulars which do not seem to have Probability enough for an Epic Poem, particularly in the Actions which he ascribes to Sin and Death, and the Picture which he draws of the Lymbo of Vanity, with other Paffages in the second Book. Such Allegories rather favour of the Spirit of Spencer and Ariofto, than of Homer and Virgil.

In the Structure of his Poem he has likewise admitted of too many Digreffions. It is finely observed by Ariftotle, that the Author of an Heroic Poem should seldom speak himself, but throw as much of his Work as he can into the Mouths of those who are his Principal Actors. Aristotle has given no Reason for this Precept; but I presume it is because the Mind of the Reader is more awed and elevated when he hears Æneas or Achilles fpeak, than when Virgil or Homer talk in their own Perfons. Besides that affuming the Character of an eminent Man is apt to fire the Imagination, and raise the Ideas of the Author. Tully tells us, mentioning his Dialogue of Old Age, in which Cato is the chief Speaker, that upon a Review of it he was agreeably imposed upon, and fancied that it was Cato, and not he himself, who utter'd his Thoughts on that Subject.

If the Reader would be at the pains to see how the Story of the Iliad and the Æneid is delivered by those