SEVENTEENTH SECTION.

Further Illustrations of the Impropriety of detailed Delineations of bodily Objects in Poetry.

But, it will be objected to my argument, that the signs employed by poetry are not only consecutive, but likewise arbitrary, and therefore perfectly capable of delineating bodies as they exist in space. Homer himself, it will be

said, furnishes instances of this; his shield of Achilles alone presents the most decided example of the possibility of picturing a particular object by a successive description of all its various component parts, circumstantially and yet poetically.

I must reply to this twofold objection; twofold, I call it, because, in the first place, a conclusion, if correct in itself, must be allowed its due weight, even though unsupported by any

example; and, in the second place, the example of Homer would be of importance in my eyes, were I even unable to vindicate it by any conclusive argument.

I admit then at once the truth of the proposition; I grant that, since the signs of speech are arbitrary, it is very possible by their means to delineate the different parts of a body, one after the other, with the same precision as they are found combined in nature. But this is a property of speech and of its signs in general, and not in so far only as they are applicable to the purposes of poetry. The object of the poet is not simply to be intelligible, or to render his representations merely clear and distinct; this is equally the aim of the prose writer. The poet seeks to render the ideas which he awakens within us so vivid, that we may instantly fancy we perceive the real and sensible impressions of the objects they refer to; and, in that moment of illusion, we cease to be conscious of his words, that is to say, of the means by which he produces his effect. This is the amount of the explanation already given of the poetical picture.

But the poet, we are told, is a genuine painter; and now let us see how far the delineation of the various component parts of bodies is suitable for his painting.

And first I would ask, what is the process by which we arrive at a distinct conception of any object in space? It is this; we first contemplate each separate part, then the combination of those parts, and lastly, the whole together. Our senses perform these various operations with such amazing rapidity that they appear to us but as a single one; and this rapidity is indispensably necessary to enable us to form a conception of the whole, which in fact is nothing more than the result of our conceptions of the parts and of their combination. Taking it for granted, then, that the poet may lead our ideas in the most beautiful order from one part of the object to the other; and taking it also for granted that he is able to render the combination of those parts equally clear to us; what space of time will he require in order to perform this? Those combined effects which the eye perceives at a glance, he is obliged to enumerate

in tedious detail, and it not unfrequently happens that by the time we arrive at the last of his traits, we have already forgotten the first. Nevertheless, it is from these successive traits alone that we can form any conception of the whole. To the eye, the parts contemplated remain constantly present, and may be recurred to over and over again; on the contrary, when the ear is the channel of perception, the parts described are lost, if they are not preserved in the memory. And even supposing them to be

all correctly remembered,—what an effort, what an exertion would it require to revive their impressions all in the same order and with the same distinctness, and to think them over again with even moderate rapidity, so as to form a tolerable idea of the whole!

Let the experiment be tried on an example which may be considered a masterpiece of its kind ;*

Dort ragt das hohe Haupt vom edeln Enziane

Weit uebern niedern Chor der Poebelkraeuter hin,

See M. Von Haller's Alpen."

Ein ganzes Blumenvolk dient unter seiner Fahne,

Sein blauer Bruder selbst bueckt sich, und ehret ihn.

Der Blumen helles Gold, in Strahlen umgebogen,

Thuermt sich am Stengel auf, und kroent sein grau Gewand.
Der Blaetter glattes Weiss, mit tiefem Gruen durchzogen,
Strahlt von dem bunten Blitz von feuchtem Diamant.
Gerechtestes Gesetz! dass Kraft sich Zier vermaehle,
In einem schoenen Leib wohnt eine schoenre Seele.

Hier kriecht ein niedrig Kraut, gleich einem grauen Nebel,
Dem die Natur sein Blatt im Kreuze hingelegt;
Die holde Blume zeigt die zwey vergoldten Schnaebel,
Die ein von Amethyst gebildter Vogel traegt.
Dort wirft ein glaenzend Blatt, in Finger ausgekerbet,
Auf einen hellen Bach den gruenen Wiederschein;
Der Blumen zarten Schnee, den matter Purpur faerbet,
Schliesst ein gestreifter Stern in weisse Strahlen ein.
Smaragd und Rosen bluehn auch auf zertretner Heide,
Und Felsen decken sich mit einem Purpurkleide.*

* The Translator is indebted to the kindness of a literary friend for the following poetic version of the above beautiful lines:—

There shoots the noble gentian's lofty head

Far o'er the common herd of vulgar plants;
Beneath his flag a host of flowers is led,

And e'en his azure brother homage grants.

In circling rays his flowers of golden sheen

Tower from the stem and crown its vestment grey,
His leaves of glossy whiteness, streaked with green,
Vie with the diamond in its varying ray.

Most righteous law !—that Might consort with Grace,
—In each fair form a fairer soul we trace!-