WITH CHAPTER III A DISCOURSE ON POETRY WITH these words the speaker was about to lay down the Poetry pen as finished with, when Eugenius begged for some examples and illustrations in addition to the sketch they had just listened to. "For," said he with a smile, "I have a liking for the poetic vein myself, and Joseph gave me the hopes of obtaining instruction and benefit from you." "Joseph could have satisfied your wish himself, well enough," he replied; "but since he has passed the work on to me, I will be even with him in this way—the illustrations shall be his own, and I will read them to you." He then rose and led them to certain sketches which were hanging from hooks on the wall, and covered with silken wrappers to keep off the dust and sun. The first is uncovered, and lo! there appears a wide river, incredible to behold. For at one side of the picture the river, in its lower, broader part, flows fast with tumbling waves towards the sea; at the other the waves are shown rolled back from mid-stream like a wall, and forcing up the river's headlong course to that fount1 whence it came. Thus there was a parting of the waters, and an open sandy passage reached from shore to shore. In the midst of this were priests bearing on their shoulders an ark, and around them was a vast crowd in the act of passing 1 Lat. in fontem-that is to say, the writer thought the miracle even more wonderful than it is usually considered by the ordinary Scripture student. He pictured the waves of Jordan, after the dividing of the waters, as rushing in different directions, the lower part of the Bk. III, Ch. III] JORDAN WAS DRIVEN BACK 261 through. Others could be seen putting up their tents on the farther side, and many were still entering with all confidence into the river's opened channel. It was amazement that was depicted on every face rather than fear, and the golden standard that was carried before them bore the inscription : river rushing on to the sea, and the upper part flowing back to its source. Now, Milton had this same idea; as early as his fifteenth year he wrote (Paraphrase Psalm cxiv.): Why fled the Ocean? and why skipt the Mountains? Professor Masson praises these lines as "clear, firmly worded, and harmonious," but quite misses the curious idea they contain, for he quotes it thus: Why turned Jordan from his crystal fountains? Also in Paradise Lost, xii. 145: Here, the double-founted stream, Jordan, true limit eastward; and in Milton's Greek translation of the same Psalm cxiv., composed in bed one morning in 1634, we have the same thought: τί δαρ ̓ ἐστυφελίχθης Ιρὸς Ἰορδάνη ποτὶ ἀργυροειδέα πηγήν ; Why wast thou, sacred Jordan, driven back I do not think this idea of Jordan rushing back to its source would be likely to occur to an ordinary reader of the psalm as we know it in A.V. and P.B.V.: The sea saw it, and fled: Jordan was driven back. Nor do I remember it in contemporary poetry, except that Wishartt (c. 1642), in his Immanuel, p. 19, speaks of Jordan's "twin-born tides." The Hebrew is: The sea saw and fled: Jordan turned backward. and our Revised Version has now accepted this rendering, which Milton as a scholar knew and followed long ago. Since writing the above I have noticed in Sylvester's Du Bartas of the 1621 edition, p. 49, the following couplet, no doubt the true fons et origo: And toward the Crystall of his double source All tribes must yield to victors such as these, At whose command e'en Nature turns and flees. Eugenius read this over, and, at once grasping the allusion, gazed awhile at the scene; then, eagerly moving on, he raised the silken veil of the next in order. Here, behind a grating, was shown a man of noble mien, with hands and eyes directed in prayer up to Heaven. Lions of fierce and terrible aspect were lying harmlessly at his feet, and caressing them with pleasure again and again. They seemed to have come to pay their court to him rather than to tear him to pieces. The picture had this motto: O mystic seer, if you would best avoid The snarling teeth of men, You have a refuge safe and free from fear, When they had viewed this, they were called to another picture, where they saw the head of John the Baptist on a silver dish, with King Herod and his magnates sitting at meat, and struck with horror at the dire result of a girl's vengeful request. Over the monarch's head was this epigram: O fool, thine oath might have been saved, as well as he; "Ah!" exclaimed Eugenius, "would that some good counsellor had thought of this idea before the deed was done. But who can this be, dipping an Ethiopian in a stream? Surely he can never wash him white?" But in the midst of his joking he was struck by the following verse inscribed on the picture: O Philip, why this vain attempt To wash an Ethiop white? "'Tis not in vain," the answer comes, "If heart and faith be right." "This answer," said Eugenius, "justly reproves my 1 This epigram on Daniel does not seem a very pointed one; possibly Psalm lvii. 2, 4, was in the writer's mind, Ch. III] ON POETRY 263 foolish scoffing, and I accept it as an oracle of God, which indeed it is.1 But did Joseph compose all these ?" "Yes," said their guide, "and painted the pictures too, for painting and music and such-like accomplishments we foster wherever there is talent or inclination, but not otherwise. As for poetry, it is different; all, without exception, are instructed in this, for although only a few out of the many make their mark in it, yet there are scarcely any who do not receive some tincture of refinement of style. The first concern for a poet, and the last, is 1 These Latin distichs here translated belong to that division of Latin poetry technically called Epigrammata Sacra, or Sacred Epigrams. After the Renaissance Latin epigrams began to spring up all over the learned world in great abundance, both sacred and profane, and at the time of Milton's youth they were at the height of their reputation. Our countryman Owen the Welshman was universally accepted as in the first rank. But our "British Martial" contributed mainly to the profane section, and his work began just before Milton was born. Later on, when Milton had recently left Cambridge, there was published at that university town a volume of Epigrammatica Sacra by a young scholar of Pembroke named Crashaw, which judicious critics have always considered a very praiseworthy performance for a youth of under twenty years of age. It is now quite forgotten, except for one line on the miracle at Cana: Nympha pudica Deum vidit et erubuit. But one of Crashaw's Latin sacred epigrams bears much verbal resemblance to the last one in Nova Solyma. This will be considered in the Latin poems, and I will here simply give Crashaw's very free paraphrase of his own epigram: ACTS VIII.-ON THE BAPTISED ETHIOPIAN Let it no longer be a forlorn hope To wash an Ethiop; He's washed; his gloomy skin a peaceful shade And now, I doubt not, the Eternal Dove This reminds one of the negro slave who said of the great advocate against slavery: "Ah! Massa Wilberforce, he hab a white face, but he hab a black heart." There is also another similar book of Latin epigrams hailing from Cambridge just after Milton's time, the Poemata Sacra of John Saltmarsh (1636, 12m0). the building up and putting together of words, and this requires the accompaniment of very melodious phrasing. There is the grave and acute tone in every tongue, and it is the suitable and smooth commingling of these that alone can produce sounds pleasing and grateful to the ear. There can be no success for the orator or the poet who neglects this harmonious blending. Moreover, there must be in addition a certain metrical flow in the words, and the clauses and cadences must not be abrupt. These rules we apply not only to recitation and singing, but to ordinary reading as well. "The next rule is that the style must agree with the character of the composition. If the subject is simple, so should the exposition be. Where effect is required, there should be rhetorical ornament, and in poetry a full and complete harmony is essential, for the art requires the most delicate handling, and along with correct diction the rhythmical felicity and position of each syllable ought to be duly pondered. No one can write true poetry by rule or measure simply; a critical ear is an absolute necessity. Accent, as well as the quantity of a word, has to be taken into account.1 Correct metre is by no means everything; there is the happy interchange of vowels and consonants, the due length of the words employed, the caesura where needed, all which should be fitly and musically interwoven in order to produce a true poem. For the metre may be admirably exact, and yet the words so tortured and crabbed that all the beauty of the piece is lost. Virgil used but one metre, the heroic; but how carefully did he vary it! How skilfully in his longer lines does he throw the caesura into the next line, and so sentence follows sentence! (for in epic poetry long periods are permissible, much more so than in lyrics). How musically does he arrange the callida 1 Cf. Milton, Sonnet XIII.: Harry, whose tuneful and well measured song |