A Full Enquiry into the Nature of the Pastoral (1717) — Context and Discussion

Sophy was a true-born _Britton_, and admir'd a forward _Spirit_. The _French_ he little loved; Their Poets dare not (said he) think without the Ancients, and their Criticks make use of their Eyes instead of their Understandings. 'Twas his way to pardon, nay admire a Critick, who for every fifty Errors would give him but one Remark of Use, or good Discovery. But always read one Sheet, then burnt those dull insipid Rogues, who thought that to write a good was to write a faultless Piece. By which means their whole Work becomes one general Fault.

This Censure, I fear, would fall pretty heavy on the [A]_Criticks_ of _France_; if this were a proper Place to persue the Argument in. But Sophy thus resum'd his Talk.

[Footnote A: _In the Preface to the Second Part of our_ Pastorals, _viz._ THE BASHFUL-SWAIN, _and_ BEAUTY AND SIMPLICITY, _we have shown to what Perfection the whole Science of_ CRITICISM _was brought by the Ancients, then what Progress the_ French Criticks _have further made, and also what remains as yet untouch'd, and uncompleat_.]

In this, said he, I like your Temper, Cubbin. By those few Pieces we have seen of your's, and those I hear you have in Manuscript, you seem determin'd to engage in those Kinds of Poetry and those Subjects in Criticism, which the Ancients have left us most imperfect. Here, if you fail, you may be still some help to him who shall Attempt it next; and if all decline it, apprehensive of no fair success, how should it ever attain Perfection.

Then Cubbin told the _Critick_, that the reason of his entering upon Pastoral, where the Labour was excessive and the Honour gain'd minute, was this; He had unhappily reflected on that thing, we call a Name, so thoroughly, and weigh'd so closely what like Happiness it would afford, that he could now receive no pleasure from the Thoughts of growing famous; nor would write one Hour in any little kind of Poetry, which was not able to take up and possess his Mind with Pleasure, tho' it would procure him the most glaring Character in Christendom. This Temper was especially conspicuous while he tarried at the Fountain where he imbibed the little Knowledge he possesses. He seem'd as out of humour with Applause, and dafted aside the Wreath if ever any seem'd dispos'd to offer it.

I' faith, said _Cubbin_, I am nothing careful whether any Pastorals be cry'd up or not. Were I dispos'd to write for a Name, no whit would I engage in either the Sublime or Soft in Writing: For as the middle Way, made up of both, is vastly easiest to attain; so is it pleasant to the most Imaginations, and acquires the widest Character.

There are originally, answer'd Sophy, no perfect and real Kinds of Writing but them two. As for the Strong Lines, 'tis supplying the want of the Sublime with the Courtly and Florid Stile; as what we usually call the Fine and Agreeable is but bastard and degenerate from the truly Tender. But yet it must be added that this suits the Populace the best.

Here Cubbin answer'd Sophy, that these were pretty ways of making Verses, but his mind was of such a peculiar Turn, that it requir'd some greater Design, and more laborious to occupy it, or else it would not be sufficiently engag'd to be delighted. Twould not be taken off from reflecting on what a stupid Dream is Life; and what trifling and impertinent Creatures all Mankind. Unless, said He, I'm busy'd, and in a hurry, I can't impose upon my self the Thought that I am a Being of some little significance in the Creation; I can't help looking forward and discovering how little better I shall be if I write well, or ill, or not at all. I would fain perswade my self, continued he, that a _Shakespear_ and a _Milton_ see us now take their Works in hand with Pleasure and read with Applause.

Tis certain, answer'd Sophy, that the less we know of Nature and our Selves, the more is Life delightful. If we take all things as we see 'em, Life is a good simple kind of Dream enough, but if we awaken out of the dull Lethargy, we are so unhappy as to discover, that tis all and every thing Folly, and Nonsense and Stupidity.--But we walk in a vain Shadow and disquiet our selves in vain.

Here Cubbin fell with his Face to the Ground, and said, I prethee now no more of this; your Book you open'd but forgot to give me the Contents.

Sophy recollected him; and told the Swain, That Book contain'd some Rules for his Direction. But as I have not patience, added he, to make a Treatise of some hundred Pages, which consists of other Persons Hints, but flourish'd and dilated on; or the Rules and Observations of the Anciants set in a different Light; I shall first sum up the whole Discoverys the _French_ or any other Criticks yet have made in Pastoral; and where they have left it I shall take the Subject, and try how far beyond I am able to carry it. For after that, every single Thought will be the free Sentiment of my own Mind. And I desire all to judge as freely as I write; and (if, after a strict Examination of the Rules, they see any Reason) to condemn as peremtorily; for we cannot get out of an Error too soon.

_RUAEUS_ say's, The Pastoral Sentiments must have a Connection Plain and Easy. Affirming that tho' Incoherence, may add a neglegence and simple loosness to Pastoral, yet 'tis not such a Negligence or Simplicity as Pastoral delight's in.

_DRYDEN_ observe's, that the Dialect proper for Pastoral, must have a Relish of the Fascion of speaking in the Country.

_FONTENELL_ that most excellent _Frenchman_ takes Notice, that no Passion is so proper for Pastoral as that of Love. He mean's as to what we are to describe in our Swains; not mentioning those Passions that Poem is to raise in the Reader.

_RAPIN_ observe's, The Fable should be One. The Swains not abusive, or full of Raillery. The Sence should not be extended or long. This Author has other Observations new, but you may guess of what a Nature, when he confesses He walk'd but as _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_ lead him. Therefore he cannot have carried the Poem to any Perfection beyond the Condition they left it in; and so much any Reader may see from the Authors themselves, without reading a large Volume to find it out.

Mr. _DRYDEN_, in another place, has an Observation which carrys the Knowledge of Pastoral still farther. Pastorals, says he, must contain an agreeable Variety after the manner of a Landscape.

But in the _GUARDIANS_, Vol. I. The Reader may see the Nature of Pastoral more explain'd and enter'd into, in a few Dissertations, than by all these Authors have deliver'd on the Subject. As these are Books in every Bodies Hands, I shall not trouble my self to extract the Summary of 'em. But he will find the Criticism on Phillips and the other Observations are extreamly Ingenious.

_Of the Parts of Pastoral; and of the several Sorts of that Poem_.

PASTORAL, in it's Imitation of the Lives of Shepherds, makes use of FABLE, CHARACTERS, SENTIMENTS and LANGUAGE; and by these four Parts conjoyntly obtain's it's End; that is, excites our Pity, or our Joy, or both. For in FABLE I include the MORAL; in SENTIMENTS both IMAGE and THOUGHT; and in LANGUAGE I comprehend the HARMONY.

These four Parts of PASTORAL would lead us into an easy and natural enumeration of the several Kinds or Sorts of that Poem: According as they have more or fewer of those Parts; and as they do or do not excite the Pastoral passions. Not that all those Kinds are perfect Pastorals, or even Poems, but only such as Authors have given us Examples of, from _THEOCRITUS_ and _VIRGIL_.

But I omit this Division for another more material. A Difference more fundamental, arises in the PASTORALS written by different AUTHORS, according to the Age which the Poet chuses to describe, or the different Descriptions which he gives us of the COUNTRY. For he may draw it as 'tis suppos'd to have been in the Golden Age; or be may describe his own COUNTRY, but touching only what is agreable in it; or lastly, may depaint the Life of Swains exactly as it is, their Fatigues and Pleasures being equally blended together. And this, last Kind most Writers have given into; for _Theocritus's_ rude unmanner'd Muse (as many Criticks have stiled it, not much amiss) naturally led him into this Method; and then, tis easy to conceive why the latter Pastoral-Writers chose the same.

But as the second Method is plainly more delightful than the last, as it collect's the most beautiful Images and sweetest Thoughts the Country afford's; so I shall show that 'tis preferable on many other Accounts; and even finer for Pastoral than the Golden Age. But this when I speak of the Characters.

I would only settle now in short the most compleat Kind of Pastoral; And such, I think, is that which most beautifully draw's the present Life of Shepherds, and raises Pity or Joy, by the four Parts of Pastoral, Fable, Characters, Sentiments, and Language. And since 'tis these which constitute a perfect Pastoral, I shall crave leave to speak separately of 'em all. And first of the Fable.

_Of the Fable; and the means of making a perfect One_.

A Fable proper for Pastoral, and best adapted to delight, must have these following Qualities to render It compleat.

_First_, It must be one entire _Action_, having a Beginning, a Middle, and an End.

_Secondly_, A perfect _Fable_ must have a due _Length_. And not consist of only a mournful Speech which a Shepherd find's occasion to make; or the like.

_Thirdly_, And since all Poetry is an Imitation of the most Considerable, or the most Delightful Actions in the Person's Life we undertake; not any trifling Action can be sufficient to constitute the _Fable_.

_Fourthly_, Another Quality which a Pastoral Fable should have to be the most compleat is a _Moral Result_.

I shall speak to all these Heads, except the first, concerning the _Unity_; for without that Quality, it's self-evident that 'tis no Fable. By _Unity_ I mean the same with Aristotle.[A]

[Footnote A: _See his 6th Chapter_.]

_What Length a perfect Pastoral should have_.

All _Pastoral-Writers_ have used the same _Length_ which _Theocritus_ at first happen'd into. I shall be therefore obliged, I doubt, to dwell longer, on this Head, than the Importance of it may seem to require; and must premise, that tho' a _Fable_ would need, finely carry'd on, to be three or four Hundred Lines, yet let no Writer be under any Concern about this: If a _Fable_ have Unity, shews a delightful story, paints proper Characters, and contains a Moral, I shall not doubt to call the Poem a perfect and compleat _Pastoral_, tho' the Length exceeds not fifty Lines. But my Reasons for extending it are these:

Some Author I have seen, ingeniously observes, that even in telling common Stories, 'twere best to give some short Account of the Persons first, to be heard with Delight and Attention; For, says he, 'tis not so much this being said, but its being said on such a particular Occasion, or by such a particular Person. As this is true in a common Story, so 'tis more so in a Poem. The strongest Pleasure that the Mind receives from Poetry, flows from its being engaged and concerned in the Progress and Event of the Story. We naturally side in Parties, and interest our selves in their Affairs of one side or the other. Then 'tis, our Care pursues our Favourite Character, where're he goes. We anticipate all his Successes, and make his Misfortunes our own. Were the Catastrophe in a Tragedy to appear in the first Act, but little should we be moved by it, not having as yet imbibed a favourable Opinion of the Hero, nor learn'd to be in Pain as often as he is in Danger.

Now, we may read, I fear, some Number of the _Pastorals_ of the ordinary Length, before we shall meet with this Pleasure. The Truth is, we are commonly past a hundred Lines, the length of these Pieces, before the Mind and Attention is entirely fix'd, and has lost all its former and external Thoughts. All the Pleasure therefore which proceeds from the Story is lost in these short Pieces.

'Tis true Indeed, I think it possible for a Novel, or perhaps a Poem, to contain a Story in a hundred Lines which shall be able to engage the Mind so as to delight it from the _fable_ it self, stript of all its Ornaments. But how few in a hundred Ages have had Genius's capable of this. And if 'tis difficult in a Novel or Poem, which may couch the Circumstances close together, how much more Difficult must it be in _Pastoral_. In the former Pieces nothing is to be observed but the Story itself, in the latter a thousand Beauties are to be adjoyn'd and as many Rules observ'd.

_The proper Length of Pastoral further collected from the Consideration of the_ Characters.

Another Pleasure which the brevity of these Pieces robs us of, is this. The Characters cannot finely and distinctly be depainted in so short a Compass. And 'tis observable, we are concern'd for the Personages in no Poetry so much as those of Pastoral. Simplicity and Innocence have Charms for every Mind, and we pity most, where most our Pity's wanted.

So that the two noblest Beauties, and which constitute the main Difference between Poetry and Versification, between a perfect Poem and a Madrigal, Epigram or Elegy, are entirely lost in those Pieces, and the only Pleasure they can raise, must proceed alone from Sentiment and Diction.

_The Length of Pastoral, yet further shown from the Passions it raises_.

In every rational and consistent Piece, the Writer has some Aim in View; as, to work every thing up to one End and a Moral Result; or to excite some Passion, or the like. Otherwise it is but an Assay of Wit, a Flirt of the Imagination, and no more. Too trifling to detain the rational Mind. Now, that these short Pieces are not capable of having a Moral, or raising any Passion, I need trouble my self for no other Proof than there never having been such one produced.

But give me leave to instance in the usual Method of forming a Pastoral. One Shepherd meets another; tells him some body is dead; upon which, they begin the mournful Dialogue, or Elegy. But in such an Elegy, there is but one thing can raise a fine Pleasure; which can be the only solid Reason for the Writers performing such a Work; and that is the raising Pity, without which no End is obtain'd by such a Dialogue. And 'tis only a School-Boy tryal of Wit; like a single Description. Unless the Poet think's it enough that the Scene is laid in the Country, and the very Talk of Shepherds is enough to support a Piece. And the truth is, of a Nature so exceeding pleasant is Pastoral, that a Piece which has but Fields and Hedges repeated pretty often in it, is at least tolerable; whereas in any other Poetry, we see every day far better Poems cast out of the World as soon as they enter into it. But another reason of their Success proceeds from the little Knowledge most People have of Pastoral; all Poets having gone in exactly the same Track, without one endeavouring to raise the Poem to any greater Perfection than they found it in; whereas Epick Poetry, Tragedy, and Comedy, arriv'd by slow degrees to the Perfection they now bear; and this Writer still went beyond the last of an equal Genius.

But I was going to give an Instance how incapable these Pieces are of raising the Passions. A mournful Dialogue, or Elegy is formed upon the Death of some Person. But if this Elegy raises not our Pity, 'tis a Trifle, and only a childish Copy of Verses. But in order to raise that most delightful Passion, should not the Reader be first prepossess'd in favour of the Party dead? Can I pity a Person because deceas'd, without knowing any thing of his while alive?

'Tis the same in that other well-known way of drawing up a Pastoral. I mean, where two Shepherds sing alternately. _Theocritus_ haply light upon this, and every Pastoral Writer since his time, (that I have seen) has been so unfortunate as to happen exactly upon the same. And I believe it has as often been indifferent to the Readers which of the Shepherds overcame. Our Joy in this Case is equal to our Grief in the other.

_From the length by Nature prescribed to all Pieces, Epick, Tragick, &c. is shown, That Pastoral will, at least, admit of the Length of three or four hundred Lines_.

Thus far of the Necessity of extending a Pastoral to the Length of three or four hundred Lines, if we would not deprive our selves of the Opportunities of being as delightful as Poetry will permit. But if any Commentator, who think's himself oblig'd to defend _Theocritus_ and _Virgil_ in every particular, should not only not allow this Length to be preferable, but even condemn it as faulty, it would oblige us to come more close to the Point, and to take the Question from the bottom. What is the Length by Nature fix'd for all Pieces? And why mayn't an Epick be as short as a Tragick Poem? Methink's a Poet should not be content to take these things on Trust, and tye himself down to Brevity or Length only because _Theocritus_ wrote short and _Homer_ long Pieces.

I have not Leisure to enter fully into this Question, but would recommend it to some Person who has, as a Subject that would prove as Entertaining to the Reader as the Writer. However, I shall speak just what I have at present in my Mind upon it.

Without considering Tragedy as drawn into Representation, it is plain it would not endure the Length of Epick Poetry, without being wearious in the Reading, for these Reasons among others: It's Nature is more heated and violent than the Epick Poem, and consists of only Dialogue; whereas the former has the Variety of Dialogue and Narration both. Besides, the under-actions which work up to the main Action in Heroick Poetry, are each as great and as different from each other, as the main Actions of different Tragedies.

Nor would Pastoral bear the Length of even Tragedy. For it admits not both those two kinds of Writing, the Sublime and the Beautiful, which are the most different of any in Nature, having only the last. But these two give so sweet a variety to the same Piece, when they are artfully blended together, that a good Tragedy or Epick Poem can never tire. Soon as we begin to be sated and cloy'd with Passion and Sublime Images, the Poet changes the Scene; all is, on a sudden soft and beautiful, and we seem in another World.

Yet is Pastoral by no means ty'd down by nature to the Length used by _Theocritus_ and all his Followers. 'Tis only Example has introduc'd that Method. For, 'tis a Poem capable of raising two Passions, and those tho' all consistent with one another, yet what raise Pleasures, the most widely different of any, in the Mind. When we have tir'd the Reader with a mournful and pitious Scene, we may relieve and divert his Mind with agreeable and joyous Images. And these the Poet may diversify and vary as often as he pleases. And so different are the Passions of Pity and Joy, that he may all thro' the Poem please in an equal Degree, yet all thro' the Poem in a different Manner.

Besides, this Poem changes the general Scene, which is more than even Tragedy does. A Poet who has form'd a perfect Notion of the Beautiful, and furnished his Mind with a sufficient number of delightful Images, before he set's down to write a Pastoral, will lead the Reader thro' so sweet a Variety of amusing scenes, and show so many beautiful Pictures to his Imagination, that he will never think the tenth Part of a Tragedy's Length too much for a Pastoral.