Parodies of Ballad Criticism (1711-1787) Part 4

The Hero of the Iliad, as I observed in a former paper, is made to lament very pathetically,--that "life is not like all other possessions, to be acquired by theft."--A reflection, in my opinion, evidently shewing, that, if he _did_ refrain from the practice of this ingenious art, it was not from want of an inclination that way. We may remember too, that in _Virgil's_ poem, almost the first light in which the _Pious aeneas_ appears to us, is a _deer-stealer_; nor is it much excuse for him, that the deer were wandering without keepers; for however he might, from this circ.u.mstance, have been unable to ascertain whose property they were; he might, I think, have been pretty well a.s.sured that they were not _his_.

Having thus acquitted our Hero of misconduct, by the example of his betters, I proceed to what I think the Master-Stroke of the Poet.

"The Knave of Hearts "He stole those Tarts, "And----took them----quite away!!"

Here, whoever has an ear for harmony, and a heart for feeling, must be touched! There is a desponding melancholy in the run of the last line!

an air of tender regret in the addition of "_quite away!_" a something so expressive of irrecoverable loss! so forcibly intimating the "_Ah nunquam reditura!_" "They never can return!" in short, such an union of sound and sense, as we rarely, if ever meet with in any author, ancient or modern. Our feelings are all alive--but the Poet, wisely dreading that our sympathy with the injured Queen might alienate our affections from his Hero, contrives immediately to awaken our fears for him, by telling us, that

"The King of Hearts "Call'd for those Tarts,"--

We are all conscious of the fault of our Hero, and all tremble with him, for the punishment which the enraged Monarch may inflict;

"And beat the Knave--full sore!"

The fatal blow is struck! We cannot but rejoice that guilt is justly punished, though we sympathize with the guilty object of punishment.

Here _Scriblerus_, who, by the bye, is very fond of making unnecessary alterations, proposes reading "_Score_" instead of "_sore_," meaning thereby to particularize, that the beating bestowed by this Monarch, consisted of _twenty_ stripes. But this proceeds from his ignorance of the genius of our language, which does not admit of such an expression as "_full score_," but would require the insertion of the particle "_a_," which cannot be, on account of the metre. And this is another great artifice of the Poet: by leaving the quant.i.ty of beating indeterminate, he gives every reader the liberty to administer it, in exact proportion to the sum of indignation which he may have conceived against his Hero; that by thus amply satisfying their resentment, they may be the more easily reconciled to him afterwards.

"The King of Hearts "Call'd for those Tarts, "And beat the Knave full sore!"

Here ends the second part, or _middle_ of the poem; in which we see the character, and exploits of the Hero, pourtrayed with the hand of a master.

Nothing now remains to be examined, but the third part, or _End_. In the _End_, it is a rule pretty well established, that the Work should draw towards a conclusion, which our Author manages thus.

"The Knave of Hearts "Brought back those Tarts."

Here every thing is at length settled; the theft is compensated; the tarts restored to their right owner; and _Poetical Justice_, in every respect, strictly, and impartially administered.

We may observe, that there is nothing in which our Poet has better succeeded, than in keeping up an unremitted attention in his readers to the main instruments, the machinery of his poem, viz. The _Tarts_; insomuch, that the aforementioned _Scriblerus_ has sagely observed, that "he can't tell, but he doesn't know, but the tarts may be reckoned the heroes of the Poem." _Scriblerus_, though a man of learning, and frequently right in his opinion, has here certainly hazarded a rash conjecture. His arguments are overthrown entirely by his great opponent, _Hiccius_, who concludes, by triumphantly asking, "Had the tarts been eaten, how could the Poet have compensated for the loss of his Heroes?"

We are now come to the _denouement_, the setting all to rights: and our Poet, in the management of his _moral_, is certainly superior to his great ancient predecessors. The moral of their fables, if any they have, is so interwoven with the main body of their work, that in endeavouring to unravel it, we should tear the whole. _Our Author_ has very properly preserved his whole and entire for the _end_ of his poem, where he completes his _main design_, the _Reformation_ of his Hero, thus,

"And vow'd he'd steal no more."

Having in the course of his work, shewn the bad effects arising from theft, he evidently means this last moral reflection, to operate with his readers as a gentle and polite dissuasive from stealing.

"The Knave of Hearts "Brought back those Tarts, "And vow'd he'd steal no more!"

Thus have I industriously gone through the several parts of this wonderful Work; and clearly proved it, in every one of these parts, and in all of them together, to be a _due and proper Epic Poem_; and to have as good a right to that t.i.tle, from its adherence to prescribed rules, as any of the celebrated master-pieces of antiquity. And here I cannot help again lamenting, that, by not knowing the name of the Author, I am unable to twine our laurels together; and to transmit to posterity the mingled praises of Genius, and Judgment; of the Poet, and his commentator.

Having some s.p.a.ce left in this paper, I will now, with the permission of my readers of the _great world_, address myself more particularly to my fellow-citizens.

To them, the essay which I have here presented, will, I flatter myself, be peculiarly serviceable at this time; and I would earnestly recommend an attentive perusal of it, to all of them whose muses are engaged in compositions of the Epic kind.--I am very much afraid that I may run into the error, which I have myself pointed out, of becoming too _local_,--but where it is evidently intended for the good of my fellow citizens, it may, I hope, be now and then pardonable. At the present juncture, as many have applied for my a.s.sistance, I cannot find in my heart to refuse it them. Were I to attempt fully explaining, why, at the _present juncture_, I fear it would be vain. Would it not seem incredible to the Ladies, were I to tell them, that the period approaches, when upwards of a hundred _Epic Poems_ will be exposed to public view, most of them nearly of equal length, and many of them nearly of equal merit, with the one which I have here taken into consideration; ill.u.s.trated moreover with elegant etchings, designed either as _hieroglyphical_ explanations of the subject, or as _practical puns_ on the name of the author?--And yet in truth so it is,--and on this subject I wish to give a word of advice to my countrymen.

Many of them have applied to me by letter, to a.s.sist them with designs for prefixing to their poems; and this I should very willingly have done, had those gentlemen been kind enough to subscribe their real names to their requests: whereas, all that I have received have been signed, _Tom Long_, _Philosophus_, _Philalethes_, and such like. I have therefore been prevented from affording them the a.s.sistance I wished; and cannot help wondering, that the gentlemen did not consider, that it was impossible for me to provide _typical references_ for feigned names; as, for ought I know, the person who signs himself _Tom Long_ may not be four feet high; _Philosophus_ may be possessed of a considerable share of folly; and _Philalethes_ may be as arrant a liar as any in the kingdom.

It may not however be useless to offer some general reflections for all who may require them. It is not improbable, that, as the subject of their poems is the _Restoration_, many of my fellow-citizens may choose to adorn their _t.i.tle-pages_ with the representation of His Majesty, Charles the Second, escaping the vigilance of his pursuers in the _Royal Oak_. There are some particularities generally observable in this picture, which I shall point out to them, lest they fall into similar errors. Though I am as far as any other Briton can be, from wishing to "curtail" his Majesty's Wig "of its fair proportion;" yet I have sometimes been apt to think it rather improper, to make the Wig, as is usually done, of larger dimensions than the tree in which it and his Majesty are concealed. It is a rule in Logic, and I believe may hold good in most other Sciences, that "_omne majus continet in se minus_,"

that "every thing larger can hold any thing that is less;" but I own, I never heard the contrary advanced or defended with any plausible arguments, viz. "that every little thing can hold one larger."

I therefore humbly propose, that there should be at least an edge of foliage round the outskirts of the said wig; and that its curls should not exceed in number the leaves of the tree. There is also another practice almost equally prevalent, of which I am sceptic enough to doubt the propriety. I own, I cannot think it by any means conducive to the more effectual concealment of his Majesty, that there should be three Regal Crowns stuck on three different branches of the tree. Horace says indeed,

--------Pictoribus atque Poetis, Quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas.

Painters and Poets our indulgence claim, _Their daring equal, and their art the same._--FRAN.

And this may be reckoned a very allowable _poetical licence_; inasmuch as it lets the spectator into the secret, _who is in the tree_. But it is apt to make him at the same time throw the accusation of negligence and want of penetration on the three dragoons, who are usually depicted on the foreground, cantering along very composedly, with serene countenances, erect persons, and drawn swords, very little longer than themselves.