{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_36245/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_36245","id":"gutenberg_36245","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36245","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: History - Early Modern (c. 1450-1750)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Criticism","Renaissance"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Siobhan Hillman, Eleni Christofaki and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:\n\n  Minor spelling inconsistencies have been silently corrected. Apart\n  from a few corrections listed at the end of the book, original\n  spelling was retained. Footnotes were sequentially numbered and\n  placed at the end of each chapter.\n\n    p. 300: in the words carpenter, majesty and merchaundise\n    letters [e macron] and [u with breve] are encoded as plain\n    [e and u] respectively.\n    p. 303: in the words mournfully, mournfuly, royalty\n    letters [u with breve], [u, a macron] are encoded as plain [u and a]\n    respectively.\n    p. 304: in the words Trumpington, love-sik and dangerus letters\n    [i macron] and [i, u with breve] are encoded as plain [i and u]\n    respectively.\n    p. 321-322: superscripts are preceded by the [^] sign and enclosed in\n    braces if more than one letter is in superscript.\n    p. 354: in the word Pusan letters [u macron] and [s with cedilla]\n    are encoded as plain [u and s] respectively.\n    Ligature [oe] is encoded as oe.\n\n    Mark up: _italics_\n             =bold=\n             *font change*\n\n\n\n\n    *Columbia University*\n\n    _STUDIES IN LITERATURE_\n\n\n\n    |===============================================================|\n    |*Columbia University*                                          |\n    |                                                               |\n    |STUDIES IN LITERATURE                                          |\n    |                                                               |\n    |                                                               |\n    |                                                               |\n    |=A HISTORY OF LITERARY CRITICISM IN                            |\n    | THE RENAISSANCE=: With Special Reference                      |\n    | to the Influence of Italy in the Formation and                |\n    | Development of Modern Classicism. By JOEL                     |\n    | ELIAS SPINGARN.                                               |\n    |                                                               |\n    |                                                               |\n    |_In Press:_                                                    |\n    |                                                               |\n    |                                                               |\n    |=ROMANCES OF ROGUERY=: An Episode in the                       |\n    | Development of the Modern Novel, Part I.                      |\n    | The Picaresque Novel in Spain. By FRANK                       |\n    | WADLEIGH CHANDLER.                                            |\n    |                                                               |\n    |=SPANISH LITERATURE IN ENGLAND UNDER                           |\n    | THE TUDORS=. By JOHN GARRETT                                  |\n    | UNDERHILL.                                                    |\n    |                                                               |\n    |                                                               |\n    |       *       *       *       *       *                       |\n    |                                                               |\n    |***_Other numbers of this series will be issued from           |\n    |time to time, containing the results of literary research,     |\n    |or criticism by the students or officers of                    |\n    |Columbia University, or others associated with them            |\n    |in study, under the authorization of the Department            |\n    |of Literature_, GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY _and_                  |\n    |BRANDER MATTHEWS, _Professors_.                                |\n    |===============================================================|\n\n\n\n\n    A HISTORY\n\n    OF\n\n    LITERARY CRITICISM\n\n    IN THE RENAISSANCE\n\n    WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE INFLUENCE OF\n    ITALY IN THE FORMATION AND DEVELOPMENT\n    OF MODERN CLASSICISM\n\n\n    BY\n\n    JOEL ELIAS SPINGARN\n\n    [Illustration]\n\n    *New York*\n    PUBLISHED FOR THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS BY\n    THE MACMILLAN COMPANY\n    LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.\n\n    1899\n\n    _All rights reserved_\n\n\n\n\n    _COPYRIGHT_, 1899,\n\n    BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.\n\n\n    *Norwood Press*\n    J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith\n    Norwood Mass. U.S.A.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nTHIS essay undertakes to treat the history of literary criticism in the\nRenaissance. The three sections into which the essay is divided are\ndevoted, respectively, to Italian criticism from Dante to Tasso, to\nFrench criticism from Du Bellay to Boileau, and to English criticism\nfrom Ascham to Milton; but the critical activity of the sixteenth\ncentury has been the main theme, and the earlier or later literature has\nreceived treatment only in so far as it serves to explain the causes or\nconsequences of the critical development of this central period. It was\nat this epoch that modern criticism began, and that the ancient ideals\nof art seemed once more to sway the minds of men; so that the history of\nsixteenth-century criticism must of necessity include a study of the\nbeginnings of critical activity in modern Europe and of the gradual\nintroduction of the Aristotelian canons into modern literature.\n\nThis study has been made subservient, more particularly, to two specific\npurposes. While the critical activity of the period is important and\neven interesting in itself, it has been here studied primarily for the\npurpose of tracing the origin and causes of the classic spirit in\nmodern letters and of discovering the sources of the rules and theories\nembodied in the neo-classic literature of the seventeenth and eighteenth\ncenturies. How did the classic spirit arise? Whence did it come, and how\ndid it develop? What was the origin of the principles and precepts of\nneo-classicism? These are some of the questions I have attempted to\nanswer in this essay; and, in answering them, I have tried to remember\nthat this is a history, not of critical literature, but of literary\ncriticism. For this reason I have given to individual books and authors\nless prominence than some of them perhaps deserved, and have confined\nmyself almost exclusively to the origin of principles, theories, and\nrules, and to the general temper of classicism. For a similar reason I\nhave been obliged to say little or nothing of the methods and results of\napplied, or concrete, criticism.\n\nThis, then, has been the main design of the essay; but furthermore, as\nis indicated in the title, I have attempted to point out the part played\nby Italy in the growth of this neo-classic spirit and in the formulation\nof these neo-classic principles. The influence of the Italian\nRenaissance in the development of modern science, philosophy, art, and\ncreative literature has been for a long time the subject of much study.\nIt has been my more modest task to trace the indebtedness of the modern\nworld to Italy in the domain of literary criticism; and I trust that I\nhave shown the Renaissance influence to be as great in this as in the\nother realms of study. The birth of modern criticism was due to the\ncritical activity of Italian humanism; and it is in sixteenth-century\nItaly that we shall find, more or less matured, the general spirit and\neven the specific principles of French classicism. The second half of\nthe design, then, is the history of the Italian influence in literary\ncriticism; and with Milton, the last of the humanists in England, the\nessay naturally closes. But we shall find, I think, that the influence\nof the Italian Renaissance in the domain of literary criticism was not\neven then all decayed, and that Lessing and Shelley, to mention no\nothers, were the legitimate inheritors of the Italian tradition.\n\nThis essay was submitted to the Faculty of Philosophy, Columbia\nUniversity, in partial fulfillment of the requirements of the degree of\nDoctor of Philosophy. The bibliography at the end of the essay indicates\nsufficiently my obligations to preceding writers. It has been prepared\nchiefly for the purpose of facilitating reference to works cited in the\ntext and in the foot-notes, and should be consulted for the full titles\nof books therein mentioned; it makes no pretence of being a complete\nbibliography of the subject. It will be seen that the history of Italian\ncriticism in the sixteenth century has received scarcely any attention\nfrom modern scholars. In regard to Aristotle's _Poetics_, I have used\nthe text, and in general followed the interpretation, given in Professor\nS. H. Butcher's _Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art_, a noble\nmonument of scholarship vivified by literary feeling. I desire also to\nexpress my obligations to Professor Butcher for an abstract of\nZabarella, to Mr. P. O. Skinner of Harvard for an analysis of Capriano,\nto my friend, Mr. F. W. Chandler, for summaries of several early English\nrhetorical treatises, and to Professor Cavalier Speranza for a few\ncorrections; also to my friends, Mr. J. G. Underhill, Mr. Lewis\nEinstein, and Mr. H. A. Uterhart, and to my brother, Mr. A. B. Spingarn,\nfor incidental assistance of some importance.\n\nBut, above all, I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to Professor\nGeorge E. Woodberry. This book is the fruit of his instruction; and in\nwriting it, also, I have had recourse to him for assistance and\ncriticism. Without the aid so kindly accorded by him, the book could\nhardly have been written, and certainly would never have assumed its\npresent form. But my obligations to him are not limited to the subject\nor contents of the present essay. Through a period of five years the\ninspiration derived from his instruction and encouragement has been so\ngreat as to preclude the possibility of its expression in a preface.\n_Quare habe tibi quidquid hoc libelli._\n\n    NEW YORK,\n     March, 1899.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n    PART FIRST\n\n    _LITERARY CRITICISM IN ITALY_\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\n    I. THE FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM OF RENAISSANCE CRITICISM                3\n        i. Mediaeval Conceptions of Poetry.\n       ii. The Moral Justification of Poetry.\n      iii. The Final Justification of Poetry.\n\n    II. THE GENERAL THEORY OF POETRY IN THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE       24\n        i. Poetry as a Form of Scholastic Philosophy.\n       ii. Poetry as an Imitation of Life.\n      iii. The Function of Poetry.\n\n    III. THE THEORY OF THE DRAMA                                      60\n        i. The Subject of Tragedy.\n       ii. The Function of Tragedy.\n      iii. The Characters of Tragedy.\n       iv. The Dramatic Unities.\n        v. Comedy.\n\n    IV. THE THEORY OF EPIC POETRY                                    107\n        i. The Theory of the Epic Poem.\n       ii. Epic and Romance.\n\n    V. THE GROWTH OF THE CLASSIC SPIRIT IN ITALIAN CRITICISM         125\n        i. Humanism.\n       ii. Aristotelianism.\n      iii. Rationalism.\n\n    VI. ROMANTIC ELEMENTS IN ITALIAN CRITICISM                       155\n        i. The Ancient Romantic Element.\n       ii. Mediaeval Elements.\n      iii. Modern Elements.\n\n\n    PART SECOND\n\n    _LITERARY CRITICISM IN FRANCE_\n\n    I. THE CHARACTER AND DEVELOPMENT OF FRENCH\n    CRITICISM IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY                               171\n        i. Character.\n       ii. Development.\n\n    II. THE THEORY OF POETRY IN THE FRENCH RENAISSANCE               190\n        i. The Poetic Art.\n       ii. The Drama.\n      iii. Heroic Poetry.\n\n    III. CLASSIC AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS IN FRENCH\n    CRITICISM DURING THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY                           214\n        i. Classical Elements.\n       ii. Romantic Elements.\n\n    IV. THE FORMATION OF THE CLASSIC IDEAL IN THE\n    SEVENTEENTH CENTURY                                              232\n        i. The Romantic Revolt.\n       ii. The Reaction against the Pleiade.\n      iii. The Second Influx of Italian Ideas.\n       iv. The Influence of Rationalistic Philosophy.\n\n\n    PART THIRD\n\n    _LITERARY CRITICISM IN ENGLAND_\n\n\n    I. THE EVOLUTION OF ENGLISH CRITICISM FROM\n    ASCHAM TO MILTON                                                 253\n\n    II. THE GENERAL THEORY OF POETRY IN THE ELIZABETHAN AGE          261\n\n    III. THE THEORY OF DRAMATIC AND HEROIC POETRY                    282\n        i. Tragedy.\n       ii. Comedy.\n      iii. The Dramatic Unities.\n       iv. Epic Poetry.\n\n    IV. CLASSICAL ELEMENTS IN ELIZABETHAN CRITICISM                  296\n        i. Introductory: Romantic Elements.\n       ii. Classical Metres.\n      iii. Other Evidences of Classicism.\n\n\n    APPENDICES                                                       312\n        A. Chronological Table of the Chief Critical\n             Works of the Sixteenth Century.\n        B. Salviati's Account of the Commentators on\n             Aristotle's _Poetics_.\n\n    BIBLIOGRAPHY                                                     317\n\n    INDEX                                                            325\n\n\n\n\nPART FIRST\n\n_LITERARY CRITICISM IN ITALY_\n\n\n\n\nLITERARY CRITICISM IN ITALY\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE FUNDAMENTAL PROBLEM OF RENAISSANCE CRITICISM\n\n\nTHE first problem of Renaissance criticism was the justification of\nimaginative literature. The existence and continuity of the aesthetic\nconsciousness, and perhaps, in a less degree, of the critical faculty,\nthroughout the Middle Ages, can hardly be denied; yet distrust of\nliterature was keenest among the very class of men in whom the critical\nfaculty might be presupposed, and it was as the handmaid of philosophy,\nand most of all as the vassal of theology, that poetry was chiefly\nvalued. In other words, the criteria by which imaginative literature was\njudged during the Middle Ages were not literary criteria. Poetry was\ndisregarded or contemned, or was valued if at all for virtues that least\nbelong to it. The Renaissance was thus confronted with the necessity of\njustifying its appreciation of the vast body of literature which the\nRevival of Learning had recovered for the modern world; and the function\nof Renaissance criticism was to reestablish the aesthetic foundations of\nliterature, to reaffirm the eternal lesson of Hellenic culture, and to\nrestore once and for all the element of beauty to its rightful place in\nhuman life and in the world of art.\n\n\nI. _Mediaeval Conceptions of Poetry_\n\nThe mediaeval distrust of literature was the result of several\ncooperating causes. Popular literature had fallen into decay, and in its\ncontemporary form was beneath serious consideration. Classical\nliterature was unfortunately pagan, and was moreover but imperfectly\nknown. The mediaeval Church from its earliest stages had regarded pagan\nculture with suspicion, and had come to look upon the development of\npopular literature as antagonistic to its own supremacy. But beyond\nthis, the distrust of literature went deeper, and was grounded upon\ncertain theoretical and fundamental objections to all the works of the\nimagination.\n\nThese theoretical objections were in nowise new to the Middle Ages. They\nhad been stated in antiquity with much more directness and philosophical\nefficacy than was possible in the mediaeval period. Plato had tried\nimaginative literature by the criteria of reality and morality, both of\nwhich are unaesthetic criteria, although fundamentally applicable to\npoetry. In respect to reality, he had shown that poetry is three removes\nfrom the truth, being but the imitation, by the artist, of the\nimitation, in life, of an idea in the mind of God. In respect to\nmorality, he had discovered in Homer, the greatest of poets, deviations\nfrom truth, blasphemy against the gods, and obscenity of various sorts.\nFurthermore, he had found that creative literature excites the emotions\nmore than does actual life, and stirs up ignoble passions which were\nbetter restrained.\n\nThese ideas ran throughout the Middle Ages, and indeed persisted even\nbeyond the Renaissance. Poetry was judged by these same criteria, but it\nwas natural that mediaeval writers should substitute more practical\nreasons for the metaphysical arguments of Plato. According to the\ncriterion of reality, it was urged that poetry in its very essence is\nuntrue, that at bottom it is fiction, and therefore false. Thus\nTertullian said that \"the Author of truth hates all the false; He\nregards as adultery all that is unreal.... He never will approve\npretended loves, and wraths, and groans, and tears;\"[1] and he affirmed\nthat in place of these pagan works there was in the Bible and the\nFathers, a vast body of Christian literature and that this is \"not\nfabulous, but true, not tricks of art, but plain realities.\"[2]\nAccording to the criterion of morality, it was urged that as few works\nof the imagination were entirely free from obscenity and blasphemy, such\nblemishes are inseparable from the poetic art; and accordingly, Isidore\nof Seville says that a Christian is forbidden to read the figments of\nthe poets, \"quia per oblectamenta inanium fabularum mentem excitant ad\nincentiva libidinum.\"[3]\n\nThe third, or psychological objection, made by Plato, was similarly\nemphasized. Thus Tertullian pointed out that while God has enjoined us\nto deal calmly and gently and quietly with the Holy Spirit, literature,\nand especially dramatic literature, leads to spiritual agitation.[4]\nThis point seemed to the mediaeval mind fundamental, for in real beauty,\nas Thomas Aquinas insisted, desire is quieted.[5] Furthermore, it was\nshown that the only body of literary work worthy of serious study dealt\nwith pagan divinities and with religious practices which were in direct\nantagonism to Christianity. Other objections, also, were incidentally\nalluded to by mediaeval writers. For example, it was said, the supreme\nquestion in all matters of life is the question of conduct, and it was\nnot apparent in what manner poetry conduces to action. Poetry has no\npractical use; it rather enervates men than urges them to the call of\nduty; and above all, there are more profitable occupations in which the\nrighteous man may be engaged.\n\nThese objections to literature are not characteristically mediaeval. They\nhave sprung up in every period of the world's history, and especially\nrecur in all ages in which ascetic or theological conceptions of life\nare dominant. They were stock questions of the Greek schools, and there\nare extant treatises by Maximus of Tyre and others on the problem\nwhether or not Plato was justified in expelling Homer from his ideal\ncommonwealth. The same objections prevailed beyond the Renaissance; and\nthey were urged in Italy by Savonarola, in Germany by Cornelius\nAgrippa, in England by Gosson and Prynne, and in France by Bossuet and\nother ecclesiastics.\n\n\nII. _The Moral Justification of Poetry_\n\nThe allegorical method of interpreting literature was the result of the\nmediaeval attempt to answer the objections just stated. This method owed\nits origin to the mode of interpreting the popular mythology first\nemployed by the Sophists and more thoroughly by the later Stoics. Such\nheroes as Hercules and Theseus, instead of being mere brute conquerors\nof monsters and giants, were regarded by the Stoic philosophers as\nsymbols of the early sages who had combated the vices and passions of\nmankind, and they became in the course of time types of pagan saints.\nThe same mode of interpretation was later applied to the stories of the\nOld Testament by Philo Judaeus, and was first introduced into Occidental\nEurope by Hilary of Poitiers and Ambrose, Bishop of Milan.[6] Abraham,\nAdam, Eve, Jacob, became types of various virtues, and the biblical\nstories were considered as symbolical of the various moral struggles in\nthe soul of man. The first instance of the systematic application of the\nmethod to the pagan myths occurs in the _Mythologicon_ of Fulgentius,\nwho probably flourished in the first half of the sixth century; and in\nhis _Virgiliana Continentia_, the _AEneid_ is treated as an image of\nlife, and the travels of AEneas as the symbol of the progress of the\nhuman soul, from nature, through wisdom, to final happiness.\n\nFrom this period, the allegorical method became the recognized mode of\ninterpreting literature, whether sacred or profane. Petrarch, in his\nletter, _De quibusdam fictionibus Virgilij_,[7] treats the _AEneid_ after\nthe manner of Fulgentius; and even at the very end of the Renaissance\nTasso interpreted his own romantic epics in the same way. After the\nacceptance of the method, its application was further complicated.\nGregory the Great ascribes three meanings to the Bible,--the literal,\nthe typical or allegorical, and the moral. Still later, a fourth meaning\nwas added; and Dante distinctly claims all four, the literal, the\nallegorical, the moral or philosophical, and the anagogical or mystical,\nfor his _Divine Comedy_.[8]\n\nThis method, while perhaps justifying poetry from the standpoint of\nethics and divinity, gives it no place as an independent art; thus\nconsidered, poetry becomes merely a popularized form of theology. Both\nPetrarch and Boccaccio regarded allegory as the warp and woof of poetry;\nbut they modified the mediaeval point of view by arguing conversely that\ntheology itself is a form of poetry,--the poetry of God. Both of them\ninsist that the Bible is essentially poetical, and that Christ himself\nspoke largely in poetical images. This point was so emphasized by\nRenaissance critics that Berni, in his _Dialogo contra i Poeti_ (1537),\ncondemns the poets for speaking of God as Jupiter and of the saints as\nMercury, Hercules, Bacchus, and for even having the audacity to call the\nprophets and the writers of the Scriptures poets and makers of\nverses.[9]\n\nThe fourteenth and fifteenth books of Boccaccio's treatise, _De\nGenealogia Deorum_, have been called \"the first defence of poesy in\nhonor of his own art by a poet of the modern world;\" but Boccaccio's\njustification of imaginative literature is still primarily based on the\nusual mediaeval grounds. The reality of poetry is dependent on its\nallegorical foundations; its moral teachings are to be sought in the\nhidden meanings discoverable beneath the literal expression; pagan\npoetry is defended for Christianity on the ground that the references to\nGreek and Roman gods and rituals are to be regarded only as symbolical\ntruths. The poet's function, for Boccaccio, as for Dante and Petrarch,\nwas to hide and obscure the actual truth behind a veil of beautiful\nfictions--_veritatem rerum pulchris velaminibus adornare._[10]\n\nThe humanistic point of view, in regard to poetry, was of a more\npractical and far-reaching nature than that of the Middle Ages. The\nallegorical interpretation did indeed continue throughout the\nRenaissance, and Mantuan, for example, can only define a poem as a\nliterary form which is bound by the stricter laws of metre, and which\nhas its fundamental truths hidden under the literal expressions of the\nfable. For still later writers, this mode of regarding literature seemed\nto present the only loophole of escape from the moral objections to\npoetry. But in employing the old method, the humanists carried it far\nbeyond its original application. Thus, Lionardo Bruni, in his _De\nStudiis et Literis_ (_c._ 1405), after dwelling on the allegorical\ninterpretation of the pagan myths, argues that when one reads the story\nof AEneas and Dido, he pays his tribute of admiration to the genius of\nthe poet, but the matter itself is known to be fiction, and so leaves no\nmoral impression.[11] By this Bruni means that fiction as such, when\nknown to be fiction, can leave no moral impression, and secondly, that\npoetry is to be judged by the success of the artist, and not by the\nefficacy of the moralist. Similarly, Battista Guarino, in his _De Ordine\nDocendi et Studendi_ (1459), says that we are not disturbed by the\nimpieties, cruelties, horrors, which we find in poetry; we judge these\nthings simply by their congruity with the characters and incidents\ndescribed. In other words, \"we criticise the artist, not the\nmoralist.\"[12] This is a distinct attempt at the aesthetic appreciation\nof literature, but while such ideas are not uncommon about this time,\nthey express isolated sentiments, rather than a doctrine strictly\ncoordinated with an aesthetic theory of poetry.\n\nThe more strict defence of poetry was attempted for the most part on\nthe grounds set forth by Horace in his _Ars Poetica_. At no period from\nthe Augustan Age to the Renaissance does the _Ars Poetica_ seem to have\nbeen entirely lost. It is mentioned or quoted, for example, by Isidore\nof Seville[13] in the sixth century, by John of Salisbury[14] in the\ntwelfth century, and by Dante[15] in the fourteenth. Horace insists on\nthe mingled instructiveness and pleasurableness of poetry; and beyond\nthis, he points out the value of poetry as a civilizing factor in\nhistory, regarding the early poets as sages and prophets, and the\ninventors of arts and sciences:--\n\n    \"Orpheus, inspired by more than human power,\n    Did not, as poets feigned, tame savage beasts,\n    But men as lawless and as wild as they,\n    And first dissuaded them from rage and blood.\n    Thus when Amphion built the Theban wall,\n    They feigned the stones obeyed his magic lute;\n    Poets, the first instructors of mankind,\n    Brought all things to their proper native use;\n    Some they appropriated to the gods,\n    And some to public, some to private ends:\n    Promiscuous love by marriage was restrained,\n    Cities were built, and useful laws were made;\n    So ancient is the pedigree of verse,\n    And so divine the poet's function.\"[16]\n\nThis conception of the early poet's function was an old one. It is to be\nfound in Aristophanes;[17] it runs through Renaissance criticism; and\neven in this very century, Shelley[18] speaks of poets as \"the authors\nof language, and of music, of the dance, and architecture, and statuary,\nand painting,\" as \"the institutors of laws, and the founders of civil\nsociety, and the inventors of the arts of life.\" To-day the idealist\ntakes refuge in the same faith: \"The tree of knowledge is of equal date\nwith the tree of life; nor were even the tamer of horses, the worker in\nmetals, or the sower, elder than those twin guardians of the soul,--the\npoet and the priest. Conscience and imagination were the pioneers who\nmade earth habitable for the human spirit.\"[19]\n\nIt was this ethical and civilizing function of poetry which was first in\nthe minds of the humanists. Action being the test of all studies,[20]\npoetry must stand or fall in proportion as it conduces to righteous\naction. Thus, Lionardo Bruni[21] speaks of poetry as \"so valuable an aid\nto knowledge, and so ennobling a source of pleasure\"; and AEneas Sylvius\nPiccolomini, in his treatise _De Liberorum Educatione_ (1450), declares\nthat the crucial question is not, Is poetry to be contemned? but, How\nare the poets to be used? and he solves his own question by asserting\nthat we are to welcome all that poets can render in praise of integrity\nand in condemnation of vice, and that all else is to be left\nunheeded.[22] Beyond this, the humanists urged in favor of poetry the\nfact of its antiquity and divine origin, and the further fact that it\nhad been praised by great men of all professions, and its creators\npatronized by kings and emperors from time immemorial.\n\nThere were then at the end of the Middle Ages, and the beginning of the\nRenaissance, two opposing tendencies in regard to the poetic art, one\nrepresenting the humanistic reverence for ancient culture, and for\npoetry as one of the phases of that culture, and the other representing\nnot only the mediaeval tradition, but a purism allied to that of early\nChristianity, and akin to the ascetic conceptions of life found in\nalmost every period. These two tendencies are expressed specifically in\ntheir noblest forms by the great humanist Poliziano, and the great moral\nreformer Savonarola. In the _Sylvae_, written toward the close of the\nfifteenth century, Poliziano dwells on the divine origin of poetry, as\nBoccaccio had done in his _Vita di Dante_; and then, after the manner of\nHorace, he describes its ennobling influence on man, and its general\ninfluence on the progress of civilization.[23] He then proceeds to\nsurvey the progress of poetry from the most ancient times, and in so\ndoing may be said to have written the first modern history of\nliterature. The second section of the _Sylvae_ discusses the bucolic\npoets; the third contains that glorification of Virgil which began\nduring the Middle Ages, and, continued by Vida and others, became in\nScaliger literary deification; and the last section is devoted to\nHomer, who is considered as the great teacher of wisdom, and the wisest\nof the ancients. Nowhere does Poliziano exhibit any appreciation of the\naesthetic value of poetry, but his enthusiasm for the great poets, and\nindeed for all forms of ancient culture, is unmistakable, and combined\nwith his immense erudition marks him as a representative poet of\nhumanism.[24]\n\nOn the other hand, the puristic conception of art is elaborated at great\nlength by Savonarola in an apology for poetry contained in his tractate,\n_De Divisione ac Utilitate Omnium Scientarum_,[25] written about 1492.\nAfter classifying the sciences in true scholastic fashion, and arranging\nthem according to their relative importance and their respective utility\nfor Christianity, he attacks all learning as superfluous and dangerous,\nunless restricted to a chosen few. Poetry, according to the scholastic\narrangement, is grouped with logic and grammar; and this mediaeval\nclassification fixes Savonarola's conception of the theory of poetic\nart. He expressly says that he attacks the abuse of poetry and not\npoetry itself, but there can be no doubt that, at bottom, he was\nintolerant of creative literature. Like Plato, like moral reformers of\nall ages, he feared the free play of the imaginative faculty; and in\nconnecting poetry with logic he was tending toward the elimination of\nthe imagination in art. The basis of his aesthetic system, such as it is,\nrests wholly on that of Thomas Aquinas;[26] but he is in closer accord\nwith Aristotle when he points out that versification, a merely\nconventional accompaniment of poetry, is not to be confounded with the\nessence of poetry itself. This distinction is urged to defend the\nScriptures, which he regards as the highest and holiest form of poetry.\nFor him poetry is coordinate with philosophy and with thought; but in\nhis intolerance of poetry in its lower forms, he would follow Plato in\nbanishing poets from an ideal state. The imitation of the ancient poets\nespecially falls under his suspicion, and in an age given up to their\nworship he denies both their supremacy and their utility. In fine, as a\nreformer, he represents for us the religious reaction against the\npaganization of culture by the humanists. But the forces against him\nwere too strong. Even the Christianization of culture effected during\nthe next century by the Council of Trent was hardly more than temporary.\nHumanism, which represents the revival of ancient pagan culture, and\nrationalism, which represents the growth of the modern spirit in science\nand art, were currents too powerful to be impeded by any reformer,\nhowever great, and, when combined in classicism, were to reign supreme\nin literature for centuries to come. But Savonarola and Poliziano serve\nto indicate that modern literary criticism had not yet begun. For until\nsome rational answer to the objections urged against poetry in\nantiquity and in the Middle Ages was forthcoming, literary criticism in\nany true sense was fundamentally impossible; and that answer came only\nwith the recovery of Aristotle's _Poetics_.\n\n\nIII. _The Final Justification of Poetry_\n\nThe influence of Aristotle's _Poetics_ in classical antiquity, so far as\nit is possible to judge, was very slight; there is no apparent reference\nto the _Poetics_ in Horace, Cicero, or Quintilian,[27] and it was\nentirely lost sight of during the Middle Ages. Its modern transmission\nwas due almost exclusively to Orientals.[28] The first Oriental version\nof Aristotle's treatise appears to have been that made by Abu-Baschar, a\nNestorian Christian, from the Syriac into Arabic, about the year 935.\nTwo centuries later, the Moslem philosopher Averroes made an abridged\nversion of the _Poetics_, which was translated into Latin in the\nthirteenth century, by a certain German, named Hermann, and again, by\nMantinus of Tortosa in Spain, in the fourteenth century. Hermann's\nversion seems to have circulated considerably in the Middle Ages, but it\nhad no traceable influence on critical literature whatsoever. It is\nmentioned and censured by Roger Bacon, but the _Poetics_ in any form was\nprobably unknown to Dante, to Boccaccio, and beyond a single obscure\nreference, to Petrarch. There is no question that for a long time before\nthe beginning of the sixteenth century the _Poetics_ had been entirely\nneglected. Not only do the critical ideas of this period show no\nindication of Aristotelian influence, but during the sixteenth century\nitself there seems to have been a well-defined impression that the\n_Poetics_ had been recovered only after centuries of oblivion. Thus,\nBernardo Segni, who translated the _Poetics_ into Italian in 1549,\nspeaks of it as \"abandoned and neglected for a long time\";[29] and\nBernardo Tasso, some ten years later, refers to it as \"buried for so\nlong a time in the obscure shadows of ignorance.\"[30]\n\nIt was then as a new work of Aristotle that the Latin translation by\nGiorgio Valla, published at Venice in 1498, must have appeared to\nValla's contemporaries. Though hardly successful as a work of\nscholarship, this translation, and the Greek text of the _Poetics_\npublished in the Aldine _Rhetores Graeci_ in 1508, had considerable\ninfluence on dramatic literature, but scarcely any immediate influence\non literary criticism. Somewhat later, in 1536, Alessandro de' Pazzi\npublished a revised Latin version, accompanied by the original; and from\nthis time, the influence of the Aristotelian canons becomes manifest in\ncritical literature. In 1548, Robortelli produced the first critical\nedition of the _Poetics_, with a Latin translation and a learned\ncommentary, and in the very next year the first Italian translation was\ngiven to the world by Bernardo Segni. From that day to this the\neditions and translations of the _Poetics_ have increased beyond number,\nand there is hardly a single passage in Aristotle's treatise which has\nnot been discussed by innumerable commentators and critics.\n\nIt was in Aristotle's _Poetics_ that the Renaissance was to find, if not\na complete, at least a rational justification of poetry, and an answer\nto every one of the Platonic and mediaeval objections to imaginative\nliterature. As to the assertion that poetry diverges from actual\nreality, Aristotle[31] contended that there is to be found in poetry a\nhigher reality than that of mere commonplace fact, that poetry deals not\nwith particulars, but with universals, and that it aims at describing\nnot what has been, but what might have been or ought to be. In other\nwords, poetry has little regard for the actuality of the specific event,\nbut aims at the reality of an eternal probability. It matters not\nwhether Achilles or AEneas did this thing, or that thing, which Homer or\nVirgil ascribes to either, but if Achilles or AEneas was such a man as\nthe poet describes, he must necessarily act as Homer or Virgil has made\nhim do. It is needless to say that Aristotle is here simply\ndistinguishing between ideal truth and actual fact, and in asserting\nthat it is the function of poetry to imitate only ideal truth he laid\nthe foundations, not only of an answer to mediaeval objections, but also\nof modern aesthetic criticism.\n\nBeyond this, poetry is justified on the grounds of morality, for while\nnot having a distinctly moral aim, it is essentially moral, because it\nis this ideal representation of life, and an idealized version of human\nlife must necessarily present it in its moral aspects. Aristotle\ndistinctly combats the traditional Greek conception of the didactic\nfunction of poetry; but it is evident that he insists fundamentally that\nliterature must be moral, for he sternly rebukes Euripides several times\non grounds that are moral, rather than purely aesthetic. In answer to the\nobjection that poetry, instead of calming, stirs and excites our meanest\npassions, that it \"waters and cherishes those emotions which ought to\nwither with drought, and constitutes them our rulers, when they ought to\nbe our subjects,\"[32] Aristotle taught those in the Renaissance who were\nable to understand him, that poetry, and especially dramatic poetry,\ndoes not indeed starve the emotions, but excites them only to allay and\nto regulate them, and in this aesthetic process purifies and ennobles\nthem.[33] In pointing out these things he has justified the utility of\npoetry, regarding it as more serious and philosophic than history,\nbecause it universalizes mere fact, and imitates life in its noblest\naspects.\n\nThese arguments were incorporated into Renaissance criticism; they were\nemphasized, as we shall see, over and over again, and they formed the\nbasis of the justification of poetry in modern critical literature. At\nthe same time, this purely aesthetic conception of art did not prevail by\nitself in the sixteenth century, even in those for whom Aristotle meant\nmost, and who best understood his meaning; the Horatian elements, also,\nas found in the early humanists, were elaborated and discussed. In the\n_Poetica_ of Daniello (1536), these Horatian elements form the basis for\na defence of poetry[34] that has many marked resemblances to various\npassages in Sir Philip Sidney's _Defence of Poesy_. After referring to\nthe antiquity and nobility of poetry, and affirming that no other art is\nnobler or more ancient, Daniello shows that all things known to man, all\nthe secrets of God and nature, are described by the poets in musical\nnumbers and with exquisite ornament. He furthermore asserts, in the\nmanner of Horace, that the poets were the inventors of the arts of life;\nand in answer to the objection that it was the philosophers who in\nreality did these things, he shows that while instruction is more proper\nto the philosopher than to the poet, poets teach too, in many more ways,\nand far more pleasantly, than any philosopher can. They hide their\nuseful teachings under various fictions and fabulous veils, as the\nphysician covers bitter medicine with a sweet coating. The style of the\nphilosopher is dry and obscure, without any force or beauty by itself;\nand the delightful instruction of poetry is far more effective than the\nabstract and harsh teachings of philosophy. Poetry, indeed, was the only\nform of philosophy that primitive men had, and Plato, while regarding\nhimself as an enemy of poets, was really a great poet himself, for he\nexpresses all his ideas in a wondrously harmonious rhythm, and with\ngreat splendor of words and images. This defence of Daniello's is\ninteresting, as anticipating the general form of such apologies\nthroughout the sixteenth century.\n\nSimilarly, Minturno in his _De Poeta_ (1559), elaborates the Horatian\nsuggestions for a defence of poetry. He begins by pointing out the broad\ninclusiveness of poetry, which may be said to comprehend in itself every\nform of human learning, and by showing that no form of learning can be\nfound before the first poets, and that no nation, however barbarous, has\never been averse to poetry. The Hebrews praised God in verse; the\nGreeks, Italians, Germans, and British have all honored poetry; the\nPersians have had their Magi and the Gauls their bards. Verse, while not\nessential to poetry, gives the latter much of its delightful\neffectiveness, and if the gods ever speak, they certainly speak in\nverse; indeed, in primitive times it was in verse that all sciences,\nhistory, and philosophy were written.[35]\n\nTo answer the traditional objections against imaginative literature\nwhich had survived beyond the Middle Ages seemed to the Renaissance a\nsimpler task, however, than to answer the more philosophical objections\nurged in the Platonic dialogues. The authority of Plato during the\nRenaissance made it impossible to slight the arguments stated by him in\nthe _Republic_, and elsewhere. The writers of this period were\nparticularly anxious to refute, or at least to explain away, the reasons\nfor which Plato had banished poets from his ideal commonwealth.\nSome critics, like Bernardo Tasso[36] and Daniello,[37] asserted that\nPlato had not argued against poetry itself, but only against the abuse\nof poetry. Thus, according to Tasso, only impure and effeminate poets\nwere to be excluded from the ideal state, and according to Daniello,\nonly the more immoral tragic poets, and especially the authors of\nobscene and lampooning comedies. Other Renaissance writers, like\nMinturno[38] and Fracastoro,[39] answered the Platonic objections on\nmore philosophical grounds. Thus Fracastoro answers Plato's charge that,\nsince poetry is three removes from ideal truth, poets are fundamentally\nignorant of the realities they attempt to imitate, by pointing out that\nthe poet is indeed ignorant of what he is speaking of, in so far as he\nis a versifier and skilled in language, just as the philosopher or\nhistorian is ignorant of natural or historical facts in so far as he,\ntoo, is merely skilled in language, but knows these facts in so far as\nhe is learned, and has thought out the problems of nature and history.\nThe poet, as well as the philosopher and the historian, must possess\nknowledge, if he is to teach anything; he, too, must learn the things he\nis going to write about, and must solve the problems of life and\nthought; he, too, must have a philosophical and an historical training.\nPlato's objection, indeed, applies to the philosopher, to the orator, to\nthe historian, quite as much as to the poet. As to Plato's second\ncharge, that imagination naturally tends toward the worst things, and\naccordingly that poets write obscenely and blasphemously, Fracastoro\npoints out that this is not the fault of the art, but of those who abuse\nit; there are, indeed, immoral and enervating poets, and they ought to\nbe excluded, not only from Plato's, but from every commonwealth. Thus\nvarious Aristotelian and Horatian elements were combined to form a\ndefinite body of Renaissance criticism.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[1] _De Spectac._ xxiii.\n\n[2] _Ibid._ xxii.\n\n[3] _Differentiae_, iii. 13, 1.\n\n[4] _De Spectac._ xv. _Cf._ Cyprian, _Epist. ad Donat._ viii.\n\n[5] _Cf._ Bosanquet, _Hist. of AEsthetic_, p. 148.\n\n[6] _Cf._ St. Augustine, _Confess._ v. 14, vi. 4; Clemens Alex.\n_Stromata_, v. 8.\n\n[7] _Opera_, p. 867.\n\n[8] _Cf._ Dante, _Epist._ xi. 7; _Convito_, ii. 1, 1.\n\n[9] Berni, p. 226 _sq._\n\n[10] Petrarch, _Opera_, p. 1205; _cf._ Boccaccio, _Gen. degli Dei_, p.\n250, v.\n\n[11] Woodward, _Vittorino da Feltre_, p. 132.\n\n[12] _Ibid._ p. 175.\n\n[13] _Etymologiae_, viii. 7, 5.\n\n[14] _Policraticus_, i. 8.\n\n[15] Moore, _Dante and his Early Biographers_, London, 1890, pp. 173,\n174.\n\n[16] _Ars Poet._ 391 (Roscommon).\n\n[17] _Frogs_, 1030 _sq._\n\n[18] _Defence of Poetry_, ed. Cook, p. 5.\n\n[19] Woodberry, \"A New Defence of Poetry,\" in _Heart of Man_, New York,\n1899, p. 76.\n\n[20] Woodward, p. 182 _sq._\n\n[21] _Ibid._ p. 131.\n\n[22] _Ibid._ p. 150.\n\n[23] Pope, _Selecta Poemata_, ii. 108; _cf._ _Ars Poet._ 398.\n\n[24] _Cf._ Gaspary, ii. 220.\n\n[25] Villari, p. 501 _sq._, and Perrens, ii. 328 _sq._\n\n[26] _Cf._ Cartier, _L'Esthetique de Savonarole_, in Didron's _Annales\nArcheologiques_, 1847, vii. 255 _sq._\n\n[27] Egger, 209 _sq._\n\n[28] _Ibid._ 555 _sq._\n\n[29] Segni, p. 160.\n\n[30] B. Tasso, _Lettere_, ii. 525. So also, Robortelli, 1548, \"Jacuit\nliber hic neglectus, ad nostra fere haec usque tempora.\"\n\n[31] _Poet._ ix.\n\n[32] Plato, _Rep._ x. 660.\n\n[33] _Poet._ vi. 2; _Pol._ viii. 7.\n\n[34] Daniello, p. 10 _sq._\n\n[35] _De Poeta_, p. 13 _sq._\n\n[36] _Lettere_, ii. 526.\n\n[37] _Poetica_, p. 14 _sq._\n\n[38] _De Poeta_, p. 30 _sq._\n\n[39] _Opera_, i. 361 _sq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE GENERAL THEORY OF POETRY IN THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE\n\n\nIN the first book of his _Geography_ Strabo defines poetry as \"a kind of\nelementary philosophy, which introduces us early to life, and gives us\npleasurable instruction in reference to character, emotion, action.\"\nThis passage sounds the keynote of the Renaissance theory of poetry.\nPoetry is therein stated to be a form of philosophy, and, moreover, a\nphilosophy whose subject is life, and its object is said to be\npleasurable instruction.\n\n\nI. _Poetry as a Form of Scholastic Philosophy_\n\nIn the first place, poetry is a form of philosophy. Savonarola had\nclassed poetry with logic and grammar, and had asserted that a knowledge\nof logic is essential to the composing of poetry. The division of the\nsciences and the relative importance of each were a source of infinite\nscholastic discussion during the Middle Ages. Aristotle had first placed\ndialectic or logic, rhetoric, and poetics in the same category of\nefficient philosophy. But Averroes was probably the first to confuse the\nfunction of poetics with that of logic, and to make the former a\nsubdivision, or form, of the latter; and this classification appears to\nhave been accepted by the scholastic philosophers of the Middle Ages.\n\nThis conception of the position of poetry in the body of human knowledge\nmay be found, however, throughout the Renaissance. Thus, Robortelli, in\nhis commentary on Aristotle's _Poetics_ (1548), gives the usual\nscholastic distinctions between the various forms of the written or\nspoken word (_oratio_): the demonstrative, which deals with the true;\nthe dialectic, which deals with the probable; the rhetorical, with the\npersuasive; and the poetic, with the false or fabulous.[40] By the term\n\"false\" or \"fabulous\" is meant merely that the subject of poetry is not\nactual fact, but that it deals with things as they ought to be, rather\nthan as they are. Varchi, in his public lectures on poetry (1553),\ndivides philosophy into two forms, real and rational. Real philosophy\ndeals with things, and includes metaphysics, ethics, physics, geometry,\nand the like; while rational philosophy, which includes logic,\ndialectic, rhetoric, history, poetry, and grammar, deals not with\nthings, but with words, and is not philosophy proper, but the instrument\nof philosophy. Poetry is therefore, strictly speaking, neither an art\nnor a science, but an instrument or faculty; and it is only an art in\nthe sense that it has been reduced to rules and precepts. It is, in\nfact, a form of logic, and no man, according to Varchi, can be a poet\nunless he is a logician; the better logician he is, the better poet he\nwill be. Logic and poetry differ, however, in their matter and their\ninstruments; for the subject of logic is truth, arrived at by means of\nthe demonstrative syllogism, while the subject of poetry is fiction or\ninvention, arrived at by means of that form of the syllogism known as\nthe example. Here the enthymeme, or example, which Aristotle has made\nthe instrument of rhetoric, becomes the instrument of poetry.\n\nThis classification survived in the Aristotelian schools at Padua and\nelsewhere as late as Zabarella and Campanella. Zabarella, a professor of\nlogic and later of philosophy at Padua from 1564 to 1589, explains at\nlength Averroes's theory that poetics is a form of logic, in a treatise\non the nature of logic, published in 1578.[41] He concludes that the two\nfaculties, logic and poetics, are not instruments of philosophy in\ngeneral, but only of a part of it, for they refer rather to action than\nto knowledge; that is, they come under Aristotle's category of efficient\nphilosophy. They are not the instruments of useful art or of moral\nphilosophy, the end of which is to make one's self good; but of civil\nphilosophy, the end of which is to make others good. If it be objected\nthat they are [Greek: ton enantion], that is, of both good and evil, it\nmay be answered that their proper end is good. Thus, in the _Symposium_,\nthe true poet is praised; while in the _Republic_ the poets who aim at\npleasure and who corrupt their audiences are censured; and Aristotle in\nhis definition of tragedy says that the end of tragedy is to purge the\npassions and to correct the morals of men (_affectiones animi purgare et\nmores corrigere_).\n\nEven later than Zabarella, we find in the _Poetica_ of Campanella a\ndivision of the sciences very similar to that of Savonarola and Varchi.\nTheology is there placed at the head of all knowledge, in accordance\nwith the mediaeval tradition, while poetics, with dialectic, grammar, and\nrhetoric, is placed among the logical sciences. Considering _poetica_ as\na form of philosophy, another commentator on Aristotle, Maggi (1550),\ntakes great pains to distinguish its various manifestations. _Poetica_\nis the art of composing poetry, _poesis_, the poetry composed according\nto this art, _poeta_, the composer of poetry, and _poema_, a single\nspecimen of poetry.[42] This distinction is an elaboration of two\npassages in Plutarch and Aphthonius.\n\n\nII. _Poetry as an Imitation of Life_\n\nIn the second place, according to the passage from Strabo cited at the\nbeginning of this chapter, poetry introduces us early to life, or, in\nother words, its subject is human action, and it is what Aristotle calls\nit, an imitation of human life. This raises two distinct problems.\nFirst, what is the meaning of imitation? and what in life is the\nsubject-matter of this imitation?\n\nThe conception of imitation held by the critics of the Renaissance was\nthat expressed by Aristotle in the ninth chapter of the _Poetics_. The\npassage is as follows:--\n\n     \"It is evident from what has been said that it is not the\n     function of the poet to relate what has happened, but what may\n     happen,--what is possible according to the law of probability\n     or necessity. The poet and the historian differ not by writing\n     in verse or in prose. The work of Herodotus might be put into\n     verse, and it would still be a species of history, with metre\n     no less than without it. The true difference is that one\n     relates what has happened, the other what may happen. Poetry,\n     therefore, is a more philosophical and a higher thing than\n     history; for poetry tends to express the universal, history the\n     particular. The universal tells us how a person of given\n     character will on occasion speak or act, according to the law\n     of probability or necessity; and it is this universality at\n     which poetry aims in giving expressive names to the\n     characters.\"\n\nIn this passage Aristotle has briefly formulated a conception of ideal\nimitation which may be regarded as universally valid, and which,\nrepeated over and over again, became the basis of Renaissance criticism.\n\nIn the _Poetica_ of Daniello (1536), occurs the first allusion in modern\nliterary criticism to the Aristotelian notion of ideal imitation.\nAccording to Daniello, the poet, unlike the historian, can mingle\nfictions with facts, because he is not obliged, as is the historian, to\ndescribe things as they actually are or have been, but rather as they\nought to be; and it is in this that the poet most differs from the\nhistorian, and not in the writing of verses; for even if Livy's works\nwere versified, they would still be histories as before.[43] This is of\ncourse almost a paraphrase of the passage in Aristotle; but that\nDaniello did not completely understand the ideal element in Aristotle's\nconception is shown by the further distinction which he draws between\nthe historian and the poet. For he adds that the poet and the historian\nhave much in common; in both there are descriptions of places, peoples,\nlaws; both contain the representation of vices and virtues; in both,\namplification, variety, and digressions are proper; and both teach,\ndelight, and profit at the same time. They differ, however, in that the\nhistorian, in telling his story, recounts it exactly as it happened, and\nadds nothing; whereas the poet is permitted to add whatever he desires,\nso long as the fictitious events have all the appearance of truth.\n\nSomewhat later, Robortelli treats the question of aesthetic imitation\nfrom another point of view. The poet deals with things as they ought to\nbe, but he can either appropriate actual fact, or he can invent his\nmaterial. If he does the former, he narrates the truth not as it really\nhappened, but as it might or ought to happen; while if he invents his\nmaterial, he must do so in accordance with the law of possibility, or\nnecessity, or probability and verisimilitude.[44] Thus Xenophon, in\ndescribing Cyrus, does not depict him as he actually was, but as the\nbest and noblest king can be and ought to be; and Cicero, in describing\nthe orator, follows the same method. From this it is evident that the\npoet can invent things transcending the order of nature; but if he does\nso, he should describe what might or ought to have been.\n\nHere Robortelli answers a possible objection to Aristotle's statement\nthat poets deal only with what is possible and verisimilar. Is it\npossible and verisimilar that the gods should eat ambrosia and drink\nnectar, as Homer describes, and that such a being as Cerberus should\nhave several heads, as we find in Virgil, not to mention various\nimprobable things that occur in many other poets? The answer to such an\nobjection is that poets can invent in two ways. They can invent either\nthings according to nature or things transcending nature. In the former\ncase, these things must be in keeping with the laws of probability and\nnecessity; but in the latter case, the things are treated according to a\nprocess described by Aristotle himself, and called paralogism, which\nmeans, not necessarily false reasoning, but the natural, if quite\ninconclusive, logical inference that the things we know not of are\nsubject to the same laws as the things we know. The poets accept the\nexistence of the gods from the common notion of men, and then treat all\nthat relates to these deities in accordance with this system of\nparalogism. In tragedy and comedy men are described as acting in\naccordance with the ordinary occurrences of nature; but in epic poetry\nthis is not entirely the case, and the marvellous is therefore admitted.\nAccordingly, this marvellous element has the widest scope in epic\npoetry; while in comedy, which treats of things nearest to our own time,\nit ought not to be admitted at all.\n\nBut there is another problem suggested by the passage from the _Poetics_\nwhich has been cited. Aristotle says that imitation, and not metre, is\nthe test of poetry; that even if a history were versified, it would\nstill remain history. The question then arises whether a writer who\nimitates in prose, that is, without verse, would be worthy of the title\nof poet. Robortelli answers this question by pointing out that metre\ndoes not constitute the nature, force, or essence of poetry, which\ndepends entirely on the fact of imitation; but at the same time, while\none who imitates without verse is a poet, in the best and truest poetry\nimitation and metre are combined.[45]\n\nIn Fracastoro's _Naugerius, sive de Poetica Dialogus_ (1555), there is\nthe completest explanation of the ideal element in the Aristotelian\nconception of imitation. The poet, according to Aristotle, differs from\nother writers in that the latter consider merely the particular, while\nthe poet aims at the universal. He is, in other words, attempting to\ndescribe the simple and essential truth of things, not by depicting the\nnude thing as it is, but the idea of things clothed in all their\nbeauties.[46] Here Fracastoro attempts to explain the Aristotelian\nconception of the type with the aid of the Platonic notion of beauty.\nThere were, in fact, in the Renaissance, three conceptions of beauty in\ngeneral vogue. First, the purely objective conception that poetry is\nfixed or formal, that it consists in approximating to a certain\nmechanical or geometrical form, such as roundness, squareness, or\nstraightness; secondly, the Platonic conception, ethical rather than\naesthetic, connecting the beautiful with the good, and regarding both as\nthe manifestation of divine power; and, thirdly, a more purely aesthetic\nconception of beauty, connecting it either with grace or conformity, or\nin a higher sense with whatever is proper or fitting to an object. This\nlast idea, which at times approaches the modern conception that beauty\nconsists in the realization of the objective character of any particular\nthing and in the fulfilment of the law of its own being, seems to have\nbeen derived from the _Idea_ of the Greek rhetorician Hermogenes, whose\ninfluence during the sixteenth century was considerable, even as early\nas the time of Filelfo. It was the celebrated rhetorician Giulio\nCammillo, however, who appears to have popularized Hermogenes in the\nsixteenth century, by translating the _Idea_ into Italian, and by\nexpounding it in a discourse published posthumously in 1544.\n\nAs will be seen, Fracastoro's conception of beauty approximates both to\nthe Platonic and to the more purely aesthetic doctrines which we have\nmentioned; and he expounds and elaborates this aesthetic notion in the\nfollowing manner. Each art has its own rules of proper expression. The\nhistorian or the philosopher does not aim at all the beauties or\nelegancies of expression, but only such as are proper to history or\nphilosophy. But to the poet no grace, no embellishment, no ornament, is\never alien; he does not consider the particular beauty of any one\nfield,--that is, the singular, or particular, of Aristotle,--but all\nthat pertains to the simple idea of beauty and of beautiful speech. Yet\nthis universalized beauty is no extraneous thing; it cannot be added to\nobjects in which it has no place, as a golden coat on a rustic; all the\nessential beauty of each species is to be the especial regard of the\npoet. For in imitating persons and things, he neglects no beauty or\nelegance which he can attribute to them; he strives only after the most\nbeautiful and most excellent, and in this way affects the minds of men\nin the direction of excellence and beauty.\n\nThis suggests a problem which is at the very root of Aristotle's\nconception of ideal imitation; and it is Fracastoro's high merit that he\nwas one of the first writers of the Renaissance to explain away the\nobjection, and to formulate in the most perfect manner what Aristotle\nreally meant. For, even granting that the poet teaches more than others,\nmay it not be urged that it is not what pertains to the thing itself,\nbut the beauties which he adds to them,--that it is ornament, extraneous\nto the thing itself (_extra rem_), and not the thing itself,--which\nseems to be the chief regard of the poet? But after all, what is _extra\nrem_? Are beautiful columns, domes, peristyles _extra rem_, because a\nthatched roof will protect us from rain and frost; or is noble raiment\n_extra rem_, because a rustic garment would suffice? The poet, so far\nfrom adding anything extraneous to the things he imitates, depicts them\nin their very essence; and it is because he alone finds the true beauty\nin things, because he attributes to them their true nobility and\nperfection, that he is more useful than any other writer. The poet does\nnot, as some think, deal with the false and the unreal.[47] He assumes\nnothing openly alien to truth, though he may permit himself to treat of\nold and obscure legends which cannot be verified, or of things which are\nregarded as true on account of their appearance, their allegorical\nsignification (such as the ancient myths and fables), or their common\nacceptance by men. So we may conclude that not every one who uses verse\nis a poet, but only he who is moved by the true beauty of things--by\ntheir simple and essential beauties, not merely apparent ones. This is\nFracastoro's conclusion, and it contains that mingling of Platonism and\nAristotelianism which may be found somewhat later in Tasso and Sir\nPhilip Sidney. It is the chief merit of Fracastoro's dialogue, that even\nwhile emphasizing this Platonic element, he clearly distinguishes and\ndefines the ideal element in aesthetic imitation.\n\nAbout the same time, in the public lectures of Varchi (1553), there was\nan attempt to formulate a more explicit definition of poetry on the\nbasis of Aristotle's definition[48] of tragedy. Poetry, according to\nVarchi, is an imitation of certain actions, passions, habits of mind,\nwith song, diction, and harmony, together or separately, for the purpose\nof removing the vices of men and inciting them to virtue, in order that\nthey may attain their true happiness and beatitude.[49] In the first\nplace, poetry is an imitation. Every poet imitates, and any one who does\nnot imitate cannot be called a poet. Accordingly, Varchi follows Maggi\nin distinguishing three classes of poets,--the poets _par excellence_,\nwho imitate in verse; the poets who imitate without using verse, such as\nLucian, Boccaccio in the _Decameron_, and Sannazaro in the _Arcadia_;\nand the poets, commonly but less properly so called, who use verse, but\nwho do not imitate. Verse, while not an essential attribute of poetry,\nis generally required; for men's innate love of harmony, according to\nAristotle, was one of the causes that gave rise to poetic composition.\nCertain forms of poetry however, such as tragedy, cannot be written\nwithout verse; for \"embellished language,\" that is, verse, is included\nin the very definition of tragedy as given by Aristotle.\n\nThe question whether poetry could be written in prose was a source of\nmuch discussion in the Renaissance; but the consensus of opinion was\noverwhelmingly against the prose drama. Comedy in prose was the usual\nItalian practice of this period, and various scholars[50] even sanction\nthe practice on theoretical grounds. But the controversy was not\nbrought to a head until the publication of Agostino Michele's _Discorso\nin cui si dimostra come si possono scrivere le Commedie e le Tragedie in\nProsa_ in 1592; and eight years later, in 1600, Paolo Beni published his\nLatin dissertation, _Disputatio in qua ostenditur praestare Comoediam\natque Tragoediam metrorum vinculis solvere_.[51] The language of Beni's\ntreatise was strong--its very title speaks of liberating the drama from\nthe shackles of verse; and for a heresy of this sort, couched as it was\nin language that might even have been revolutionary enough for the\nFrench romanticists of 1830, the sixteenth century was not yet fully\nprepared. Faustino Summo, answering Beni in the same year, asserts that\nnot only is it improper for tragedy and comedy to be written in prose,\nbut that no form of poetry whatever can properly be composed without the\naccompaniment of verse.[52] The result of the whole controversy was to\nfix the metrical form of the drama throughout the period of classicism.\nBut it need not be said that the same conclusion was not accepted by all\nfor every form of poetry. The remark of Cervantes in _Don Quixote_, that\nepics can be written in prose as well as in verse, is well known; and\nJulius Caesar Scaliger[53] speaks of Heliodorus's romance as a model\nepic.\n\nScaliger, however, regards verse as a fundamental part of poetry. For\nhim, poetry and history have the forms of narration and ornament in\ncommon, but differ in that poetry adds fictions to the things that are\ntrue, or imitates actual things with fictitious ones,--_majore sane\napparatu_, that is, among other things, with verse. As a result of this\nnotion, Scaliger asserts that if the history of Herodotus were\nversified, it would no longer be history, but historical poetry. Under\nno circumstances, theoretically, will he permit the separation of poetry\nfrom mere versification. He accordingly dismisses with contempt the\nusual argument of the period that Lucan was an historian rather than a\npoet. \"Take an actual history,\" says Scaliger; \"how does Lucan differ,\nfor example, from Livy? He differs in using verse. Well, then he is a\npoet.\" Poetry, then, is imitation in verse;[54] but in imitating what\nought to be rather than what is, the poet creates another nature and\nother fortunes, as if he were another God.[55]\n\nIt will be seen from these discussions that the Renaissance always\nconceived of aesthetic imitation in this ideal sense. There are scarcely\nany traces of realism, in anything like its modern sense, in the\nliterary criticism of this period. Torquato Tasso does indeed say that\nart becomes most perfect as it approaches most closely to nature;[56]\nand Scaliger declares that the dramatic poet must beyond all things aim\nat reproducing the actual conditions of life.[57] But it is the\nappearance of reality, and not the mere actuality itself, that the\ncritics are speaking of here. With the vast body of mediaeval literature\nbefore them, in which impossibilities follow upon impossibilities, and\nthe sense of reality is continually obscured, the critical writers of\nthe Renaissance were forced to lay particular stress on the element of\nprobability, the element of close approach to the seeming realities of\nlife; but the imitation of life is for them, nevertheless, an imitation\nof things as they ought to be--in other words, the imitation is ideal.\nMuzio says that nature is adorned by art:--\n\n    \"Suol far l' opere sue roze, e tra le mani\n    Lasciarle a l' arte, che le adorni e limi;\"[58]\n\nand he distinctly affirms that the poet cannot remain content with exact\nportraiture, with the mere actuality of life:--\n\n    \"Lascia 'l vero a l' historia, e ne' tuoi versi\n    Sotto i nomi privati a l' universo\n    Mostra che fare e che non far si debbia.\"\n\nIn keeping with this idealized conception of art, Muzio asserts that\neverything obscene or immoral must be excluded from poetry; and this\npuristic notion of art is everywhere emphasized in Renaissance\ncriticism. It was the _verisimile_, as has been said, that the writers\nof this period especially insisted upon. Poetry must have the appearance\nof truth, that is, it must be probable; for unless the reader believes\nwhat he reads, his spirit cannot be moved by the poem.[59] This\nanticipates Boileau's famous line:--\n\n    \"L'esprit n'est point emu de ce qu'il ne croit pas.\"[60]\n\nBut beyond and above the _verisimile_, the poet must pay special regard\nto the ethical element (_il lodevole e l' onesto_). A poet of the\nsixteenth century, Palingenius, says that there are three qualities\nrequired of every poem:--\n\n    \"Atqui scire opus est, triplex genus esse bonorum,\n    Utile, delectans, majusque ambobus honestum.\"[61]\n\nPoetry, then, is an ideal representation of life; but should it be still\nfurther limited, and made an imitation of only human life? In other\nwords, are the actions of men the only possible themes of poetry, or may\nit deal, as in the _Georgics_ and the _De Rerum Natura_, with the\nvarious facts of external nature and of science, which are only\nindirectly connected with human life? May poetry treat of the life of\nthe world as well as of the life of men; and if only of the latter, is\nit to be restricted to the actions of men, or may it also depict their\npassions, emotions, and character? In short, how far may external nature\non the one hand, and the internal working of the human soul on the other\nhand, be regarded as the subject-matter of poetry? Aristotle says that\npoetry deals with the actions of men, but he uses the word \"actions\" in\na larger sense than many of the Renaissance critics appear to have\nbelieved. His real meaning is thus explained by a modern writer:--\n\n     \"Everything that expresses the mental life, that reveals a\n     rational personality, will fall within this larger sense of\n     action.... The phrase is virtually an equivalent for [Greek:\n     ethe] (character), [Greek: pathe] (emotion), [Greek: praxeis]\n     (action).... The common original from which all the arts draw\n     is human life,--its mental processes, its spiritual movements,\n     its outward acts issuing from deeper sources; in a word, all\n     that constitutes the inward and essential activity of the soul.\n     On this principle landscape and animals are not ranked among\n     the objects of aesthetic imitation. The whole universe is not\n     conceived of as the raw material of art. Aristotle's theory is\n     in agreement with the practice of the Greek poets and artists\n     of the classical period, who introduce the external world only\n     so far as it forms a background of action, and enters as an\n     emotional element into man's life and heightens the human\n     interest.\"[62]\n\nAristotle distinctly says that \"even if a treatise on medicine or\nnatural philosophy be brought out in verse, the name of poet is by\ncustom given to the author; and yet Homer and Empedocles have nothing in\ncommon except the material; the former, therefore, is properly styled\npoet, the latter, physicist rather than poet.\"[63]\n\nThe Aristotelian doctrine was variously conceived during the\nRenaissance. Fracastoro, for example, asserts that the imitation of\nhuman life alone is not of itself a test of poetry, for such a test\nwould exclude Empedocles and Lucretius; it would make Virgil a poet in\nthe _AEneid_, and not a poet in the _Georgics_. All matters are proper\nmaterial for the poet, as Horace says, if they are treated poetically;\nand although the imitation of men and women may seem to be of higher\nimportance for us who are men and women, the imitation of human life is\nno more the poet's end than the imitation of anything else.[64] This\nportion of Fracastoro's argument may be called apologetic, for the\nimitation of human actions as a test of poetry would exclude most of his\nown poems,[65] such as his famous _De Morbo Gallico_ (1529), written\nbefore the influence of Aristotle was felt in anything but the mere\nexternal forms of creative literature. For Fracastoro, all things\npoetically treated become poetry, and Aristotle himself[66] says that\neverything becomes pleasant when correctly imitated. So that not the\nmere composition of verse, but the Platonic rapture, the delight in the\ntrue and essential beauty of things, is for Fracastoro the test of\npoetic power.\n\nVarchi, on the other hand, is more in accord with Aristotle, in\nconceiving of \"action,\" the subject-matter of poetry, as including the\npassions and habits of mind as well as the merely external actions of\nmankind. By passions Varchi means those mental perturbations which impel\nus to an action at any particular time ([Greek: pathe]); while by\nmanners, or habits of mind, he means those mental qualities which\ndistinguish one man or one class of men from another ([Greek: ethe]).\nThe exclusion of the emotional or introspective side of human life\nwould leave all lyric and, in fact, all subjective verse out of the\nrealms of poetry; and it was therefore essential, in an age in which\nPetrarch was worshipped, that the subjective side of poetry should\nreceive its justification.[67] There is also in Varchi a most\ninteresting comparison between the arts of poetry and painting.[68] The\nbasis of his distinction is Horace's _ut pictura poesis_, doubtless\nfounded on the parallel of Simonides preserved for us by Plutarch; and\nthis distinction, which regarded painting as silent poetry, and poetry\nas painting in language, may be considered almost the keynote of\nRenaissance criticism, continuing even up to the time of Lessing.\n\nIn Capriano's _Della Vera Poetica_ (1555) poetry is given a preeminent\nplace among all the arts, because it does not merely deal with actions\nor with the objects of any single sense. For Capriano, poetry is an\nideal representation of life, and as such \"vere nutrice e amatrice del\nnostro bene.\"[69] All sensuous or comprehensible objects are capable of\nbeing imitated by various arts. The nobler of the imitative arts are\nconcerned with the objects of the nobler senses, while the ignobler arts\nare concerned with the objects of the senses of taste, touch, and smell.\nPoetry is the finest of all the arts, because it comprehends in itself\nall the faculties and powers of the other arts, and can in fact imitate\nanything, as, for example, the form of a lion, its color, its ferocity,\nits roar, and the like. It is also the highest form of art because it\nmakes use of the most efficacious means of imitation, namely, words,\nand especially since these receive the additional beauty and power of\nrhythm. Accordingly, Capriano divides poets into two classes: natural\npoets, who describe the things of nature, and moral poets (such as epic\nand tragic poets), who aim at presenting moral lessons and indicating\nthe uses of life; and of these two classes the moral poets are to be\nrated above the natural poets.\n\nBut if all things are the objects of poetic imitation, the poet must\nknow everything; he must have studied nature as well as life; and,\naccordingly, Lionardi, in his dialogues on poetic imitation (1554), says\nthat to be a good poet, one must be a good historian, a good orator, and\na good natural and moral philosopher as well;[70] and Bernardo Tasso\nasserts that a thorough acquaintance with the art of poetry is only to\nbe gained from the study of Aristotle's _Poetics_, combined with a\nknowledge of philosophy and the various arts and sciences, and vast\nexperience of the world.[71] The Renaissance, with its humanistic\ntendencies, never quite succeeded in discriminating between erudition\nand genius. Scaliger says that nothing which proceeds from solid\nlearning can ever be out of place in poetry, and Fracastoro (1555) and\nTomitano (1545) both affirm that the good poet and the good orator must\nessentially be learned scholars and philosophers. Scaliger therefore\ndistinguishes three classes of poets,--first, the theological poets,\nsuch as Orpheus and Amphion; secondly, the philosophical poets, of two\nsorts, natural poets, such as Empedocles and Lucretius, and moral\npoets, who again are either political, as Solon and Tyrtaeus, economic,\nas Hesiod, or common, as Phocyllides; and, thirdly, the ordinary poets\nwho imitate human life.[72] The last are divided according to the usual\nRenaissance classification into dramatic, narrative, and common or\nmixed. Scaliger's classification is employed by Sir Philip Sidney;[73]\nand a very similar subdivision is given by Minturno.[74]\n\nThe treatment of Castelvetro, in his commentary on the _Poetics_ (1570),\nis at times much more in accord with the true Aristotelian conception\nthan most of the other Renaissance writers. While following Aristotle in\nasserting that verse is not of the essence of poetry, he shows that\nAristotle himself by no means intended to class as poetry works that\nimitated in prose, for this was not the custom of Hellenic art. Prose is\nnot suited to imitative or imaginative subjects, for we expect themes\ntreated in prose to be actual facts.[75] \"Verse does not distinguish\npoetry,\" says Castelvetro, \"but clothes and adorns it; and it is as\nimproper for poetry to be written in prose, or history in verse, as it\nis for women to use the garments of men, and for men to wear the\ngarments of women.\"[76] The test of poetry therefore is not the metre\nbut the material. This approximates to Aristotle's own view; since while\nimitation is what distinguishes the poetic art, Aristotle, by limiting\nit to the imitation of human life, was, after all, making the matter the\ntest of poetry.\n\nCastelvetro, however, arrives at this conclusion on different grounds.\nScience he regards as not suitable material for poetry, and accordingly\nsuch writers as Lucretius and Fracastoro are not poets. They are good\nartists, perhaps, or good philosophers, but not poets; for the poet does\nnot attempt to discover the truth of nature, but to imitate the deeds of\nmen, and to bring delight to his audience by means of this imitation.\nMoreover, poetry, as will be seen later, is intended to give delight to\nthe populace, the untrained multitude, to whom the sciences and the arts\nare dead letters;[77] if we concede these to be fit themes for poetry,\nthen poetry is either not meant to delight, or not meant for the\nordinary people, but is intended for instruction and for those only who\nare versed in sciences and arts. Moreover, comparing poetry with\nhistory, Castelvetro finds that they resemble each other in many points,\nbut are not identical. Poetry follows, as it were, in the footsteps of\nhistory, but differs from it in that history deals with what has\nhappened, poetry with what is probable; and things that have happened,\nthough probable, are never considered in poetry as probable, but always\nas things that have happened. History, accordingly, does not regard\nverisimilitude or necessity, but only truth; poetry must take care to\nestablish the probability of its subject in verisimilitude and\nnecessity, since it cannot regard truth. Castelvetro in common with\nmost of the critics of the Renaissance seems to misconceive the full\nmeaning of ideal truth; for to the Renaissance--nay, even to\nShakespeare, if we are to consider as his own various phrases which he\nhas put into the mouths of his dramatic characters--truth was regarded\nas coincident with fact; and nothing that was not actual fact, however\nsubordinated to the laws of probability and necessity, was ever called\ntruth.\n\nIt is in keeping with this conception of the relations between history\nand poetry, that Castelvetro should differ not only from Aristotle, but\nfrom most of the critics of his own time, in asserting that the order of\nthe poetic narrative may be the same as that of historical narrative.\n\"In telling a story,\" he says, \"we need not trouble ourselves whether it\nhas beginning, middle, and end, but only whether it is fitted to its\ntrue purpose, that is, to delight its auditors by the narration of\ncertain circumstances which could possibly happen but have not actually\nhappened.\"[78] Here the only vital distinction between history and\npoetry is that the incidents recounted in history have once happened,\nwhile those recounted in poetry have never actually happened, or the\nmatter will not be regarded as poetry. Aristotle's fundamental\nrequirement of the unity of the fable is regarded as unessential, and is\nsimply observed in order to show the poet's ingenuity. This notion of\npoetic ingenuity is constant throughout Castelvetro's commentary. Thus\nhe explains Aristotle's statement that poetry is more philosophic than\nhistory--more philosophic, according to Castelvetro, in the sense of\nrequiring more thought, more speculation in its composition--by showing\nthat it is a more difficult and more ingenious labor to invent things\nthat could possibly happen, than merely to repeat things that have\nactually happened.[79]\n\n\nIII. _The Function of Poetry_\n\nAccording to Strabo, it will be remembered, the object or function of\npoetry is pleasurable instruction in reference to character, emotion,\naction. This occasions the inquiry as to what is the function of the\npoetic art, and, furthermore, what are its relations to morality. The\nstarting-point of all discussions on this subject in the Renaissance was\nthe famous verse of Horace:--\n\n    \"Aut prodesse volunt aut delectare poetae.\"[80]\n\nThis line suggests that the function of poetry may be to please, or to\ninstruct, or both to please and instruct; and every one of the writers\nof the Renaissance takes one or other of these three positions.\nAristotle, as we know, regarded poetry as an imitation of human life,\nfor the purpose of giving a certain refined pleasure to the reader or\nhearer. \"The end of the fine arts is to give pleasure ([Greek: pros\nhedonen]), or rational enjoyment ([Greek: pros diagogen]).\"[81] It has\nalready been said that poetry, in so far as it is an imitation of human\nlife, and attempts to be true to human life in its ideal aspects, must\nfundamentally be moral; but to give moral or scientific instruction is\nin no way the end or function of poetry. It will be seen that the\nRenaissance was in closer accord with Horace than with Aristotle, in\nrequiring for the most part the _utile_ as well as the _dulce_ in\npoetry.\n\nFor Daniello, one of the earliest critical writers of the century, the\nfunction of the poet is to teach and delight. As the aim of the orator\nis to persuade, and the aim of the physician to cure, so the aim of the\npoet is equally to teach and delight; and unless he teaches and delights\nhe cannot be called a poet, even as one who does not persuade cannot be\ncalled an orator, or one who does not cure, a physician.[82] But beyond\nprofitableness and beauty, the poet must carry with him a certain\npersuasion, which is one of the highest functions of poetry, and which\nconsists in moving and affecting the reader or hearer with the very\npassions depicted; but the poet must be moved first, before he can move\nothers.[83] Here Daniello is renewing Horace's\n\n        \"Si vis me flere, dolendum est\n    Primum ipsi tibi,\"--\n\na sentiment echoed by poets as different as Vauquelin, Boileau, and\nLamartine.\n\nFracastoro, however, attempts a deeper analysis of the proper function\nof the poetic art. What is the aim of the poet? Not merely to give\ndelight, for the fields, the stars, men and women, the objects of\npoetic imitation themselves do that; and poetry, if it did no more,\ncould not be said to have any reason for existing. Nor is it merely to\nteach and delight, as Horace says; for the descriptions of countries,\npeoples, and armies, the scientific digressions and the historical\nevents, which constitute the instructive side of poetry, are derived\nfrom cosmographers, scientists, and historians, who teach and delight as\nmuch as poets do. What, then, is the function of the poet? It is, as has\nalready been pointed out, to describe the essential beauty of things, to\naim at the universal and ideal, and to perform this function with every\npossible accompaniment of beautiful speech, thus affecting the minds of\nmen in the direction of excellence and beauty. Portions of Fracastoro's\nargument have been alluded to before, and it will suffice here to state\nhis own summing up of the aim of the poet, which is this, \"Delectare et\nprodesse imitando in unoquoque maxima et pulcherrima per genus dicendi\nsimpliciter pulchrum ex convenientibus.\"[84] This is a mingling of the\nHoratian and Platonic conceptions of poetic art.\n\nBy other critics a more practical function was given to poetry. Giraldi\nCintio asserts that it is the poet's aim to condemn vice and to praise\nvirtue, and Maggi says that poets aim almost exclusively at benefiting\nthe mind. Poets who, on the contrary, treat of obscene matters for the\ncorruption of youth, may be compared with infamous physicians who give\ntheir patients deadly poison in the guise of wholesome medicine. Horace\nand Aristotle, according to Maggi, are at one on this point, for in the\ndefinition of tragedy Aristotle ascribes to it a distinctly useful\npurpose, and whatever delight is obtainable is to be regarded as a\nresult of this moral function; for Maggi and the Renaissance critics in\ngeneral would follow the Elizabethan poet who speaks of \"delight, the\nfruit of virtue dearly loved.\" Muzio, in his versified _Arte Poetica_\n(1555), regards the end of poetry as pleasure and profit, and the\npleasurable aim of poetry as attained by variety, for the greatest poems\ncontain every phase of life and art.\n\nIt has been seen that Varchi classed poetry with rational philosophy.\nThe end of all arts and sciences is to make human life perfect and\nhappy; but they differ in their modes of producing this result.\nPhilosophy attains its end by teaching; rhetoric, by persuasion;\nhistory, by narration; poetry, by imitation or representation. The aim\nof the poet, therefore, is to make the human soul perfect and happy, and\nit is his office to imitate, that is, to invent and represent, things\nwhich render men virtuous, and consequently happy. Poetry attains this\nend more perfectly than any of the other arts or sciences, because it\ndoes so, not by means of precept, but by means of example. There are\nvarious ways of making men virtuous,--by teaching them what vice is and\nwhat virtue is, which is the province of ethics; by actually chastising\nvices and rewarding virtues, which is the province of law; or by\nexample, that is, by the representation of virtuous men receiving\nsuitable rewards for their virtue, and of vicious men receiving suitable\npunishments, which is the province of poetry. This last method is the\nmost efficacious, because it is accompanied by delight. For men either\ncan not or will not take the trouble to study sciences and virtues--nay,\ndo not even like to be told what they should or should not do; but in\nhearing or reading poetic examples, not only is there no trouble, but\nthere is the greatest delight, and no one can help being moved by the\nrepresentation of characters who are rewarded or punished according to\nan ideal justice.\n\nFor Varchi, then, as for Sir Philip Sidney later, the high importance of\npoetry is to be found in the fact that it teaches morality better than\nany other art, and the reason is that its instrument is not precept but\nexample, which is the most delightful and hence the most efficacious of\nall means. The function of poetry is, therefore, a moral one, and it\nconsists in removing the vices of men and inciting them to virtue. This\ntwofold moral object of poetry--the removal of vices, which is passive,\nand the incitement to virtue, which is active--is admirably attained,\nfor example, by Dante in his _Divina Commedia_; for in the _Inferno_\nevil men are so fearfully punished that we resolve to flee from every\nform of vice, and in the _Paradiso_ virtuous men are so gloriously\nrewarded that we resolve to imitate every one of their perfections. This\nis the expression of the extreme view of poetic justice; and while it is\nin keeping with the common sentiment of the Renaissance, it is of\ncourse entirely un-Aristotelian.\n\nScaliger's point of view is in accord with the common Renaissance\ntradition. Poetry is imitation, but imitation is not the end of poetry.\nImitation for its own sake--that is, art for art's sake--receives no\nencouragement from Scaliger. The purpose of poetry is to teach\ndelightfully (_docere cum delectatione_); and, therefore, not imitation,\nas Aristotle says, but delightful instruction, is the test of\npoetry.[85] Minturno (1559) adds a third element to that of instruction\nand of delight.[86] The function of poetry is not only to teach and\ndelight, but also to move, that is, beyond instruction and delight the\npoet must impel certain passions in the reader or hearer, and incite the\nmind to admiration of what is described.[87] An ideal hero may be\nrepresented in a poem, but the poem is futile unless it excites the\nreader to admiration of the hero depicted. Accordingly, it is the\npeculiar office of the poet to move admiration for great men; for the\norator, the philosopher, and the historian need not necessarily do so,\nbut no one who does not incite this admiration can really be called a\npoet.\n\nThis new element of admiration is the logical consequence of the\nRenaissance position that philosophy teaches by precept, but poetry by\nexample, and that in this consists its superior ethical efficacy. In\nSeneca's phrase, \"longum iter per praecepta, breve per exempla.\" If\npoetry, therefore, attains its end by means of example, it follows that\nto arrive at this end the poet must incite in the reader an admiration\nof the example, or the ethical aim of poetry will not be accomplished.\nPoetry is more than a mere passive expression of truth in the most\npleasurable manner; it becomes like oratory an active exhortation to\nvirtue, by attempting to create in the reader's mind a strong desire to\nbe like the heroes he is reading about. The poet does not tell what\nvices are to be avoided and what virtues are to be imitated, but sets\nbefore the reader or hearer the most perfect types of the various\nvirtues and vices. It is, in Sidney's phrase (a phrase apparently\nborrowed from Minturno), \"that feigning notable images of virtues,\nvices, or what else, with that delightful instruction, which must be the\nright describing note to know a poet by.\" Dryden, a century later, seems\nto be insisting upon this same principle of admiration when he says that\nit is the work of the poet \"to affect the soul, and excite the passions,\nand above all to move admiration, which is the delight of serious\nplays.\"[88]\n\nBut Minturno goes even further than this. If the poet is fundamentally a\nteacher of virtue, it follows that he must be a virtuous man himself;\nand in pointing this out, Minturno has given the first complete\nexpression in modern times of the consecrated conception of the poet's\noffice. As no form of knowledge and no moral excellence is foreign to\nthe poet, so at bottom he is the truly wise and good man. The poet may,\nin fact, be defined as a good man skilled in language and imitation; not\nonly ought he to be a good man, but no one will be a good poet unless he\nis so.[89] This conception of the moral nature of the poet may be traced\nhenceforth throughout modern times. It is to be found in Ronsard[90] and\nother French and Italian writers; it is especially noticeable in English\nliterature, and is insisted on by Ben Jonson,[91] Milton,[92]\nShaftesbury,[93] Coleridge,[94] and Shelley.[95] In this idea Plato's\npraise of the philosopher, as well as Cicero's and Quintilian's praise\nof the orator, was by the Renaissance transferred to the poet;[96] but\nthe conception itself goes back to a passage in Strabo's _Geography_, a\nwork well known to sixteenth-century scholars. This passage is as\nfollows:--\n\n     \"Can we possibly imagine that the genius, power, and excellence\n     of a real poet consist in aught else than the just imitation of\n     life in formed discourse and numbers? But how should he be that\n     just imitator of life, whilst he himself knows not its\n     measures, nor how to guide himself by judgment and\n     understanding? For we have not surely the same notion of the\n     poet's excellence as of the ordinary craftsman's, the subject\n     of whose art is senseless stone or timber, without life,\n     dignity, or beauty; whilst the poet's art turning principally\n     on men and manners, he has his virtues and excellence as poet\n     naturally annexed to human excellence, and to the worth and\n     dignity of man, insomuch that it is impossible he should be a\n     great and worthy poet who is not first a worthy and good\n     man.\"[97]\n\nAnother writer of the sixteenth century, Bernardo Tasso, tells us that\nin his poem of the _Amadigi_ he has aimed at delight rather than\nprofitable instruction.[98] \"I have spent most of my efforts,\" he says,\n\"in attempting to please, as it seems to me that this is more necessary,\nand also more difficult to attain; for we find by experience that many\npoets may instruct and benefit us very much, but certainly give us very\nlittle delight.\" This agrees with what one of the sanest of English\ncritics, John Dryden (1668), has said of verse, \"I am satisfied if it\ncaused delight, for delight is the chief if not the only end of poesie;\ninstruction can be admitted but in the second place, for poesie only\ninstructs as it delights.\"[99]\n\nIt is this same end which Castelvetro (1570) ascribes to poetic art. For\nCastelvetro, as in a lesser degree for Robortelli also, the end of\npoetry is delight, and delight alone.[100] This, he asserts, is the\nposition of Aristotle, and if utility is to be conceded to poetry at\nall, it is merely as an accident, as in the tragic purgation of terror\nand compassion.[101] But he goes further than Aristotle would have been\nwilling to go; for poetry, according to Castelvetro, is intended not\nmerely to please, but to please the populace, in fact everybody, even\nthe vulgar mob.[102] On this he insists throughout his commentary;\nindeed, as will be seen later, it is on this conception that his theory\nof the drama is primarily based. But it may be confidently asserted that\nAristotle would have willingly echoed the conclusion of Shakespeare, as\nexpressed in _Hamlet_, that the censure of one of the judicious must\no'erweigh a whole theatre of others. At the same time, Castelvetro's\nconception is in keeping with a certain modern feeling in regard to the\nmeaning of poetic art. Thus a recent writer regards literature as aiming\n\"at the pleasure of the greatest possible number of the nation rather\nthan instruction and practical effects,\" and as applying \"to general\nrather than specialized knowledge.\"[103] There is, then, in\nCastelvetro's argument this modicum of truth, that poetry appeals to no\nspecialized knowledge, but that its function is, as Coleridge says, to\ngive a definite and immediate pleasure.\n\nTorquato Tasso, as might be expected, regards poetry in a more highly\nideal sense. His conception of the function of poets and of the poetic\nart may be explained as follows: The universe is beautiful in itself,\nbecause beauty is a ray from the Divine splendor; and hence art should\nseek to approach as closely as possible to nature, and to catch and\nexpress this natural beauty of the world.[104] Real beauty, however, is\nnot so called because of any usefulness it may possess, but is primarily\nbeautiful in itself; for the beautiful is what pleases every one, just\nas the good is what every one desires.[105] Beauty is therefore the\nflower of the good (_quasi un fiore del buono_); it is the circumference\nof the circle of which the good is the centre, and accordingly, poetry,\nas an expression of this beauty, imitates the outward show of life in\nits general aspects. Poetry is therefore an imitation of human actions,\nmade for the guidance of life; and its end is delight, _ordinato al\ngiovamento_.[106] It must essentially delight, either because delight is\nits aim, or because delight is the necessary means of effecting the\nethical end of art.[107] Thus, for example, heroic poetry consists of\nimitation and allegory, the function of the former being to cause\ndelight, and that of the latter to give instruction and guidance in\nlife. But since difficult or obscure conceits rarely delight, and since\nthe poet does not appeal to the learned only, but to the people, just as\nthe orator does, the poet's idea must be, if not popular in the ordinary\nsense of the word, at least intelligible to the people. Now the people\nwill not study difficult problems; but poetry, by appealing to them on\nthe side of pleasure, teaches them whether they will or no; and this\nconstitutes the true effectiveness of poetry, for it is the most\ndelightful, and hence the most valuable, of teachers.[108]\n\nSuch, then, are the various conceptions of the function of poetry, as\nheld by the critics of the Renaissance. On the whole, it may be said\nthat at bottom the conception was an ethical one, for, with the\nexception of such a revolutionary spirit as Castelvetro, by most\ntheorists it was as an effective guide to life that poetry was chiefly\nvalued. Even when delight was admitted as an end, it was simply because\nof its usefulness in effecting the ethical aim.\n\nIn concluding this chapter, it may be well to say a few words, and only\na few, upon the classification of poetic forms. There were during the\nRenaissance numerous attempts at distinguishing these forms, but on the\nwhole all of them are fundamentally equivalent to that of Minturno, who\nrecognizes three _genres_,--the lyric or melic, the dramatic or scenic,\nand the epic or narrative. This classification is essentially that of\nthe Greeks, and it has lasted down to this very day. With lyric poetry\nthis essay is scarcely concerned, for during the Renaissance there was\nno systematic lyric theory. Those who discussed it at all gave most of\ntheir attention to its formal structure, its style, and especially the\nconceit it contained. The model of all lyrical poetry was Petrarch, and\nit was in accordance with the lyrical poet's agreement or disagreement\nwith the Petrarchan method that he was regarded as a success or a\nfailure. Muzio's critical poem (1551) deals almost entirely with lyrical\nverse, and there are discussions on this subject in the works of\nTrissino, Equicola, Ruscelli, Scaliger, and Minturno. But the real\nquestion at issue in all these discussions is merely that of external\nform, and it is with the question of principles, in so far as they\nregard literary criticism, that this essay is primarily concerned. The\ntheory of dramatic and epic poetry, being fundamental, will therefore\nreceive almost exclusive attention.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[40] Robortelli, p. 1 _sq._\n\n[41] This analysis of Zabarella, _Opera Logica, De Natura Logicae_, ii.\n13-23, I owe to the kindness of Professor Butcher of Edinburgh.\nZabarella probably derived his knowledge of Aristotle's _Poetics_ from\nRobortelli, under whom he studied Greek. _Cf._ Bayle, _Dict._ s. v.\nZabarella.\n\n[42] Maggi, p. 28 _sq._ _Cf._ B. Tasso, _Lettere_, ii. 514; Scaliger,\n_Poet._ i. 2; Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 7; Salviati, Cod. Magliabech.\nii. ii. 11, fol. 384 v.; B. Jonson, _Timber_, p. 74.\n\n[43] Daniello, p. 41 _sq._\n\n[44] Robortelli, p. 86 _sq._\n\n[45] Robortelli, p. 90 _sq._\n\n[46] Fracastoro, i. 340.\n\n[47] Fracastoro, i. 357 _sq._\n\n[48] _Poet._ vi. 2.\n\n[49] Varchi, p. 578.\n\n[50] _E.g._ Piccolomini, p. 27 _sq._\n\n[51] Tiraboschi, vii. 1331.\n\n[52] Summo, pp. 61-69.\n\n[53] _Poet._ iii. 95.\n\n[54] _Poet._ i. 1.\n\n[55] Another critic of the time, Vettori, 1560, pp. 14, 93, attacks\npoetic prose on the ground that in Aristotle's definition of the various\npoetic forms, verse is always spoken of as an essential part. It is\ninteresting to note that the phrase \"poetic prose\" is used, perhaps for\nthe first time, in Minturno, _Arte Poetica_, 1564, p. 3, etc.\n\n[56] _Opere_, x. 254. _Cf._ Minturno, _Arte Poetica_, p. 33.\n\n[57] _Poet._ iii. 96.\n\n[58] Muzio, p. 69.\n\n[59] Giraldi Cintio, i. 61.\n\n[60] _Art Poet._ iii. 50. _Cf._ Horace, _Ars Poet._ 188.\n\n[61] _Zodiac. Vitae_, i. 143.\n\n[62] Butcher, pp. 117, 118.\n\n[63] _Poet._ i. 8.\n\n[64] Fracastoro, i. 335 _sq._\n\n[65] _Cf._ Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 27 _sq._\n\n[66] _Rhet._ i. 11.\n\n[67] _Cf._ A. Segni, 1581, cap. i.\n\n[68] Varchi, p. 227 _sq._\n\n[69] Capriano, cap. ii.\n\n[70] Lionardi, p. 43 _sq._\n\n[71] _Lettere_, ii. 525.\n\n[72] Scaliger, _Poet._ i. 2.\n\n[73] _Defense_, pp. 10, 11.\n\n[74] _De Poeta_, p. 53 _sq._\n\n[75] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 23 _sq._\n\n[76] _Ibid._ p. 190.\n\n[77] _Cf._ T. Tasso, xi. 51.\n\n[78] _Poetica_, p. 158.\n\n[79] _Poetica_, p. 191.\n\n[80] _Ars Poet._ 333.\n\n[81] Butcher, p. 185.\n\n[82] Daniello, p. 25.\n\n[83] _Ibid._ p. 40.\n\n[84] Fracastoro, i. 363.\n\n[85] Scaliger, _Poet._ vi. ii. 2.\n\n[86] _De Poeta_, p. 102. _Cf._ Scaliger, _Poet._ iii. 96.\n\n[87] _De Poeta_, p. 11.\n\n[88] _Essay of Dramatic Poesy_, p. 104.\n\n[89] _De Poeta_, p. 79.\n\n[90] _Oeuvres_, vii. 318.\n\n[91] _Works_, i. 333.\n\n[92] _Prose Works_, iii. 118.\n\n[93] _Characteristicks_, 1711, i. 207.\n\n[94] H. C. Robinson, _Diary_, May 29, 1812, \"Coleridge talked of the\nimpossibility of being a good poet without being a good man.\"\n\n[95] _Defence of Poetry_, p. 42.\n\n[96] Minturno plainly says as much, _De Poeta_, p. 105.\n\n[97] _Geog._ i. ii. 5, as cited by Shaftesbury.\n\n[98] _Lettere_, ii. 195.\n\n[99] _Essay of Dramatic Poesy_, p. 104.\n\n[100] _Cf._ Piccolomini, p. 369.\n\n[101] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 505. _Cf._ Twining, ii. 449, 450.\n\n[102] _Poetica_, p. 29.\n\n[103] Posnett, cited by Cook, p. 247.\n\n[104] _Opere_, viii. 26 _sq._\n\n[105] _Ibid._ ix. 123.\n\n[106] _Ibid._ xii. 13.\n\n[107] _Ibid._ xi. 50.\n\n[108] _Ibid._ xii. 212.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE THEORY OF THE DRAMA\n\n\nARISTOTLE'S definition of tragedy is the basis of the Renaissance theory\nof tragedy. That definition is as follows: \"Tragedy is an imitation of\nan action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in\nlanguage embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several\nkinds being found in separate parts of the play; in the form of action,\nnot of narration; through pity and fear effecting the proper _katharsis_\nor purgation of these emotions.\"[109]\n\nTo expand this definition, tragedy, in common with all other forms of\npoetry, is the imitation of an action; but the action of tragedy is\ndistinguished from that of comedy in being grave and serious. The action\nis complete, in so far as it possesses perfect unity; and in length it\nmust be of the proper magnitude. By embellished language, Aristotle\nmeans language into which rhythm, harmony, and song enter; and by the\nremark that the several kinds are to be found in separate parts of the\nplay, he means that some parts of tragedy are rendered through the\nmedium of verse alone, while others receive the aid of song. Moreover,\ntragedy is distinguished from epic poetry by being in the form of\naction instead of that of narration. The last portion of Aristotle's\ndefinition describes the peculiar function of tragic performance.\n\n\nI. _The Subject of Tragedy_\n\nTragedy is the imitation of a _serious_ action, that is, an action both\ngrave and great, or, as the sixteenth century translated the word,\nillustrious. Now, what constitutes a serious action, and what actions\nare not suited to the dignified character of tragedy? Daniello (1536)\ndistinguishes tragedy from comedy in that the comic poets \"deal with the\nmost familiar and domestic, not to say base and vile operations; the\ntragic poets, with the deaths of high kings and the ruins of great\nempires.\"[110] Whichever of these matters the poet selects should be\ntreated without admixture of any other form; if he resolves to treat of\ngrave matters, mere loveliness should be excluded; if of themes of\nloveliness, he should exclude all grave themes. Here, at the very\nbeginning of dramatic discussion, the strict separation of themes or\n_genres_ is advocated in as formal a manner as ever during the period of\nclassicism; and this was never deviated from, at least in theory, by any\nof the writers of the sixteenth century. Moreover, according to\nDaniello, the dignified character of tragedy demands that all unseemly,\ncruel, impossible, or ignoble incidents should be excluded from the\nstage; while even comedy should not attempt to represent any lascivious\nact.[111] This was merely a deduction from Senecan tragedy and the\ngeneral practice of the classics.\n\nThere is, in Daniello's theory of tragedy, no single Aristotelian\nelement, and it was not until about a decade later that Aristotle's\ntheory of tragedy played any considerable part in the literary criticism\nof the sixteenth century. In 1543, however, the _Poetics_ had already\nbecome a part of university study, for Giraldi Cintio, in his _Discorso\nsulle Comedie e sulle Tragedie_, written in that year, says that it was\na regular academic exercise to compare some Greek tragedy, such as the\n_Oedipus_ of Sophocles, with a tragedy of Seneca on the same subject,\nusing the _Poetics_ of Aristotle as a dramatic text-book.[112] Giraldi\ndistinguishes tragedy from comedy on somewhat the same grounds as\nDaniello. \"Tragedy and comedy,\" he says, \"agree in that they are both\nimitations of an action, but they differ in that the former imitates the\nillustrious and royal, the latter the popular and civil. Hence Aristotle\nsays that comedy imitates the worse sort of actions, not that they are\nvicious and criminal, but that, as regards nobility, they are worse when\ncompared with royal actions.\" Giraldi's position is made clear by his\nfurther statement that the actions of tragedy are called illustrious,\nnot because they are virtuous or vicious, but merely because they are\nthe actions of people of the highest rank.[113]\n\nThis conception of the serious action of tragedy, which makes its\ndignity the result of the rank of those who are its actors, and thus\nregards rank as the real distinguishing mark between comedy and tragedy,\nwas not only common throughout the Renaissance, but even throughout the\nwhole period of classicism, and had an extraordinary effect on the\nmodern drama, especially in France. Thus Dacier (1692) says that it is\nnot necessary that the action be illustrious and important in itself:\n\"On the contrary, it may be very ordinary or common; but it must be so\nby the quality of the persons who act.... The greatness of these eminent\nmen renders the action great, and their reputation makes it credible and\npossible.\"[114]\n\nAgain, Robortelli (1548) maintains that tragedy deals only with the\ngreater sort of men (_praestantiores_), because the fall of men of such\nrank into misery and disgrace produces greater commiseration (which is,\nas will be seen, one of the functions of tragedy) than the fall of men\nof merely ordinary rank. Another commentator on the _Poetics_, Maggi\n(1550), gives a slightly different explanation of Aristotle's meaning.\nMaggi asserts that Aristotle,[115] in saying that comedy deals with the\nworse and tragedy with the better sort of men, means to distinguish\nbetween those whose rank is lower or higher than that of ordinary men;\ncomedy dealing with slaves, tradesmen, maidservants, buffoons, and other\nlow people, tragedy with kings and heroes.[116] This explanation is\ndefended on grounds similar to those given by Robortelli, that is, the\nchange from felicity to infelicity is greater and more noticeable in the\ngreatest men.[117]\n\nThis conception of the rank of the characters as the distinguishing mark\nbetween tragedy and comedy is, it need not be said, entirely\nun-Aristotelian. \"Aristotle does undoubtedly hold,\" says Professor\nButcher, \"that actors in tragedy ought to be illustrious by birth and\nposition. The narrow and trivial life of obscure persons cannot give\nscope for a great and significant action, one of tragic consequence. But\nnowhere does he make outward rank the distinguishing feature of tragic\nas opposed to comic representation. Moral nobility is what he demands;\nand this--on the French stage, or at least with French critics--is\ntransformed into an inflated dignity, a courtly etiquette and decorum,\nwhich seemed proper to high rank. The instance is one of many in which\nliterary critics have wholly confounded the teaching of Aristotle.\"[118]\nThis distinction, then, though common up to the end of the eighteenth\ncentury, is not to be found in Aristotle; but the fact is, that a\nsimilar distinction can be traced, throughout the Middle Ages,\nthroughout classical antiquity, back almost to the time of Aristotle\nhimself.\n\nThe grammarian, Diomedes, has preserved the definition of tragedy\nformulated by Theophrastus, Aristotle's successor as head of the\nPeripatetic school. According to this definition, tragedy is \"a change\nin the fortune of a hero.\"[119] A Greek definition of comedy preserved\nby Diomedes, and ascribed to Theophrastus also,[120] speaks of comedy as\ndealing with private and civil fortunes, without the element of danger.\nThis seems to have been the accepted Roman notion of comedy. In the\ntreatise of Euanthius-Donatus, comedy is said to deal with the common\nfortunes of men, to begin turbulently, but to end tranquilly and\nhappily; tragedy, on the other hand, has only mighty personages, and\nends terribly; its subject is often historical, while that of comedy is\nalways invented by the poet.[121] The third book of Diomedes's _Ars\nGrammatica_, based on Suetonius's tractate _De Poetis_ (written in the\nsecond century A.D.), distinguishes tragedy from comedy in that only\nheroes, great leaders, and kings are introduced in tragedy, while in\ncomedy the characters are humble and private persons; in the former,\nlamentations, exiles, bloodshed predominate, in the latter, love affairs\nand seductions.[122] Isidore of Seville, in the seventh century, says\nvery much the same thing: \"Comic poets treat of the acts of private men,\nwhile tragic poets treat of public matters and the histories of kings;\ntragic themes are based on sorrowful affairs, comic themes on joyful\nones.\"[123] In another place he speaks of tragedy as dealing with the\nancient deeds and misdeeds of infamous kings, and of comedy as dealing\nwith the actions of private men, and with the defilement of maidens and\nthe love affairs of strumpets.[124] In the _Catholicon_ of Johannes\nJanuensis de Balbis (1286) tragedy and comedy are distinguished on\nsimilar grounds: tragedy deals only with kings and princes, comedy with\nprivate citizens; the style of the former is elevated, that of the\nlatter humble; comedy begins sorrowfully and ends joyfully, tragedy\nbegins joyfully and ends miserably and terribly.[125] For Dante, any\npoem written in an elevated and sublime style, beginning happily and\nending in misery and terror, is a tragedy; his own great vision, written\nas it is in the vernacular, and beginning in hell and ending gloriously\nin paradise, he calls a comedy.[126]\n\nIt appears, therefore, that during the post-classic period and\nthroughout the Middle Ages, comedy and tragedy were distinguished on any\nor all of the following grounds:--\n\ni. The characters in tragedy are kings, princes, or great leaders; those\nin comedy, humble persons and private citizens.\n\nii. Tragedy deals with great and terrible actions; comedy with familiar\nand domestic actions.\n\niii. Tragedy begins happily and ends terribly; comedy begins rather\nturbulently and ends joyfully.\n\niv. The style and diction of tragedy are elevated and sublime; while\nthose of comedy are humble and colloquial.\n\nv. The subjects of tragedy are generally historical; those of comedy are\nalways invented by the poet.\n\nvi. Comedy deals largely with love and seduction; tragedy with exile and\nbloodshed.\n\nThis, then, was the tradition that shaped the un-Aristotelian conception\nof the distinctions between comedy and tragedy, which persisted\nthroughout and even beyond the Renaissance. Giraldi Cintio has followed\nmost of these traditional distinctions, but he is in closer accord with\nAristotle[127] when he asserts that the tragic as well as the comic plot\nmay be purely imaginary and invented by the poet.[128] He explains the\ntraditional conception that the tragic fable should be historical, on\nthe ground that as tragedy deals with the deeds of kings and illustrious\nmen, it would not be probable that remarkable actions of such great\npersonages should be left unrecorded in history, whereas the private\nevents treated in comedy could hardly be known to all. Giraldi, however,\nasserts that it does not matter whether the tragic poet invents his\nstory or not, so long as it follows the law of probability. The poet\nshould choose an action that is probable and dignified, that does not\nneed the intervention of a god in the unravelling of the plot, that does\nnot occupy much more than the space of a day, and that can be\nrepresented on the stage in three or four hours.[129] In respect to the\ndenouement of tragedy, it may be happy or unhappy, but in either case it\nmust arouse pity and terror; and as for the classic notion that no\ndeaths should be represented on the stage, Giraldi declares that those\nwhich are not excessively painful may be represented, for they are\nrepresented not for the sake of commiseration but of justice. The\nargument here centres about Aristotle's phrase [Greek: en to phanero\nthanatoi],[130] but the common practice of classicism was based on\nHorace's express prohibition:--\n\n    \"Ne pueros coram populo Medea trucidet.\"[131]\n\nGiraldi gives it as a universal rule of the drama that nothing should be\nrepresented on the stage which could not with propriety be done in one's\nown house.[132]\n\nScaliger's treatment of the dramatic forms is particularly interesting\nbecause of its great influence on the neo-classical drama. He defines\ntragedy as an imitation of an illustrious event, ending unhappily,\nwritten in a grave and weighty style, and in verse.[133] Here he has\ndiscarded, or at least disregarded, the Aristotelian definition of\ntragedy, in favor of the traditional conception which had come down\nthrough the Middle Ages. Real tragedy, according to Scaliger, is\nentirely serious; and although there are a few happy endings in ancient\ntragedy, the unhappy ending is most proper to the spirit of tragedy\nitself. _Mortes aut exilia_--these are the fit accompaniments of the\ntragic catastrophe.[134] The action begins tranquilly, but ends\nhorribly; the characters are kings and princes, from cities, castles,\nand camps; the language is grave, polished, and entirely opposed to\ncolloquial speech; the aspect of things is troubled, with terrors,\nmenaces, exiles, and deaths on every hand. Taking as his model Seneca,\nwhom he rates above all the Greeks in majesty,[135] he gives as the\ntypical themes of tragedy \"the mandates of kings, slaughters, despairs,\nexecutions, exiles, loss of parents, parricides, incests,\nconflagrations, battles, loss of sight, tears, shrieks, lamentations,\nburials, epitaphs, and funeral songs.\"[136] Tragedy is further\ndistinguished from comedy on the ground that the latter derives its\nargument and its chief characters from history, inventing merely the\nminor characters; while comedy invents its arguments and all its\ncharacters, and gives them names of their own. Scaliger distinguishes\nmen, for the purposes of dramatic poetry, according to character and\nrank;[137] but it would seem that he regarded rank alone as the\ndistinguishing mark between tragedy and comedy. Thus tragedy is made to\ndiffer from comedy in three things: in the rank of the characters, in\nthe quality of the actions, and in their different endings; and as a\nresult of these differences, in style also.\n\nThe definition of tragedy given by Minturno, in his treatise _De Poeta_\n(1559), is merely a paraphrase of Aristotle's. He conceives of tragedy\nas describing _casus heroum cuius sibi quisque fortunae fuerit faber_,\nand it thus acts as a warning to men against pride of rank, insolence,\navarice, lust, and similar passions.[138] It is grave and illustrious\nbecause its characters are illustrious; and no variety of persons or\nevents should be introduced that are not in keeping with the calamitous\nending. The language throughout must be grave and severe; and Minturno\nhas expressed his censure in such matters by the phrase, _poema amatorio\nmollique sermone effoeminat_,[139] a censure which would doubtless apply\nto a large portion of classic French tragedy.\n\nIn Castelvetro (1570) we find a far more complete theory of the drama\nthan had been attempted by any of his predecessors. His work is by no\nmeans a model of what a commentary on Aristotle's _Poetics_ should be.\nIn the next century, Dacier, whose subservience to Aristotle was even\ngreater than that of any of the Italians, accuses Castelvetro of lacking\nevery quality necessary to a good interpreter of Aristotle. \"He knew\nnothing,\" says Dacier, \"of the theatre, or of character, or of the\npassions; he understood neither the reasons nor the method of Aristotle;\nand he sought rather to contradict Aristotle than to explain him.\"[140]\nThe fact is that Castelvetro, despite considerable veneration for\nAristotle's authority, often shows remarkable independence of thought;\nand so far from resting content, in his commentary, with the mere\nexplanation of the details of the _Poetics_, he has attempted to deduce\nfrom it a more or less complete theory of poetic art. Accordingly,\nthough diverging from many of the details, and still more from the\nspirit of the _Poetics_, he has, as it were, built up a dramatic system\nof his own, founded upon certain modifications and misconceptions of the\nAristotelian canons. The fundamental idea of this system is quite\nmodern; and it is especially interesting because it indicates that by\nthis time the drama had become more than a mere academic exercise, and\nwas actually regarded as intended primarily for representation on the\nstage. Castelvetro examines the physical conditions of stage\nrepresentation, and on this bases the requirements of dramatic\nliterature. The fact that the drama is intended for the stage, that it\nis to be acted, is at the bottom of his theory of tragedy, and it was to\nthis notion, as will be seen later, that we are to attribute the origin\nof the unities of time and place.\n\nBut Castelvetro's method brings with it its own _reductio ad absurdum_.\nFor after all, stage representation, while essential to the production\nof dramatic literature, can never circumscribe the poetic power or\nestablish its conditions. The conditions of stage representation change,\nand must change, with the varying conditions of dramatic literature and\nthe inventive faculty of poets, for truly great art makes, or at least\nfixes, its own conditions. Besides, it is with what is permanent and\nuniversal that the artist--the dramatic artist as well as the rest--is\nconcerned; and it is the poetic, and not the dramaturgic, element that\nis permanent and universal. \"The power of tragedy, we may be sure,\" says\nAristotle, \"is felt even apart from representation and actors;\"[141] and\nagain: \"The plot [of a tragedy] ought to be so constructed that even\nwithout the aid of the eye any one who is told the incidents will thrill\nwith horror and pity at the turn of events.\"[142]\n\nBut what, according to Castelvetro, are the conditions of stage\nrepresentation? The theatre is a public place, in which a play is\npresented before a motley crowd,--_la moltitudine rozza_,--upon a\ncircumscribed platform or stage, within a limited space of time. To this\nidea the whole of Castelvetro's dramatic system is conformed. In the\nfirst place, since the audience may be great in number, the theatre must\nbe large, and yet the audience must be able to hear the play;\naccordingly, verse is added, not merely as a delightful accompaniment,\nbut also in order that the actors may raise their voices without\ninconvenience and without loss of dignity.[143] In the second place, the\naudience is not a select gathering of choice spirits, but a motley crowd\nof people, drawn to the theatre for the purpose of pleasure or\nrecreation; accordingly, abstruse themes, and in fact all technical\ndiscussions, must be eschewed by the playwright, who is thus limited, as\nwe should say to-day, to the elemental passions and interests of\nman.[144] In the third place, the actors are required to move about on a\nraised and narrow platform; and this is the reason why deaths or deeds\nof violence, and many other things which cannot be acted on such a\nplatform with convenience and dignity, should not be represented in the\ndrama.[145] Furthermore, as will be seen later, it is on this conception\nof the circumscribed platform and the physical necessities of the\naudience and the actors, that Castelvetro bases his theory of the\nunities of time and place.\n\nIn distinguishing the different _genres_, Castelvetro openly differs\nwith Aristotle. In the _Poetics_, Aristotle distinguishes men according\nas they are better than we are, or worse, or the same as we are; and\nfrom this difference the various species of poetry, tragic, comic, and\nepic, are derived. Castelvetro thinks this mode of distinction not only\nuntrue, but even inconsistent with what Aristotle says later of tragedy.\nGoodness and badness are to be taken account of, according to\nCastelvetro, not to distinguish one form of poetry from another, but\nmerely in the special case of tragedy, in so far as a moderate virtue,\nas Aristotle says, is best able to produce terror and pity. Poetry, as\nindeed Aristotle himself acknowledges, is not an imitation of character,\nor of goodness and badness, but of men acting; and the different kinds\nof poetry are distinguished, not by the goodness and badness, or the\ncharacter, of the persons selected for imitation, but by their rank or\ncondition alone. The great and all-pervading difference between royal\nand private persons is what distinguishes tragedy and epic poetry on the\none hand from comedy and similar forms of poetry on the other. It is\nrank, then, and not intellect, character, action,--for these vary in men\naccording to their condition,--that differentiates one poetic form from\nanother; and the distinguishing mark of rank on the stage, and in\nliterature generally, is the bearing of the characters, royal persons\nacting with propriety, and meaner persons with impropriety.[146]\nCastelvetro has here escaped one pitfall, only to fall into another; for\nwhile goodness and badness cannot, from any aesthetic standpoint, be made\nto distinguish the characters of tragedy from those of comedy,--leaving\nout of consideration here the question whether this was or was not the\nactual opinion of Aristotle,--it is no less improper to make mere\noutward rank or condition the distinguishing feature. Whether it be\nregarded as an interpretation of Aristotle or as a poetic theory by\nitself, Castelvetro's contention is, in either case, equally untenable.\n\n\nII. _The Function of Tragedy_\n\nNo passage in Aristotle's _Poetics_ has been subjected to more\ndiscussion, and certainly no passage has been more misunderstood, than\nthat in which, at the close of his definition of tragedy, he states its\npeculiar function to be that of effecting through pity and fear the\nproper purgation ([Greek: katharsis]) of these emotions. The more\nprobable of the explanations of this passage are, as Twining says,[147]\nreducible to two. The first of these gives to Aristotle's _katharsis_ an\nethical meaning, attributing the effect of the tragedy to its moral\nlesson and example. This interpretation was a literary tradition of\ncenturies, and may be found in such diverse writers as Corneille and\nLessing, Racine and Dryden, Dacier and Rapin. According to the second\ninterpretation, the purgation of the emotions produced by tragedy is an\nemotional relief gained by the excitement of these emotions. Plato had\ninsisted that the drama excites passions, such as pity and fear, which\ndebase men's spirits; Aristotle in this passage answers that by the very\nexaltation of these emotions they are given a pleasurable outlet, and\nbeyond this there is effected a purification of the emotions so\nrelieved. That is, the emotions are clarified and purified by being\npassed through the medium of art, and by being, as Professor Butcher\npoints out, ennobled by objects worthy of an ideal emotion.[148] This\nexplanation gives no direct moral purpose or influence to the\n_katharsis_, for tragedy acts on the feelings and not on the will. While\nthe ethical conception, of course, predominates in Italian criticism, as\nit does throughout Europe up to the very end of the eighteenth century,\na number of Renaissance critics, among them Minturno and Speroni, even\nif they failed to elaborate the further aesthetic meaning of Aristotle's\ndefinition, at least perceived that Aristotle ascribed to tragedy an\nemotional and not an ethical purpose. It is unnecessary to give a\ndetailed statement of the opinions of the various Italian critics on\nthis point; but it is essential that the interpretations of the more\nimportant writers should be alluded to, since otherwise the Renaissance\nconception of the function of the drama could not be understood.\n\nGiraldi Cintio points out that the aim of comedy and of tragedy is\nidentical, viz. to conduce to virtue; but they reach this result in\ndifferent ways; for comedy attains its end by means of pleasure and\ncomic jests, while tragedy, whether it ends happily or unhappily, purges\nthe mind of vice through the medium of misery and terror, and thus\nattains its moral end.[149] Elsewhere,[150] he affirms that the tragic\npoet condemns vicious actions, and by combining them with the terrible\nand the miserable makes us fear and hate them. In other words, men who\nare bad are placed in such pitiable and terrible positions that we fear\nto imitate their vices; and it is not a purgation of pity and fear, as\nAristotle says, but an eradication of all vice and vicious desire that\nis effected by the tragic _katharsis_. Trissino, in the fifth section of\nhis _Poetica_ (1563), cites Aristotle's definition of tragedy; but makes\nno attempt to elucidate the doctrine of _katharsis_. His conception of\nthe function of the drama is much the same as Giraldi's. It is the\noffice of the tragic poet, through the medium of imitation, to praise\nand admire the good, while that of the comic poet is to mock and\nvituperate the bad; for tragedy, as Aristotle says, deals with the\nbetter sort of actions, and comedy with the worse.[151]\n\nRobortelli (1548), however, ascribes a more aesthetic function to\ntragedy. By the representation of sad and atrocious deeds, tragedy\nproduces terror and commiseration in the spectator's mind. The exercise\nof terror and commiseration purges the mind of these very passions; for\nthe spectator, seeing things performed which are very similar to the\nactual facts of life, becomes accustomed to sorrow and pity, and these\nemotions are gradually diminished.[152] Moreover, by seeing the\nsufferings of others, men sorrow less at their own, recognizing such\nthings as common to human nature. Robortelli's conception of the\nfunction of tragedy is, therefore, not an ethical one; the effect of\ntragedy is understood primarily as diminishing pity and fear in our\nminds by accustoming us to the sight of deeds that produce these\nemotions. A similar interpretation of the _katharsis_ is given by\nVettori (1560) and Castelvetro (1570).[153] The latter compares the\nprocess of purgation with the emotions which are excited by a\npestilence. At first the infected populace is crazed by excitement, but\ngradually becomes accustomed to the sight of the disease, and the\nemotions of the people are thus tempered and allayed.\n\nA somewhat different conception of _katharsis_ is that of Maggi.\nAccording to him, we are to understand by purgation the liberation\nthrough pity and fear of passions similar to these, but not pity and\nfear themselves; for Maggi cannot understand how tragedy, which induces\npity and fear in the hearer, should at the same time remove these\nperturbations.[154] Moreover, pity and fear are useful emotions, while\nsuch passions as avarice, lust, anger, are certainly not. In another\nplace, Maggi, relying on citations from Plato, Aristotle, and Alexander\nof Aphrodisias, explains the pleasure we receive from tragedy, by\npointing out that we feel sorrow by reason of the human heart within us,\nwhich is carried out of itself by the sight of misery; while we feel\npleasure because it is human and natural to feel pity. Pleasure and pain\nare thus fundamentally the same.[155] Varchi[156] is at one with Maggi\nin interpreting the _katharsis_ as a purgation, not of pity and fear\nthemselves, but of emotions similar to them.\n\nFor Scaliger (1561) the aim of tragedy, like that of all poetry, is a\npurely ethical one. It is not enough to move the spectators to\nadmiration and dismay, as some critics say AEschylus does; it is also the\npoet's function to teach, to move, and to delight. The poet teaches\ncharacter through actions, in order that we should embrace and imitate\nthe good, and abstain from the bad. The joy of evil men is turned in\ntragedy to bitterness, and the sorrow of good men to joy.[157] Scaliger\nis here following the extreme view of poetic justice which we have found\nexpressed in so many of the Renaissance writers. In the last century,\nDr. Johnson, in censuring Shakespeare for the tragic fate meted out to\nCordelia and other blameless characters, showed himself an inheritor of\nthis Renaissance tradition, just as we shall see that Lessing was in\nother matters. For Scaliger the moral aim of the drama is attained both\nindirectly, by the representation of wickedness ultimately punished and\nvirtue ultimately rewarded, and more directly by the enunciation of\nmoral precepts throughout the play. With the Senecan model before him,\nsuch precepts (_sententiae_) became the very props of tragedy,--_sunt\nenim quasi columnae aut pilae quaedam universae fabricae illius_,--and so\nthey remained in modern classical tragedy. Minturno points out that\nthese _sententiae_ are to be used most in tragedy and least in epic\npoetry.[158]\n\nMinturno also follows Scaliger in conceiving that the purpose of tragedy\nis to teach, to delight, and to move. It teaches by setting before us an\nexample of the life and manners of superior men, who by reason of human\nerror have fallen into extreme unhappiness. It delights us by the beauty\nof its verse, its diction, its song, and the like. Lastly, it moves us\nto wonder, by terrifying us and exciting our pity, thus purging our\nminds of such matters. This process of purgation is likened by Minturno\nto the method of a physician: \"As a physician eradicates, by means of\npoisonous medicine, the perfervid poison of disease which affects the\nbody, so tragedy purges the mind of its impetuous perturbations by the\nforce of these emotions beautifully expressed in verse.\"[159]\n\nAccording to this interpretation of the _katharsis_, tragedy is a mode\nof homoeopathic treatment, effecting the cure of one emotion by means of\na similar one; and we find Milton, in the preface to _Samson Agonistes_,\nexplaining the _katharsis_ in much the same manner:--\n\n     \"Tragedy, as it was anciently composed, hath been ever held the\n     gravest, moralest, and most profitable of all other poems;\n     therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising pity and\n     fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like\n     passions; that is, to temper and reduce them to just measure\n     with a kind of delight, stirred up by reading or seeing those\n     passions well imitated. Nor is nature wanting in her own\n     effects to make good his assertion; for so in physic, things of\n     melancholic hue and quality are used against melancholy, sour\n     against sour, salt to remove salt humours.\"\n\nThis passage has been regarded by Twining, Bernays, and other modern\nscholars as a remarkable indication of Milton's scholarship and critical\ninsight;[160] but after all, it need hardly be said, he was merely\nfollowing the interpretation of the Italian commentators on the\n_Poetics_. Their writings he had studied and knew thoroughly, had\nimbibed all the critical ideas of the Italian Renaissance, and in the\nvery preface from which we have just quoted, filled as it is with ideas\nthat may be traced back to Italian sources, he acknowledges following\n\"the ancients and Italians,\" as of great \"authority and fame.\" Like\nMilton, Minturno conceived of tragedy as having an ethical aim; but both\nMilton and Minturno clearly perceived that by _katharsis_ Aristotle had\nreference not to a moral, but to an emotional, effect.\n\nOne of the most interesting discussions on the meaning of the\n_katharsis_ is to be found in a letter of Sperone Speroni[161] written\nin 1565. His explanation of the passage itself is quite an impossible\none, if only on philological grounds; but his argument is very\ninteresting and very modern. He points out that pity and fear may be\nconceived of as keeping the spirit of men in bondage, and hence it is\nproper that we should be purged of these emotions. But he insists that\nAristotle cannot refer to the complete eradication of pity and fear--a\nconception which is Stoic rather than Peripatetic, for Aristotle does\nnot require us to free ourselves from emotions, but to regulate them,\nsince in themselves they are not bad.\n\n\nIII. _The Characters of Tragedy_\n\nAristotle's conception of the ideal tragic hero is based on the\nassumption that the function of tragedy is to produce the _katharsis_,\nor purgation, of pity and fear,--\"pity being felt for a person who, if\nnot wholly innocent, meets with suffering beyond his deserts; fear\nbeing awakened when the sufferer is a man of like nature with\nourselves.\"[162] From this it follows that if tragedy represents the\nfall of an entirely good man from prosperity to adversity, neither pity\nnor fear is produced, and the result merely shocks and repels us. If an\nentirely bad man is represented as undergoing a change from distress to\nprosperity, not only do we feel no pity and no fear, but even the sense\nof justice is left unsatisfied. If, on the contrary, such a man entirely\nbad falls from prosperity into adversity and distress, the moral sense\nis indeed satisfied, but without the tragic emotions of pity and fear.\nThe ideal hero is therefore morally between the two extremes, neither\neminently good nor entirely bad, though leaning to the side of goodness;\nand the misfortune which falls upon him is the result of some great flaw\nof character or fatal error of conduct.[163]\n\nThis conception of the tragic hero was the subject of considerable\ndiscussion in the Renaissance; in fact, the first instance in Italian\ncriticism of the application of Aristotelian ideas to the theory of\ntragedy is perhaps to be found in the reference of Daniello (1536) to\nthe tragic hero's fate. Daniello, however, understood Aristotle's\nmeaning very incompletely, for he points out that tragedy, in order to\nimitate most perfectly the miserable and the terrible, should not\nintroduce just and virtuous men fallen into vice and injustice through\nthe adversity of fortune, for this is more wicked than it is miserable\nand terrible, nor should evil men, on the contrary, be introduced as\nchanged by prosperity into good and just men.[164] Here Daniello\nconceives of tragedy as representing the change of a man from vice to\nvirtue, or from virtue to vice, through the medium of prosperity or\nmisfortune. This is a curious misconception of Aristotle's meaning.\nAristotle refers, not to the ethical effect of tragedy, but to the\neffect of the emotions of pity and terror upon the mind of the\nspectator, although of course he does not wish the catastrophe to shock\nthe moral sense or the sense of justice.\n\nGiraldi Cintio, some years after Daniello, follows Aristotle more\nclosely in the conception of the tragic hero; and he affirms, moreover,\nthat tragedy may end happily or unhappily so long as it inspires pity\nand terror. Now, Aristotle has expressly stated his disapprobation of\nthe happy ending of tragedy, for in speaking of tragedies with a double\nthread and a double catastrophe, that is, tragedies in which the good\nare ultimately rewarded and the bad punished, he shows that such a\nconclusion is decidedly against the general tragic effect.[165]\nScaliger's conception of the moral function of the tragic poet as\nrewarding virtue and punishing vice is therefore inconsistent with the\nAristotelian conception; for, as Scaliger insists that every tragedy\nshould end unhappily, it follows that only the good must survive and\nonly the bad suffer. Another critic of this time, Capriano (1555),\npoints out that the fatal ending of tragedy is due to the inability of\ncertain illustrious men to conduct themselves with prudence; and this is\nmore in keeping with Aristotle's true meaning.[166]\n\nIt has been seen that Aristotle regarded a perfectly good man as not\nfitted to be the ideal hero of tragedy. Minturno, however, asserts that\ntragedy is grave and illustrious because its characters are illustrious,\nand that therefore he can see no reason, despite Aristotle, why the\nlives of perfect men or Christian saints should not be represented on\nthe stage, and why even the life of Christ would not be a fit subject\nfor tragedy.[167] This is, indeed, Corneille's opinion, and in the\n_examen_ of his _Polyeucte_ he cites Minturno in justification of his\nown case. As regards the other characters of tragedy, Minturno states a\ncurious distinction between characters fit for tragedy and those fit for\ncomedy.[168] In the first place, he points out that no young girls, with\nthe exception of female slaves, should appear in comedy, for the reason\nthat the women of the people do not appear in public until marriage, and\nwould be sullied by the company of the low characters of comedy, whereas\nthe maidens of tragedy are princesses, accustomed to meet and converse\nwith noblemen from girlhood. Secondly, married women are always\nrepresented in comedy as faithful, in tragedy as unfaithful to their\nhusbands, for the reason that comedy concludes with friendship and\ntranquillity, and unfaithful relations could never end happily, while\nthe love depicted in tragedy serves to bring about the tragic ruin of\ngreat houses. Thirdly, in comedy old men are often represented as in\nlove, but never in tragedy, for an amorous old man is conducive to\nlaughter, which comedy aims at producing, but which would be wholly out\nof keeping with the gravity required in tragedy. These distinctions are\nof course deduced from the practice of the Latin drama--the tragedies of\nSeneca on the one hand, and the comedies of Plautus and Terence on the\nother.\n\nIn a certain passage of Aristotle's _Poetics_ there is a formulation of\nthe requirements of character-drawing in the drama.[169] In this passage\nAristotle says that the characters must be good; that they must be drawn\nwith propriety, that is, in keeping with the type to which they belong;\nthat they must be true to life, something quite distinct either from\ngoodness or propriety; and that the characters must be self-consistent.\nThis passage gave rise to a curious conception of character in the\nRenaissance and throughout the period of classicism. According to this,\nthe conception of _decorum_, it was insisted that every old man should\nhave such and such characteristics, every young man certain others, and\nso on for the soldier, the merchant, the Florentine or Parisian, and the\nlike. This fixed and formal mode of regarding character was connected\nwith the distinction of rank as the fundamental difference between the\ncharacters of tragedy and comedy, and it was really founded on a\npassage in Horace's _Ars Poetica_,--\n\n    \"AEtatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores,\"[170]\n\nand on the rhetorical descriptions of the various characteristics of men\nin the second book of Aristotle's _Rhetoric_.\n\nThe explanation of the Renaissance conception of _decorum_ may start\nfrom either of two points of view. In the first place, it is to be noted\nthat Horace, and after him the critics of the Renaissance, set about to\ntranspose to the domain of poetry the tentative distinctions of\ncharacter formulated by Aristotle, in the _Rhetoric_, simply for the\npurposes of rhetorical exposition. These distinctions, it must be\nrepeated, were rhetorical and not aesthetic, and they are therefore not\nalluded to by Aristotle in the _Poetics_. The result of the attempt to\ntranspose them to the domain of poetry led to a hardening and\ncrystallization of character in the classic drama. But the aesthetic\nmisconception implied by such an attempt is only too obvious. In such a\nsystem poetry is held accountable, not to the ideal truth of human life,\nbut to certain arbitrary, or at best merely empirical, formulae of\nrhetorical theory. The Renaissance was in this merely doing for\ncharacter what was being done for all the other elements of art. Every\nsuch element, when once discriminated and definitely formulated, became\nfixed as a necessary and inviolable substitute for the reality which had\nthus been analyzed.\n\nBut we may look at the principle of _decorum_ from another point of\nview. A much deeper question--the question of social distinctions--is\nhere involved. The observance of _decorum_ necessitated the maintenance\nof the social distinctions which formed the basis of Renaissance life\nand of Renaissance literature. It was this same tendency which caused\nthe tragedy of classicism to exclude all but characters of the highest\nrank. Speaking of narrative poetry, Muzio (1551), while allowing kings\nto mingle with the masses, considers it absolutely improper for one of\nthe people, even for a moment, to assume the sceptre.[171] Accordingly,\nmen as distinguished by the accidents of rank, profession, country, and\nnot as distinguished by that only which art should take cognizance of,\ncharacter, became the subjects of the literature of classicism; and in\nso far as this is true, that literature loses something of the\nprofundity and the universality of the highest art.\n\nThis element of _decorum_ is to be found in all the critics of the\nRenaissance from the time of Vida[172] and Daniello.[173] So essential\nbecame the observance of _decorum_ that Muzio and Capriano both\nconsidered it the most serious charge to be made against Homer, that he\nwas not always observant of it. Capriano, comparing Virgil with Homer,\nasserts that the Latin poet surpasses the Greek in eloquence, in\ndignity, in grandeur of style, but beyond everything in _decorum_.[174]\nThe seeming vulgarity of some of Homer's similes, and even of the\nactions of some of his characters, appeared to the Renaissance a most\nserious blemish; and it was this that led Scaliger to rate Homer not\nonly below Virgil, but even below Musaeus. In Minturno and Scaliger we\nfind every detail of character minutely analyzed. The poet is told how\nyoung men and old men should act, should talk, and should dress; and no\ndeviations from these fixed formulae were allowed under any\ncircumstances. As a result of this, even when the poet liberated himself\nfrom these conceptions, and aimed at depicting character in its true\nsense, we find character, but never the development of character,\nportrayed in the neo-classic drama. The character was fixed from the\nbeginning of the play to the end; and it is here that we may find the\norigin of Ben Jonson's conception of \"humours.\" In one of Salviati's\nlectures, _Del Trattato della Poetica_,[175] Salviati defines a humour\nas \"a peculiar quality of nature according to which every one is\ninclined to some special thing more than to any other.\" This would apply\nvery distinctly to the sense in which the Elizabethans used the word.\nThus Jonson himself, in the Induction of _Every Man out of his Humour_,\nafter expounding the medical notion of a humour, says:--\n\n    \"It may, by metaphor, apply itself\n    Unto the general disposition:\n    As when some one peculiar quality\n    Doth so possess a man, that it doth draw\n    All his effects, his spirits, and his powers,\n    In their confluctions, all to run one way,\n    This may be truly said to be a humour.\"\n\nThe origin of the term \"humour,\" in Jonson's sense, has never been\ncarefully studied. Jonson's editors speak of it as peculiar to the\nEnglish language, and as first used in this sense about Jonson's period.\nIt is not our purpose to go further into this question; but Salviati's\ndefinition is close enough to Jonson's to indicate that the origin of\nthis term, as of all other critical terms and critical ideas throughout\nsixteenth-century Europe, must be looked for in the aesthetic literature\nof Italy.[176]\n\n\nIV. _The Dramatic Unities_\n\nIn his definition of tragedy Aristotle says that the play must be\ncomplete or perfect, that is, it must have unity. By unity of plot he\ndoes not mean merely the unity given by a single hero, for, as he says,\n\"infinitely various are the incidents in one man's life which cannot be\nreduced to unity; and so, too, there are many actions of one man out of\nwhich we cannot make one action. Hence the error, as it appears, of all\npoets who have composed a Heracleid, a Theseid, or other poems of the\nkind. They imagine that as Heracles was one man, the story of Heracles\nought also to be a unity.\"[177] This is Aristotle's statement of the\nunity of action. But what is the origin of the two other unities,--the\nunities of time and place? There is in the _Poetics_ but a single\nreference to the time-limit of the tragic action and none whatsoever to\nthe so-called unity of place. Aristotle says that the action of tragedy\nand that of epic poetry differ in length, \"for tragedy endeavors, so far\nas possible, to confine itself to a single revolution of the sun, or but\nslightly to exceed this limit; whereas the epic action has no limits of\ntime.\"[178] This passage is the incidental statement of an historical\nfact; it is merely a tentative deduction from the usual practice of\nGreek tragedy, and Aristotle never conceived of it as an inviolable law\nof the drama. Of the three unities which play so prominent a part in\nmodern classical drama, the unity of action was the main, and, in fact,\nthe only unity which Aristotle knew or insisted on. But from his\nincidental reference to the general time-limits of Greek tragedy, the\nRenaissance formulated the unity of time, and deduced from it also the\nunity of place, to which there is absolutely no reference either in\nAristotle or in any other ancient writer whatever. It is to the Italians\nof the Renaissance, and not to the French critics of the seventeenth\ncentury, that the world owes the formulation of the three unities. The\nattention of scholars was first called to this fact about twenty years\nago, by the brochure of a Swiss scholar, H. Breitinger, on the unities\nof Aristotle before Corneille's _Cid_; but the gradual development and\nformulation of the three unities have never been systematically worked\nout. We shall endeavor here to trace their history during the sixteenth\ncentury, and to explain the processes by which they developed.\n\nThe first reference in modern literature to the doctrine of the unity of\ntime is to be found in Giraldi Cintio's _Discorso sulle Comedie e sulle\nTragedie_. He says that comedy and tragedy agree, among other things, in\nthe limitation of the action to one day or but little more;[179] and he\nhas thus for the first time converted Aristotle's statement of an\nhistorical fact into a dramatic law. Moreover, he has changed\nAristotle's phrase, that tragedy limits itself \"to a single revolution\nof the sun,\" into the more definite expression of \"a single day.\" He\npoints out that Euripides, in the _Heraclidae_, on account of the long\ndistance between the places in the action, had been unable to limit the\naction to one day. Now, as Aristotle must have known many of the best\nGreek dramas which are now lost, it was probably in keeping with the\npractice of such dramas that their actions were not strictly confined\nwithin the limits of one day. Aristotle, therefore, intentionally\nallowed the drama a slightly longer space of time than a single day. The\nunity of time, accordingly, becomes a part of the theory of the drama\nbetween 1540 and 1545, but it was not until almost exactly a century\nlater that it became an invariable rule of the dramatic literature of\nFrance and of the world.\n\nIn Robortelli (1548) we find Aristotle's phrase, \"a single revolution\nof the sun,\" restricted to the artificial day of twelve hours; for as\ntragedy can contain only one single and continuous action, and as people\nare accustomed to sleep in the night, it follows that the tragic action\ncannot be continued beyond one artificial day. This holds good of comedy\nas well as tragedy, for the length of the fable in each is the\nsame.[180] Segni (1549) differs from Robortelli, however, in regarding a\nsingle revolution of the sun as referring not to the artificial day of\ntwelve hours, but to the natural day of twenty-four hours, because\nvarious matters treated in tragedy, and even in comedy, are such as are\nmore likely to happen in the night (adulteries, murders, and the like);\nand if it be said that night is naturally the time for repose, Segni\nanswers that unjust people act contrary to the laws of nature.[181] It\nwas about this time, then, that there commenced the historic controversy\nas to what Aristotle meant by limiting tragedy to one day; and\nthree-quarters of a century later, in 1623, Beni could cite thirteen\ndifferent opinions of scholars on this question.\n\nTrissino, in his _Poetica_ (1563), paraphrases as follows the passage in\nAristotle which refers to the unity of time: \"They also differ in\nlength, for tragedy terminates in one day, that is, one period of the\nsun, or but little more, while there is no time determined for epic\npoetry, as indeed was the custom with tragedy and comedy at their\nbeginning, and is even to-day among ignorant poets.\"[182] Here for the\nfirst time, as a French critic remarks, the observance of the unity of\ntime is made a distinction between the learned and the ignorant\npoet.[183] It is evident that Trissino conceives of the unity of time as\nan artistic principle which has helped to save dramatic poetry from the\nformlessness and chaotic condition of the mediaeval drama. So that the\nunity of time became not only a dramatic law, but one the observation of\nwhich distinguished the dramatic artist from the mere ignorant compiler\nof popular plays.\n\nThere is in none of the writers we have mentioned so far any reference\nto the unity of place, for the simple reason that there is no allusion\nto such a requirement for the drama in Aristotle's _Poetics_. Maggi's\ndiscussion of the unity of time, in his commentary on the _Poetics_\n(1550), is of particular interest as preparing the way for the third\nunity. Maggi attempts to explain logically the reason for the unity of\ntime.[184] Why should tragedy be limited as to time, and not epic\npoetry? According to him, this difference is to be explained by the fact\nthat the drama is represented on the stage before our eyes, and if we\nshould see the actions of a whole month performed in about the time it\ntakes to perform the play, that is, two or three hours, the performance\nwould be absolutely incredible. For example, says Maggi, if in a tragedy\nwe should send a messenger to Egypt, and he would return in an hour,\nwould not the spectator regard this as ridiculous? In the epic, on the\ncontrary, we do not see the actions performed, and so do not feel the\nneed of limiting them to any particular time. Now, it is to be noted\nhere that this limitation of time is based on the idea of\nrepresentation. The duration of the action of the drama itself must\nfairly coincide with the duration of its representation on the stage.\nThis is the principle which led to the acceptance of the unity of place,\nand upon which it is based. Limit the time of the action to the time of\nrepresentation, and it follows that the place of the action must be\nlimited to the place of representation. Such a limitation is of course a\npiece of realism wholly out of keeping with the true dramatic illusion;\nbut it was almost exclusively in the drama that classicism tended toward\na minuter realism than could be justified by the Aristotelian canons. In\nMaggi the beginnings of the unity of place are evident, inasmuch as he\nfinds that the requirements of the representation do not permit a\nmessenger or any character in the drama to be sent very far from the\nplace where the action is being performed. The closer action and\nrepresentation coincide, the clearer becomes the necessity of a\nlimitation in place as well as in time; and it was on this principle\nthat Scaliger and Castelvetro, somewhat later, formulated the three\nunities.\n\nThere is, indeed, in Scaliger (1561) no direct statement of the unity of\ntime; but the reference to it is nevertheless unmistakable. First of\nall, Scaliger requires that the events be so arranged and disposed that\nthey approach nearest to actual truth (_ut quam proxime accedant ad\nveritatem_).[185] This is equivalent to saying that the duration of the\naction, its place, its mode of procedure, must correspond more or less\nexactly with the representation itself. The dramatic poet must aim,\nbeyond all things, at reproducing the actual conditions of life. The\n_verisimile_, the _vraisemblable_, in the etymological sense of these\nwords, must be the final criterion of dramatic composition. It is not\nsufficient that the spectator should be satisfied with the action as\ntypical of similar actions in life. An absolutely perfect illusion must\nprevail; the spectator must be moved by the actions of the play exactly\nas if they were those of real life.\n\nThis notion of the _verisimile_, and of its effect of perfect illusion\non the spectator's mind, prevailed throughout the period of classicism,\nand was vigorously defended by no less a critic than Voltaire himself.\nAccordingly, as Maggi first pointed out, if the playwright, in the few\nhours it takes to represent the whole play, requires one of his\ncharacters to perform an action that cannot be done in less than a\nmonth, this impression of actual truth and perfect illusion will not be\nleft on the spectator's mind. \"Therefore,\" says Scaliger, \"those battles\nand assaults which take place about Thebes in the space of two hours do\nnot please me; no sensible poet should make any one move from Delphi to\nThebes, or from Thebes to Athens, in a moment's time. Agamemnon is\nburied by AEschylus after being killed, and Lichas is hurled into the sea\nby Hercules; but this cannot be represented without violence to truth.\nAccordingly, the poet should choose the briefest possible argument, and\nshould enliven it by means of episodes and details.... Since the whole\nplay is represented on the stage in six or eight hours, it is not in\naccordance with the exact appearance of truth (_haud verisimile est_)\nthat within that brief space of time a tempest should arise and a\nshipwreck occur, out of sight of land.\"\n\nThe observance of the unity of time could not be demanded in clearer or\nmore forcible terms than this. But it is a mistake to construe this\npassage into a statement of the unity of place.[186] When Scaliger says\nthat the poet should not move any one of the characters from Delphi to\nThebes, or from Thebes to Athens, in a moment's time, he is referring to\nthe exigencies, not of place, but of time. In this, as in many other\nthings, he is merely following Maggi, who, as we have seen, says that it\nis ridiculous for a dramatist to have a messenger go to Egypt with a\nmessage and return in an hour. The characters, according to Scaliger,\nshould not move from Delphi to Thebes in a moment, not because the\naction need necessarily occur in one single place, but because the\ncharacters cannot with any appearance of truth go a great distance in a\nshort space of time. This is an approach to the unity of place, and had\nScaliger followed his contention to its logical conclusion, he must\ncertainly have formulated the three unities. But by requiring the action\nto be disposed with the greatest possible approach to the actual truth,\nor, in other words, by insisting that the action must coincide with the\nrepresentation, Scaliger helped more than any of his predecessors to the\nfinal recognition of the unity of place.\n\nIn Minturno[187] and in Vettori[188] we find a tendency to restrict the\nduration of the epic as well as the tragic action. It has been seen that\nAristotle distinctly says that while the action of tragedy generally\nendeavors to confine itself within a period of about one day, that of\nepic poetry has no determined time. Minturno, however, alludes to the\nunity of time in the following words: \"Whoever examines well the works\nof the most esteemed ancient writers, will find that the action\nrepresented on the stage is terminated in one day, or does not pass\nbeyond the space of two days; while the epic has a longer period of\ntime, except that its action cannot exceed one year in duration.\"[189]\nThis limitation Minturno deduces from the practice of Homer and\nVirgil.[190] The action of the _Iliad_ begins in the tenth year of the\nTrojan war, and lasts one year; the action of the _AEneid_ begins in the\nseventh year after the departure of AEneas from Troy, and also lasts one\nyear.\n\nCastelvetro, however, was the first theorist to formulate the unity of\nplace, and thus to give the three unities their final form. We have\nseen that Castelvetro's theory of the drama was based entirely upon the\nnotion of stage representation. All the essentials of dramatic\nliterature are thus fixed by the exigencies of the stage. The stage is a\ncircumscribed space, and the play must be performed upon it within a\nperiod of time limited by the physical necessities of the spectators. It\nis from these two facts that Castelvetro deduces the unities of time and\nplace. While asserting that Aristotle held it as _cosa fermissima e\nverissima_ that the tragic action cannot exceed the length of an\nartificial day of twelve hours, he does not think that Aristotle himself\nunderstood the real reason of this limitation.[191] In the seventh\nchapter of the _Poetics_ Aristotle says that the length of the plot is\nlimited by the possibility of its being carried in the memory of the\nspectator conveniently at one time. But this, it is urged, would\nrestrict the epic as well as the tragic fable to one day. The difference\nbetween epic and dramatic poetry in this respect is to be found in the\nessential difference between the conditions of narrative and scenic\npoetry.[192] Narrative poetry can in a short time narrate things that\nhappen in many days or months or even years; but scenic poetry, which\nspends as many hours in representing things as it actually takes to do\nthem in life, does quite otherwise. In epic poetry words can present to\nour intellect things distant in space and time; but in dramatic poetry\nthe whole action occurs before our eyes, and is accordingly limited to\nwhat we can actually see with our own senses, that is, to that brief\nduration of time and to that small amount of space in which the actors\nare occupied in acting, and not any other time or place. But as the\nrestricted place is the stage, so the restricted time is that in which\nthe spectators can at their ease remain sitting through a continuous\nperformance; and this time, on account of the physical necessities of\nthe spectators, such as eating, drinking, and sleeping, cannot well go\nbeyond the duration of one revolution of the sun. So that not only is\nthe unity of time an essential dramatic requirement, but it is in fact\nimpossible for the dramatist to do otherwise even should he desire to do\nso--a conclusion which is of course the _reductio ad absurdum_ of the\nwhole argument.\n\nIn another place Castelvetro more briefly formulates the law of the\nunities in the definitive form in which it was to remain throughout the\nperiod of classicism: \"La mutatione tragica non puo tirar con esso seco\nse non una giornata e un luogo.\"[193] The unities of time and place are\nfor Castelvetro so very important that the unity of action, which is for\nAristotle the only essential of the drama, is entirely subordinated to\nthem. In fact, Castelvetro specifically says that the unity of action is\nnot essential to the drama, but is merely made expedient by the\nrequirements of time and place. \"In comedy and tragedy,\" he says, \"there\nis usually one action, not because the fable is unfitted to contain more\nthan one action, but because the restricted space in which the action\nis represented, and the limited time, twelve hours at the very most, do\nnot permit of a multitude of actions.\"[194] In a similar manner\nCastelvetro applies the law of the unities to epic poetry. Although the\nepic action can be accomplished in many places and at diverse times, yet\nas it is more commendable and pleasurable to have a single action, so it\nis better for the action to confine itself to a short time and to but\nfew places. In other words, the more the epic attempts to restrict\nitself to the unities of place and time, the better, according to\nCastelvetro, it will be.[195] Moreover, Castelvetro was not merely the\nfirst one to formulate the unities in their definitive form, but he was\nalso the first to insist upon them as inviolable laws of the drama; and\nhe refers to them over and over again in the pages of his commentary on\nthe _Poetics_.[196]\n\nThis then is the origin of the unities. Our discussion must have made it\nclear how little they deserve the traditional title of Aristotelian\nunities, or as a recent critic with equal inaccuracy calls them, the\nScaligerian unities (_unites scaligeriennes_).[197] Nor were they, as we\nhave seen, first formulated in France, though this was the opinion of\nthe seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Thus Dryden says that \"the\nunity of place, however it might be practised by the ancients, was\nnever one of their rules: we neither find it in Aristotle, Horace, or\nany who have written of it, till in our age the French poets first made\nit a precept of the stage.\"[198] It may be said, therefore, that just as\nthe unity of action is _par excellence_ the Aristotelian unity, so the\nunities of time and place are beyond a doubt the Italian unities. They\nenter the critical literature of Europe from the time of Castelvetro,\nand may almost be said to be the last contributions of Italy to literary\ncriticism. Two years after their formulation by Castelvetro they were\nintroduced into France, and a dozen years after this formulation, into\nEngland. It was not until 1636, however, that they became fixed in\nmodern dramatic literature, as a result of the _Cid_ controversy. This\nis approximately a hundred years after the first mention of the unity of\ntime in Italian criticism.\n\n\nV. _Comedy_\n\nThe treatment of comedy in the literary criticism of this period is\nentirely confined to a discussion and elaboration of the little that\nAristotle says on the subject of comedy in the _Poetics_. Aristotle, it\nwill be remembered, had distinguished tragedy from comedy in that the\nformer deals with the nobler, the latter with the baser, sort of\nactions. Comedy is an imitation of characters of a lower type than those\nof tragedy,--characters of a lower type indeed, but not in the full\nsense of the word bad. \"The ludicrous is merely a subdivision of the\nugly. It may be defined as a defect or ugliness which is not painful or\ndestructive. Thus, for example, the comic mask is ugly and distorted,\nbut does not cause pain.\"[199] From these few hints the Italian\ntheorists constructed a body of comic doctrine. There is, however, in\nthe critical literature of this period no attempt to explain the theory\nof the indigenous Italian comedy, the _commedia dell' arte_. The\nclassical comedies of Plautus and Terence were the models, and\nAristotle's _Poetics_ the guide, of all the discussions on comedy during\nthe Renaissance. The distinction between the characters of comedy and\ntragedy has already been explained in sufficient detail. All that\nremains to be done in treating of comedy is to indicate as briefly as\npossible such definitions of it as were formulated by the Renaissance,\nand the special function which the Renaissance understood comedy to\npossess.\n\nAccording to Trissino (1563), the comic poet deals only with base\nthings, and for the single purpose of chastising them. As tragedy\nattains its moral end through the medium of pity and fear, comedy does\nso by means of the chastisement and vituperation of things that are base\nand evil.[200] The comic poet, however, is not to deal with all sorts of\nvices, but only such as give rise to ridicule, that is, the jocose\nactions of humble and unknown persons. Laughter proceeds from a certain\ndelight or pleasure arising from the sight of objects of ugliness.\nWe do not laugh at a beautiful woman, a gorgeous jewel, or beautiful\nmusic; but a distortion or deformity, such as a silly speech, an ugly\nface, or a clumsy movement, makes us laugh. We do not laugh at the\nbenefits of others; the finder of a purse, for example, arouses not\nlaughter but envy. But we do laugh at some one who has fallen into the\nmud, because, as Lucretius says, it is sweet to find in others some evil\nnot to be found in ourselves. Yet great evils, so far from causing us to\nlaugh, arouse pity and fear, because we are apprehensive lest such\nthings should happen to us. Hence we may conclude that a slight evil\nwhich is neither sad nor destructive, and which we perceive in others\nbut do not believe to be in ourselves, is the primary cause of the\nludicrous.[201] In Maggi's treatise, _De Ridiculis_, appended to his\ncommentary on the _Poetics_, the Aristotelian conception of the\nridiculous is accepted, with the addition of the element of _admiratio_.\nMaggi insists on the idea of suddenness or novelty; for we do not laugh\nat painless ugliness if it be very familiar or long continued.[202]\n\nAccording to Robortelli (1548), comedy, like all other forms of poetry,\nimitates the manners and actions of men, and aims at producing laughter\nand light-heartedness. But what produces laughter? The evil and obscene\nmerely disgust good men; the sad and miserable cause pity and fear. The\nbasis of laughter is therefore to be found in what is only slightly mean\nor ugly (_subturpiculum_). The object of comedy, according to the\nconsensus of Renaissance opinion, is therefore to produce laughter for\nthe purpose of rendering the minor vices ridiculous. Muzio (1551) indeed\ncomplains, as both Sidney and Ben Jonson do later, that the comic\nwriters of his day were more intent on producing laughter than on\ndepicting character or manners:--\n\n      \"Intenta al riso\n    Piu ch' a i costumi.\"\n\nBut Minturno points out that comedy is not to be contemned because it\nexcites laughter; for by comic hilarity the spectators are kept from\nbecoming buffoons themselves, and by the ridiculous light in which\namours are placed, are made to avoid such things in future. Comedy is\nthe best corrective of men's morals; it is indeed what Cicero calls it,\n_imitatio vitae, speculum consuetudinis, imago veritatis_. This phrase,\nascribed by Donatus to Cicero, runs through all the dramatic discussions\nof the Renaissance,[203] and finds its echo in a famous passage in\n_Hamlet_. Cervantes cites the phrase in _Don Quixote_;[204] and Il\nLasca, in the prologue to _L'Arzigoglio_, berates the comic writers of\nhis day after this fashion: \"They take no account of the absurdities,\nthe contradictions, the inequalities, and the discrepancies of their\npieces; for they do not seem to know that comedy should be truth's\nimage, the ensample of manners, and the mirror of life.\"\n\nThis is exactly what Shakespeare is contending for when he makes Hamlet\ncaution the players not to \"o'erstep the modesty of nature; for anything\nso overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first\nand now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature; to show\nvirtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body\nof the time his form and pressure.\"[205]\n\nThe high importance which Scaliger (1561) gives to comedy, and in fact\nto satiric and didactic poetry in general, is one of many indications of\nthe incipient formation of neo-classical ideals during the Renaissance.\nHe regards as absurd the statement which he conceives Horace to have\nmade, that comedy is not really poetry; on the contrary, it is the true\nform of poetry, and the first and highest of all, for its matter is\nentirely invented by the poet.[206] He defines comedy as a dramatic poem\nfilled with intrigue (_negotiosum_), written in popular style, and\nending happily.[207] The characters in comedy are chiefly old men,\nslaves, courtesans, all in humble station or from small villages. The\naction begins rather turbulently, but ends happily, and the style is\nneither high nor low. The typical themes of comedy are \"sports,\nbanquets, nuptials, drunken carousals, the crafty wiles of slaves, and\nthe deception of old men.\"[208]\n\nThe theory of comedy in sixteenth-century Italy was entirely classical,\nand the practice of the time agrees with its theory. There are indeed to\nbe heard occasional notes of dissatisfaction and revolt, especially in\nthe prologues of popular plays. Il Lasca, in the prologue to the\n_Strega_, defiantly protests against the inviolable authority of\nAristotle and Horace, and in the prologue to his _Gelosia_ reserves the\nright to copy the manner of his own time, and not those of Plautus and\nTerence. Cecchi, Aretino, Gelli, and other comic writers give expression\nto similar sentiments.[209] But on the whole these protests availed\nnothing. The authors of comedy, and more especially the literary\ncritics, were guided by classical practice and classical theory.\nDramatic forms like the improvised _commedia dell' arte_ had marked\ninfluence on the practice of European comedy in general, especially in\nFrance, but left no traces of their influence on the literary criticism\nof the Italian Renaissance.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[109] _Poet._ vi. 2.\n\n[110] Daniello, p. 34.\n\n[111] _Cf._ Horace, _Ars Poet._ 182 _sq._\n\n[112] Giraldi Cintio, ii. 6.\n\n[113] _Ibid._ ii. 30.\n\n[114] Cited by Butcher, p. 220.\n\n[115] _Poet._ iv. 7.\n\n[116] Maggi, p. 64.\n\n[117] Maggi, p. 154.\n\n[118] Butcher, p. 220 _sq._\n\n[119] Butcher, p. 219, n. 1.--Mueller, ii. 394, attempts to harmonize the\ndefinition of Theophrastus with that of Aristotle.\n\n[120] Egger, _Hist. de la Critique_, p. 344, n. 2.\n\n[121] Cloetta, i. 29. _Cf._ Antiphanes, cited by Egger, p. 72.\n\n[122] Cloetta, p. 30.\n\n[123] _Etymol._ viii. 7, 6.\n\n[124] _Etymol._ xviii. 45 and 46.\n\n[125] Cloetta, p. 28, and p. 31 _sq._\n\n[126] _Epist._ xi. 10. _Cf._ Gelli's Lectures on the Divine Comedy, ed.\nNegroni, 1887, i. 37 _sq._\n\n[127] _Poet._ ix. 5-9.\n\n[128] Giraldi Cintio, ii. 14.\n\n[129] Giraldi Cintio, ii. 20.\n\n[130] _Poet._ xi. 6.\n\n[131] _Ars Poet._ 182-188.\n\n[132] Giraldi Cintio, ii. 119.\n\n[133] Scaliger, _Poet._ i. 6.\n\n[134] Scaliger, i. 11; iii. 96.\n\n[135] _Ibid._ vi. 6.\n\n[136] _Ibid._ iii. 96.\n\n[137] _Ibid._ i. 13.\n\n[138] _De Poeta_, p. 43 _sq._\n\n[139] _Ibid._ p. 173. _Cf._ Milton's phrase, \"vain and amatorious poem.\"\n\n[140] Dacier, 1692, p. xvii.\n\n[141] _Poet._ vi. 19.\n\n[142] _Poet._ xiv. 1.\n\n[143] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 30.\n\n[144] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, pp. 22, 23.\n\n[145] _Ibid._ p. 57.\n\n[146] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, pp. 35, 36.\n\n[147] Twining, ii. 3.\n\n[148] Butcher, ch. vi.\n\n[149] Giraldi Cintio, ii. 12.\n\n[150] _Ibid._ i. 66 _sq._\n\n[151] Trissino, ii. 93 _sq._\n\n[152] Robortelli, p. 52 _sq._\n\n[153] Vettori, p. 56 _sq._, and Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 117 _sq._\n\n[154] Maggi, p. 97 _sq._\n\n[155] _Cf._ Shelley, _Defence of Poetry_, p. 35, \"Tragedy delights by\naffording a shadow of that pleasure which exists in pain,\" etc.\n\n[156] _Lezzioni_, p. 660.\n\n[157] Scaliger, _Poet._ vii. i. 3; iii. 96.\n\n[158] _Arte Poetica_, p. 287.\n\n[159] _Arte Poetica_, p. 77.\n\n[160] Butcher, pp. 229, 230.\n\n[161] _Opere_, v. 178.\n\n[162] Butcher, p. 280 _sq._\n\n[163] _Poet._ xiii. 2, 3.\n\n[164] Daniello, p. 38.\n\n[165] _Poet._ xiii. 7.\n\n[166] _Della Vera Poetica_, cap. iii.\n\n[167] _De Poeta_, p. 182 _sq._\n\n[168] _Arte Poetica_, p. 118 _sq._; also in Scaliger and Giraldi Cintio.\n\n[169] _Poet._ xv. 1-5.\n\n[170] _Ars Poet._ 154 _sq._\n\n[171] Muzio, p. 80.\n\n[172] Pope, i. 165.\n\n[173] _Poetica_, p. 36 _sq._\n\n[174] Capriano, _op. cit._, cap. v.\n\n[175] Cod. Magliabechiano, vii. 7, 715.\n\n[176] Another expression of Jonson's, \"small Latin and less Greek,\" may\nperhaps be traced to Minturno's \"poco del Latino e pochissimo del\nGreco,\" _Arte Poetica_, p. 158.\n\n[177] _Poet._ viii. 1-4.\n\n[178] _Poet._ v. 4.\n\n[179] Giraldi Cintio, ii. 10 _sq._\n\n[180] Robortelli, pp. 50, 275, and appendix, p. 45. _Cf._ Luisino's\nCommentary on Horace's _Ars Poetica_, 1554, p. 40.\n\n[181] B. Segni, p. 170 v.\n\n[182] Trissino, ii. 95.\n\n[183] Brunetiere, i. 69.\n\n[184] Maggi, p. 94.\n\n[185] Scaliger, iii. 96. So Robortelli, p. 53, speaks of tragedy as\nrepresenting things _quae multum accedunt ad veritatem ipsam_.\n\n[186] _E.g._ Lintilhac, _De Scal. Poet._ p. 32.\n\n[187] _De Poeta_, pp. 185, 281.\n\n[188] Vettori, p. 250.\n\n[189] _Arte Poet._ pp. 71, 117.\n\n[190] _Ibid._ p. 12.\n\n[191] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, pp. 157, 170.\n\n[192] _Ibid._ pp. 57, 109.\n\n[193] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 534. _Cf._ Boileau, _Art Poet._ iii.\n45.\n\n[194] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 179.\n\n[195] _Ibid._ pp. 534, 535.\n\n[196] Other allusions to the unities, besides those already mentioned,\nwill be found in Castelvetro, _Poetica_, pp. 163-165, 168-171, 191, 397,\n501, 527, 531-536, 692, 697, etc.\n\n[197] Lintilhac, in the _Nouvelle Revue_, lxiv. 541.\n\n[198] _Essay of Dramatic Poesy_, p. 31.\n\n[199] _Poet._ v. 1. _Cf._ _Rhet._ iii. 18.\n\n[200] Trissino, ii. 120. _Cf._ Butcher, p. 203 _sq._\n\n[201] Trissino, ii. 127-130. Trissino seems to follow Cicero, _De Orat._\nii. 58 _sq._ It is to these Italian discussions of the ludicrous that\nthe theory of laughter formulated by Hobbes, and after him by Addison,\nowes its origin. For Renaissance discussions of wit and humor before the\nintroduction of Aristotle's _Poetics_, _cf._ the third and fourth books\nof Pontano's _De Sermone_, and the second book of Castiglione's\n_Cortigiano_.\n\n[202] Maggi, p. 307. _Cf._ Hobbes, _Human Nature_, 1650, ix. 13.\n\n[203] _Cf._ B. Tasso, ii. 515; Robortelli, p. 2; etc.\n\n[204] _Don Quix._ iv. 21.\n\n[205] _Hamlet_, iii. 2.\n\n[206] Scaliger, _Poet._ i. 2. Castiglione, in the second book of the\n_Cortigiano_, says that the comic writer, more than any other, expresses\nthe true image of human life.\n\n[207] _Poet._ i. 5.\n\n[208] _Poet._ iii. 96.\n\n[209] Symonds, _Ren. in Italy_, v. 124 _sq._, 533 _sq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE THEORY OF EPIC POETRY\n\n\nEPIC poetry was held in the highest esteem during the Renaissance and\nindeed throughout the period of classicism. It was regarded by Vida as\nthe highest form of poetry,[210] and a century later, despite the\nsuccess of tragedy in France, Rapin still held the same opinion.[211]\nThe reverence for the epic throughout the Renaissance may be ascribed in\npart to the mediaeval veneration of Virgil as a poet, and his popular\napotheosis as prophet and magician, and also in part to the decay into\nwhich dramatic literature had fallen during the Middle Ages in the hands\nof the wandering players, the _histriones_ and the _vagantes_.\nAristotle[212] indeed had regarded tragedy as the highest form of\npoetry; and as a result, the traditional reverence for Virgil and Homer,\nand the Renaissance subservience to Aristotle, were distinctly at\nvariance. Trissino (1561) paraphrases Aristotle's argument in favor of\ntragedy, but points out, notwithstanding this, that the whole world is\nunanimous in considering Virgil and Homer greater than any tragic poet\nbefore or after them.[213] Placed in this quandary, he concludes by\nleaving the reader to judge for himself whether epic or tragedy be the\nnobler form.\n\n\nI. _The Theory of the Epic Poem_\n\nVida's _Ars Poetica_, written before 1520, although no edition prior to\nthat of 1527 is extant, is the earliest example in modern times of that\nclass of critical poems to which belong Horace's _Ars Poetica_,\nBoileau's _Art Poetique_, and Pope's _Essay on Criticism_. Vida's poem\nis entirely based on that of Horace; but he substitutes epic for\nHorace's dramatic studies, and employs the _AEneid_ as the model of an\nepic poem. The incompleteness of the treatment accorded to epic poetry\nin Aristotle's _Poetics_ led the Renaissance to deduce the laws of\nheroic poetry and of poetic artifice in general from the practice of\nVirgil; and it is to this point of view that the critical works on the\n_AEneid_ by Regolo (1563), Maranta (1564), and Toscanella (1566) owe\ntheir origin. The obvious and even accidental qualities of Virgil's poem\nare enunciated by Vida as fundamental laws of epic poetry. The precepts\nthus given are purely rhetorical and pedagogic in character, and deal\nalmost exclusively with questions of poetic invention, disposition,\npolish, and style. Beyond this Vida does not attempt to go. There is in\nhis poem no definition of the epic, no theory of its function, no\nanalysis of the essentials of narrative structure. In fact, no theory of\npoetry in any real sense is to be found in Vida's treatise.\n\nDaniello(1536) deals only very cursorily with epic poetry, but his\ndefinition of it strikes the keynote of the Renaissance conception.\nHeroic poetry is for him an imitation of the illustrious deeds of\nemperors and other men magnanimous and valorous in arms,[214]--a\nconception that goes back to Horace's\n\n    \"Res gestae regumque ducumque et tristia bella.\"[215]\n\nTrissino (1563) first introduced the Aristotelian theory of the epic\ninto modern literary criticism; and the sixth section of his _Poetica_\nis given up almost exclusively to the treatment of heroic poetry. The\nepic agrees with tragedy in dealing with illustrious men and illustrious\nactions. Like tragedy it must have a single action, but it differs from\ntragedy in not having the time of the action limited or determined.\nWhile unity of action is essential to the epic, and is indeed what\ndistinguishes it from narrative poems that are not really epics, the\nRenaissance conceived of vastness of design and largeness of detail as\nnecessary to the grandiose character of the epic poem.[216] Thus Muzio\nsays:--\n\n    \"Il poema sovrano e una pittura\n    De l' universo, e pero in se comprende\n    Ogni stilo, ogni forma, ogni ritratto.\"\n\nTrissino regards _versi sciolti_ as the proper metre for an heroic poem,\nsince the stanzaic form impedes the continuity of the narrative. In this\npoint he finds fault with Boccaccio, Boiardo, and Ariosto, whose\nromantic poems, moreover, he does not regard as epics, because they do\nnot obey Aristotle's inviolable law of the single action. He also finds\nfault with the romantic poets for describing the improbable, since\nAristotle expressly prefers an impossible probability to an improbable\npossibility.\n\nMinturno's definition of epic poetry is merely a modification or\nparaphrase of Aristotle's definition of tragedy. Epic poetry is an\nimitation of a grave and noble deed, perfect, complete, and of proper\nmagnitude, with embellished language, but without music or dancing; at\ntimes simply narrating and at other times introducing persons in words\nand actions; in order that, through pity and fear of the things\nimitated, such passions may be purged from the mind with both pleasure\nand profit.[217] Here Minturno, like Giraldi Cintio, ascribes to epic\npoetry the same purgation of pity and fear effected by tragedy. Epic\npoetry he rates above tragedy, since the epic poet, more than any other,\narouses that admiration of great heroes which it is the peculiar\nfunction of the poet to excite, and therefore attains the end of poetry\nmore completely than any other poet. This, however, is true only in the\nhighest form of narrative poetry; for Minturno distinguishes three\nclasses of narrative poets, the lowest, or _bucolici_, the mediocre, or\n_epici_, who have nothing beyond verse, and the highest, or _heroici_,\nwho imitate the life of a single hero in noble verse.[218] Minturno\ninsists fundamentally on the unity of the epic action; and directly\nagainst Aristotle's statement, as we have seen, he restricts the\nduration of the action to one year. The license and prolixity of the\n_romanzi_ led the defenders of the classical epic to this extreme of\nrigid circumspection. According to Scaliger, the epic, which is the norm\nby which all other poems may be judged and the chief of all poems,\ndescribes _heroum genus_, _vita_, gesta_.[219] This is the Horatian\nconception of the epic, and there is in Scaliger little or no trace of\nthe Aristotelian doctrine. He also follows Horace closely in forbidding\nthe narrative poet to begin his poem from the very beginning of his\nstory (_ab ovo_), and in various other details.\n\nCastelvetro (1570) differs from Aristotle in regard to the unity of the\nepic fable, on the ground that poetry is merely imaginative history, and\ncan therefore do anything that history can do. Poetry follows the\nfootsteps of history, differing merely in that history narrates what has\nhappened, while poetry narrates what has never happened but yet may\npossibly happen; and therefore, since history recounts the whole life of\na single hero, without regard to its unity, there is no reason why\npoetry should not do likewise. The epic may in fact deal with many\nactions of one person, one action of a whole race, or many actions of\nmany people; it need not necessarily deal with one action of one person,\nas Aristotle enjoins, but if it does so it is simply to show the\ningenuity and excellence of the poet.[220]\n\n\nII. _Epic and Romance_\n\nThis discussion of epic unity leads to one of the most important\ncritical questions of the sixteenth century,--the question of the unity\nof romance. Ariosto's _Orlando Furioso_ and Boiardo's _Orlando\nInnamorato_ were written before the Aristotelian canons had become a\npart of the critical literature of Italy. When it became clear that\nthese poems diverged from the fundamental requirements of the epic as\nexpounded in the _Poetics_, Trissino set out to compose an heroic poem\nwhich would be in perfect accord with the precepts of Aristotle. His\n_Italia Liberata_, which was completed by 1548, was the result of twenty\nyears of study, and it is the first modern epic in the strict\nAristotelian sense. With Aristotle as his guide, and Homer as his model,\nhe had studiously and mechanically constructed an epic of a single\naction; and in the dedication of his poem to the Emperor Charles V. he\ncharges all poems which violate this primary law of the single action\nwith being merely bastard forms. The _romanzi_, and among them the\n_Orlando Furioso_, in seemingly disregarding this fundamental\nrequirement, came under Trissino's censure; and this started a\ncontroversy which was not to end until the commencement of the next\ncentury, and in a certain sense may be said to remain undecided even to\nthis day.\n\nThe first to take up the cudgels in defence of the writers of the\n_romanzi_ was Giraldi Cintio, who in his youth had known Ariosto\npersonally, and who wrote his _Discorso intorno al comporre dei\nRomanzi_, in April, 1549. The grounds of his defence are twofold. In the\nfirst place, Giraldi maintains that the romance is a poetic form of\nwhich Aristotle did not know, and to which his rules therefore do not\napply; and in the second place, Tuscan literature, differing as it does\nfrom the literature of Greece in language, in spirit, and in religious\nfeeling, need not and indeed ought not to follow the rules of Greek\nliterature, but rather the laws of its own development and its own\ntraditions. With Ariosto and Boiardo as models, Giraldi sets out to\nformulate the laws of the _romanzi_. The _romanzi_ aim at imitating\nillustrious actions in verse, with the purpose of teaching good morals\nand honest living, since this ought to be the aim of every poet, as\nGiraldi conceives Aristotle himself to have said.[221] All heroic poetry\nis an imitation of illustrious actions, but Giraldi, like Castelvetro\ntwenty years later, recognizes several distinct forms of heroic poetry,\naccording as to whether it imitates one action of one man, many actions\nof many men, or many actions of one man. The first of these is the epic\npoem, the rules of which are given in Aristotle's _Poetics_. The second\nis the romantic poem, after the manner of Boiardo and Ariosto. The third\nis the biographical poem, after the manner of the _Theseid_ and similar\nworks dealing with the whole life of a single hero.\n\nThese forms are therefore to be regarded as three distinct and\nlegitimate species of heroic poetry, the first of them being an epic\npoem in the strict Aristotelian sense, and the two others coming under\nthe general head of _romanzi_. Of the two forms of _romanzi_, the\nbiographical deals preferably with an historical subject, whereas the\nnoblest writers of the more purely romantic form, dealing with many\nactions of many men, have invented their subject-matter. Horace says\nthat an heroic poem should not commence at the very beginning of the\nhero's life; but it is difficult to understand, says Giraldi, why the\nwhole life of a distinguished man, which gives us so great and refined a\npleasure in the works of Plutarch and other biographers, should not\nplease us all the more when described in beautiful verse by a good\npoet.[222] Accordingly, the poet who is composing an epic in the strict\nsense should, in handling the events of his narrative, plunge\nimmediately _in medias res_. The poet dealing with many actions of many\nmen should begin with the most important event, and the one upon which\nall the others may be said to hinge; whereas the poet describing the\nlife of a single hero should begin at the very beginning, if the hero\nspent a really heroic youth, as Hercules for example did. The poem\ndealing with the life of a hero is thus a separate _genre_, and one for\nwhich Aristotle does not attempt to lay down any laws. Giraldi even goes\nso far as to say that Aristotle[223] censured those who write the life\nof Theseus or Hercules in a single poem, not because they dealt with\nmany actions of one man, but because they treated such a poem in exactly\nthe same manner as those who dealt with a single action of a single\nhero,--an assertion which is of course utterly absurd. Giraldi then\nproceeds to deal in detail with the disposition and composition of the\n_romanzi_, which he rates above the classical epics in the efficacy of\nethical teaching. It is the office of the poet to praise virtuous\nactions and to condemn vicious actions; and in this the writers of the\n_romanzi_ are far superior to the writers of the ancient heroic\npoems.[224]\n\nGiraldi's discourse on the _romanzi_ gave rise to a curious dispute with\nhis own pupil, Giambattista Pigna, who published a similar work,\nentitled _I Romanzi_, in the same year (1554). Pigna asserted that he\nhad suggested to Giraldi the main argument of the discourse, and that\nGiraldi had adopted it as his own. Without entering into the details of\nthis controversy, it would seem that the priority of Giraldi cannot\nfairly be contested.[225] At all events, there is a very great\nresemblance between the works of Giraldi and Pigna. Pigna's treatise,\nhowever, is more detailed than Giraldi's. In the first book, Pigna deals\nwith the general subject of the _romanzi_; in the second he gives a life\nof Ariosto, and discusses the _Furioso_, point by point; in the third he\ndemonstrates the good taste and critical acumen of Ariosto by comparing\nthe first version of the _Furioso_ with the completed and perfected\ncopy.[226] Both Pigna and Giraldi consider the _romanzi_ to constitute\na new _genre_, unknown to the ancients, and therefore not subject to\nAristotle's rules. Giraldi's sympathies were in favor of the\nbiographical form of the _romanzi_, and his poem, the _Ercole_ (1557),\nrecounts the whole life of a single hero. Pigna, who keeps closer to the\ntradition of Ariosto, regards the biographical form as not proper to\npoetry, because too much like history.\n\nThese arguments, presented by Giraldi and Pigna, were answered by\nSperoni, Minturno, and others. Speroni pointed out that while it is not\nnecessary for the romantic poets to follow the rules prescribed by the\nancients, they cannot disobey the fundamental laws of poetry. \"The\n_romanzi_,\" says Speroni, \"are epics, which are poems, or they are\nhistories in verse, and not poems.\"[227] That is, how does a poem differ\nfrom a well-written historical narrative, if the former be without\norganic unity?[228] As to the whole discussion, it may be said here,\nwithout attempting to pass judgment on Ariosto, or any other writer of\n_romanzi_, that unity of some sort every true poem must necessarily\nhave; and, flawless as the _Orlando Furioso_ is in its details, the\nunity of the poem certainly has not the obviousness of perfect, and\nespecially classical, art. A work of art without organic unity may be\ncompared with an unsymmetrical circle; and, while the _Furioso_ is not\nto be judged by any arbitrary or mechanical rules of unity, yet if it\nhas not that internal unity which transcends all mere external form, it\nmay be considered, as a work of art, hardly less than a failure; and\nthe farther it is removed from perfect unity, the more imperfect is the\nart. \"Poetry adapts itself to its times, but cannot depart from its own\nfundamental laws.\"[229]\n\nMinturno's answer to the defenders of the _romanzi_ is more detailed and\nexplicit than Speroni's, and it is of considerable importance because of\nits influence on Torquato Tasso's conception of epic poetry. Minturno\ndoes not deny--and in this his point of view is identical with\nTasso's--that it is possible to employ the matter of the _romanzi_ in\nthe composition of a perfect poem. The actions they describe are great\nand illustrious, their knights and ladies are noble and illustrious,\ntoo, and they contain in a most excellent manner that element of the\nmarvellous which is so important an element in the epic action. It is\nthe structure of the _romanzi_ with which Minturno finds fault. They\nlack the first essential of every form of poetry,--unity. In fact, they\nare little more than versified history or legend; and, while expressing\nadmiration for the genius of Ariosto, Minturno cannot but regret that he\nso far yielded to the popular taste of his time as to employ the method\nof the _romanzi_. He approves of the suggestion of Bembo, who had tried\nto persuade Ariosto to write an epic instead of a romantic poem,[230]\njust as later, and for similar reasons, Gabriel Harvey attempted to\ndissuade Spenser from continuing the _Faerie Queene_. Minturno denies\nthat the Tuscan tongue is not well adapted to the composition of heroic\npoetry; on the contrary, there is no form of poetry to which it is not\nadmirably fitted. He denies that the romantic poem can be distinguished\nfrom the epic on the ground that the actions of knights-errant require a\ndifferent and broader form of narrative than do those of the classical\nheroes. The celestial and infernal gods and demi-gods of the ancients\ncorrespond with the angels, saints, anchorites, and the one God of\nChristianity; the ancient sibyls, oracles, enchantresses, and divine\nmessengers correspond with the modern necromancers, fates, magicians,\nand celestial angels. To the claim of the romantic poets that their\npoems approximate closer to that magnitude which Aristotle enjoins as\nnecessary for all poetry, Minturno answers that magnitude is of no avail\nwithout proportion; there is no beauty in the giant whose limbs and\nframe are distorted. Finally, the _romanzi_ are said to be a new form of\npoetry unknown to Aristotle and Horace, and hence not amenable to their\nlaws. But time, says Minturno, cannot change the truth; in every age a\npoem must have unity, proportion, magnitude. Everything in nature is\ngoverned by some specific law which directs its operation; and as it is\nin nature so it is in art, for art tries to imitate nature, and the\nnearer it approaches nature in her essential laws, the better it does\nits work. In other words, as has already been pointed out, poetry adapts\nitself to its times, but cannot depart from its own laws.\n\nBernardo Tasso, the father of Torquato, had originally been one of the\ndefenders of the classical epic; but he seems to have been converted to\nthe opposite view by Giraldi Cintio, and in his poem of the _Amadigi_ he\nfollows romantic models. His son Torquato, in his _Discorsi dell' Arte\nPoetica_, originally written one or two years after the appearance of\nMinturno's _Arte Poetica_, although not published until 1587, was the\nfirst to attempt a reconciliation of the epic and romantic forms; and he\nmay be said to have effected a solution of the problem by the\nformulation of the theory of a narrative poem which would have the\nromantic subject-matter, with its delightful variety, and the epic form,\nwith its essential unity. The question at issue, as we have seen, is\nthat of unity; that is, does the heroic poem need unity? Tasso denies\nthat there is any difference between the epic poem and the romantic poem\nas poems. The reason why the latter is more pleasing, is to be found in\nthe fact of the greater delightfulness of the themes treated.[231]\nVariety in itself is not pleasing, for a variety of disagreeable things\nwould not please at all. Hence the perfect and at the same time most\npleasing form of heroic poem would deal with the chivalrous themes of\nthe _romanzi_, but would possess that unity of structure which,\naccording to the precepts of Aristotle and the practice of Homer and\nVirgil, is essential to every epic. There are two sorts of unity\npossible in art as in nature,--the simple unity of a chemical element,\nand the complex unity of an organism like an animal or plant,--and of\nthese the latter is the sort of unity that the heroic poet should aim\nat.[232] Capriano (1555) had referred to this same distinction, when he\npointed out that poetry ought not to be the imitation of a single act,\nsuch as a single act of weeping in the elegy, or a single act of\npastoral life in the eclogue, for such a sporadic imitation is to be\ncompared to a picture of a single hand without the rest of the body; on\nthe contrary, poetry ought to be the representation of a number of\nattendant or dependent acts, leading from a given beginning to a\nsuitable end.[233]\n\nHaving settled the general fact that the attractive themes of the\n_romanzi_ should be employed in a perfect heroic poem, we may inquire\nwhat particular themes are most fitted to the epic, and what must be the\nessential qualities of the epic material.[234] In the first place, the\nsubject of the heroic poem must be historical, for it is not probable\nthat illustrious actions such as are dealt with in the epic should be\nunknown to history. The authority of history gains for the poet that\nsemblance of truth necessary to deceive the reader and make him believe\nthat what the poet writes is true. Secondly, the heroic poem, according\nto Tasso, must deal with the history, not of a false religion, but of\nthe true one, Christianity. The religion of the pagans is absolutely\nunfit for epic material; for if the pagan deities are not introduced,\nthe poem will lack the element of the marvellous, and if they are\nintroduced it will lack the element of probability. Both the marvellous\nand the _verisimile_ must exist together in a perfect epic, and\ndifficult as the task may seem, they must be reconciled. Another reason\nwhy paganism is unfit for the epic is to be found in the fact that the\nperfect knight must have piety as well as other virtues. In the third\nplace, the poem must not deal with themes connected with the articles of\nChristian faith, for such themes would be unalterable, and would allow\nno scope to the free play of the poet's inventive fancy. Fourthly, the\nmaterial must be neither too ancient nor too modern, for the latter is\ntoo well known to admit of fanciful changes with probability, and the\nformer not only lacks interest but requires the introduction of strange\nand alien manners and customs. The times of Charlemagne and Arthur are\naccordingly best fitted for heroic treatment. Finally, the events\nthemselves must possess nobility and grandeur. Hence an epic should be a\nstory derived from some event in the history of Christian peoples,\nintrinsically noble and illustrious, but not of so sacred a character as\nto be fixed and immutable, and neither contemporary nor very remote. By\nthe selection of such material the poem gains the authority of history,\nthe truth of religion, the license of fiction, the proper atmosphere in\npoint of time, and the grandeur of the events themselves.[235]\n\nAristotle says that both epic and tragedy deal with illustrious actions.\nTasso points out that if the actions of tragedy and of epic poetry were\nboth illustrious in the same way, they would both produce the same\nresults; but tragic actions move horror and compassion, while epic\nactions as a rule do not and need not arouse these emotions. The tragic\naction consists in the unexpected change of fortune, and in the grandeur\nof the events carrying with them horror and pity; but the epic action is\nfounded upon undertakings of lofty martial virtue, upon deeds of\ncourtesy, piety, generosity, none of which is proper to tragedy. Hence\nthe characters in epic poetry and in tragedy, though both of the same\nregal and supreme rank, differ in that the tragic hero is neither\nperfectly good nor entirely bad, as Aristotle says, while the epic hero\nmust have the very height of virtue, such as AEneas, the type of piety,\nAmadis, the type of loyalty, Achilles, of martial virtue, and Ulysses,\nof prudence.\n\nHaving formulated these theories of heroic poetry in his youth, Tasso\nset out to carry them into practice, and his famous _Gerusalemme\nLiberata_ was the result. This poem, almost immediately after its\npublication, started a violent controversy, which raged for many years,\nand which may be regarded as the legitimate outcome of the earlier\ndispute in connection with the _romanzi_.[236] The _Gerusalemme_ was in\nfact the centre of critical activity during the latter part of the\ncentury. Shortly after its publication, Camillo Pellegrino published a\ndialogue, entitled _Il Caraffa_ (1583), in which the _Gerusalemme_ is\ncompared with the _Orlando Furioso_, much to the advantage of the\nformer. Pellegrino finds fault with Ariosto on account of the lack of\nunity of his poem, the immoral manners imitated, and various\nimperfections of style and language; and in all of these things, unity,\nmorality, and style, he finds Tasso's poem perfect. This was naturally\nthe signal for a heated and long-continued controversy. The Accademia\ndella Crusca had been founded at Florence, in 1582, and it seems that\nthe members of the new society felt hurt at some sarcastic remarks\nregarding Florence in one of Tasso's dialogues. Accordingly, the head of\nthe academy, Lionardo Salviati, in a dialogue entitled _L' Infarinato_,\nwrote an ardent defence of Ariosto; and an acrid and undignified dispute\nbetween Tasso and Salviati was begun.[237] Tasso answered the Accademia\ndella Crusca in his _Apologia_; and at the beginning of the next\ncentury, Paolo Beni, the commentator on Aristotle's _Poetics_, published\nhis _Comparazione di Omero, Virgilio, e Torquato_, in which Tasso is\nrated above Homer, Virgil, and Ariosto, not only in dignity, in beauty\nof style, and in unity of fable, but in every other quality that may be\nsaid to constitute perfection in poetry. Before dismissing this whole\nmatter, it should be pointed out that the defenders of Aristotle had\nabsolutely abandoned the position of Giraldi and Pigna, that the\n_romanzi_ constitute a _genre_ by themselves, and are therefore not\nsubject to Aristotle's law of unity. The question as Giraldi had stated\nit was this: Does every poem need to have unity? The question as\ndiscussed in the Tasso controversy had changed to this form: What is\nunity? It was taken for granted by both sides in the controversy that\nevery poem must have organic unity; and the authority of Aristotle, in\nepic as in dramatic poetry, was henceforth supreme. It was to the\nauthority of Aristotle that Tasso's opponents appealed; and Salviati,\nmerely for the purpose of undermining Tasso's pretensions, wrote an\nextended commentary on the _Poetics_, which still lies in Ms. at\nFlorence, and which has been made use of in the present essay.[238]\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[210] Pope, i. 133.\n\n[211] Rapin, 1674, ii. 2.\n\n[212] _Poet._ xxvi.\n\n[213] Trissino, ii. 118 _sq._\n\n[214] Daniello, p. 34.\n\n[215] _Ars Poet._ 73.\n\n[216] Trissino, ii. 112 _sq._\n\n[217] _Arte Poetica_, p. 9.\n\n[218] _De Poeta_, pp. 105, 106.\n\n[219] _Poet._ iii. 95.\n\n[220] Castelvetro, _Poetica_, p. 178 _sq._\n\n[221] Giraldi Cintio, i. 11, 64.\n\n[222] Giraldi Cintio, i. 24.\n\n[223] _Poet._ viii. 2.\n\n[224] Giraldi, i. 66 _sq._\n\n[225] _Cf._ Tiraboschi, vii. 947 _sq._, and Giraldi, ii. 153 _sq._\nPigna's own words are cited in Giraldi, i. p. xxiii.\n\n[226] Canello, p. 306 _sq._\n\n[227] Speroni, v. 521.\n\n[228] _Cf._ Minturno, _De Poeta_, p. 151.\n\n[229] Minturno, _Arte Poetica_, p. 31. For various opinions on the unity\nof the _Orlando Furioso_, _cf._ Canello, p. 106, and Foffano, p. 59\n_sq._\n\n[230] _Arte Poetica_, p. 31.\n\n[231] T. Tasso, xii. 219 _sq._\n\n[232] T. Tasso, xii. 234.\n\n[233] _Della Vera Poetica_, cap. iii.\n\n[234] T. Tasso, xii. 199 _sq._\n\n[235] T. Tasso, xii. 208.\n\n[236] Accounts of this famous controversy will be found in Tiraboschi,\nCanello, Serassi, etc.; but the latest and most complete is that given\nin the twentieth chapter of Solerti's monumental _Vita di Torquato\nTasso_, Torino, 1895.\n\n[237] Nearly all the important documents of the Tasso controversy are\nreprinted in Rosini's edition of Tasso, _Opere_, vols. xviii.-xxiii.\n\n[238] The question of unity was also raised in another controversy of\nthe second half of the sixteenth century. A passage in Varchi's\n_Ercolano_ (1570), rating Dante above Homer, started a controversy on\nthe _Divine Comedy_. The most important outcome of this dispute was\nMazzoni's _Difesa di Dante_ (1573), in which a whole new theory of\npoetry is expounded in order to defend the great Tuscan poet.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE GROWTH OF THE CLASSIC SPIRIT IN ITALIAN CRITICISM\n\n\nTHE growth of classicism in Renaissance criticism was due to three\ncauses,--humanism, or the imitation of the classics, Aristotelianism, or\nthe influence of Aristotle's _Poetics_, and rationalism, or the\nauthority of the reason, the result of the growth of the modern spirit\nin the arts and sciences. These three causes are at the bottom of\nItalian classicism, as well as of French classicism during the\nseventeenth century.\n\n\nI. _Humanism_\n\nThe progress of humanism may be distinguished by an arbitrary but more\nor less practical division into four periods. The first period was\ncharacterized by the discovery and accumulation of classical literature,\nand the second period was given up to the arrangement and translation of\nthe works thus discovered. The third period is marked by the formation\nof academies, in which the classics were studied and humanized, and\nwhich as a result produced a special cult of learning. The fourth and\nlast period is marked by the decline of pure erudition, and the\nbeginning of aesthetic and stylistic scholarship.[239] The practical\nresult of the revival of learning and the progress of humanism was thus\nthe study and imitation of the classics. To this imitation of classical\nliterature all that humanism gave to the modern world may be ultimately\ntraced. The problem before us, then, is this: What was the result of\nthis imitation of the classics, in so far as it regards the literary\ncriticism of the Renaissance?\n\nIn the first place, the imitation of the classics resulted in the study\nand cult of external form. Elegance, polish, clearness of design, became\nobjects of study for themselves; and as a result we have the formation\nof aesthetic taste, and the growth of a classic purism, to which many of\nthe literary tendencies of the Renaissance may be traced.[240] Under Leo\nX. and throughout the first half of the sixteenth century, the\nintricacies of style and versification were carefully studied. Vida was\nthe first to lay down laws of imitative harmony;[241] Bembo, and after\nhim Dolce and others, studied the poetic effect of different sounds, and\nthe onomatopoeic value of the various vowels and consonants;[242]\nClaudio Tolomei attempted to introduce classical metres into the\nvernacular;[243] Trissino published subtle and systematic researches in\nTuscan language and versification.[244] Later, the rhetorical treatises\nof Cavalcanti (1565), Lionardi (1554), and Partenio (1560), and the more\npractical manuals of Fanucci (1533), Equicola (1541), and Ruscelli\n(1559), all testify to the tremendous impulse which the imitation of the\nclassics had given to the study of form both in classical and vernacular\nliteratures.\n\nIn Vida's _Ars Poetica_ there are abundant evidences of the rhetorical\nand especially the puristic tendencies of modern classicism. The\nmechanical conception of poetic expression, in which imagination,\nsensibility, and passion are subjected to the elaborate and intricate\nprecepts of art, is everywhere found in Vida's poem. Like Horace, Vida\ninsists on long preparation for the composition of poetry, and warns the\npoet against the indulgence of his first impulses. He suggests as a\npreparation for the composition of poetry, that the poet should prepare\na list of phrases and images for use whenever occasion may demand.[245]\nHe impresses upon the poet the necessity of euphemistic expressions in\nintroducing the subject of his poem; for example, the name of Ulysses\nshould not be mentioned, but he should be referred to as one who has\nseen many men and many cities, who has suffered shipwreck on the return\nfrom Troy, and the like.[246] In such mechanical precepts as these, the\nrhetoric of seventeenth-century classicism is anticipated. Its\nrestraint, its purity, its mechanical side, are everywhere visible in\nVida. A little later, in Daniello, we find similar puristic tendencies.\nHe requires the severe separation of _genres_, decorum and propriety of\ncharacterization, and the exclusion of everything disagreeable from the\nstage. In Partenio's _Della Imitatione Poetica_ (1560), the poet is\nexpressly forbidden the employment of the ordinary words in daily\nuse,[247] and elegance of form is especially demanded. Partenio regards\nform as of superior importance to subject or idea; for those who hear or\nread poetry care more for beauty of diction than for character or even\nthought.[248]\n\nIt is on merely rhetorical grounds that Partenio distinguishes excellent\nfrom mediocre poetry. The good poet, unlike the bad one, is able to give\nsplendor and dignity to the most trivial idea by means of adornments of\ndiction and disposition. This conception seems to have particularly\nappealed to the Renaissance; and Tasso gives expression to a similar\nnotion when he calls it the poet's noblest function \"to make of old\nconcepts new ones, to make of vulgar concepts noble ones, and to make\ncommon concepts his own.\"[249] In a higher and more ideal sense, poetry,\naccording to Shelley, \"makes familiar objects be as if they were not\nfamiliar.\"[250]\n\nIt is in keeping with this rhetorical ideal of classicism that Scaliger\nmakes _electio et sui fastidium_ the highest virtues of the poet.[251]\nAll that is merely popular (_plebeium_) in thought and expression is to\nbe minutely avoided; for only that which proceeds from solid erudition\nis proper to art. The basis of artistic creation is imitation and\njudgment; for every artist is at bottom somewhat of an echo.[252] Grace,\ndecorum, elegance, splendor are the chief excellences of poetry and the\nlife of all excellence lies in measure, that is, moderation and\nproportion. It is in the spirit of this classical purism that Scaliger\nminutely distinguishes the various rhetorical and grammatical figures,\nand carefully estimates their proper place and function in poetry. His\nanalysis and systematization of the figures were immediately accepted by\nthe scholars and grammarians of his time, and have played a large part\nin French education ever since. Another consequence of Scaliger's\ndogmatic teaching, the Latinization of culture, can only be referred to\nhere in passing.[253]\n\nA second result of the imitation of the classics was the paganization of\nRenaissance culture. Classic art is at bottom pagan, and the Renaissance\nsacrificed everything in order to appear classical.[254] Not only did\nChristian literature seem contemptible when compared with classic\nliterature, but the mere treatment of Christian themes offered numerous\ndifficulties in itself. Thus Muzio declares that the ancient fables are\nthe best poetic materials, since they permit the introduction of the\ndeities into poetry, and a poem, being something divine, should not\ndispense with the association of divinity.[255] To bring the God of\nIsrael into poetry, to represent him, as it were, in the flesh,\ndiscoursing and arguing with men, was sacrilege; and to give the events\nof poetic narrative divine authoritativeness, the pagan deities became\nnecessities of Renaissance poetry. Savonarola, in the fifteenth century,\nand the Council of Trent, in the sixteenth, reacted against the\npaganization of literature, but in vain. Despite the Council of Trent,\ndespite Tasso and Du Bartas, the pagan gods held sway over Parnassus\nuntil the very end of the classical period; and in the seventeenth\ncentury, as will be seen, Boileau expressly discourages the treatment of\nChristian themes, and insists that the ancient pagan fables alone must\nform the basis of neo-classical art.\n\nA third result of the imitation of the classics was the development of\napplied, or concrete, criticism. If the foundations of literature, if\nthe formation of style, can result only from a close and judicious\nimitation of classical literature, this problem confronts us: Which\nclassical authors are we to imitate? An answer to this question involves\nthe application of concrete criticism. A reason must be given for one's\npreferences; in other words, they must be justified on principle. The\nliterary controversies of the humanists, the disputes on the subject of\nimitation, of Ciceronianism, and what not, all tended in this direction.\nThe judgment of authors was dependent more or less on individual\nimpressions. But the longer these controversies continued, the nearer\nwas the approach to a literary criticism, justified by appeals to\ngeneral principles, which became more and more fixed and determined; so\nthat the growth of principles, or criteria of judgment in matters of\nliterature, is in reality coterminous with the history of the growth of\nclassicism.[256]\n\nBut one of the most important consequences of the imitation of the\nclassics was that this imitation became a dogma of criticism, and\nradically changed the relations of art and nature in so far as they\ntouch letters and literary criticism. The imitation of the classics\nbecame, in a word, the basis of literary creation. Vida, for example,\naffirms that the poet must imitate classical literature, for only by\nsuch imitation is perfection attainable in modern poetry. In fact, this\nnotion is carried to such an extreme that the highest originality\nbecomes for Vida merely the ingenious translation of passages from the\nclassic poets:--\n\n    \"Haud minor est adeo virtus, si te audit Apollo,\n    Inventa Argivum in patriam convertere vocem,\n    Quam si tute aliquid intactum inveneris ante.\"[257]\n\nMuzio, echoing Horace, urges the poet to study the classics by day and\nby night; and Scaliger, as has been seen, makes all literary creation\ndepend ultimately on judicious imitation: \"Nemo est qui non aliquid de\nEcho.\" As a result, imitation gradually acquired a specialized and\nalmost esoteric meaning, and became in this sense the starting-point of\nall the educational theories of the later humanists. The doctrine of\nimitation set forth by John Sturm, the Strasburg humanist, was\nparticularly influential.[258] According to Sturm, imitation is not the\nservile copying of words and phrases; it is \"a vehement and artistic\napplication of mind,\" which judiciously uses and transfigures all that\nit imitates. Sturm's theory of imitation is not entirely original, but\ncomes through Agricola and Melanchthon from Quintilian.[259] Quintilian\nhad said that the greater part of art consists in imitation; but for the\nhumanists imitation became the chief and almost the only element of\nliterary creation, since the literature of their own time seemed so\nvastly inferior to that of the ancients.\n\nThe imitation of the classics having thus become essential to literary\ncreation, what was to be its relation to the imitation of nature? The\nancient poets seemed to insist that every writer is at bottom an\nimitator of nature, and that he who does not imitate nature diverges\nfrom the purpose and principle of art. A lesson coming from a source so\nauthoritative as this could not be left unheeded by the writers of the\nRenaissance, and the evolution of classicism may be distinguished by the\nchanging point of view of the critics in regard to the relations between\nnature and art. This evolution may be traced in the neo-classical period\nthrough three distinct stages, and these three stages may be indicated\nby the doctrines respectively of Vida, Scaliger, and Boileau.\n\nVida says that it is the first essential of literary art to imitate the\nclassics. This, however, does not prevent him from warning the poet that\nit is his first duty to observe and copy nature:--\n\n    \"Praeterea haud lateat te, nil conarier artem,\n    Naturam nisi ut assimulet, propiusque sequatur.\"\n\nFor Vida, however, as for the later classicists, nature is synonymous\nwith civilized men, perhaps even further restricted to the men of the\ncity and the court; and the study of nature was hardly more for him than\nclose observation of the differences of human character, more especially\nof the external differences which result from diversity of age, rank,\nsex, race, profession, and which may be designated by the term\n_decorum_.[260] The imitation of nature even in this restricted sense\nVida requires on the authority of the ancients. The modern poet should\nimitate nature because the great classical poets have always\nacknowledged her sway:--\n\n    \"Hanc unam vates sibi proposuere magistram.\"\n\nNature has no particular interest for Vida in itself. He accepts the\nclassics as we accept the Scriptures; and nature is to be imitated and\nfollowed because the ancients seem to require it.\n\nIn Scaliger this principle is carried one stage farther. The poet\ncreates another nature and other fortunes as if he were another\nGod.[261] Virgil especially has created another nature of such beauty\nand perfection that the poet need not concern himself with the\nrealities of life, but can go to the second nature created by Virgil for\nthe subject-matter of his imitation. \"All the things which you have to\nimitate, you have according to another nature, that is, Virgil.\"[262] In\nVirgil, as in nature, there are the most minute details of the\nfoundation and government of cities, the management of armies, the\nbuilding and handling of ships, and in fact all the secrets of the arts\nand sciences. What more can the poet desire, and indeed what more can he\nfind in life, and find there with the same certainty and accuracy?\nVirgil has created a nature far more perfect than that of reality, and\none compared with which the actual world and life itself seem but pale\nand without beauty. What Scaliger stands for, then, is the substitution\nof the world of art instead of life as the object of poetic imitation.\nThis point of view finds expression in many of the theorists of his\ntime. Partenio, for example, asserts that art is a firmer and safer\nguide than nature; with nature we can err, but scarcely with art, for\nart eradicates from nature all that is bad, while nature mingles weeds\nwith flowers, and does not distinguish vices from virtues.[263]\n\nBoileau carries the neo-classical ideal of nature and art to its\nultimate perfection. According to him, nothing is beautiful that is not\ntrue, and nothing is true that is not in nature. Truth, for classicism,\nis the final test of everything, including beauty; and hence to be\nbeautiful poetry must be founded on nature. Nature should therefore be\nthe poet's sole study, although for Boileau, as for Vida, nature is one\nwith the court and the city. Now, in what way can we discover exactly\nhow to imitate nature, and perceive whether or not we have imitated it\ncorrectly? Boileau finds the guide to the correct imitation of nature,\nand the very test of its correctness, in the imitation of the classics.\nThe ancients are great, not because they are old, but because they are\ntrue, because they knew how to see and to imitate nature; and to imitate\nantiquity is therefore to use the best means the human spirit has ever\nfound for expressing nature in its perfection.[264] The advance of\nBoileau's theory on that of Vida and Scaliger is therefore that he\nfounded the rules and literary practice of classical literature on\nreason and nature, and showed that there is nothing arbitrary in the\nauthority of the ancients. For Vida, nature is to be followed on the\nauthority of the classics; for Boileau, the classics are to be followed\non the authority of nature and reason. Scaliger had shown that such a\npoet as Virgil had created another nature more perfect than that of\nreality, and that therefore we should imitate this more beautiful nature\nof the poet. Boileau, on the contrary, showed that the ancients were\nsimply imitating nature itself in the closest and keenest manner, and\nthat by imitating the classics the poet was not imitating a second and\ndifferent nature, but was being shown in the surest way how to imitate\nthe real and only nature. This final reconciliation of the imitation of\nnature and the imitation of the classics was Boileau's highest\ncontribution to the literary criticism of the neo-classical period.\n\n\nII. _Aristotelianism_\n\nThe influence of Aristotle's _Poetics_ is first visible in the dramatic\nliterature of the early sixteenth century. Trissino's _Sofonisba_\n(1515), usually accounted the first regular modern tragedy, Rucellai's\n_Rosmunda_ (1516), and innumerable other tragedies of this period, were\nin reality little more than mere attempts at putting the Aristotelian\ntheory of tragedy into practice. The Aristotelian influence is evident\nin many of the prefaces of these plays, and in a few contemporary works\nof scholarship, such as the _Antiquae Lectiones_ (1516) of Caelius\nRhodiginus, whom Scaliger called _omnium doctissimus praeceptor noster_.\nAt the same time, the _Poetics_ did not immediately play an important\npart in the critical literature of Italy. From the time of Petrarch,\nAristotle, identified in the minds of the humanists with the mediaeval\nscholasticism so obnoxious to them, had lost somewhat of his supremacy;\nand the strong Platonic tendencies of the Renaissance had further\ncontributed to lower the prestige of Aristotelianism among the\nhumanists. At no time of the Renaissance, however, did Aristotle lack\nardent defenders, and Filelfo, for example, wrote in 1439, \"To defend\nAristotle and the truth seems to me one and the same thing.\"[265] In the\ndomain of philosophy the influence of Aristotle was temporarily\nsustained by the liberal Peripateticism of Pomponazzi; and numerous\nothers, among them Scaliger himself, continued the traditions of a\nmodernized Aristotelianism. From this time, however, Aristotle's\nposition as the supreme philosopher was challenged more and more; and he\nwas regarded by the advanced thinkers of the Renaissance as the\nrepresentative of the mediaeval obscurantism that opposed the progress of\nmodern scientific investigation.\n\nBut whatever of Aristotle's authority was lost in the domain of\nphilosophy was more than regained in the domain of literature. The\nbeginning of the Aristotelian influence on modern literary theory may be\nsaid to date from the year 1536, in which year Trincaveli published a\nGreek text of the _Poetics_, Pazzi his edition and Latin version, and\nDaniello his own _Poetica_. Pazzi's son, in dedicating his father's\nposthumous work, said that in the _Poetics_ \"the precepts of poetic art\nare treated by Aristotle as divinely as he has treated every other form\nof knowledge.\" In the very year that this was said, Ramus gained his\nMaster's degree at the University of Paris by defending victoriously the\nthesis that Aristotle's doctrines without exception are all false.[266]\nThe year 1536 may therefore be regarded as a turning-point in the\nhistory of Aristotle's influence. It marks the beginning of his\nsupremacy in literature, and the decline of his dictatorial authority in\nphilosophy.\n\nBetween the year 1536 and the middle of the century the lessons of\nAristotle's _Poetics_ were being gradually learned by the Italian\ncritics and poets. By 1550 the whole of the _Poetics_ had been\nincorporated in the critical literature of Italy, and Fracastoro could\nsay that \"Aristotle has received no less fame from the survival of his\n_Poetics_ than from his philosophical remains.\"[267] According to\nBartolommeo Ricci, in a letter to Prince Alfonso, son of Hercules II.,\nDuke of Ferrara, Maggi was the first person to interpret Aristotle's\n_Poetics_ in public.[268] These lectures were delivered some time before\nApril, 1549. As early as 1540, Bartolommeo Lombardi, the collaborator of\nMaggi in his commentary on the _Poetics_, had intended to deliver public\nlectures on the _Poetics_ before a Paduan academy, but died before\naccomplishing his purpose.[269] Numerous public readings on the subject\nof Aristotle and Horace followed those of Maggi,--among them those by\nVarchi, Giraldi Cintio, Luisino, and Trifone Gabrielli; and the number\nof public readings on topics connected with literary criticism, and on\nthe poetry of Dante and Petrarch, increased greatly from this time.\n\nThe number of commentaries on the _Poetics_ itself, published during the\nsixteenth century, is really remarkable. The value of these commentaries\nin general is not so much that they add anything to the literary\ncriticism of the Renaissance, but that their explanations of Aristotle's\nmeaning were accepted by contemporary critics, and became in a way the\nsource of all the literary arguments of the sixteenth century. Nor was\ntheir influence restricted merely to this particular period. They were,\none might almost say, living things to the critics and poets of the\nclassical period in France. Racine, Corneille, and other distinguished\nwriters possessed copies of these commentaries, studied them carefully,\ncited them in their prefaces and critical writings, and even annotated\ntheir own copies of the commentaries with marginal notes, of which some\nmay be seen in the modern editions of their works. In the preface to\nRapin's _Reflexions sur l'Art Poetique_ (1674) there is a history of\nliterary criticism, which is almost entirely devoted to these Italian\ncommentators; and writers like Chapelain and Balzac eagerly argued and\ndiscussed their relative merits.\n\nSeveral of these Italian commentators have been alluded to already.[270]\nThe first critical edition of the _Poetics_ was that of Robortelli\n(1548), and this was followed by those of Maggi (1550) and Vettori\n(1560), both written in Latin, and both exhibiting great learning and\nacumen. The first translation of the _Poetics_ into the vernacular was\nthat by Segni (1549), and this was followed by the Italian commentaries\nof Castelvetro (1570) and Piccolomini (1575). Tasso, after comparing the\nworks of these two commentators, concluded that while Castelvetro had\ngreater erudition and invention, Piccolomini had greater maturity of\njudgment, more learning, perhaps, with less erudition, and certainly\nlearning more Aristotelian and more suited to the interpretation of the\n_Poetics_.[271] The two last sections of Trissino's _Poetica_, published\nin 1563, are little more than a paraphrase and transposition of\nAristotle's treatise. But the curious excesses into which admiration of\nAristotle led the Italian scholars may be gathered from a work published\nat Milan in 1576, an edition of the _Poetics_ expounded in verse,\nBaldini's _Ars Poetica Aristotelis versibus exposita_. The _Poetics_ was\nalso adapted for use as a practical manual for poets and playwrights in\nsuch works as Riccoboni's brief _Compendium Artis Poeticae Aristotelis ad\nusum conficiendorum poematum_ (1591). The last of the great Italian\ncommentaries on the _Poetics_ to have a general European influence was\nperhaps Beni's, published in 1613; but this carries us beyond the\nconfines of the century. Besides the published editions, translations,\nand commentaries, many others were written which may still be found in\nMs. in the libraries of Italy. Reference has already been made to\nSalviati's (1586). There are also two anonymous commentaries dating from\nthis period in Ms. at Florence,--one in the Magliabechiana and the other\nin the Riccardiana. The last work which may be mentioned here is\nBuonamici's _Discorsi Poetici in difesa d' Aristotele_, in which\nAristotle is ardently defended against the attacks of his detractors.\n\nIt was in Italy during this period that the literary dictatorship of\nAristotle first developed, and it was Scaliger to whom the modern world\nowes the formulation of the supreme authority of Aristotle as a critical\ntheorist. Fracastoro had likened the importance of Aristotle's _Poetics_\nto that of his philosophical treatises. Trissino had followed Aristotle\nverbally and almost literally. Varchi had spoken of years of\nAristotelian study as an essential prerequisite for every one who\nentered the field of literary criticism. Partenio, a year before the\npublication of Scaliger's _Poetics_, had asserted that everything\nrelating to tragedy and epic poetry had been settled by Aristotle and\nHorace. But Scaliger went farther still. He was the first to regard\nAristotle as the perpetual lawgiver of poetry. He was the first to\nassume that the duty of the poet is first to find out what Aristotle\nsays, and then to obey these precepts without question. He distinctly\ncalls Aristotle the perpetual dictator of all the arts: \"Aristoteles\nimperator noster, omnium bonarum artium dictator perpetuus.\"[272] This\nis perhaps the first occasion in modern literature in which Aristotle is\ndefinitely regarded as a literary dictator, and the dictatorship of\nAristotle in literature may, therefore, be dated from the year 1561.\n\nBut Scaliger did more than this. He was the first apparently to attempt\nto reconcile Aristotle's _Poetics_, not only with the precepts of Horace\nand the definitions of the Latin grammarians, but with the whole\npractice of Latin tragedy, comedy, and epic poetry. It was in the light\nof this reconciliation, or concord of Aristotelianism with the Latin\nspirit, that Aristotle became for Scaliger a literary dictator. It was\nnot Aristotle that primarily interested him, but an ideal created by\nhimself, and founded on such parts of the doctrine of Aristotle as\nreceived confirmation from the theory or practice of Roman literature;\nand this new ideal, harmonizing with the Latin spirit of the\nRenaissance, became in the course of time one of the foundations of\nclassicism. The influence of Aristotelianism was further augmented by\nthe Council of Trent, which gave to Aristotle's doctrine the same degree\nof authority as Catholic dogma.\n\nAll these circumstances tended to favor the importance of Aristotle in\nItaly during the sixteenth century, and as a result the literary\ndictatorship of Aristotle was by the Italians foisted on Europe for two\ncenturies to come. From 1560 to 1780 Aristotle was regarded as the\nsupreme authority in letters throughout Europe. At no time, even in\nEngland, during and after that period, was there a break in the\nAristotelian tradition, and the influence of the _Poetics_ may be found\nin Sidney and Ben Jonson, in Milton and Dryden, as well as in Shelley\nand Coleridge. Lessing, even in breaking away from the classical\npractice of the French stage, defended his innovations on the authority\nof Aristotle, and said of the _Poetics_, \"I do not hesitate to\nacknowledge, even if I should therefore be held up to scorn in these\nenlightened times, that I consider the work as infallible as the\nElements of Euclid.\"[273] In 1756, a dozen years before Lessing, one of\nthe precursors of the romantic movement in England, Joseph Warton, had\nalso said of the _Poetics_, \"To attempt to understand poetry without\nhaving diligently digested this treatise would be as absurd and\nimpossible as to pretend to a skill in geometry without having studied\nEuclid.\"[274]\n\nOne of the first results of the dictatorship of Aristotle was to give\nmodern literature a body of inviolable rules for the drama and the epic;\nthat is, the dramatic and heroic poets were restricted to a certain\nfixed form, and to certain fixed characters. Classical poetry was of\ncourse the ideal of the Renaissance, and Aristotle had analyzed the\nmethods which these works had employed. The inference seems to have been\nthat by following these rules a literature of equal importance could be\ncreated. These formulae were at the bottom of classical literature, and\nrules which had created such literatures as those of Greece and Rome\ncould hardly be disregarded. As a result, these rules came to be\nconsidered more and more as essentials, and finally, almost as the very\ntests of literature; and it was in consequence of their acceptance as\npoetic laws that the modern classical drama and epic arose. The first\nmodern tragedies and the first modern epics were hardly more than such\nattempts at putting the Aristotelian rules into practice. The cult of\nform during the Renaissance had produced a reaction against the\nformlessness and invertebrate character of mediaeval literature. The\nliterature of the Middle Ages was infinitely inferior to that of the\nancients; mediaeval literature lacked form and structure, classical\nliterature had a regular and definite form. Form then came to be\nregarded as the essential difference between the perfect literatures of\nGreece and Rome, and the imperfect and vulgar literature of the Middle\nAges; and the deduction from this was that, to be classical, the poet\nmust observe the form and structure of the classics. Minturno indeed\nsays that \"the precepts given of old by the ancient masters, and now\nrepeated by me here, are to be regarded merely as common usage, and not\nas inviolable laws which must serve under all circumstances.\"[275] But\nthis was not the general conception of the Renaissance. Muzio, for\nexample, specifically says:--\n\n    \"Queste legge ch' io scrivo e questi esempi\n    Sian, lettore, al tuo dir perpetua norma;\"\n\nand in another place he speaks of a precept he has given, as \"vera,\nferma, e inevitabil legge.\"[276] Scaliger goes still further than this;\nfor, according to him, even the classics themselves are to be judged by\nthese standards and rules. \"It seems to me,\" says Scaliger, \"that we\nought not to refer everything back to Homer, just as though he were the\nnorm, but Homer himself should be referred to the norm.\"[277] In the\nmodern classical period somewhat later, these rules were found to be\nbased on reason:--\n\n    \"These rules of old, discovered not devised,\n    Are nature still, but nature methodized.\"[278]\n\nBut during the Renaissance they were accepted _ex cathedra_ from\nclassical literature.\n\nThe formulation of a fixed body of critical rules was not the only\nresult of the Aristotelian influence. One of the most important of these\nresults, as has appeared, was the rational justification of imaginative\nliterature. With the introduction of Aristotle's _Poetics_ into modern\nEurope the Renaissance was first able to formulate a systematic theory\nof poetry; and it is therefore to the rediscovery of the _Poetics_ that\nwe may be said to owe the foundation of modern criticism. It was on the\nside of Aristotelianism that Italian criticism had its influence on\nEuropean letters; and that this influence was deep and widespread, our\nstudy of the critical literatures of France and England will in part\nshow. The critics with whom we have been dealing are not merely dead\nprovincial names; they influenced, for two whole centuries, not only\nFrance and England, but Spain, Portugal, and Germany as well.\n\nLiterary criticism, in any real sense, did not begin in Spain until the\nvery end of the sixteenth century, and the critical works that then\nappeared were wholly based on those of the Italians. Rengifo's _Arte\nPoetica Espanola_ (1592), in so far as it deals with the theory of\npoetry, is based on Aristotle, Scaliger, and various Italian\nauthorities, according to the author's own acknowledgment. Pinciano's\n_Philosophia Antigua Poetica_ (1596) is based on the same authorities.\nSimilarly, Cascales, in his _Tablas Poeticas_ (1616), gives as his\nauthorities Minturno, Giraldi Cintio, Maggi, Riccoboni, Castelvetro,\nRobortelli, and his own countryman Pinciano. The sources of these and\nall other works written at this period are Italian; and the following\npassage from the _Egemplar Poetico_, written about 1606 by the Spanish\npoet Juan de la Cueva, is a good illustration, not only of the general\ninfluence of the Italians on Spanish criticism, but of the high\nreverence in which the individual Italian critics were held by Spanish\nmen of letters:--\n\n    \"De los primeros tiene Horacio el puesto,\n    En numeros y estilo soberano,\n    Qual en su Arte al mundo es manifesto.\n    Escaligero [_i.e._ Scaliger] hace el paso llano\n    Con general ensenamiento y guia,\n    Lo mismo el docto Cintio [_i.e._ Giraldi Cintio] y Biperano.[279]\n    Maranta[280] es egemplar de la Poesia,\n    Vida el norte, Pontano[281] el ornamento,\n    La luz Minturno qual el sol del dia....\n    Acuden todos a colmar sus vasos\n    Al oceano sacro de Stagira [_i.e._ Aristotle],\n    Donde se afirman los dudosos pasos,\n    Se eterniza la trompa y tierna lira.\"[282]\n\nThe influence of the Italians was equally great in Germany. From\nFabricius to Opitz, the critical ideas of Germany were almost all\nborrowed, directly or indirectly, from Italian sources. Fabricius in his\n_De Re Poetica_ (1584) acknowledges his indebtedness to Minturno,\nPartenio, Pontanus, and others, but above all to Scaliger; and most of\nthe critical ideas by which Opitz renovated modern German literature go\nback to Italian sources, through Scaliger, Ronsard, and Daniel Heinsius.\nNo better illustration of the influence of the Italian critics upon\nEuropean letters could be afforded than that given by Opitz's _Buch von\nder deutschen Poeterei_.[283]\n\nThe influence of Italian criticism on the critical literature of France\nand England will be more or less treated in the remaining portions of\nthis essay. It may be noted here, however, that in the critical writings\nof Lessing there is represented the climax of the Italian tradition in\nEuropean letters, especially on the side of Aristotelianism. Shelley\nrepresents a similar culmination of the Italian tradition in England.\nHis indebtedness to Sidney and Milton, who represent the Italian\ninfluence in the Elizabethan age, and especially to Tasso, whom he\ncontinually cites, is very marked. The debt of modern literature to\nItalian criticism is therefore not slight. In the half century between\nVida and Castelvetro, Italian criticism formulated three things: a\ntheory of poetry, a rigid form for the epic, and a rigid form for the\ndrama. These rigid forms for drama and epic governed the creative\nimagination of Europe for two centuries, and then passed away. But while\nmodern aesthetics for over a century has studied the processes of art,\nthe theory of poetry, as enunciated by the Italians of the sixteenth\ncentury, has not diminished in value, but has continued to pervade the\nfiner minds of men from that time to this.\n\n\nIII. _Rationalism_\n\nThe rationalistic temper may be observed in critical literature almost\nat the very beginning of the sixteenth century. This spirit of\nrationalism is observable throughout the Renaissance; and its general\ncauses may be looked for in the liberation of the human reason by the\nRenaissance, in the growth of the sciences and arts, and in the reaction\nagainst mediaeval sacerdotalism and dogma. The causes of its development\nin literary criticism may be found not only in these but in several\nother influences of the period. The paganization of culture, the growth\nof rationalistic philosophies, with their all-pervading influence on\narts and letters, and moreover the influence of Horace's _Ars Poetica_,\nwith its ideal of \"good sense,\" all tended to make the element of reason\npredominate in literature and in literary criticism.\n\nIn Vida the three elements which are at the bottom of classicism, the\nimitation of the classics, the imitation of nature, and the authority of\nreason, may all be found. Reason is for him the final test of all\nthings:--\n\n    \"Semper nutu rationis eant res.\"[284]\n\nThe function of the reason in art is, first, to serve as a standard in\nthe choice and carrying out of the design, a bulwark against the\noperation of mere chance,[285] and secondly, to moderate the expression\nof the poet's own personality and passion, a bulwark against the morbid\nsubjectivity which is the horror of the classical temperament.[286]\n\nIt has been said of Scaliger that he was the first modern to establish\nin a body of doctrine the principal consequences of the sovereignty of\nthe reason in literature.[287] That was hardly his aim, and certainly\nnot his attainment. But he was, at all events, one of the first modern\ncritics to affirm that there is a standard of perfection for each\nspecific form of literature, to show that this standard may be arrived\nat _a priori_ through the reason, and to attempt a formulation of such\nstandard for each literary form. \"Est in omni rerum genere unum primum\nac rectum ad cuius tum norman, tum rationem caetera dirigenda sunt.\"[288]\nThis, the fundamental assumption of Scaliger's _Poetics_, is also one of\nthe basic ideas of classicism. Not only is there a standard, a norm, in\nevery species of literature, but this norm can be definitely formulated\nand defined by means of the reason; and it is the duty of the critic to\nformulate this norm, and the duty of the poet to study and follow it\nwithout deviating from the norm in any way. Even Homer, as we have seen,\nis to be judged according to this standard arrived at through the\nreason. Such a method cuts off all possibility of novelty of form or\nexpression, and holds every poet, ancient or modern, great or small,\naccountable to one and the same standard of perfection.\n\nThe growth and influence of rationalism in Italian criticism may be best\nobserved by the gradual effect which its development had on the element\nof Aristotelianism. In other words, rationalism changed the point of\nview according to which the Aristotelian canons were regarded in the\nItalian Renaissance. The earlier Italian critics accepted their rules\nand precepts on the authority of Aristotle alone. Thus Trissino, at the\nbeginning of the fifth section of his _Poetica_, finished in 1549,\nalthough begun about twenty years before, says, \"I shall not depart from\nthe rules and precepts of the ancients, and especially Aristotle.\"[289]\nSomewhat later, in 1553, Varchi says, \"Reason _and_ Aristotle are my\n_two_ guides.\"[290] Here the element of the reason first asserts\nitself, but there is no intimation that the Aristotelian canons are in\nthemselves reasonable. The critic has two guides, the individual reason\nand the Aristotelian rules, and each of these two guides is to serve\nwherever the other is found wanting. This same point of view is found a\ndecade later in Tasso, who says that the defenders of the unity of the\nepic poem have made \"a shield of the authority of Aristotle, nor do they\nlack the arms afforded by the reason;\"[291] and similarly, in 1583, Sir\nPhilip Sidney says that the unity of time is demanded \"both by\nAristotle's precept and common reason.\"[292] Here both Tasso and Sidney,\nwhile contending that the particular law under discussion is in itself\nreasonable, speak of Aristotle's _Poetics_ and the reason as separate\nand distinct authorities, and fail to show that Aristotle himself based\nall his precepts upon the reason. In Denores, a few years later, the\ndevelopment is carried one stage farther in the direction of the\nultimate classical attitude, as when he speaks of \"reason and\nAristotle's _Poetics_, which is indeed founded on naught save\nreason.\"[293] This is as far as Italian criticism ever went. It was the\nfunction of neo-classicism in France, as will be seen, to show that such\na phrase as \"reason _and_ Aristotle\" is a contradiction in itself, that\nthe Aristotelian canons and the reason are ultimately reducible to the\nsame thing, and that not only what is in Aristotle will be found\nreasonable, but all that reason dictates for literary observance will be\nfound in Aristotle.\n\nRationalism produced several very important results in literature and\nliterary criticism during the sixteenth century. In the first place, it\ntended to give the reason a higher place in literature than imagination\nor sensibility. Poetry, it will be remembered, was often classified by\nRenaissance critics as one of the logical sciences; and nothing could be\nin greater accord with the neo-classical ideal than the assertion of\nVarchi and others that the better logician the poet is, the better he\nwill be as a poet. Sainte-Beuve gives Scaliger the credit of having\nfirst formulated this theory of literature which subordinates the\ncreative imagination and poetic sensibility to the reason;[294] but the\ncredit or discredit of originating it does not belong exclusively to\nScaliger. This tendency toward the apotheosis of the reason was diffused\nthroughout the sixteenth century, and does not characterize any\nindividual author. The Italian critics of this period were the first to\nformulate the classical ideal that the standard of perfection may be\nconceived of by the reason, and that perfection is to be attained only\nby the realization of this standard.\n\nThe rationalistic spirit also tended to set the seal of disapprobation\non extravagances of any sort. Subjectivity and individualism came to be\nregarded more and more, at least in theory, as out of keeping with\nclassical perfection. Clearness, reasonableness, sociableness, were the\nhighest requirements of art; and any excessive expression of the poet's\nindividuality was entirely disapproved of. Man, not only as a reasonable\nbeing, but also as a social being, was regarded as the basis of\nliterature. Boileau's lines:--\n\n    \"Que les vers ne soient pas votre eternel emploi;\n    Cultivez vos amis, soyez homme de foi;\n    C'est peu d'etre agreable et charmant dans un livre,\n    Il faut savoir encore et converser et vivre,\"[295]\n\nwere anticipated in Berni's _Dialogo contra i Poeti_, written in 1526,\nthough not published until 1537. This charming invective is directed\nagainst the fashionable literature of the time, and especially against\nall professional poets. Writing from the standpoint of a polished and\nrationalistic society, Berni lays great stress on the fact that poetry\nis not to be taken too seriously, that it is a pastime, a recreation for\ncultured people, a mere bagatelle; and he professes to despise those who\nspend all their time in writing verses. The vanity, the uselessness, the\nextravagances, and the ribaldry of the professional poets receive his\nhearty contempt; only those who write verses for pastime merit\napprobation. \"Are you so stupid,\" he cries, \"as to think that I call any\none who writes verses a poet, and that I regard such men as Vida,\nPontano, Bembo, Sannazaro, as mere poets? I do not call any one a poet,\nand condemn him as such, unless he does nothing but write verses, and\nwretched ones at that, and is good for nothing else. But the men I have\nmentioned are not poets by profession.\"[296] Here the sentiments\nexpressed are those of a refined and social age,--the age of Louis XIV.\nno less than that of Leo X.\n\nThe irreligious character of neo-classic art may also be regarded as one\nof the consequences of this rationalistic temper. The combined effect of\nhumanism, essentially pagan, and rationalism, essentially sceptical, was\nnot favorable to the growth of religious feeling in literature.\nClassicism, the result of these two tendencies, became more and more\nrationalistic, more and more pagan; and in consequence, religious poetry\nin any real sense ceased to flourish wherever the more stringent forms\nof classicism prevailed. In Boileau these tendencies result in a certain\ndistinct antagonism to the very forms of Christianity in literature:--\n\n    \"C'est donc bien vainement que nos auteurs decus,\n    Bannissant de leurs vers ces ornemens recus,\n    Pensent faire agir Dieu, ses saints et ses prophetes,\n    Comme ces dieux eclos du cerveau des poetes;\n    Mettent a chaque pas le lecteur en enfer;\n    N'offrent rien qu'Astaroth, Belzebuth, Lucifer.\n    De la foi d'un chretien les mysteres terribles\n    D'ornemens egayes ne sont point susceptibles;\n    L'Evangile a l'esprit n'offre de tous cotes\n    Que penitence a faire et tourmens merites;\n    Et de vos fictions le melange coupable\n    Meme a ses verites donne l'air de la fable.\"[297]\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[239] Symonds, ii. 161, based on Voigt.\n\n[240] _Cf._ Woodward, p. 210 _sq._\n\n[241] Hallam, _Lit. of Europe_, i. 8. 1. _Cf._ Pope, i. 182: \"Omnia sed\nnumeris vocum concordibus aptant,\" etc.\n\n[242] Bembo, _Le Prose_, 1525; Dolce, _Osservationi_, 1550, lib. iv.;\netc.\n\n[243] _Versi e Regole de la Nuova Poesia Toscana_, 1539.\n\n[244] Trissino, _Poetica_, lib. i.-iv., 1529; Tomitano, _Della Lingua\nToscana_, 1545; etc.\n\n[245] Pope, i. 134. _Cf._ De Sanctis, ii. 153 _sq._\n\n[246] Pope, i. 152.\n\n[247] Partenio, p. 80.\n\n[248] _Ibid._ p. 95.\n\n[249] _Opere_, xi. 51.\n\n[250] _Defence_, p. 13.\n\n[251] _Poet._ v. 3.\n\n[252] _Poet._ v. 1; vi. 4.\n\n[253] _Cf._ Brunetiere, p. 53.\n\n[254] Symonds, ii. 395 _sq._\n\n[255] Muzio, p. 94.\n\n[256] _Cf._ Dennis, _Select Works_, 1718, ii. 417 _sq._\n\n[257] Pope, i. 167.\n\n[258] Laas, _Die Paedagogik des Johannes Sturm_, Berlin, 1872, p. 65\n_sq._\n\n[259] _Inst. Orat._ x. 2.\n\n[260] Pope, i. 165.\n\n[261] _Poet._ i. 1.\n\n[262] _Poet._ iii. 4.\n\n[263] Partenio, p. 39 _sq._\n\n[264] _Cf._ Brunetiere, p. 102 _sq._, and Lanson, _Hist. de la Litt.\nfr._, p. 494 _sq._\n\n[265] _Lettres grecques_, ed. Legrand, 1892, p. 31.\n\n[266] \"Quaecunque ab Aristotele dicta sint falsa et commentitia esse;\"\nBayle, _Dict._ s. v. Ramus, note C.\n\n[267] Fracastoro, i. 321.\n\n[268] Tiraboschi, vii. 1465.\n\n[269] Maggi, dedication.\n\n[270] In an appendix to this essay will be found an excerpt from\nSalviati's unpublished commentary on the _Poetics_, giving his judgment\nof the commentators who had preceded him.\n\n[271] Tasso, xv. 20.\n\n[272] _Poet._ vii. ii. 1.\n\n[273] _Hamburg. Dramat._ 101-104.\n\n[274] _Essay on Pope_, 3d ed., i. 171.\n\n[275] _Arte Poetica_, p. 158.\n\n[276] Muzio, pp. 81 v., 76 v.\n\n[277] _Poet._ i. 5.\n\n[278] Pope, _Essay on Criticism_, 88.\n\n[279] Viperano, author of _De Poetica libri tres_, Antwerp, 1579.\n\n[280] Maranta, author of _Lucullanae Quaestiones_, Basle, 1564.\n\n[281] Three writers of the Renaissance bore this name: G. Pontano, the\nfamous Italian humanist and Latin poet, who died in 1503; P. Pontano, of\nBruges, the author of an _Ars Versificatoria_, published in 1520; and J.\nPontanus, a Bohemian Jesuit, author of _Institutiones Poeticae_, first\npublished at Ingolstadt in 1594, and several times reprinted.\n\n[282] Sedano, _Parnaso Espanol_, Madrid, 1774, viii. 40, 41.\n\n[283] _Cf._ Berghoeffer, _Opitz' Buch von der Poeterei_, 1888, and\nBeckherrn, _Opitz, Ronsard, und Heinsius_, 1888. The first reference to\nAristotle's _Poetics_, north of the Alps, is to be found in Luther's\n_Address to the Christian Nobles of the German Nation_, 1520. Schosser's\n_Disputationes de Tragoedia_, published in 1559, two years before\nScaliger's work appeared, is entirely based on Aristotle's _Poetics_.\n\n[284] Pope, i. 155.\n\n[285] _Loc. cit._, beginning, \"Nec te fors inopina regat.\"\n\n[286] Pope, i. 164, beginning, \"Ne tamen ah nimium.\"\n\n[287] Lintilhac, in _Nouvelle Revue_, lxiv. 543.\n\n[288] Scaliger, _Poet._ iii. 11.\n\n[289] Trissino, ii. 92.\n\n[290] Varchi, p. 600.\n\n[291] Tasso, xii. 217.\n\n[292] _Defense of Poesy_, p. 48.\n\n[293] _Discorso_, 1587, p. 39 v.\n\n[294] _Causeries du Lundi_, iii. 44.\n\n[295] _Art Poet._ iv. 121.\n\n[296] Berni, p. 249.\n\n[297] _Art Poet._ iii. 193. _Cf._ Dryden, _Discourse on Satire_, in\n_Works_, xiii. 23 _sq._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nROMANTIC ELEMENTS IN ITALIAN CRITICISM\n\n\nIN the Italian critical literature of the sixteenth century there are to\nbe found the germs of romantic as well as classical criticism. The\ndevelopment of romanticism in Renaissance criticism is due to various\ntendencies, of ancient, of mediaeval, and of modern origin. The ancient\nelement is Platonism; the mediaeval elements are Christianity, and the\ninfluence of the literary forms and the literary subject-matter of the\nMiddle Ages; and the modern elements are the growth of national life and\nnational literatures, and the opposition of modern philosophy to\nAristotelianism.\n\n\nI. _The Ancient Romantic Element_\n\nAs the element of reason is the predominant feature of neo-classicism,\nso the element of imagination is the predominant feature of romanticism;\nand according as the reason or the imagination predominates in\nRenaissance literature, there results neo-classicism or romanticism,\nwhile the most perfect art finds a reconciliation of both elements in\nthe imaginative reason. According to the faculty of reason, when made\nthe basis of literature, the poet is, as it were, held down to earth,\nand art becomes the mere reasoned expression of the truth of life. By\nthe faculty of imagination, the poet is made to create a new world of\nhis own,--a world in which his genius is free to mould whatever its\nimagination takes hold of. This romantic doctrine of the freedom of\ngenius, of inspiration and the power of imagination, in so far as it\nforms a part of Renaissance criticism, owes its origin to Platonism. The\ninfluence of the Platonic doctrines among the humanists has already been\nalluded to. Plato was regarded by them as their leader in the struggle\nagainst mediaevalism, scholasticism, and Aristotelianism. The\nAristotelian dialectic of the Middle Ages appealed exclusively to the\nreason; Platonism gave opportunities for the imagination to soar to\nvague and sublime heights, and harmonize with the divine mysteries of\nthe universe. As regards poetry and imaginative literature in general,\nthe critics of the Renaissance appealed from the Plato of the _Republic_\nand the _Laws_ to the Plato of the _Ion_, the _Phaedrus_, and the\n_Symposium_. Beauty being the subject-matter of art, Plato's praise of\nbeauty was transferred by the Renaissance to poetry, and his praise of\nthe philosopher was transferred to the poet.\n\nThe Aristotelian doctrine defines beauty according to its relations to\nthe external world; that is, poetry is an imitation of nature, expressed\nin general terms. The Platonic doctrine, on the contrary, is concerned\nwith poetry, or beauty, in so far as it concerns the poet's own nature;\nthat is, the poet is divinely inspired and is a creator like God.\nFracastoro, as has been seen, makes the Platonic rapture, the delight in\nthe true and essential beauty of things, the true tests of poetic power.\nIn introducing this Platonic ideal of poetic beauty into modern literary\ncriticism, he defines and distinguishes poetry according to a subjective\ncriterion; and it is according to whether the objective or the\nsubjective conception of art is insisted upon, that we have the classic\nspirit or the romantic spirit. The extreme romanticists, like the\nSchlegels and their contemporaries in Germany, entirely eliminate the\nrelation of poetry to the external world, and in this extreme form\nromanticism becomes identified with the exaggerated subjective idealism\nof Fichte and Schelling. The extreme classicists entirely eliminate the\npoet's personality; that is, poetry is merely reasoned expression, a\nperfected expression of what all men can see in nature, for the poet has\nno more insight into life--no more imagination--than any ordinary,\njudicious person.\n\nThe effects of this Platonic element upon Renaissance criticism were\nvarious. In the first place, it was through the Platonic influence that\nthe relation of beauty to poetry was first made prominent.[298]\nAccording to Scaliger, Tasso, Sidney, another world of beauty is created\nby the poet,--a world that possesses beauty in its perfection as this\nworld never can. The reason alone leaves no place for beauty; and\naccordingly, for the neo-classicists, art was ultimately restricted to\nmoral and psychological observation. Moreover, Platonism raised the\nquestion of the freedom of genius and of the imagination. Of all men,\nonly the poet, as Sidney and others pointed out, is bound down and\nrestricted by no laws. But if poetry is a matter of inspiration, how can\nit be called an art? If genius alone suffices, what need is there of\nstudy and artifice? For the extreme romanticists of this period, genius\nalone was accounted sufficient to produce the greatest works of poetry;\nfor the extreme classicists, studious and labored art unaided by genius\nfulfilled all the functions of poetic creation; but most of the critics\nof the sixteenth century seem to have agreed with Horace that genius, or\nan inborn aptitude, is necessary to begin with, but that it needs art\nand study to regulate and perfect it. Genius cannot suffice without\nrestraint and cultivation.\n\nScaliger, curiously, reconciles both classic and romantic elements. The\npoet, according to Scaliger, is inspired, is in fact a creator like God;\nbut poetry is an imitation (that is, re-creation) of nature, according\nto certain fixed rules obtained from the observation of the anterior\nexpression of nature in great art. It is these rules that make poetry an\nart; and these rules form a distinct neo-classic element imposed on the\nAristotelian doctrine.\n\n\nII. _Mediaeval Elements_\n\nThe Middle Ages contributed to the poetic ideal of the Renaissance two\nelements: romantic themes and the Christian spirit. The forms and\nsubjects of mediaeval literature are distinctly romantic. Dante's _Divine\nComedy_ is an allegorical vision; it is almost unique in form, and has\nno classical prototype.[299] The tendency of Petrarchism was also in the\ndirection of romanticism. Its \"conceits\" and its subjectivity led to an\nunclassical extravagance of thought and expression; and the\nPetrarchistic influence made lyric poetry, and accordingly the criticism\nof lyric poetry, more romantic than any other form of literature or\nliterary criticism during the period of classicism. It was for this\nreason that there was little lyricism in the classical period, not only\nin France, but wherever the classic temper predominated. The themes of\nthe _romanzi_ are also mediaeval and romantic; but while they are\nmediaeval contributions to literature,[300] they became contributions to\nliterary criticism only after the growth of national life and the\ndevelopment of the feeling of nationality, both distinctly modern.\n\nSome reference has already been made to the paganization of culture by\nthe humanists. But with the growth of that revival of Christian\nsentiment which led to the Reformation, there were numerous attempts to\nreconcile Christianity with pagan culture.[301] Such men as Ficino and\nPico della Mirandola attempted to harmonize Christianity and Platonic\nphilosophy; and under the great patron of letters, Pope Leo X., there\nwere various attempts to harmonize Christianity with the classic spirit\nin literature. In such poems as Vida's _Christiad_ and Sannazaro's _De\nPartu Virginis_, Christianity is covered with the drapery of paganism or\nclassicism.\n\nThe first reaction against this paganization of culture was, as has been\nseen, effected by Savonarola. This reaction was reenforced, in the next\ncentury, by the influence and authority of the Council of Trent; and\nafter the middle of the sixteenth century the Christian ideal plays a\nprominent part in literary criticism. The spirit of both Giraldi Cintio\nand Minturno is distinctly Christian. For Giraldi the _romanzi_ are\nChristian, and hence superior to the classical epics. He allows the\nintroduction of pagan deities only into epics dealing with the ancient\nclassical subjects; but Tasso goes further, and says that no modern\nheroic poet should have anything to do with them. According to Tasso,\nthe heroes of an heroic poem must be Christian knights, and the poem\nitself must deal with a true, not a false, religion. The subject is not\nto be connected with any article of Christian faith or dogma, because\nthat was fixed by the Council of Trent; but paganism in any form is\naltogether unfit for a modern epic. Tasso even goes so far as to assert\nthat piety shall be numbered among the virtues of the knightly heroes of\nepic poetry. At the same time also, Lorenzo Gambara wrote his work, _De\nPerfecta Poeseos Ratione_, to prove that it is essential for every poet\nto exclude from his poems, not only everything that is wicked or\nobscene, but also everything that is fabulous or that deals with pagan\ndivinities.[302] It was to this religious reaction that we owe the\nChristian poetry of Tasso, Du Bartas, and Spenser. But humanism was\nstrong, and rationalism was rife; and the religious revival was hardly\nmore than temporary. Neo-classicism throughout Europe was essentially\npagan.\n\n\nIII. _Modern Elements_\n\nThe literature of the Middle Ages constitutes, as it were, one vast body\nof European literature; only with the Renaissance did distinctly\nnational literatures spring into existence. Nationalism as well as\nindividualism was subsequent to the Renaissance; and it was at this\nperiod that the growth of a national literature, of national life,--in a\nword, patriotism in its widest sense,--was first effected.\n\nThe linguistic discussions and controversies of the sixteenth century\nprepared the way for a higher appreciation of national languages and\nliteratures. These controversies on the comparative merits of the\nclassical and vernacular tongues had begun in the time of Dante, and\nwere continued in the sixteenth century by Bembo, Castiglione, Varchi,\nMuzio, Tolomei, and many others; and in 1564 Salviati summed up the\nItalian side of the question in an oration in which he asserted that\nthe Tuscan, or, as he called it, the Florentine language and the\nFlorentine literature are vastly superior to any other language or\nliterature, whether ancient or modern. However extravagant this claim\nmay appear, the mere fact that Salviati made such a claim at all is\nenough to give him a place worthy of serious consideration in the\nhistory of Italian literature. The other side of the controversy finds\nits extremest expression in a treatise of Celio Calcagnini addressed to\nGiraldi Cintio, in which the hope is expressed that the Italian\nlanguage, and all the literature composed in that language, would be\nabsolutely abandoned by the world.[303]\n\nIn Giraldi Cintio we find the first traces of purely national criticism.\nHis purpose, in writing the discourse on the _romanzi_, was primarily to\ndefend Ariosto, whom he had known personally in his youth. The point of\nview from which he starts is that the _romanzi_ constitute a new form of\npoetry of which Aristotle did not know, and to which, therefore,\nAristotle's rules do not apply. Giraldi regarded the romantic poems of\nAriosto and Boiardo both as national and as Christian works; and Italian\nliterature is thus for the first time critically distinguished from\nclassical literature in regard to language, religion, and nationality.\nIn Giraldi's discourse there is no apparent desire either to underrate\nor to disregard the _Poetics_ of Aristotle; the fact was simply that\nAristotle had not known the poems which deal with many actions of many\nmen, and hence it would be absurd to demand that such poems should\nconform to his rules. The _romanzi_ deal with phases of poetry, and\nphases of life, which Aristotle could not be expected to understand.\n\nA similar feeling of the distinct nationality of Italian literature is\nto be found in many of the prefaces of the Italian comedies of this\nperiod. Il Lasca, in the preface of the _Strega_ (_c._ 1555), says that\n\"Aristotle and Horace knew their own times, but ours are not the same at\nall. We have other manners, another religion, and another mode of life;\nand it is therefore necessary to make comedies after a different\nfashion.\" As early as 1534, Aretino, in the prologue of his\n_Cortegiana_, warned his audience \"not to be astonished if the comic\nstyle is not observed in the manner required, for we live after a\ndifferent fashion in modern Rome than they did in ancient Athens.\"\nSimilarly, Gelli, in the dedication of the _Sporta_ (1543), justifies\nthe use of language not to be found in the great sources of Italian\nspeech, on the ground that \"language, together with all other natural\nthings, continually varies and changes.\"[304]\n\nAlthough there is in Giraldi Cintio no fundamental opposition to\nAristotle, it is in his discourse on the _romanzi_ that there may be\nfound the first attempt to wrest a province of art from Aristotle's\nsupreme authority. Neither Salviati, who had rated the Italian language\nabove all others, nor Calcagnini, who had regarded it as the meanest of\nall, had understood the discussion of the importance of the Tuscan\ntongue to be concerned with the question of Aristotle's literary\nsupremacy. It was simply a national question--a question as to the\nnational limits of Aristotle's authority, just as was the case in the\nseveral controversies connected with Tasso, Dante, and Guarini's _Pastor\nFido_.[305] Castelvetro, in his commentary on the _Poetics_, differs\nfrom Aristotle on many occasions, and does not hesitate even to refute\nhim. Yet his reverence for Aristotle is great; his sense of Aristotle's\nsupreme authority is strong; and on one occasion, where Horace,\nQuintilian, and Cicero seem to differ from Aristotle, Castelvetro does\nnot hesitate to assert that they could not have seen the passage of the\n_Poetics_ in question, and that, in fact, they did not thoroughly\nunderstand the true constitution of a poet.[306]\n\nThe opposition to Aristotelianism among the humanists has already been\nalluded to. This opposition increased more and more with the development\nof modern philosophy. In 1536 Ramus had attacked Aristotle's authority\nat Paris. A few years later, in 1543, Ortensio Landi, who had been at\nthe Court of France for some time, published his _Paradossi_, in which\nit is contended that the works which pass under the name of Aristotle\nare not really Aristotle's at all, and that Aristotle himself was not\nonly an ignoramus, but also the most villanous man of his age. \"We have,\nof our own accord,\" he says, \"placed our necks under the yoke, putting\nthat vile beast of an Aristotle on a throne, and depending on his\nconclusions as if he were an oracle.\"[307] It is the philosophical\nauthority of Aristotle that Landi is attacking. His attitude is not that\nof a humanist, for Cicero and Boccaccio do not receive more respectful\ntreatment at his hands than Aristotle does. Landi, despite his mere\neccentricities, represents the growth of modern free thought and the\nantagonism of modern philosophy to Aristotelianism.\n\nThe literary opposition and the philosophical opposition to\nAristotelianism may be said to meet in Francesco Patrizzi, and, in a\nless degree, in Giordano Bruno. Patrizzi's bitter Antiperipateticism is\nto be seen in his _Nova de Universis Philosophia_ (1591), in which the\ndoctrines of Aristotle are shown to be false, inconsistent, and even\nopposed to the doctrines of the Catholic Church. His literary antagonism\nto Aristotle is shown in his remarkable work, _Della Poetica_, published\nat Ferrara in 1586. This work is divided into two parts,--the first\nhistorical, _La Deca Istoriale_, and the second controversial, _La Deca\nDisputata_. In the historical section he attempts to derive the norm of\nthe different poetic forms, not from one or two great works as Aristotle\nhad done, but from the whole history of literature. It is thus the first\nwork in modern times to attempt the philosophical study of literary\nhistory, and to trace out the evolution of literary forms. The second or\ncontroversial section is directed against the _Poetics_ of Aristotle,\nand in part also against the critical doctrines of Torquato Tasso. In\nthis portion of his work Patrizzi sets out to demonstrate--_per istoria,\ne per ragioni, e per autorita de' grandi antichi_--that the accepted\ncritical opinions of his time were without foundation; and the _Poetics_\nof Aristotle himself he exhibits as obscure, inconsistent, and entirely\nunworthy of credence.\n\nSimilar antagonism to the critical doctrines of Aristotle is to be found\nin passages scattered here and there throughout the works of Giordano\nBruno. In the first dialogue of the _Eroici Furori_, published at London\nin 1585, while Bruno was visiting England, he expresses his contempt for\nthe mere pedants who judge poets by the rules of Aristotle's _Poetics_.\nHis contention is that there are as many sorts of poets as there are\nhuman sentiments and ideas, and that poets, so far from being\nsubservient to rules, are themselves really the authors of all critical\ndogma. Those who attack the great poets whose works do not accord with\nthe rules of Aristotle are called by Bruno stupid pedants and beasts.\nThe gist of his argument may be gathered from the following passage:--\n\n     \"TANS. Thou dost well conclude that poetry is not born in\n     rules, or only slightly and accidentally so; the rules are\n     derived from the poetry, and there are as many kinds and sorts\n     of true rules as there are kinds and sorts of true poets.\n\n     CIC. How then are the true poets to be known?\n\n     TANS. By the singing of their verses; in that singing they give\n     delight, or they edify, or they edify and delight together.\n\n     CIC. To whom then are the rules of Aristotle useful?\n\n     TANS. To him who, unlike Homer, Hesiod, Orpheus, and others,\n     could not sing without the rules of Aristotle, and who, having\n     no Muse of his own, would coquette with that of Homer.\"[308]\n\nA similar antagonism to Aristotle and a similar literary individualism\nare to be found in a much later work by Benedetto Fioretti, who under\nthe pseudonym of Udeno Nisieli published the five volumes of his\n_Proginnasmi Poetici_ between 1620 and 1639.[309] Just before the close\nof the sixteenth century, however, the _Poetics_ had obtained an ardent\ndefender against such attacks in the person of Francesco Buonamici, in\nhis _Discorsi Poetici_; and three years later, in 1600, Faustino Summo\npublished a similar defence of Aristotle. The attacks on Aristotle's\nliterary dictatorship were of little avail; it was hardly necessary even\nto defend him. For two centuries to come he was to reign supreme on the\ncontinent of Europe; and in Italy this supremacy was hardly disturbed\nuntil the days of Goldoni and Metastasio.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[298] De Sanctis, ii. 193 _sq._\n\n[299] _Cf._ Bosanquet, _Hist. of AEsthetic_, p. 152 _sq._\n\n[300] _Cf._ Foffano, p. 151 _sq._\n\n[301] Symonds, ii. 470.\n\n[302] Baillet, iii. 70.\n\n[303] Tiraboschi, vii. 1559.\n\n[304] Several similar extracts from Italian comic prologues may be found\nin Symonds, v. 533 _sq._\n\n[305] Foffano, p. 154 _sq._\n\n[306] _Poetica_, p. 32.\n\n[307] _Paradossi_, Venetia, 1545, ii. 29.\n\n[308] _Opere_, ii. 315 (Williams's translation).\n\n[309] _Cf._ the diverse opinions of Tiraboschi, viii. 516, and Hallam,\n_Lit. of Europe_, pt. iii. ch. 7.\n\n\n\n\nPART SECOND\n\n_LITERARY CRITICISM IN FRANCE_\n\n\n\n\nLITERARY CRITICISM IN FRANCE\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE CHARACTER AND DEVELOPMENT OF FRENCH CRITICISM IN THE SIXTEENTH\nCENTURY\n\n\nLITERARY criticism in France, while beginning somewhat later than in\nItaly, preceded the birth of criticism in England and in Spain by a\nnumber of years. Critical activity in nearly all the countries of\nwestern Europe seems to have been ushered in by the translation of\nHorace's _Ars Poetica_ into the vernacular tongues. Critical activity in\nItaly began with Dolce's Italian version of the _Ars Poetica_ in 1535;\nin France, with the French version of Pelletier in 1545; in England,\nwith the English version of Drant in 1567; and in Spain, with the\nSpanish versions of Espinel and Zapata in 1591 and 1592, respectively.\nTwo centuries of literary discussion had prepared the way for criticism\nin Italy; and lacking this period of preparation, French criticism\nduring the sixteenth century was necessarily of a much more practical\ncharacter than that of Italy during the same age. The critical works of\nFrance, and of England also, were on the whole designed for those whose\nimmediate intention it was to write verse themselves. The disinterested\nand philosophic treatment of aesthetic problems, wholly aside from all\npractical considerations, characterized much of the critical activity of\nthe Italian Renaissance, but did not become general in France until the\nnext century. For this reason, in the French and English sections of\nthis essay, it will be necessary to deal with various rhetorical and\nmetrical questions which in the Italian section could be largely\ndisregarded. In these matters, as in the more general questions of\ncriticism, it will be seen that sixteenth-century Italy furnished the\nsource of all the accepted critical doctrines of western Europe. The\ncomparative number of critical works in Italy and in France is also\nnoteworthy. While those of the Italian Renaissance may be counted by the\nscore, the literature of France during the sixteenth century, exclusive\nof a few purely rhetorical treatises, hardly offers more than a single\ndozen. It is evident, therefore, that the treatment of French criticism\nmust be more limited in extent than that of Italian criticism, and\nsomewhat different in character.\n\nThe literature of the sixteenth century in France is divided into two\nalmost equal parts by Du Bellay's _Defense et Illustration de la Langue\nfrancaise_, published in 1549. In no other country of Europe is the\ntransition from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance so clearly marked as\nit is in France by this single book. With the invasion of Italy by the\narmy of Charles VIII. in 1494, the influence of Italian art, of Italian\nlearning, of Italian poetry, had received its first impetus in France.\nBut over half a century was to elapse before the effects of this\ninfluence upon the creative literature of France was universally and\npowerfully felt. During this period the activity of Budaeus, Erasmus,\nDolet, and numerous other French and foreign humanists strengthened the\ncause and widened the influence of the New Learning. But it is only with\nthe birth of the Pleiade that modern French literature may be said to\nhave begun. In 1549 Du Bellay's _Defense_, the manifesto of the new\nschool, appeared. Ronsard's _Odes_ were published in the next year; and\nin 1552 Jodelle inaugurated French tragedy with his _Cleopatre_, and\nfirst, as Ronsard said,\n\n    \"Francoisement chanta la grecque tragedie.\"\n\nThe _Defense_ therefore marks a distinct epoch in the critical as well\nas the creative literature of France. The critical works that preceded\nit, if they may be called critical in any real sense, did not attempt to\ndo more than formulate the conventional notions of rhetorical and\nmetrical structure common to the French poets of the later Middle Ages.\nThe Pleiade itself, as will be more clearly understood later, was also\nchiefly concerned with linguistic and rhetorical reforms; and as late as\n1580 Montaigne could say that there were more poets in France than\njudges and interpreters of poetry.[310] The creative reforms of the\nPleiade lay largely in the direction of the formation of a poetic\nlanguage, the introduction of new _genres_, the creation of new\nrhythms, and the imitation of classical literature. But with the\nimitation of classical literature there came the renewal of the ancient\nsubjects of inspiration; and from this there proceeded a high and\ndignified conception of the poet's office. Indeed, many of the more\ngeneral critical ideas of the Pleiade spring from the desire to justify\nthe function of poetry, and to magnify its importance. The new school\nand its epigones dominate the second half of the sixteenth century; and\nas the first half of the century was practically unproductive of\ncritical literature, a history of French Renaissance criticism is hardly\nmore than an account of the poetic theories of the Pleiade.\n\nThe series of rhetorical and metrical treatises that precede Du Bellay's\n_Defense_ begins with _L'Art de dictier et de fere chancons, balades,\nvirelais et rondeaulx_, written by the poet Eustache Deschamps in 1392,\nover half a century after the similar work of Antonio da Tempo in\nItaly.[311] Toward the close of the fifteenth century a work of the same\nnature, the _Fleur de Rhetorique_, by an author who refers to himself as\nL'Infortune, seems to have had some influence on later treatises. Three\nworks of this sort fall within the first half of the sixteenth century:\nthe _Grand et vrai Art de pleine Rhetorique_ of Pierre Fabri, published\nat Rouen in 1521; the _Rhetorique metrifiee_ of Gracien du Pont,\npublished at Paris in 1539; and the _Art Poetique_ of Thomas Sibilet,\npublished at Paris in 1548. The second part of Fabri's _Rhetorique_\ndeals with questions of versification--of rhyme, rhythm, and the complex\nmetrical form of such poets as Cretin, Meschinot, and Molinet, in whom\nPasquier found _prou de rime et equivoque, mais peu de raison_. As the\n_Rhetorique_ of Fabri is little more than an amplification of the\nsimilar work of L'Infortune, so the work of Gracien du Pont is little\nmore than a reproduction of Fabri's. Gracien du Pont is still chiefly\nintent on _rime equivoquee_, _rime entrelacee_, _rime retrograde_, _rime\nconcatenee_, and the various other mediaeval complexities of\nversification. Sibilet's _Art Poetique_ is more interesting than any of\nits predecessors. It was published a year before the _Defense_ of Du\nBellay, and discusses many of the new _genres_ which the latter\nadvocates. Sibilet treats of the sonnet, which had recently been\nborrowed from the Italians by Mellin de Saint-Gelais, the ode, which had\njust been employed by Pelletier, and the epigram, as practised by Marot.\nThe eclogue is described as \"Greek by invention, Latin by usurpation,\nand French by imitation.\" But one of the most interesting passages in\nSibilet's book is that in which the French morality is compared with the\nclassical drama. This passage exhibits perhaps the earliest trace of the\ninfluence of Italian ideas on French criticism; it will be discussed\nlater in connection with the dramatic theories of this period.\n\nIt is about the middle of the sixteenth century, then, that the\ninfluence of Italian criticism is first visible. The literature of Italy\nwas read with avidity in France. Many educated young Frenchmen\ntravelled in Italy, and several Italian men of letters visited France.\nGirolamo Muzio travelled in France in 1524, and again in 1530 with\nGiulio Camillo.[312] Aretino mentions the fact that a Vincenzo Maggi was\nat the Court of France in 1548, but it has been doubted whether this was\nthe author of the commentary on the _Poetics_.[313] In 1549, after the\ncompletion of the two last parts of his _Poetica_, dedicated to the\nBishop of Arras, Trissino made a tour about France.[314] Nor must we\nforget the number of Italian scholars called to Paris by Francis I.[315]\nThe literary relations between the two countries do not concern us here;\nbut it is no insignificant fact that the great literary reforms of the\nPleiade should take place between 1548 and 1550, the very time when\ncritical activity first received its great impetus in Italy. This\nItalian influence is just becoming apparent in Sibilet, for whom the\npoets between Jean le Maire de Belges and Clement Marot are the chief\nmodels, but who is not wholly averse to the moderate innovations derived\nby France from classical antiquity and the Italian Renaissance.\n\nM. Brunetiere, in a very suggestive chapter of his History of French\nCriticism, regards the _Defense_ of Du Bellay, the _Poetics_ of\nScaliger, and the _Art Poetique_ of Vauquelin de la Fresnaye as the most\nimportant critical works in France during the sixteenth century.[316]\nIt may indeed be said that Du Bellay's _Defense_ (1549) is not in any\ntrue sense a work of literary criticism at all; that Scaliger's\n_Poetics_ (1561) is the work, not of a French critic, but of an Italian\nhumanist; and that Vauquelin's _Art Poetique_ (not published until\n1605), so far as any influence it may have had is concerned, does not\nbelong to the sixteenth century, and can hardly be called important. At\nthe same time these three works are interesting documents in the\nliterary history of France, and represent three distinct stages in the\ndevelopment of French criticism in the sixteenth century. Du Bellay's\nwork marks the beginning of the introduction of classical ideals into\nFrench literature; Scaliger's work, while written by an Italian and in\nLatin, was composed and published in France, and marks the introduction\nof the Aristotelian canons into French criticism; and Vauquelin's work\nindicates the sum of critical ideas which France had gathered and\naccepted in the sixteenth century.\n\nWith Du Bellay's _Defense et Illustration de la Langue francaise_ (1549)\nmodern literature and modern criticism in France may be said to begin.\nThe _Defense_ is a monument of the influence of Italian upon French\nliterary and linguistic criticism. The purpose of the book, as its title\nimplies, is to defend the French language, and to indicate the means by\nwhich it can approach more closely to dignity and perfection. The\nfundamental contention of Du Bellay is, first, that the French language\nis capable of attaining perfection; and, secondly, that it can only hope\nto do so by imitating Greek and Latin. This thesis is propounded and\nproved in the first book of the _Defense_; and the second book is\ndevoted to answering the question: By what specific means is this\nperfection, based on the imitation of the perfection of Greek and Latin,\nto be attained by the French tongue? Du Bellay contends that as the\ndiversity of language among the different nations is ascribable entirely\nto the caprice of men, the perfection of any tongue is due exclusively\nto the diligence and artifice of those who use it. It is the duty,\ntherefore, of every one to set about consciously to improve his native\nspeech. The Latin tongue was not always as perfect as it was in the days\nof Virgil and Cicero; and if these writers had regarded language as\nincapable of being polished and enriched, or if they had imagined that\ntheir language could only be perfected by the imitation of their own\nnational predecessors, Latin would never have arrived at a higher state\nof perfection than that of Ennius and Crassus. But as Virgil and Cicero\nperfected Latin by imitating Greek, so the French tongue can only be\nmade beautiful by imitating Greek, Latin, and Italian, all of which have\nattained a certain share of perfection.[317]\n\nAt the same time, two things must be guarded against. The French tongue\ncannot be improved by merely translating the classic and Italian\ntongues. Translation has its value in popularizing ideas; but by mere\ntranslation no language or literature can hope to attain perfection. Nor\nis a mere bald imitation sufficient; but, in Du Bellay's oft-cited\nphrase, the beauties of these foreign tongues \"must be converted into\nblood and nourishment.\"[318] The classics have \"blood, nerves, and\nbones,\" while the older French writers have merely \"skin and\ncolor.\"[319] The modern French writer should therefore dismiss with\ncontempt the older poets of France, and set about to imitate the Greeks,\nLatins, and Italians. He should leave off composing rondeaux, ballades,\nvirelays, and such _epiceries_, which corrupt the taste of the French\nlanguage, and serve only to show its ignorance and poverty; and in their\nstead he should employ the epigram, which mingles, in Horace's words,\nthe profitable with the pleasant, the tearful elegy, in imitation of\nOvid and Tibullus, the ode, one of the sublimest forms of poetry, the\neclogue, in imitation of Theocritus, Virgil, and Sannazaro, and the\nbeautiful sonnet, an Italian invention no less learned than\npleasing.[320] Instead of the morality and the farce, the poet should\nwrite tragedies and comedies; he should attempt another _Iliad_ or\n_AEneid_ for the glory and honor of France. This is the gist of Du\nBellay's argument in so far as it deals in general terms with the French\nlanguage and literature. The six or seven concluding chapters treat of\nmore minute and detailed questions of language and versification. Du\nBellay advises the adoption of classical words as a means of enriching\nthe French tongue, and speaks with favor of the use of rhymeless verse\nin imitation of the classics. The _Defense_ ends with an appeal to the\nreader not to fear to go and despoil Greece and Rome of their treasures\nfor the benefit of French poetry.[321]\n\nFrom this analysis it will be seen that the _Defense_ is really a\nphilological polemic, belonging to the same class as the long series of\nItalian discussions on the vulgar tongue which begins with Dante, and\nwhich includes the works of Bembo, Castiglione, Varchi, and others. It\nis, as a French critic has said, a combined pamphlet, defence, and _ars\npoetica_;[322] but it is only an _ars poetica_ in so far as it advises\nthe French poet to employ certain poetic forms, and treats of rhythm and\nrhyme in a concluding chapter or two. But curiously enough, the source\nand inspiration of Du Bellay's work have never been pointed out. The\nactual model of the _Defense_ was without doubt Dante's _De Vulgari\nEloquio_, which, in the Italian version of Trissino, had been given to\nthe world for the first time in 1529, exactly twenty years before the\n_Defense_. The two works, allowing for the difference in time and\ncircumstance, resemble each other closely in spirit and purpose as well\nas in contents and design. Du Bellay's work, like Dante's, is divided\ninto two books, each of which is again divided into about the same\nnumber of chapters. The first book of both works deals with language in\ngeneral, and the relations of the vulgar tongue to the ancient and\nmodern languages; the second book of both works deals with the\nparticular practices of the vulgar tongue concerning which each author\nis arguing. Both works begin with a somewhat similar theory of the\norigin of language; both works close with a discussion of the\nversification of the vernacular. The purpose of both books is the\njustification of the vulgar tongue, and the consideration of the means\nby which it can attain perfection; the title of _De Vulgari Eloquio_\nmight be applied with equal force to either treatise. The _Defense_, by\nthis justification of the French language on rational if not entirely\ncogent and consistent grounds, prepared the way for critical activity in\nFrance; and it is no insignificant fact that the first critical work of\nmodern France should have been based on the first critical work of\nmodern Italy. Thirty years later, Henri Estienne, in his _Precellence du\nLangage francois_, could assert that French is the best language of\nancient or modern times, just as Salviati in 1564 had claimed that\npreeminent position for Italian.[323]\n\nIt is not to be expected that so radical a break with the national\ntraditions of France as was implied by Du Bellay's innovations would be\nleft unheeded by the enemies of the Pleiade. The answer came soon, in an\nanonymous pamphlet, entitled _Le Quintil Horatian sur la Defense et\nIllustration de la Langue francoise_. Until a very few years ago, this\ntreatise was ascribed to a disciple of Marot, Charles Fontaine. But in\n1883 an autograph letter of Fontaine's was discovered, in which he\nstrenuously denies the authorship of the _Quintil Horatian_; and more\nrecent researches have shown pretty conclusively that the real author\nwas a friend of Fontaine's, Barthelemy Aneau, head of the College of\nLyons.[324] The _Quintil Horatian_ was first published in 1550, the year\nafter the appearance of the _Defense_.[325] The author informs us that\nhe had translated the whole of Horace's _Ars Poetica_ into French verse\n\"over twenty years ago, before Pelletier or any one else,\" that is,\nbetween 1525 and 1530.[326] This translation was never published, but\nfragments of it are cited in the _Quintil Horatian_. The pamphlet itself\ntakes up the arguments of Du Bellay step by step, and refutes them. The\nauthor finds fault with the constructions, the metaphors, and the\nneologisms of Du Bellay. Aneau's temperament was dogmatic and pedagogic;\nhis judgment was not always good; and modern French critics cannot\nforgive him for attacking Du Bellay's use of such a word as _patrie_.\n\nBut it is not entirely just to speak of the _Quintil Horatian_, in the\nwords of a modern literary historian, as full of futile and valueless\ncriticisms. The author's minute linguistic objections are often\nhypercritical, but his work represents a natural reaction against the\nPleiade. His chief censure of the _Defense_ was directed against the\nintroduction of classical and Italian words into the French language.\n\"Est-ce la defense et illustration,\" he exclaims, \"ou plus tost offense\net denigration?\" He charges the Pleiade with having contemned the\nclassics of French poetry; the new school advocated the disuse of the\ncomplicated metrical forms merely because they were too difficult. The\nsonnet, the ode, and the elegy he dismisses as useless innovations. The\nobject of poetry, according to Horace, is to gladden and please, while\nthe elegy merely saddens and brings tears to the eyes. \"Poetry,\" he\nsays, \"is like painting; and as painting is intended to fill us with\ndelight, and not to sadden us, so the mournful elegy is one of the\nmeanest forms of poetry.\" Aneau is unable to appreciate the high and\nsublime conception of the poet's office which the Pleiade first\nintroduced into French literature; for him the poet is a mere versifier\nwho amuses his audience. He represents the general reaction of the\nnational spirit against the classical innovations of the Pleiade; and\nthe _Quintil Horatian_ may therefore be called the last representative\nwork of the older school of poetry.\n\nIt was at about this period that Aristotle's _Poetics_ first influenced\nFrench criticism. In one of the concluding chapters of the _Defense_ Du\nBellay remarks that \"the virtues and vices of a poem have been\ndiligently treated by the ancients, such as Aristotle and Horace, and\nafter them by Hieronymus Vida.\"[327] Horace is mentioned and cited in\nnumerous other places, and the influence of the general rhetorical\nportions of the _Ars Poetica_ is very marked throughout the _Defense_;\nthere are also many traces of the influence of Vida. But there is no\nevidence whatsoever of any knowledge of Aristotle's _Poetics_. Of its\nname and importance Du Bellay had probably read in the writings of the\nItalians, but of its contents he knew little or nothing. There is indeed\nno well-established allusion to the _Poetics_ in France before this\ntime. None of the French humanists seems to have known it. Its title is\ncited by Erasmus in a letter dated February 27, 1531, and it was\npublished by him without any commentary at Basle in the same year,\nthough Simon Grynaeus appears to have been the real editor of this work.\nAn edition of the _Poetics_ was also published at Paris in 1541, but\ndoes not seem to have had any appreciable influence on the critical\nactivity of France. Several years after the publication of the\n_Defense_, in the satirical poem, _Le Poete Courtisan_, written shortly\nafter his return from Italy in 1555, Du Bellay shows a somewhat more\ndefinite knowledge of the contents of the _Poetics_:--\n\n    \"Je ne veux point ici du maistre d'Alexandre [_i.e._ Aristotle],\n    Touchant l'art poetic, les preceptes t'apprendre\n    Tu n'apprendras de moy comment jouer il faut\n    Les miseres des rois dessus un eschaffaut:\n    Je ne t'enseigne l'art de l'humble comoedie\n    Ni du Meonien la muse plus hardie:\n    Bref je ne monstre ici d'un vers horacien\n    Les vices et vertus du poeme ancien:\n    Je ne depeins aussi le poete du Vide.\"[328]\n\nIn 1555 Guillaume Morel, the disciple of Turnebus, published an edition\nof Aristotle's _Poetics_ at Paris. It is interesting to note, however,\nthat the reference in the _Defense_ is the first allusion to the\n_Poetics_ to be found in the critical literature of France; by 1549 the\nItalian Renaissance, and Italian criticism, had come into France for\ngood. In 1560, the year before the publication of Scaliger's _Poetics_,\nAristotle's treatise had acquired such prominence that in a volume of\nselections from Aristotle's works, published at Paris in that year,\n_Aristotelis Sententiae_, the selections from the _Poetics_ are placed at\nthe head of the volume.[329] In 1572 Jean de la Taille refers his\nreaders to what \"the great Aristotle in his _Poetics_, and after him\nHorace though not with the same subtlety, have said more amply and\nbetter than I.\"[330]\n\nThe influence of Scaliger's _Poetics_ on the French dramatic criticism\nof this period has generally been overestimated. Scaliger's influence in\nFrance was not inconsiderable during the sixteenth century, but it was\nnot until the very end of the century that he held the dictatorial\nposition afterward accorded to him. No edition of his _Poetics_ was ever\npublished at Paris. The first edition appeared at Lyons, and subsequent\neditions appeared at Heidelberg and Leyden. It was in Germany, in Spain,\nand in England that his influence was first felt; and it was largely\nthrough the Dutch scholars, Heinsius and Vossius, that his influence was\ncarried into France in the next century. It is a mistake to say that he\nhad any primary influence on the formulation and acceptance of the\nunities of time and place in French literature; there is in his\n_Poetics_, as has been seen, no such definite and formal statement of\nthe unities as may be found in Castelvetro, in Jean de la Taille, in Sir\nPhilip Sidney, or in Chapelain. At the same time, while Scaliger's\n_Poetics_ did not assume during the sixteenth century the dictatorial\nsupremacy it attained during the seventeenth, and while the particular\nviews enunciated in its pages had no direct influence on the current of\nsixteenth-century ideas, it certainly had an indirect influence on the\ngeneral tendency of the critical activity of the French Renaissance.\nThis indirect influence manifests itself in the gradual Latinization of\nculture during the second half of the sixteenth century, and, as will be\nseen later, in the emphasis on the Aristotelian canons in French\ndramatic criticism. Scaliger was a personal friend of several members of\nthe Pleiade, and there is every reason to believe that he wielded\nconsiderable, even if merely indirect, influence on the development of\nthat great literary movement.\n\nThe last expression of the poetic theories of the Pleiade is to be found\nin the didactic poem of Vauquelin de la Fresnaye, _L'Art Poetique\nfrancois, ou l'on peut remarquer la perfection et le defaut des\nanciennes et des modernes poesies_. This poem, though not published\nuntil 1605, was begun in 1574 at the command of Henry III., and,\naugmented by successive additions, was not yet complete by 1590.\nVauquelin makes the following explicit acknowledgment of his\nindebtedness to the critical writers that preceded him:--\n\n    \"Pour ce ensuivant les pas du fils de Nicomache [_i.e._ Aristotle],\n    Du harpeur de Calabre [_i.e._ Horace], et tout ce que remache\n    Vide et Minturne apres, j'ay cet oeuvre apreste.\"[331]\n\nAristotle, Horace, Vida, and Minturno are thus his acknowledged models\nand sources. Nearly the whole of Horace's _Ars Poetica_ he has\ntranslated and embodied in his poem; and he has borrowed from Vida a\nconsiderable number of images and metaphors.[332] His indebtedness to\nAristotle and to Minturno brings up several intricate questions. It has\nbeen said that Vauquelin simply mentioned Minturno in order to put\nhimself under the protection of a respectable Italian authority.[333] On\nthe contrary, exclusive of Horace, Ronsard, and Du Bellay, the whole of\nwhose critical discussions he has almost incorporated into his poem,\nMinturno is his chief authority, his model, and his guide. In fact, it\nwas probably from Minturno that he derived his entire knowledge of the\nAristotelian canons; it is not Aristotle, but Minturno's conception of\nAristotle, that Vauquelin has adhered to. Many points in his poem are\nexplained by this fact; here only one can be mentioned. Vauquelin's\naccount, in the second canto of his _Art Poetique_, of the origin of\nthe drama from the songs at the altar of Bacchus at the time of the\nvintage, is undoubtedly derived from Minturno.[334] It may have been\nobserved that during the Renaissance there were two distinct conceptions\nof the origin of poetry. One, which might be called ethical, was derived\nfrom Horace, according to whom the poet was originally a lawgiver, or\ndivine prophet; and this conception persists in modern literature from\nPoliziano to Shelley. The other, or scientific conception, was\nespecially applied to the drama, and was based on Aristotle's remarks on\nthe origin of tragedy; this attempt to discover some scientific\nexplanation for poetic phenomena may be found in the more rationalistic\nof Renaissance critics, such as Scaliger and Viperano. Vauquelin de la\nFresnaye, the disciple of Ronsard and the last exponent of the critical\ndoctrines of the Pleiade, thus represents the incorporation of the body\nof Italian ideas into French criticism.\n\nWith Vauquelin de la Fresnaye and De Laudun Daigaliers (1598) the\nhistory of French criticism during the sixteenth century is at an end.\nThe critical activity of this period, as has already been remarked, is\nof a far more practical character than that of Italy. Literary criticism\nin France was created by the exigencies of a great literary movement;\nand throughout the century it never lost its connection with this\nmovement, or failed to serve it in some practical way. The poetic\ncriticism was carried on by poets, whose desire it was to further a\ncause, to defend their own works, or to justify their own views. The\ndramatic criticism was for the most part carried on by dramatists,\nsometimes even in the prefaces of their plays. In the sixteenth century,\nas ever since, the interrelation of the creative and the critical\nfaculties in France was marked and definite. But there was, one might\nalmost say, little critical theorizing in the French Renaissance.\nExcepting, of course, Scaliger, there was even nothing of the\ndeification of Aristotle found in Italian criticism. To take notice of a\nminute but significant detail, there was no attempt to explain\nAristotle's doctrine of _katharsis_, the source of infinite controversy\nin Italy. There was no detailed and consistent discussion of the theory\nof the epic poem. All these things may be found in seventeenth-century\nFrance; but their home was sixteenth-century Italy.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[310] _Essais_, i. 36.\n\n[311] On these early works, see Langlois, _De Artibus Rhetoricae\nRhythmicae_, Parisiis, 1890.\n\n[312] Tiraboschi, vii. 350.\n\n[313] _Ibid._ vii. 1465.\n\n[314] Morsolin, _Trissino_, p. 358.\n\n[315] Egger, _Hellenisme_, ch. vii.\n\n[316] Brunetiere, i. 43.\n\n[317] _Cf._ Horace, _Ars Poet._ 53 _sq._\n\n[318] _Defense_, i. 7.\n\n[319] _Ibid._ ii. 2.\n\n[320] _Ibid._ ii. 4.\n\n[321] _Cf._ Vida, in Pope, i. 167.\n\n[322] Lanson, _op. cit._, p. 274.\n\n[323] _Cf._ T. Tasso, xxiii. 97.\n\n[324] H. Chamard, \"Le Date et l'Auteur du Quintil Horatian,\" in the\n_Revue d'Histoire litteraire de la France_, 1898, v. 59 _sq._\n\n[325] _Ibid._ v. 54 _sq._\n\n[326] _Ibid._ v. 62; 63, n. 1.\n\n[327] _Defense_, ii. 9.\n\n[328] Du Bellay, p. 120.\n\n[329] Parisiis, apud Hieronymum de Marnaf, 1560.\n\n[330] Robert, appendix iii.\n\n[331] _Art Poet._ i. 63.\n\n[332] Pellissier, pp. 57-63.\n\n[333] Lemercier, _Etude sur Vauquelin_, 1887, p. 117, and Pellissier, p.\n57.\n\n[334] Minturno, _Arte Poetica_, p. 73; _De Poeta_, p. 252. _Cf._\nVauquelin, Pellissier's introduction, p. xliv.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE THEORY OF POETRY IN THE FRENCH RENAISSANCE\n\n\nIT is in keeping with the practical character of the literary criticism\nof this period that the members of the Pleiade did not concern\nthemselves with the general theory of poetry. Until the very end of the\ncentury there is not to be found any systematic poetic theory in France.\nIt is in dramatic criticism that this period has most to offer, and the\ndramatic criticism is peculiarly interesting because it foreshadows in\nmany ways the doctrines upon which were based the dramas of Racine and\nCorneille.\n\n\nI. _The Poetic Art_\n\nIn Du Bellay's _Defense_ there is no attempt to formulate a consistent\nbody of critical doctrine; but the book exhibits, in a more or less\ncrude form, all the tendencies for which the Pleiade stands in French\nliterature. The fundamental idea of the _Defense_ is that French poetry\ncan only hope to reach perfection by imitating the classics. The\nimitation of the classics implies, in the first place, erudition on the\npart of the poet; and, moreover, it requires intellectual labor and\nstudy. The poet is born, it is true; but this only refers to the ardor\nand joyfulness of spirit which naturally excite him, but which, without\nlearning and erudition, are absolutely useless. \"He who wishes poetic\nimmortality,\" says Du Bellay, \"must spend his time in the solitude of\nhis own chamber; instead of eating, drinking, and sleeping, he must\nendure hunger, thirst, and long vigils.\"[335] Elsewhere he speaks of\nsilence and solitude as _amy des Muses_. From all this there arises a\nnatural contempt for the ignorant people, who know nothing of ancient\nlearning: \"Especially do I wish to admonish him who aspires to a more\nthan vulgar glory, to separate himself from such inept admirers, to flee\nfrom the ignorant people,--the people who are the enemies of all rare\nand antique learning,--and to content himself with few readers,\nfollowing the example of him who did not demand for an audience any one\nbeside Plato himself.\"[336]\n\nIn the _Art Poetique_ of Jacques Pelletier du Mans, published at Lyons\nin 1555, the point of view is that of the Pleiade, but more mellow and\nmoderate than that of its most advanced and radical members. The\ntreatise begins with an account of the antiquity and excellence of\npoetry; and poets are spoken of as originally the _maitres et\nreformateurs de la vie_. Poetry is then compared with oratory and with\npainting, after the usual Renaissance fashion; and Pelletier agrees with\nHorace in regarding the combined power of art and nature as necessary\nto the fashioning of a poet. His conception of the latter's office is\nnot unlike that of Tasso and Shelley, \"It is the office of the poet to\ngive novelty to old things, authority to the new, beauty to the rude,\nlight to the obscure, faith to the doubtful, and to all things their\ntrue nature, and to their true nature all things.\" Concerning the\nquestions of language, versification, and the feeling for natural\nscenery, he agrees fundamentally with the chief writers of the Pleiade.\n\nThe greatest of these, Ronsard, has given expression to his views on the\npoetic art in his _Abrege de l'Art Poetique francois_ (1565), and later\nin the two prefaces of his epic of the _Franciade_. The chief interest\nof the _Abrege_ in the present discussion is that it expounds and\nemphasizes the high notion of the poet's office introduced into French\npoetry by the Pleiade. Before the advent of the new school, mere skill\nin the complicated forms of verse was regarded as the test of poetry.\nThe poet was simply a _rimeur_; and the term \"_poete_,\" with all that it\nimplies, first came into use with the Pleiade. The distinction between\nthe versifier and the poet, as pointed out by Aristotle and insisted\nupon by the Italians, became with the Pleiade almost vital. Binet, the\ndisciple and biographer of Ronsard, says of his master that \"he was the\nmortal enemy of versifiers, whose conceptions are all debased, and who\nthink they have wrought a masterpiece when they have transposed\nsomething from prose into verse.\"[337] Ronsard's own account of the\ndignity and high function of poetry must needs be cited at length:--\n\n     \"Above all things you will hold the Muses in reverence, yea, in\n     singular veneration, and you will never let them serve in\n     matters that are dishonest, or mere jests, or injudicious\n     libels; but you will hold them dear and sacred, as the\n     daughters of Jupiter, that is, God, who by His holy grace has\n     through them first made known to ignorant people the\n     excellencies of His majesty. For poetry in early times was only\n     an allegorical theology, in order to make stupid men, by\n     pleasant and wondrously colored fables, know the secrets they\n     could not comprehend, were the truth too openly made known to\n     them.... Now, since the Muses do not care to lodge in a soul\n     unless it is good, holy, and virtuous, you should try to be of\n     a good disposition, not wicked, scowling, and cross, but\n     animated by a gentle spirit; and you should not let anything\n     enter your mind that is not superhuman and divine. You should\n     have, in the first place, conceptions that are high, grand,\n     beautiful, and not trailing upon the ground; for the principal\n     part of poetry consists of invention, which comes as much from\n     a beautiful nature as from the reading of good and ancient\n     authors. If you undertake any great work, you will show\n     yourself devout and fearing God, commencing it either with His\n     name or by any other which represents some effects of His\n     majesty, after the manner of the Greek poets ... for the Muses,\n     Apollo, Mercury, Pallas, and other similar deities, merely\n     represent the powers of God, to which the first men gave\n     several names for the diverse effects of His incomprehensible\n     majesty.\"[338]\n\nIn this eloquent passage the conception of the poet as an essentially\nmoral being,--a doctrine first enunciated by Strabo, and repeated by\nMinturno and others,--and Boccaccio's notion of poetry as originally an\nallegorical theology, are both introduced into French criticism.\nElsewhere Ronsard repeats the mediaeval concept that poets\n\n                        \"d'un voile divers\n    Par fables ont cache le vray sens de leurs vers.\"[339]\n\nIt will be seen also that for Ronsard, poetry is essentially a matter of\ninspiration; and in the poem just quoted, the _Discours a Jacques\nGrevin_, he follows the Platonic conception of divine inspiration or\nmadness. A few years later Montaigne said of poetry that \"it is an\neasier matter to frame it than to know it; being base and humble, it may\nbe judged by the precepts and art of it, but the good and lofty, the\nsupreme and divine, are beyond rules and above reason. It hath no\ncommunity with our judgment, but ransacketh and ravisheth the\nsame.\"[340]\n\nIn his various critical works Ronsard shows considerable indebtedness to\nthe Italian theorists, especially to Minturno. He does not attempt any\nformal definition of poetry, but its function is described as follows:\n\"As the end of the orator is to persuade, so that of the poet is to\nimitate, invent, and represent the things that are, that can be, or that\nthe ancients regarded as true.\"[341] The concluding clause of this\npassage is intended to justify the modern use of the ancient mythology;\nbut the whole passage seems primarily to follow Scaliger[342] and\nMinturno.[343] It is to be observed that verse is not mentioned in this\ndefinition as an essential requirement of poetry. It was indeed a\nfavorite contention of his, and one for which he was indebted to the\nItalians, that all who write in verse are not poets. Lucan and Silius\nItalicus have robed history with the raiment of verse; but according to\nRonsard they would have done better in many ways to have written in\nprose. The poet, unlike the historian, deals with the verisimilar and\nthe probable; and while he cannot be responsible for falsehoods which\nare in opposition to the truth of things, any more than the historian\ncan, he is not interested to know whether or not the details of his\npoems are actual historical facts. Verisimilitude, and not fact, is\ntherefore the test of poetry.\n\nIn Vauquelin de la Fresnaye may be found most of the Aristotelian\ndistinctions in regard to imitation, harmony, rhythm, and poetic theory\nin general; but these distinctions he derived, as has already been said,\nnot directly from Aristotle, but in all probability from Minturno.\nPoetry is defined as an art of imitation:--\n\n    \"C'est un art d'imiter, un art de contrefaire\n    Que toute poesie, ainsi que de pourtraire.\"[344]\n\nVerse is described as a heaven-sent instrument, the language of the\ngods; and its value in poetry consists in clarifying and making the\ndesign compact.[345] But it is not an essential of poetry; Aristotle\npermits us to poetize in prose; and the romances of Heliodorus and\nMontemayor are examples of this poetic prose.[346] The object of poetry\nis that it shall cause delight, and unless it succeeds in this it is\nentirely futile:--\n\n    \"C'est le but, c'est la fin des vers que resjouir:\n    Les Muses autrement ne les veulent ouir.\"\n\nAs it is the function of the orator to persuade and the physician to\ncure, and as they fail in their offices unless they effect these ends,\nso the poet fails unless he succeeds in pleasing.[347] This comparison\nis a favorite one with the Italian critics. A similar passage has\nalready been cited from Daniello; and the same notion is thus expressed\nby Lodovico Dolce: \"The aim of the physician is to cure diseases by\nmeans of medicine; the orator's to persuade by force of his arguments;\nand if neither attains this end, he is not called physician or orator.\nSo if the poet does not delight, he is not a poet, for poetry delights\nall, even the ignorant.\"[348]\n\nBut delight, according to Vauquelin, is merely the means of directing us\nto higher things; poetry is a delightful means of leading us to\nvirtue:--\n\n    \"C'est pourquoy des beaus vers la joyeuse alegresse\n    Nous conduit aux vertus d'une plaisante addresse.\"[349]\n\nVauquelin, like Scaliger, Tasso, Sidney, compares the poet with God, the\ngreat Workman, who made everything out of nothing.[350] The poet is a\ndivinely inspired person, who, _sans art, sans scavoir_, creates works\nof divine beauty. Vauquelin's contemporary, Du Bartas, has in his\n_Uranie_ expressed this idea in the following manner:--\n\n    \"Each art is learned by art; but Poesie\n    Is a mere heavenly gift, and none can taste\n    The dews we drop from Pindus plenteously,\n    If sacred fire have not his heart embraced.\n\n    \"Hence is't that many great Philosophers,\n    Deep-learned clerks, in prose most eloquent,\n    Labor in vain to make a graceful verse,\n    Which many a novice frames most excellent.\"[351]\n\nWhile this is the accepted Renaissance doctrine of inspiration,\nVauquelin, in common with all other followers of the Pleiade, was fully\nalive to the necessity of artifice and study in poetry; and he agrees\nwith Horace in regarding both art and nature as equally necessary to the\nmaking of a good poet. It is usage that makes art, but art perfects and\nregulates usage:--\n\n    \"Et ce bel Art nous sert d'escalier pour monter\n    A Dieu.\"[352]\n\n\nII. _The Drama_\n\nDramatic criticism in France begins as a reaction against the drama of\nthe Middle Ages. The mediaeval drama was formless and inorganic, without\nart or dignity. The classical drama, on the other hand, possessed both\nform and dignity; and the new school, perceiving this contrast, looked\nto the Aristotelian canons, as restated by the Italians, to furnish the\ndignity and art which the tragedy of Greece and Rome possessed, and\nwhich their own moralities and farces fundamentally lacked. In the first\nreference to dramatic literature in French criticism, the mediaeval and\nclassical dramas are compared after this fashion; but as Sibilet (1548),\nin whose work this passage appears, wrote a year or so before the advent\nof the Pleiade, the comparison is not so unfavorable to the morality and\nthe farce as it became in later critics. \"The French morality,\" says\nSibilet, \"represents, in certain distinct traits, Greek and Latin\ntragedy, especially in that it treats of grave and momentous deeds\n(_faits graves et principaus_); and if the French had always made the\nending of the morality sad and dolorous, the morality would be a\ntragedy. But in this, as in all things, we have followed our natural\ntaste or inclination, which is to take from foreign things not all we\nsee, but only what we think will be useful to us and of national\nadvantage; for in the morality we treat, as the Greeks and Romans do in\ntheir tragedies, the narration of deeds that are illustrious,\nmagnanimous, and virtuous, or true, or at least verisimilar; but we do\notherwise in what is useful to the information of our manners and life,\nwithout subjecting ourselves to any sorrow or pleasure of the\nissue.\"[353] It would seem that Sibilet regards the morality as lacking\nnothing but the unhappy ending of classical tragedy. At the same time\nthis passage exhibits perhaps the first trace of Aristotelianism in\nFrench critical literature; for Sibilet specifies several characteristic\nfeatures of Greek and Latin tragedy, which he could have found only in\nAristotle or in the Italians. In the first place, tragedy deals only\nwith actions that are grave, illustrious, and for the most part\nmagnanimous or virtuous. In the second place, the actions of tragedy are\neither really true, that is, historical, or if not true, have all the\nappearance of truth, that is, they are verisimilar. Thirdly, the end of\ntragedy is always sad and dolorous. Fourthly, tragedy performs a useful\nfunction, which is connected in some way with the reformation of manners\nand life; and, lastly, the effect of tragedy is connected with the\nsorrow or pleasure brought about by the catastrophe. These distinctions\nanticipate many of those found later in Scaliger and in the French\ncritics.\n\nIn Du Bellay (1549) we find no traces of dramatic theory beyond the\ninjunction, already noted, that the French should substitute classical\ntragedy and comedy for the old morality and farce. A few years later,\nhowever, in Pelletier (1555), there appears an almost complete system of\ndramatic criticism. He urges the French to attempt the composition of\ntragedy and comedy. \"This species of poetry,\" he says, \"will bring honor\nto the French language, if it is attempted,\"--a remark which illustrates\nthe innate predisposition of the French for dramatic poetry.[354] He\nthen proceeds to distinguish tragedy from comedy much in the same manner\nas Scaliger does six years later. It is to be remembered that\nPelletier's _Art Poetique_ was published at Lyons in 1555, while\nScaliger's _Poetics_ was published at the same place in 1561. Pelletier\nmay have known Scaliger personally; but it is more probable that\nPelletier derived his information from the same classical and\ntraditional sources as did Scaliger. At all events, Pelletier\ndistinguishes tragedy from comedy in regard to style, subject,\ncharacters, and ending in exact Scaligerian fashion. Comedy has nothing\nin common with tragedy except the fact that neither can have more or\nless than five acts. The style and diction of comedy are popular and\ncolloquial, while those of tragedy are most dignified and sublime. The\ncomic characters are men of low condition, while those of tragedy are\nkings, princes, and great lords. The conclusion of comedy is always\njoyous, that of tragedy is always sorrowful and heart-rending. The\nthemes of tragedy are deaths, exiles, and unhappy changes of fortune;\nthose of comedy are the loves and passions of young men and young women,\nthe indulgence of mothers, the wiles of slaves, and the diligence of\nnurses.[355]\n\nBy this time, then, Aristotle's theory of tragedy, as restated by the\nItalians, had become part of French criticism. The actual practice of\nthe French drama had been modified by the introduction of these rules;\nand they had played so important a part that Grevin, in his _Bref\nDiscours pour l'Intelligence de ce Theatre_, prefixed to his _Mort de\nCesar_ (1562), could say that French tragedy had already attained\nperfection, even when regarded from the standpoint of the Aristotelian\ncanons. \"Our tragedies,\" says Grevin, \"have been so well polished that\nthere is nothing left now to be desired,--I speak of those which are\ncomposed according to the rules of Aristotle and Horace.\" Grevin's\n_Discours_ was published the year after Scaliger's _Poetics_, but shows\nno indication of Scaligerian influence. His definition of tragedy is\nbased on a most vague and incomplete recollection of Aristotle,\n\"Tragedy, as Aristotle says in his _Poetics_, is an imitation or\nrepresentation of some action that is illustrious and great in itself,\nsuch as the death of Caesar.\" He shows his independence or his ignorance\nof Scaliger by insisting on the inferiority of Seneca, whom Scaliger had\nrated above all the Greeks; and he shows his independence of the\nancients by substituting a crowd of Caesar's soldiers for the singers of\nthe older chorus, on the ground that there ought not to be singing in\nthe representation of tragedy any more than there is in actual life\nitself, for tragedy is a representation of truth or of what has the\nappearance of truth. There are in Grevin's _Discours_ several\nindications that the national feeling had not been entirely destroyed by\nthe imitation of the classics; but a discussion of this must be left for\na later chapter.\n\nIn Jean de la Taille's _Art de Tragedie_, prefixed to his _Sauel le\nFurieux_ (1572), a drama in which a biblical theme is fashioned after\nthe manner of classical tragedy, there is to be found the most explicit\nand distinct antagonism to the old, irregular moralities, which are not\nmodelled according to the true art and the pattern of the ancients. They\nare but _ameres epiceries_--words that recall Du Bellay. But curiously\nenough, Jean de la Taille differs entirely from Grevin, and asserts\npositively that France had as yet no real tragedies, except possibly a\nfew translated from the classics. Waging war, as he is, against the\ncrude formlessness of the national drama, perfect construction assumes\nfor him a very high importance. \"The principal point in tragedy,\" he\nsays, \"is to know how to dispose and fashion it well, so that the plot\nis well intertwined, mingled, interrupted, and resumed, ... and that\nthere is nothing useless, without purpose, or out of place.\" For Jean de\nla Taille, as for most Renaissance writers, tragedy is the least popular\nand the most elegant and elevated form of poetry, exclusive of the epic.\nIt deals with the pitiful ruin of great lords, with the inconstancy of\nfortune, with banishment, war, pestilence, famine, captivity, and the\nexecrable cruelty of tyrants.[356] The end of tragedy is in fact to move\nand to sting the feelings and the emotions of men. The characters of\ntragedy--and this is the Aristotelian conception--should be neither\nextremely bad, such men as by their crimes merit punishment, nor\nperfectly good and holy, like Socrates, who was wrongfully put to death.\nInvented or allegorical characters, such as Death, Avarice, or Truth,\nare not to be employed. At the same time, Jean de la Taille, like\nGrevin, is not averse to the use of scriptural subjects in tragedy,\nalthough he cautions the poet against long-winded theological\ndiscussions. The Senecan drama was his model in treating of tragedy, as\nit was indeed that of the Renaissance in general; and tragedy approached\nmore and more closely to the oratorical and sententious manner of the\nLatin poet. Ronsard, for example, asserts that tragedy and comedy are\nentirely _didascaliques et enseignantes_, and should be enriched by\nnumerous excellent and rare _sentences_ (_sententiae_), \"for in a few\nwords the drama must teach much, being the mirror of human life.\"[357]\nSimilarly, Du Bellay advises poets to embellish their poetry with grave\n_sentences_, and Pelletier praises Seneca principally because he is\n_sentencieux_.\n\nVauquelin, in his _Art Poetique_, gives a metrical paraphrase of\nAristotle's definition of tragedy:--\n\n    \"Mais le sujet tragic est un fait imite\n    De chose juste et grave, en ses vers limite;\n    Auquel on y doit voir de l'affreux, du terrible,\n    Un fait non attendu, qui tienne de l'horrible,\n    Du pitoyable aussi, le coeur attendrissant\n    D'un tigre furieux, d'un lion rugissant.\"[358]\n\nThe subject of tragedy should be old, and should be connected with the\nfall of great tyrants and princes;[359] and in regard to the number of\nacts, the number of interlocutors on the stage, the _deus ex machina_,\nand the chorus,[360] Vauquelin merely paraphrases Horace. Comedy is\ndefined as the imitation of an action which by common usage is accounted\nwicked, but which is not so wicked that there is no remedy for it; thus,\nfor example, a man who has seduced a young girl may recompense her by\ntaking her in marriage.[361] Hence while the actions of tragedy are\n\"virtuous, magnificent, and grand, royal, and sumptuous,\" the incidents\nof comedy are actually and ethically of a lower grade.[362] For\ntragi-comedy Vauquelin has nothing but contempt. It is, in fact, a\nbastard form, since the tragedy with a happy ending serves a similar but\nmore dignified purpose. Vauquelin, like Boileau and most other French\ncritics after him, follows Aristotle at length in the description of\ndramatic recognitions and reversals of fortune.[363] Most of the other\nAristotelian distinctions are also to be found in his work.\n\nIn the _Art Poetique francois_ of Pierre de Laudun, Sieur d'Aigaliers,\npublished in 1598, these distinctions reappear in a more or less\nmutilated form. In the fifth and last book of this treatise, De Laudun\nfollows the Italian scholars, especially Scaliger and Viperano. He does\nnot differ essentially from Scaliger in the definition of tragedy, in\nthe division into acts and the place of the chorus, in the discussion of\nthe characters and subjects of tragedy, and in the distinction between\ntragedy and comedy.[364] His conception of tragedy is in keeping with\nthe usual Senecan ideal; it should be adorned by frequent _sentences_,\nallegories, similitudes, and other ornaments of poetry. The more cruel\nand sanguinary the tragic action is, the more excellent it will be; but\nat the same time, much that makes the action cruel is to be enacted only\nbehind the stage. Like Pelletier, he objects to the introduction of all\nallegorical and invented characters, or even gods and goddesses, on the\nground that these are not actual beings, and hence are out of keeping\nwith the theme of tragedy, which must be real and historical. De Laudun\nhas also something to say concerning the introduction of ghosts in the\ntragic action; and his discussion is peculiarly interesting when we\nremember that it was almost at this very time, in England, that the\nghost played so important a part in the Shakespearian drama. \"If the\nghosts appear before the action begins,\" says De Laudun, \"they are\npermissible; but if they appear during the course of the action, and\nspeak to the actors themselves, they are entirely faulty and\nreprehensible.\" De Laudun borrowed from Scaliger the scheme of the ideal\ntragedy: \"The first act contains the complaints; the second, the\nsuspicions; the third, the counsels; the fourth, the menaces and\npreparations; the fifth, the fulfilment and effusion of blood.\"[365] But\ndespite his subservience to Scaliger, he is not afraid to express his\nindependence of the ancients. We are not, he says, entirely bound to\ntheir laws, especially in the number of actors on the stage, which\naccording to classic usage never exceeded three; for nowadays,\nnotwithstanding the counsels of Aristotle and Horace, an audience has\nnot the patience to be satisfied with only two or three persons at one\ntime.\n\nThe history of the dramatic unities in France during the sixteenth\ncentury demands some attention. That they had considerable effect on the\nactual practice of dramatic composition from the very advent of the\nPleiade is quite obvious; for in the first scene of the first French\ntragedy, the _Cleopatre_ of Jodelle (1552), there is an allusion to the\nunity of time, which Corneille was afterward to call the _regle des\nregles_:--\n\n    \"Avant que ce soleil, qui vient ores de naitre,\n    Ayant trace son jour chez sa tante se plonge,\n    Cleopatre mourra!\"\n\nIn 1553 Mellin de Saint-Gelais translated Trissino's _Sofonisba_ into\nFrench, and the influence of the Italian drama became fixed in France.\nBut the first distinct formulation of the unities is to be found in Jean\nde la Taille's _Art de Tragedie_ (1572). His statement of the unity is\nexplicit, \"Il faut toujours representer l'histoire ou le jeu en un meme\njour, en un meme temps, et en un meme lieu.\"[366] Jean de la Taille was\nindebted for this to Castelvetro, who two years before had stated them\nthus, \"La mutatione tragica non puo tirar con esso seco se non una\ngiornata e un luogo.\"[367] The unity of time was adopted by Ronsard\nabout this same time in the following words:--\n\n     \"Tragedy and comedy are circumscribed and limited to a short\n     space of time, that is, to one whole day. The most excellent\n     masters of this craft commence their works from one midnight to\n     another, and not from sunrise to sunset, in order to have\n     greater compass and length of time. On the other hand, the\n     heroic poem, which is entirely of a martial character (_tout\n     guerrier_), comprehends only the actions of one whole\n     year.\"[368]\n\nThis passage is without doubt borrowed from Minturno (1564):--\n\n     \"Whoever regards well the works of the most admired ancient\n     authors will find that the materials of scenic poetry terminate\n     in one day, or do not pass beyond the space of two days; just\n     as the action of the epic poem, however great and however long\n     it may be, does not occupy more than one year.\"[369]\n\nMinturno, it will be remembered, was the first to limit the action of\nthe heroic poem to one year. In another passage he deduces the rule from\nthe practice of Virgil and Homer;[370] but Ronsard seems to think that\nVirgil himself has not obeyed this law. We have already alluded to the\ninfluence of Minturno on the Pleiade. Vauquelin de la Fresnaye, who\nexplicitly acknowledges his indebtedness to Minturno, also follows him\nin limiting the action of the drama to one day and that of the epic to\none year:--\n\n    \"Or comme eux l'heroic suivant le droit sentier,\n    Doit son oeuvre comprendre au cours d'un an entier;\n    Le tragic, le comic, dedans une journee\n    Comprend ce que fait l'autre au cours de son annee:\n    Le theatre jamais ne doit estre rempli\n    D'un argument plus long que d'un jour accompli.\"[371]\n\nThe two last lines of this passage bear considerable resemblance to\nBoileau's famous statement of the unities three-quarters of a century\nlater.[372]\n\nToward the end of the sixteenth century, then, the unity of time, and in\na less degree the unity of place, had become almost inviolable laws of\nthe drama. But at this very period strong notes of revolt against the\ntyranny of the unities begin to be heard. Up to this time the classical\nItalian drama had been the pattern for French playwrights; but the\nirregular Spanish drama was now commencing to exert considerable\ninfluence in France, and with this Spanish influence came the Spanish\nopposition to the unities. In 1582 Jean de Beaubreuil, in the preface of\nhis tragedy of _Regulus_, had spoken with contempt of the rule of\ntwenty-four hours as _trop superstitieux_. But De Laudun was probably\nthe first European critic to argue formally against it. The concluding\nchapter of his _Art Poetique_ (1598) gives five different reasons why\nthe unity of time should not be observed in the drama. The chapter is\nentitled, \"Concerning those who say that the action of tragedy must\nconclude in a single day;\" and De Laudun begins by asserting that this\nopinion had never been sustained by any good author. This is fairly\nconclusive evidence that De Laudun had never directly consulted\nAristotle's _Poetics_, but was indebted for his knowledge of Aristotle\nto the Italians, and especially to Scaliger. The five arguments which he\nformulates against the unity of time are as follows:--\n\n     \"In the first place, this law, if it is observed by any of the\n     ancients, need not force us to restrict our tragedies in any\n     way, since we are not bound by their manner of writing or by\n     the measure of feet and syllables with which they compose their\n     verses. In the second place, if we were forced to observe this\n     rigorous law, we should fall into one of the greatest of\n     absurdities, by being obliged to introduce impossible and\n     incredible things in order to enhance the beauty of our\n     tragedies, or else they would lack all grace; for besides being\n     deprived of matter, we could not embellish our poems with long\n     discourses and various interesting events. In the third place,\n     the action of the _Troades_, an excellent tragedy by Seneca,\n     could not have occurred in one day, nor could even some of the\n     plays of Euripides or Sophocles. In the fourth place, according\n     to the definition already given [on the authority of\n     Aristotle], tragedy is the recital of the lives of heroes, the\n     fortune and grandeur of kings, princes, and others; and all\n     this could not be accomplished in one day. Besides, a tragedy\n     must contain five acts, of which the first is joyous, and the\n     succeeding ones exhibit a gradual change, as I have already\n     indicated above; and this change a single day would not suffice\n     to bring about. In the fifth and last place, the tragedies in\n     which this rule is observed are not any better than the\n     tragedies in which it is not observed; and the tragic poets,\n     Greek and Latin, or even French, do not and need not and cannot\n     observe it, since very often in a tragedy the whole life of a\n     prince, king, emperor, noble, or other person is\n     represented;--besides a thousand other reasons which I could\n     advance if time permitted, but which must be left for a second\n     edition.\"[373]\n\nThe history of the unity of time during the next century does not\nstrictly concern us here; but it may be well to point out that it was\nthrough the offices of Chapelain, seconded by the authority of Cardinal\nRichelieu, that it became fixed in the dramatic theory of France. In a\nlong letter, dating from November, 1630, and recently published for the\nfirst time, Chapelain sets out to answer all the objections made against\nthe rule of twenty-four hours. It is sustained, he says, by the practice\nof the ancients and the universal consensus of the Italians; but his own\nproof is based on reason alone. It is the old argument of\n_vraisemblance_, as found in Maggi, Scaliger, and especially\nCastelvetro, whom Chapelain seems in part to follow. By 1635 he had\nformulated the whole theory of the three unities and converted Cardinal\nRichelieu to his views. In the previous year Mairet's _Sophonisbe_, the\nfirst \"regular\" French tragedy, had been produced. In 1636 the famous\n_Cid_ controversy had begun. By 1640 the battle was gained, and the\nunities became a part of the classic theory of the drama throughout\nEurope. A few years later their practical application was most\nthoroughly indicated by the Abbe d'Aubignac, in his _Pratique du\nTheatre_; and they were definitely formulated for all time by Boileau in\nthe celebrated couplet:--\n\n    \"Qu'en un lieu, qu'en un jour, un seul fait accompli\n    Tienne jusqu'a la fin le theatre rempli.\"[374]\n\n\nIII. _Heroic Poetry_\n\nIt was the supreme ambition of the Pleiade to produce a great French\nepic. In the very first manifesto of the new school, Du Bellay urges\nevery French poet to attempt another _Iliad_ or _AEneid_ for the honor\nand glory of France. For Pelletier (1555) the heroic poem is the one\nthat really gives the true title of poet; it may be compared to the\nocean, and all other forms to rivers.[375] He seems to be following\nGiraldi Cintio's discourse on the _romanzi_, published the year before\nhis own work, when he says that the French poet should write a\n_Heracleid_, the deeds of Hercules furnishing the mightiest and most\nheroic material he can think of.[376] At the same time Virgil is for him\nthe model of an epic poet; and his parallel between Homer and Virgil\nbears striking resemblance to the similar parallel in Capriano's _Della\nVera Poetica_, published in the very same year as his own treatise.[377]\nLike Capriano, Pelletier censures the superfluous exuberance, the\nloquaciousness, the occasional indecorum, and the inferiority in\neloquence and dignity of Homer when compared with the Latin poet.\n\nIt was Ronsard's personal ambition to be the French Virgil, as in lyric\npoetry he had been proclaimed the French Pindar. For twenty years he\nlabored on the _Franciade_, but never finished it. In the two prefaces\nwhich he wrote for it, the first in 1572, and the second (published\nposthumously) about 1584, he attempts to give expression to his ideal of\nthe heroic poet. In neither of them does he succeed in formulating any\nvery definite or consistent body of epic theory. They are chiefly\ninteresting in that they indicate the general tendencies of the Pleiade,\nand show Ronsard's own rhetorical principles, and his feeling for\nnature and natural beauty. The passage has already been cited in which\nhe speaks of the heroic poem as entirely of a martial character, and\nlimits its action to the space of one year. It has also been seen that\nfor him, as for the Italians, verisimilitude, and not fact, is the test\nof poetry. At the same time, the epic poet is to avoid anachronisms and\nmisstatements of fact. Such faults do not disturb the reader so much\nwhen the story is remote in point of time; and the poet should therefore\nalways use an argument, the events of which are at least three or four\nhundred years old. The basis of the work should rest upon some old story\nof past times and of long-established renown, which has gained the\ncredit of men.[378] This notion of the antiquity of the epic fable had\nbeen accepted long ago by the Italians. It is stated, for example, in\nTasso's _Discorsi dell' Arte Poetica_, written about 1564, though not\npublished until 1587, fifteen years after Tasso had visited Ronsard in\nParis.\n\nVauquelin de la Fresnaye has the Pleiade veneration for heroic poetry;\nbut he cannot be said to exhibit any more definite conception of its\nform and function. For him the epic is a vast and magnificent narration,\na world in itself, wherein men, things, and thoughts are wondrously\nmirrored:--\n\n    \"C'est un tableau du monde, un miroir qui raporte\n    Les gestes des mortels en differente sorte....\n    Car toute poesie il contient en soymeme,\n    Soit tragique ou comique, ou soit autre poeme.\"[379]\n\nWith this we may compare what Muzio had said in 1551:--\n\n    \"Il poema sovrano e una pittura\n    De l' universo, e pero in se comprende\n    Ogni stilo, ogni forma, ogni ritratto.\"\n\nBut despite this very vague conception of the epic in the French\nRenaissance, there was, as has been said, a high veneration for it as a\nform, and for its masters, Homer and especially Virgil. This accounts\nfor the large number of attempts at epic composition in France during\nthe next century. But beyond the earlier and indefinite notion of heroic\npoetry the French did not get for a long time to come. Even for Boileau\nthe epic poem was merely the _vaste recit d'une longue action_.[380]\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[335] _Defense_, ii. 3.\n\n[336] _Ibid._ ii. 11.\n\n[337] Ronsard, vii. 310, 325.\n\n[338] Ronsard, vii. 37 _sq._\n\n[339] Ronsard, vi. 311 _sq._\n\n[340] _Essais_, i. 36, Florio's translation.\n\n[341] Ronsard, vii. 322. _Cf._ Aristotle, _Poet._ ix. 1-4; xxv. 6, 7.\n\n[342] _Poet._ iii. 24.\n\n[343] _De Poeta_, pp. 44, 47.\n\n[344] _Art Poet._ i. 187.\n\n[345] _Ibid._ i. 87 _sq._\n\n[346] _Art Poet._ ii. 261.\n\n[347] _Ibid._ i. 697 _sq._\n\n[348] _Osservationi_, Vinegia, 1560, p. 190.\n\n[349] _Art Poet._ i. 744.\n\n[350] _Art Poet._ i. 19. _Cf._ Tasso, cited by Shelley, _Defence_, p.\n42, \"No one merits the name of creator except God and the poet.\"\n\n[351] Sylvester's _Du Bartas_, 1641, p. 242.\n\n[352] _Art Poet._ i. 149.\n\n[353] Sibilet, _Art Poet._ ii. 8.\n\n[354] Pelletier, _Art Poet._ ii. 7.\n\n[355] _Ibid._\n\n[356] Robert, app. iii.\n\n[357] Ronsard, iii. 18 _sq._\n\n[358] _Art Poet._ iii. 153.\n\n[359] _Ibid._ ii. 1113, 441.\n\n[360] _Art Poet._ ii. 459.\n\n[361] _Ibid._ iii. 143.\n\n[362] _Ibid._ iii. 181.\n\n[363] _Ibid._ iii. 189 _sq._\n\n[364] Robert, app. iv.\n\n[365] _Art Poet._ v. 6.\n\n[366] Robert, app. iii.\n\n[367] _Poetica_, p. 534.\n\n[368] Ronsard, iii. 19.\n\n[369] _Arte Poetica_, p. 71.\n\n[370] _Ibid._ p. 12; _De Poeta_, p. 149.\n\n[371] _Art Poet._ ii. 253.\n\n[372] Boileau, _Art Poet._ iii. 45.\n\n[373] Arnaud, app. iii.\n\n[374] _Art Poet._ iii. 45.\n\n[375] _Art Poet._ ii. 8.\n\n[376] _Ibid._ i. 3.\n\n[377] _Ibid._ i. 5. _Cf._ Capriano, cap. v.\n\n[378] Ronsard, iii. 23, 29.\n\n[379] Vauquelin, _Art Poet._ i. 471, 503.\n\n[380] Boileau, _Art Poet._ iii. 161.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nCLASSIC AND ROMANTIC ELEMENTS IN FRENCH CRITICISM DURING THE SIXTEENTH\nCENTURY\n\n\nTHE principle for which the Pleiade stood was, like that of humanism,\nthe imitation of the classics; and the Pleiade was the first to\nintroduce this as a literary principle into France. This means, as\nregards French literature, in the first place, the substitution of the\nclassical instead of its own national tradition; and, secondly, the\nsubstitution of the imitation of the classics for the imitation of\nnature itself. In making these vital substitutions, Du Bellay and his\nschool have been accused of creating once and for all the gulf that\nseparates French poetry from the national life.[381] This accusation is\nperhaps unfair to the Pleiade, which insisted on the poet's going\ndirectly to nature, which emphasized most strongly the sentiment for\nnatural scenery and beauty, and which first declared the importance of\nthe artisan and the peasant as subjects for poetry. But there can be but\nlittle doubt that the separation of poetry from the national life was\nthe logical outcome of the doctrines of the Pleiade. In disregarding the\nolder French poets and the evolution of indigenous poetry, in\nformulating an ideal of the poet as an unsociable and ascetic\ncharacter, it separated itself from the natural tendencies of French\nlife and letters, and helped to effect the final separation between\npoetry and the national development.\n\n\nI. _Classical Elements_\n\nIt was to Du Bellay (1549) that France owes the introduction of\nclassical ideas into French literature. He was the first to regard the\nimitation of the classics as a literary principle, and to advise the\npoet, after the manner of Vida, to purloin all the treasures of Greek\nand Latin literature for the benefit of French poetry. Moreover, he\nfirst formulated the aristocratic conception of the poet held by the\nPleiade. The poet was advised to flee from the ignorant people, to bury\nhimself in the solitude of his own chamber, to dream and to ponder, and\nto content himself with few readers. \"Beyond everything,\" says Du\nBellay, \"the poet should have one or more learned friends to whom he can\nshow all his verses; he should converse not only with learned men, but\nwith all sorts of workmen, mechanics, artists, and others, in order to\nlearn the technical terms of their arts, for use in beautiful\ndescriptions.\"[382] This was a favorite theory of the Pleiade, which\nlike some of our own contemporary writers regarded the technical arts as\nimportant subjects of inspiration. But the essential point at the bottom\nof all these discussions is a high contempt for the opinion of the\nvulgar in matters of art.\n\nThe _Quintil Horatian_ (1550) represents, as has already been seen, a\nnatural reaction against the foreign and classical innovations of the\nPleiade. Du Bellay's advice, \"Prens garde que ce poeme soit eslogne du\nvulgaire,\"--advice insisted upon by many of the rhetoricians of the\nItalian Renaissance,--receives considerable censure; on the contrary,\nsays the author of the _Quintil_, the poet must be understood and\nappreciated by all, unlearned as well as learned, just as Marot was. The\n_Quintil_ was, in fact, the first work to insist on definiteness and\nclearness in poetry, as these were afterward insisted on by Malherbe and\nBoileau. Like Malherbe, and his disciple Deimier, the author of the\n_Academie de l'Art Poetique_ (1610), in which the influence of the\n_Quintil_ is fully acknowledged, the author of the _Quintil_ objects to\nall forms of poetic license, to all useless metaphors that obscure the\nsense, to all Latinisms and foreign terms and locutions.[383] Du Bellay\nhad dwelt on the importance of a knowledge of the classical and Italian\ntongues, and had strongly advised the French poet to naturalize as many\nLatin, Greek, and even Spanish and Italian terms as he could. The\n_Quintil_ is particularly bitter against all such foreign innovations.\nThe poet need not know foreign tongues at all; without this knowledge he\ncan be as good a poet as any of the _graecaniseurs, latiniseurs, et\nitalianiseurs en francoys_. This protest availed little, and Du\nBellay's advice in regard to the use of Italian terms was so well\nfollowed that several years later, in 1578, Henri Estienne vigorously\nprotested against the practice in his _Dialogues du Nouveau Langage\nfrancois italianise_. As Ronsard and Du Bellay represent the foreign\nelements that went to make up classicism in France, so the author of the\n_Quintil Horatian_ may be said to represent in his humble way certain\nenduring elements of the _esprit gaulois_. He represents the national\ntraditions, and he prepares the way for the two great bourgeois poets of\nFrance,--Boileau, with his \"Tout doit tendre au bon sens,\" and Moliere,\nwith his bluff cry, \"Je suis pour le bon sens.\"\n\nAccording to Pelletier (1555), French poetry is too much like colloquial\nspeech; in order to equal classical literature, the poets of France must\nbe more daring and less popular.[384] Pelletier's point of view is here\nthat of the Pleiade, which aimed at a distinct poetic language, diverse\nfrom ordinary prose speech. But he is thoroughly French, and in complete\naccord with the author of the _Quintil Horatian_, in his insistence on\nperfect clearness in poetry. \"Clearness,\" he says, \"is the first and\nworthiest virtue of a poem.\"[385] Obscurity is the chief fault of\npoetry, \"for there is no difference between not speaking at all and not\nbeing understood.\"[386] For these reasons he is against all unnecessary\nand bombastic ornament; the true use of metaphors and comparisons of all\nsorts is \"to explain and represent things as they really are.\"\nSimilarly, Ronsard, while recognizing the value of comparisons,\nrightfully used, as the very nerves and tendons of poetry, declares that\nif instead of perfecting and clarifying, they obscure or confuse the\nidea, they are ridiculous.[387] Obscurity was the chief danger, and\nindeed the chief fault, of the Pleiade; and it is no small merit that\nboth Ronsard and Pelletier perceived this fact.\n\nThe Pleiade exhibits the classic temper in its insistence on study and\nart as essential to poetry; but it was not in keeping with the doctrines\nof later French classicists in so far as it regarded the poetic labors\nas of an unsociable and even ascetic character. In this, as has been\nseen, Ronsard is a true exponent of the doctrines of the new school. But\non the whole the classic spirit was strong in him. He declares that the\npoet's ideas should be high and noble, but not fantastic. \"They should\nbe well ordered and disposed; and while they seem to transcend those of\nthe vulgar, they should always appear to be easily conceived and\nunderstood by any one.\"[388] Here Du Bellay's aristocratic conception of\npoetry is modified so as to become a very typical statement of the\nprinciple underlying French classicism. Again, Ronsard points out, as\nVida and other Italian critics had done before, that the great classical\npoets seldom speak of things by their bare and naked names. Virgil does\nnot, for example, say, \"It was night,\" or \"It was day,\" but he uses some\nsuch circumlocution as this:--\n\n    \"Postera Phoebea lustrabat lampade terras.\"\n\nThe unfortunate results of the excessive use of such circumlocutions\nare well exemplified in the later classicists of France. Ronsard perhaps\nforesaw this danger, and wisely says that circumlocution, if not used\njudiciously, makes the style inflated and bombastic. In the first\npreface to the _Franciade_, he expresses a decided preference for the\nnaive facility of Homer over the artful diligence of Virgil.[389] In the\nsecond preface, however, written a dozen years later, and published\nposthumously as revised by his disciple Binet, there is interesting\nevidence, in the preeminence given to Virgil, of the rapidity with which\nthe Latinization of culture was being effected at this period. \"Our\nFrench authors,\" says Ronsard, \"know Virgil far better than they know\nHomer or any other Greek writer.\" And again, \"Virgil is the most\nexcellent and the most rounded, the most compact and the most perfect of\nall poets.\"[390] Of the naive facility of Homer we hear absolutely\nnothing.\n\nWe are now beginning to enter the era of rules. Ronsard did not\nundervalue the \"rules and secrets\" of poetry; and Vauquelin de la\nFresnaye calls his own critical poem _cet Art de Regles\nrecherchees_.[391] In regard to the imitation of the classics, Vauquelin\nagrees heart and soul with the Pleiade that the ancients\n\n                        \"nous ont desja trace\n    Un sentier qui de nous ne doit estre laisse.\"[392]\n\nNothing, indeed, could be more classical than his comparison of poetry\nto a garden symmetrically laid out and trimmed.[393] Moreover, like the\nclassicists of the next century, he affirms, as does Ronsard also, that\nart must fundamentally imitate and resemble nature.[394]\n\nThe imitation of the classics had also a decided effect on the technique\nof French verse and on the linguistic principles of the Pleiade.\nEnjambement (the carrying over into another line of words required to\ncomplete the sense) and hiatus (the clash of vowels in a line) were both\nemployed in Latin and Greek verse, and were therefore permitted in\nFrench poetry by the new school. Ronsard, however, anticipated the\nreforms of Malherbe and the practice of French classic verse, in\nforbidding both hiatus and enjambement, though in a later work of his\nthis opinion is reversed. He was also probably the first to insist on\nthe regular alternation of masculine and feminine rhymes in verse. This\nhad never been strictly adhered to in practice, or required by stringent\nrule, before Ronsard, but has become the invariable usage of French\npoetry ever since. Ronsard regards this device as a means of making\nverse keep tune more harmoniously with the music of instruments. It was\none of the favorite theories of the Pleiade that poetry is intended, not\nto be read, but to be recited or sung, and that the words and the notes\nshould be coupled lovingly together. Poetry without an accompaniment of\nvocal or instrumental music exhibits but a small part of its harmony or\nperfection; and while composing verses, the poet should always\npronounce them aloud, or rather sing them, in order to test their\nmelody.[395] This conception of music \"married to immortal verse\"\ndoubtless came from Italy, and is connected with the rise of operatic\nmusic. De Laudun (1598) differs from the members of the Pleiade in\nforbidding the use of words newly coined or taken from the dialects of\nFrance, and in objecting to the use of enjambement and hiatus. It is\nevident, therefore, that while the influence of the Pleiade is visible\nthroughout De Laudun's treatise, his disagreement with Ronsard and Du\nBellay on a considerable number of essential points shows that by the\nend of the century the supremacy of the Pleiade had begun to wane.\n\nThe new school also attempted to introduce classical metres into French\npoetry. The similar attempt at using the ancient versification in Italy\nhas already been incidentally referred to.[396] According to Vasari,\nLeon Battista Alberti, in his epistle,\n\n    \"Questa per estrema miserabile pistola mando,\"\n\nwas the first to attempt to reduce the vernacular versification to the\nmeasure of the Latins.[397] In October, 1441, the _Scena dell' Amicizia_\nof Leonardo Dati was composed and recited before the Accademia Coronaria\nat Florence.[398] The first two parts of this piece are written in\nhexameters, the third in Sapphics, the fourth in sonnet form and rhymed.\nThe prologues of Ariosto's comedies, the _Negromante_ and the\n_Cassaria_, are also in classical metres. But the remarkable collection\nof Claudio Tolomei, _Versi e Regole de la Nuova Poesia Toscana_,\npublished at Rome in 1539, marked an epoch in sixteenth-century letters.\nIn this work the employment of classical metres in the vulgar tongue is\ndefended, and rules for their use given; then follows a collection of\nItalian verse written after this fashion by a large number of scholars\nand poets, among them Annibal Caro and Tolomei himself. This group of\nscholars had formed itself into an esoteric circle, the Accademia della\nNuova Poesia; and from the tone of the verses addressed to Tolomei by\nthe members of this circle, it would seem that he regarded himself, and\nwas regarded by them, as the founder and expositor of this poetic\ninnovation.[399] Luigi Alamanni, whose life was chiefly spent at the\nCourt of France, published in 1556 a comedy, _La Flora_, written in\nclassical metres; and two years later Francesco Patrizzi published an\nheroic poem, the _Eridano_, written in hexameters, with a defence of the\nform of versification employed.[400]\n\nThis learned innovation spread throughout western Europe.[401] In\nFrance, toward the close of the fifteenth century, according to Agrippa\nd'Aubigne, a certain Mousset had translated the _Iliad_ and the\n_Odyssey_ into French hexameters; but nothing else is known either of\nMousset or of his translations. As early as 1500 one Michel de\nBouteauville, the author of an _Art de metrifier francois_, wrote a poem\nin classical distichs on the English war. Sibilet (1548) accepted the\nuse of classical metres, though with some distrust, for to him rhyme\nseemed as essential to French poetry as long and short syllables to\nGreek and Latin. In 1562 Ramus, in his _Grammar_, recommended the\nancient versification, and expressed his regret that it had not been\naccepted with favor by the public. In the same year Jacques de la Taille\nwrote his treatise, _La Maniere de faire des Vers en francois comme en\ngrec et en latin_, but it was not published until 1573, eleven years\nafter his death. His main object in writing the book was to show that it\nis not as difficult to employ quantity in French verse as some people\nthink, nor even any more difficult than in Greek and Latin.[402] In\nanswer to the objection that the vulgar tongues are by their nature\nincapable of quantity, he argues, after the manner of Du Bellay, that\nsuch things do not proceed from the nature of a language, but from the\nlabor and diligence of those who employ it. He is tired of vulgar\nrhymes, and is anxious to find a more ingenious and more difficult path\nto Parnassus. He then proceeds to treat of quantity and measure in\nFrench, of feet and verse, and of figures and poetic license.[403]\n\nThe name most inseparably connected with the introduction of classical\nmetres into France in the sixteenth century is that of Jean Antoine de\nBaif. This young member of the Pleiade, after publishing several\nunsuccessful volumes of verse, visited Italy, and was present at the\nCouncil of Trent in 1563. In Italy he doubtless learnt of the metrical\ninnovations then being employed; and upon his return, without any\napparent knowledge of Jacques de la Taille's as yet unpublished\ntreatise, he set about to make a systematic reform in French\nversification. His purpose was to bring about a more perfect unison\nbetween poetry and music; and in order to accomplish this, he adopted\nclassical metres, based as they were on a musical prosody, and accepted\nthe phonetic reforms of Ramus. He also established, no doubt in\nimitation of the Accademia della Nuova Poesia, the Academie de Poesie et\nde Musique, authorized by letters patent from Charles IX. in November,\n1570.[404] The purpose of this academy was to encourage and establish\nthe metrical and musical innovations advocated by Baif and his friends.\nOn the death of Charles IX. the society's existence was menaced; but it\nwas restored, with a broader purpose and function, as the Academie du\nPalais, by Guy du Faur de Pibrac in 1576, under the protection of Henry\nIII., and it continued to nourish until dispersed by the turmoils of the\nLeague about 1585. But Baif's innovations were not entirely without\nfruit. A similar movement, and a not dissimilar society, will be found\nsomewhat later in Elizabethan England.\n\n\nII. _Romantic Elements_\n\nSome of the romantic elements in the critical theory of the Pleiade have\nalready been indicated. The new movement started, in Du Bellay's\n_Defense_, with a high conception of the poet's office. It emphasized\nthe necessity, on the part of the poet, of profound and solitary study,\nof a refined and ascetic life, and of entire separation from vulgar\npeople and pleasures. Du Bellay himself is romantic in that he decides\nagainst the _traditions de regles_,[405] deeming the good judgment of\nthe poet sufficient in matters of taste; but the reason of this was that\nthere were no rules which he would have been willing to accept. It took\nmore than a century for the French mind to arrive at the conclusion that\nreason and rules, in matters of art, proceed from one and the same\ncause.\n\nThe feeling for nature and for natural beauty is very marked in all the\nmembers of the Pleiade. Pelletier speaks of war, love, agriculture, and\npastoral life as the chief themes of poetry.[406] He warns the poet to\nobserve nature and life itself, and not depend on books alone; and he\ndwells on the value of descriptions of landscapes, tempests, and\nsunrises, and similar natural scenes.[407] The feeling for nature is\neven more intense in Ronsard; and like Pelletier, he urges the poet to\ndescribe in verse the rivers, forests, mountains, winds, the sea, gods\nand goddesses, sunrise, night, and noon.[408] In another place the poet\nis advised to embellish his work with accounts of trees, flowers, and\nherbs, especially those dignified by some medicinal or magical virtues,\nand with descriptions of rivers, towns, forests, mountains, caverns,\nrocks, harbors, and forts. Here the appreciation of natural beauty as\nintroduced into modern Europe by the Italian Renaissance--the feeling\nfor nature in its wider aspects, the broad landscape, the distant\nprospect--first becomes visible in France. \"In the painting or rather\nimitation of nature,\" says Ronsard, \"consists the very soul of heroic\npoetry.\"\n\nRonsard also gives warning that ordinary speech is not to be banished\nfrom poetry, or too much evaded, for by doing so the poet is dealing a\ndeath-blow to \"naive and natural poetry.\"[409] This sympathy for the\nsimple and popular forms of poetry as models for the poetic artist is\ncharacteristic of the Pleiade. There is a very interesting passage in\nMontaigne, in which the popular ballads of the peasantry are praised in\na manner that recalls the famous words of Sir Philip Sidney concerning\nthe old song of Percy and Douglas,[410] and which seems to anticipate\nthe interest in popular poetry in England two centuries later:--\n\n     \"Popular and purely natural and indigenous poetry has a certain\n     native simplicity and grace by which it may be favorably\n     compared with the principal beauty of perfect poetry composed\n     according to the rules of art; as may be seen in the\n     villanelles of Gascony, and in songs coming from nations that\n     have no knowledge of any science, not even of writing. But\n     mediocre poetry, which is neither perfect nor popular, is held\n     in disdain by every one, and receives neither honor nor\n     reward.\"[411]\n\nThe Pleiade, as has already been intimated, accepted without reserve the\nPlatonic doctrine of inspiration. By 1560 a considerable number of the\nPlatonic dialogues had already been translated into French. Dolet had\ntranslated two of the spurious dialogues; Duval, the _Lysis_ in 1547;\nand Le Roy, the _Phaedo_ in 1553 and the _Symposium_ in 1559. The thesis\nof Ramus in 1536 had started an anti-Aristotelian tendency in France,\nand the literature of the French Renaissance became impregnated with\nPlatonism.[412] It received the royal favor of Marguerite de Navarre,\nand its influence became fixed in 1551, by the appointment of Ramus to a\nprofessorship in the College de France. Ronsard, Vauquelin, Du Bartas,\nall give expression to the Platonic theory of poetic inspiration. The\npoet must feel what he writes, as Horace says, or his reader will never\nbe moved by his verses; and for the Pleiade, the excitement of high\nemotions in the reader or hearer was the test or touchstone of\npoetry.[413]\n\nThe national and Christian points of view never found expression in\nFrance during the sixteenth century in so marked a manner as in Italy.\nThere are, indeed, traces of both a national and a Christian criticism,\nbut they are hardly more than sporadic. Thus, it has been seen that\nSibilet, as early as 1548, had clearly perceived the distinguishing\ncharacteristic of the French genius. He had noted that the French have\nonly taken from foreign literature what they have deemed useful and of\nnational advantage; and only the other day a distinguished French critic\nasserted in like manner that the high importance of French literature\nconsists in the fact that it has taken from the other literatures of\nEurope the things of universal interest and disregarded the accidental\npicturesque details. Distinct traces of a national point of view may be\nfound in the dramatic criticism of this period. Thus Grevin, in his\n_Bref Discours_ (1562), attempts to justify the substitution of a crowd\nof Caesar's soldiers for the singers of the ancient chorus, in one of his\ntragedies, on the following grounds:--\n\n     \"If it be alleged that this practice was observed throughout\n     antiquity by the Greeks and Latins, I reply that it is\n     permitted to us to attempt some innovation of our own,\n     especially when there is occasion for it, or when the grace of\n     the poem is not diminished thereby. I know well that it will be\n     answered that the ancients employed the chorus of singers to\n     divert the audience, made gloomy perhaps by the cruelties\n     represented in the play. To this I reply that diverse nations\n     require diverse manners of doing things, and that among the\n     French there are other means of doing this without interrupting\n     the continuity of a story.\"[414]\n\nThe Christian point of view, on the other hand, is found in Vauquelin de\nla Fresnaye, who differs from Ronsard and Du Bellay in his preference\nfor scriptural themes in poetry. The Pleiade was essentially pagan,\nVauquelin essentially Christian. The employment of the pagan divinities\nin modern poetry seemed to him often odious, for the times had changed,\nand the Muses were governed by different laws. The poet should attempt\nChristian themes; and indeed the Greeks themselves, had they been\nChristians, would have sung the life and death of Christ. In this\npassage Vauquelin is evidently following Minturno, as the latter was\nafterward followed by Corneille:--\n\n    \"Si les Grecs, comme vous, Chrestiens eussent escrit,\n    Ils eussent les hauts faits chante de Iesus Christ....\n    He! quel plaisir seroit-ce a cette heure de voir\n    Nos poetes Chrestiens, les facons recevoir\n    Du tragique ancien? Et voir a nos misteres\n    Les Payens asservis sous les loix salutaires\n    De nos Saints et Martyrs? et du vieux testament\n    Voir une tragedie extraite proprement?\"[415]\n\nVauquelin's opinion here is out of keeping with the general theory of\nthe Pleiade, especially in that his suggestions imply a return to the\nmediaeval mystery and morality plays. The _Uranie_ of Du Bartas is\nanother and more fervid expression of this same ideal of Christian\npoetry. In the _Semaines_, Du Bartas himself composed the typical\nbiblical poem; and tragedies on Christian or scriptural subjects were\ncomposed during the French Renaissance from the time of Buchanan and\nBeza to that of Garnier and Montchrestien. But Vauquelin's ideal was not\nthat of the later classicism; and Boileau, as has been seen, distinctly\nrejects Christian themes from modern poetry.\n\nAlthough the linguistic and prosodic theories of the Pleiade partly\nanticipate both the theory and the practice of later classicism, the\nmembers of the school exhibit numerous deviations from what was\nafterward accepted as inviolable law in French poetry. The most\nimportant of these deviations concerns the use of words from the various\nFrench dialects, from foreign tongues, and from the technical and\nmechanical arts. A partial expression of this theory of poetic language\nhas already been seen in Du Bellay's _Defense et Illustration_, in which\nthe poet is urged to use the more elegant technical dialectic terms.\nRonsard gives very much the same advice. The best words in all the\nFrench dialects are to be employed by the poet; for it is doubtless to\nthe number of the dialects of Greece that we may ascribe the supreme\nbeauty of its language and literature. The poet is not to affect too\nmuch the language of the court, since it is often very bad, being the\nlanguage of ladies and of young gentlemen who make a profession of\nfighting well rather than of speaking well.[416] Unlike Malherbe and\nhis school, Ronsard allows a certain amount of poetic license, but only\nrarely and judiciously. It is to poetic license, he says, that we owe\nnearly all the beautiful figures with which poets, in their divine\nrapture, enfranchising the laws of grammar, have enriched their works.\n\"This is that birthright,\" said Dryden, a century later, in the preface\nof his _State of Innocence and the Fall of Man_, \"which is derived to us\nfrom our great forefathers, even from Homer down to Ben; and they who\nwould deny it to us have, in plain terms, the fox's quarrel to the\ngrapes--they cannot reach it.\" Vauquelin de la Fresnaye follows Ronsard\nand Du Bellay in urging the use of new and dialect words, the employment\nof terms and comparisons from the mechanic arts, and the various other\ndoctrines by which the Pleiade is distinguished from the school of\nMalherbe. How these useless linguistic innovations were checked and\nbanished from the French language forever will be briefly alluded to in\nthe next chapter.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[381] Brunetiere, i. 45.\n\n[382] _Defense_, ii. 11.\n\n[383] _Cf._ Rucktaeschel, p. 10 _sq._\n\n[384] _Art Poet._ i. 3.\n\n[385] _Ibid._ i. 9.\n\n[386] _Ibid._ i. 10.\n\n[387] Ronsard, iii. 26 _sq._\n\n[388] _Ibid._ vii. 323.\n\n[389] Ronsard, iii. 9 _sq._\n\n[390] _Ibid._ iii. 23, 26.\n\n[391] _Art Poet._ iii. 1151.\n\n[392] _Ibid._ i. 61.\n\n[393] _Art Poet._ i. 22 _sq._\n\n[394] _Ibid._ i. 813. _Cf._ Ronsard, ii. 12.\n\n[395] Ronsard, vii. 320, 332.\n\n[396] The early Italian poetry written in classical metres has been\ncollected by Carducci, _La Poesia Barbara nei Secoli XV e XVI_, Bologna,\n1881.\n\n[397] Carducci, p. 2.\n\n[398] _Ibid._ p. 6 _sq._\n\n[399] Carducci, pp. 55, 87, etc.\n\n[400] _Ibid._ pp. 327, 443. _Cf._ Du Bellay, _Defense_, ii. 7.\n\n[401] For the history of classical metres in France, _cf._ Egger,\n_Hellenisme en France_, p. 290 _sq._, and Darmesteter and Hatzfeld,\n_Seizieme Siecle en France_, p. 113 _sq._\n\n[402] Estienne Pasquier, in his _Recherches de la France_, vii. 11,\nattempts to prove that the French language is capable of employing\nquantity in its verse, but does not decide whether quantity or rhymed\nverse is to be preferred.\n\n[403] _Cf._ Rucktaeschel, p. 24 _sq._, and Carducci, p. 413 _sq._\n\n[404] This academy has been made the subject of an excellent monograph\nby E. Fremy, _L'Academie des Derniers Valois_, Paris, n. d. The statutes\nof the academy will be found on page 39 of this work, and the\nletters-patent granted to it by Charles IX. on page 48.\n\n[405] _Defense_, ii. 11.\n\n[406] _Art Poet._ i. 3.\n\n[407] _Art Poet._ ii. 10; i. 9.\n\n[408] Ronsard, vii. 321, 324.\n\n[409] _Ibid._ iii. 17 _sq._\n\n[410] Sidney, _Defence_, p. 29.\n\n[411] _Essais_, i. 54.\n\n[412] _Cf._ the _Revue d'Hist. litt. de la France_, 1896, iii. 1 _sq._\n\n[413] Ronsard, iii. 28; Du Bellay, _Defense_, ii. 11.\n\n[414] Arnaud, app. ii.\n\n[415] Vauquelin, _Art Poet._ iii. 845; _cf._ iii. 33; i. 901.\n\n[416] Ronsard, vii. 322.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE FORMATION OF THE CLASSIC IDEAL IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY\n\n\nI. _The Romantic Revolt_\n\nIT is a well-known fact that between 1600 and 1630 there was a break in\nthe national evolution of French literature. This was especially so in\nthe drama, and in France the drama is the connecting link between\ncentury and century. The dramatic works of the sixteenth century had\nbeen fashioned after the regular models borrowed by the Italians from\nSeneca. The change that came was a change from Italian classical to\nSpanish romantic models. The note of revolt was beginning to be heard in\nGrevin, De Laudun, and others. The seventeenth century opened with the\nproduction of Hardy's irregular drama, _Les Amours de Theagene et\nCariclee_ (1601), and the influence of the Spanish romantic drama and\nthe Italian pastoral, dominant for over a quarter of a century, was\ninaugurated in France.\n\nThe logic of this innovation was best expounded in Spain, and it was\nthere that arguments in favor of the romantic and irregular drama were\nfirst formulated. The two most interesting defences of the Spanish\nnational drama are doubtless the _Egemplar Poetico_ of Juan de la Cueva\n(1606) and Lope de Vega's _Arte Nuevo de Hacer Comedias_ (1609). Their\ninspiration is at bottom the same. Their authors were both classicists\nat heart, or rather classicists in theory, yet with differences. Juan de\nla Cueva's conception of poetry is entirely based on the precepts of the\nItalians, except in what regards the national drama, for here he is a\npartisan and a patriot. He insists that the difference of time and\ncircumstance frees the Spanish playwright from all necessity of\nimitating the ancients or obeying their rules. \"This change in the\ndrama,\" he says, \"was effected by wise men, who applied to new\nconditions the new things they found most suitable and expedient; for we\nmust consider the various opinions, the times, and the manners, which\nmake it necessary for us to change and vary our operations.\"[417] His\ntheory of the drama was entirely opposed to his conception of the other\nforms of poetry. According to this standpoint, as a recent writer has\nput it, \"the theatre was to imitate nature, and to please; poetry was to\nimitate the Italians, and satisfy the orthodox but minute critic.\"[418]\nLope de Vega, writing three years later, does not deny the universal\napplicability of the Aristotelian canons, and even acknowledges that\nthey are the only true rules. But the people demand romantic plays, and\nthe people, rather than the poet's literary conscience, must be\nsatisfied by the playwright. \"I myself,\" he says, \"write comedies\naccording to the art invented by those whose sole object it is to obtain\nthe applause of the crowd. After all, since it is the public who pays\nfor these stupidities, why should we not serve what it wants?\"[419]\n\nPerhaps the most interesting of all the expositions of the theory of the\nSpanish national drama is a defence of Lope de Vega's plays by one\nAlfonso Sanchez, published in 1618 in France, or possibly in Spain with\na false French imprint. The apology of Sanchez is comprehended in six\ndistinct propositions. First, the arts have their foundation in nature.\nSecondly, a wise and learned man may alter many things in the existing\narts. Thirdly, nature does not obey laws, but gives them. Fourthly, Lope\nde Vega has done well in creating a new art. Fifthly, in his writings\neverything is adjusted to art, and that a real and living art. Lastly,\nLope de Vega has surpassed all the ancient poets.[420] The following\npassage may be extracted from this treatise, if only to show how little\nthere was of novelty in the tenets of the French romanticists two\ncenturies later:--\n\n     \"Is it said that we have no infallible art by which to adjust\n     our precepts? But who can doubt it? We have art, we have\n     precepts and rules which bind us, and the principal precept is\n     to imitate nature, for the works of poets express the nature,\n     the manners, and the genius of the age in which they write....\n     Lope de Vega writes in conformity with art, because he follows\n     nature. If, on the contrary, the Spanish drama adjusted itself\n     to the rules and laws of the ancients, it would proceed\n     against the requirements of nature, and against the foundations\n     of poetry.... The great Lope has done things over and above the\n     laws of the ancients, but never against these laws.\"\n\nAnother Spanish writer defines art as \"an attentive observation of\nexamples graded by experience, and reduced to method and the majesty of\nlaws.\"[421]\n\nIt was this naturalistic conception of the poetic art, and especially of\nthe drama, that obtained in France during the first thirty years of the\nseventeenth century. The French playwrights imitated the Spanish drama\nin practice, and from the Spanish theorists seemed to have derived the\ncritical justification of their plays. Hardy himself, like Lope de Vega,\nargues that \"everything which is approved by usage and the public taste\nis legitimate and more than legitimate.\" Another writer of this time,\nFrancois Ogier, in the preface of the second edition of Jean de\nSchelandre's remarkable drama of _Tyr et Sidon_ (1628), argues for\nintellectual independence of the ancients much in the same way as\nGiraldi Cintio, Pigna, and the other partisans of the _romanzi_ had done\nthree-quarters of a century before. The taste of every nation, he says,\nis quite different from any other. \"The Greeks wrote for the Greeks, and\nin the judgment of the best men of their time they succeeded. But we\nshould imitate them very much better by giving heed to the tastes of our\nown country, and the genius of our own language, than by forcing\nourselves to follow step by step both their intention and their\nexpression.\" This would seem to be at bottom Goethe's famous statement\nthat we can best imitate the Greeks by trying to be as great men as they\nwere. It is interesting to note, in all of these early critics, traces\nof that historical criticism which is usually regarded as the discovery\nof our own century. But after all, the French like the Spanish\nplaywrights were merely beginning to practise what the Italian\ndramatists in their prefaces, and some of the Italian critics in their\ntreatises, had been preaching for nearly a century.\n\nThe Abbe d'Aubignac speaks of Hardy as \"arresting the progress of the\nFrench theatre\"; and whatever practical improvements the French theatre\nowes to him, there can be little doubt that for a certain number of\nyears the evolution of the classical drama was partly arrested by his\nefforts and the efforts of his school. But during this very period the\nfoundations of the great literature that was to come were being built on\nclassical lines; and the continuance of the classical tradition after\n1630 was due to three distinct causes, each of which will be discussed\nby itself as briefly as possible. These three causes were the reaction\nagainst the Pleiade, the second influx of the critical ideas of the\nItalian Renaissance, and the influence of the rationalistic philosophy\nof the period.\n\n\nII. _The Reaction against the Pleiade_\n\nThe reaction against the Pleiade was effected, or at least begun, by\nMalherbe. Malherbe's power or message as a poet is of no concern here;\nin his role of grammarian and critic he accomplished certain important\nand widespread reforms in French poetry. These reforms were connected\nchiefly, if not entirely, with the external or formal side of poetry.\nHis work was that of a grammarian, of a prosodist--in a word, that of a\npurist. He did not, indeed, during his lifetime, publish any critical\nwork, or formulate any critical system. But the reforms he executed were\non this account no less influential or enduring. His critical attitude\nis to be looked for in the memoirs of his life written by his disciple\nRacan, and in his own _Commentaire sur Desportes_, which was not\npublished in its entirety until very recently.[422] This commentary\nconsists of a series of manuscript notes written by Malherbe about the\nyear 1606 in the margins of a copy of Desportes. These notes are of a\nmost fragmentary kind; they seldom go beyond a word or two of\ndisapproval, such as _faible_, _mal concu_, _superflu_, _sans jugement_,\n_sottise_, or _mal imagine_; and yet, together with a few detached\nutterances recorded in his letters and in the memoirs by Racan, they\nindicate quite clearly the critical attitude of Malherbe and the reforms\nhe was bent on bringing about.\n\nThese reforms were, in the first place, largely linguistic. The Pleiade\nhad attempted to widen the sphere of poetic expression in French\nliterature by the introduction of words from the classics, from the\nItalian and even the Spanish, from the provincial dialects, from the old\nromances, and from the terminology of the mechanic arts. All these\narchaisms, neologisms, Latinisms, compound words, and dialectic and\ntechnical expressions, Malherbe set about to eradicate from the French\nlanguage. His object was to purify French, and, as it were, to\ncentralize it. The test he set up was actual usage, and even this was\nnarrowed down to the usage of the court. Ronsard had censured the\nexclusive use of courtly speech in poetry, on the ground that the\ncourtier cares more about fighting well than about speaking or writing\nwell. But Malherbe's ideal was the ideal of French classicism--the ideal\nof Boileau, Racine, and Bossuet. French was to be no longer a hodgepodge\nor a patois, but the pure and perfect speech of the king and his court.\nMalherbe, while thus reacting against the Pleiade, made no pretensions\nof returning to the linguistic usages of Marot; his test was present\nusage, his model the living language.[423] At the same time his reforms\nin language, as in other things, represent a reaction against foreign\ninnovations and a return to the pure French idiom. They were in the\ninterest of the national traditions; and it is this national element\nwhich is his share in the body of neo-classical theory and practice. His\nreforms were all in the direction of that verbal and mechanical\nperfection, the love of which is innate in the French nature, and which\nforms the indigenous or racial element in French classicism. He\neliminated from French verse hiatus, enjambement, inversions, false and\nimperfect rhymes, and licenses or cacophonies of all kinds. He gave it,\nas has been said, mechanical perfection,--\n\n    \"Et reduisit la Muse aux regles du devoir.\"\n\nFor such a man--_tyran des mots et des syllabes_, as Balzac called\nhim--the higher qualities of poetry could have little or no meaning. His\nideals were propriety, clearness, regularity, and force. These, as\nChapelain perceived at the time, are oratorical rather than purely\npoetic qualities; yet for these, all the true qualities that go to make\nup a great poet were to be sacrificed. Of imagination and poetic\nsensibility he takes no account whatsoever. After the verbal perfection\nof the verse, the logical unity of the poem was his chief interest.\nLogic and reason are without doubt important things, but they cannot\nexist in poetry to the exclusion of imagination. By eliminating\ninspiration, as it were, Malherbe excluded the possibility of lyrical\nproduction in France throughout the period of classicism. He hated\npoetic fictions, since for him, as for Boileau, only actual reality is\nbeautiful. If he permitted the employment of mythological figures, it\nwas because they are reasonable and universally intelligible symbols.\nThe French mind is essentially rational and logical, and Malherbe\nreintroduced this native rationality into French poetry. He set up\ncommon sense as a poetic ideal, and made poetry intelligible to the\naverage mind. The Pleiade had written for a learned literary coterie;\nMalherbe wrote for learned and unlearned alike. For the Pleiade, poetry\nhad been a divine office, a matter of prophetic inspiration; for\nMalherbe, it was a trade, a craft, to be learnt like any other. Du\nBellay had said that \"it is a well-accepted fact, according to the most\nlearned men, that natural talents without learning can accomplish more\nin poetry than learning without natural talents.\" Malherbe, it has been\nneatly said, would have upheld the contrary doctrine that \"learning\nwithout natural talents can accomplish more than natural talents without\nlearning.\"[424] After all, eloquence was Malherbe's ideal; and as the\nFrench are by nature an eloquent rather than a poetic people, he\ndeserves the honor of having first shown them how to regain their true\ninheritance. In a word, he accomplished for classical poetry in France\nall that the national instinct, the _esprit gaulois_, could accomplish\nby itself. Consistent structural laws for the larger poetic forms he\ncould not give; these France owes to Italy. Nor could he appreciate the\nhigh notion of abstract perfection, or the classical conception of an\nabsolute standard of taste--that of several expressions or several ways\nof doing something, one way and only one is the right one; this France\nowes to rationalistic philosophy. Malherbe seems almost to be echoing\nMontaigne when he says in a letter to Balzac:--\n\n     \"Do you not know that the diversity of opinions is as natural\n     as the difference of men's faces, and that to wish that what\n     pleases or displeases us should please or displease everybody\n     is to pass the limits where it seems that God in His\n     omnipotence has commanded us to stop?\"[425]\n\nWith this individualistic expression of the questions of opinion and\ntaste, we have but to compare the following passage from La Bruyere to\nindicate how far Malherbe is still from the classic ideal:--\n\n     \"There is a point of perfection in art, as of excellence or\n     maturity in nature. He who is sensible of it and loves it has\n     perfect taste; he who is not sensible of it and loves this or\n     that else on either side of it has a faulty taste. There is\n     then a good and a bad taste, and men dispute of tastes not\n     without reason.\"[426]\n\n\nIII. _The Second Influx of Italian Ideas_\n\nThe second influx of Italian critical ideas into France came through two\nchannels. In the first place, the direct literary relations between\nItaly and France during this period were very marked. The influence of\nMarino, who lived for a long time at Paris and published a number of his\nworks there, was not inconsiderable, especially upon the French\nconcettists and _precieux_. Two Italian ladies founded and presided over\nthe famous Hotel de Rambouillet,--Julie Savelli, Marquise de Pisani, and\nCatherine de Vivonne, Marquise de Rambouillet. It was partly to the\ninfluence of the Accademia della Crusca that the foundation of the\nFrench Academy was due. Chapelain and Menage were both members of the\nItalian society, and submitted to it their different opinions on a verse\nof Petrarch. Like the Accademia della Crusca, the French Academy\npurposed the preparation of a great dictionary; and each began its\nexistence by attacking a great work of literature, the _Gerusalemme\nLiberata_ in the case of the Italian society, Corneille's _Cid_ in the\ncase of the French. The regency of Marie de Medici, the supremacy of\nMazarin, and other political events, all conspired to bring Italy and\nFrance into the closest social and literary relationship.\n\nBut the two individuals who first brought into French literature and\nnaturalized the primal critical concepts of Italy were Chapelain and\nBalzac. Chapelain's private correspondence indicates how thorough was\nhis acquaintance with the critical literature of Italy. \"I have a\nparticular affection for the Italian language,\" he wrote in 1639 to\nBalzac.[427] Of the _Cid_, he says that \"in Italy it would be considered\nbarbarous, and there is not an academy which would not banish it beyond\nthe confines of its jurisdiction.\"[428] Speaking of the greatness of\nRonsard, he says that his own opinion was in accord with that of \"two\ngreat savants beyond the Alps, Speroni and Castelvetro\";[429] and he had\nconsiderable correspondence with Balzac on the subject of the\ncontroversy between Caro and Castelvetro in the previous century. In a\nword, he knew and studied the critics and scholars of Italy, and was\ninterested in discussing them. Balzac's interest, on the other hand, was\nrather toward Spanish literature; but he was the agent of the Cardinal\nde la Valette at Rome, and it was on his return to France that he\npublished the first collection of his letters. The influence of both\nChapelain and Balzac on French classicism was considerable. During the\nsixteenth century, literary criticism had been entirely in the hands of\nlearned men. Chapelain and Balzac vulgarized the critical ideas of the\nItalian Renaissance, and made them popular, human, but inviolable.\nBalzac introduced into France the fine critical sense of the Italians;\nChapelain introduced their formal rules, and imposed the three unities\non French tragedy. Together they effected a humanizing of the classical\nideal, even while subjecting it to rules.\n\nIt was to the same Italian influences that France owed the large number\nof artificial epics that appeared during this period. About ten epics\nwere published in the fifteen years between 1650 and 1665.[430] The\nItalians of the sixteenth century had formulated a fixed theory of the\nartificial epic; and the nations of western Europe rivalled one another\nin attempting to make practical use of this theory. It is to this that\nthe large number of Spanish epics in the sixteenth century and of French\nepics in the seventeenth may be ascribed. Among the latter we may\nmention Scudery's _Alaric_, Lemoyne's _Saint Louis_, Saint-Amant's\n_Moyse Sauve_, and Chapelain's own epic, _La Pucelle_, awaited by the\npublic for many years, and published only to be damned forever by\nBoileau.\n\nThe prefaces of all these epics indicate clearly enough their\nindebtedness to the Italians. They were indeed scarcely more than\nattempts to put the rules and precepts of the Italian Renaissance into\npractice. \"I then consulted the masters of this art,\" says Scudery, in\nthe preface of _Alaric_, \"that is to say, Aristotle and Horace, and\nafter them Macrobius, Scaliger, Tasso, Castelvetro, Piccolomini, Vida,\nVossius, Robortelli, Riccoboni, Paolo Beni, Mambrun, and several others;\nand passing from theory to practice I reread very carefully the _Iliad_\nand the _Odyssey_, the _AEneid_, the _Pharsalia_, the _Thebaid_, the\n_Orlando Furioso_, and the _Gerusalemme Liberata_, and many other epic\npoems in diverse languages.\" Similarly, Saint-Amant, in the preface of\nhis _Moyse Sauve_, says that he had rigorously observed \"the unities of\naction and place, which are the principal requirements of the epic; and\nbesides, by an entirely new method, I have restricted my subject not\nonly within twenty-four hours, the limit of the dramatic poem, but\nalmost within half of that time. This is more than even Aristotle,\nHorace, Scaliger, Castelvetro, Piccolomini, and all the other moderns\nhave ever required.\" It is obvious that for these epic-makers the rules\nand precepts of the Italians were the final tests of heroic poetry.\nSimilarly, the Abbe d'Aubignac, at the beginning of his _Pratique du\nTheatre_, advises the dramatic poet to study, among other writers,\n\"Aristotle, Horace, Castelvetro, Vida, Heinsius, Vossius, and Scaliger,\nof whom not a word should be lost.\" From the Italians also came the\ntheory of poetry in general as held throughout the period of classicism,\nand expounded by the Abbe d'Aubignac, La Mesnardiere, Corneille,\nBoileau, and numerous others; and it is hardly necessary to repeat that\nRapin, tracing the history of criticism at the beginning of his\n_Reflexions sur la Poetique_, deals with scarcely any critics but the\nItalians.\n\nBesides the direct influence of the Italian critics, another influence\ncontributed its share to the sum of critical ideas which French\nclassicism owes to the Italian Renaissance. This was the tradition of\nScaliger, carried on by the Dutch scholars Heinsius and Vossius. Daniel\nHeinsius was the pupil of Joseph Scaliger, the illustrious son of the\nauthor of the _Poetics_; and through Heinsius the dramatic theories of\nthe elder Scaliger influenced classical tragedy in France. The treatise\nof Heinsius, _De Tragoediae Constitutione_, published at Leyden in 1611,\nwas called by Chapelain \"the quintessence of Aristotle's _Poetics_\"; and\nChapelain called Heinsius himself \"a prophet or sibyl in matters of\ncriticism.\"[431] Annoted by Racine, cited as an infallible authority by\nCorneille, Heinsius's work exercised a marked influence on French\ntragedy by fixing upon it the laws of Scaliger; and later the works of\nVossius cooperated with those of Heinsius in widening the sphere of the\nItalian influence. It is evident, therefore, that while French\nliterature had already during the sixteenth century taken from the\nItalian Renaissance its respect for antiquity and its admiration for\nclassical mythology, the seventeenth century owed to Italy its\ndefinitive conception of the theory of poetry, and especially certain\nrigid structural laws for tragedy and epic. It may be said without\nexaggeration that there is not an essential idea or precept in the works\nof Corneille and D'Aubignac on dramatic poetry, or of Le Bossu and\nMambrun on epic poetry, that cannot be found in the critical writings of\nthe Italian Renaissance.\n\n\nIV. _The Influence of Rationalistic Philosophy_\n\nThe influence of rationalistic philosophy on the general attitude of\nclassicism manifested itself in what may be called the gradual\nrationalization of all that the Renaissance gave to France. The process\nthus effected is most definitely exhibited in the evolution of the rules\nwhich France owed to Italy. It has already been shown how the rules and\nprecepts of the Italians had originally been based on authority alone,\nbut had gradually obtained a general significance of their own,\nregardless of their ancient authority. Somewhat later, in England, the\nAristotelian canons were defended by Ben Jonson on the ground that\nAristotle understood the causes of things, and that what others had\ndone by chance or custom, Aristotle did by reason alone.[432] By this\ntime, then, the reasonableness of the Aristotelian canons was distinctly\nfelt, although they were still regarded as having authoritativeness in\nthemselves; and it was first in the French classicists of the\nseventeenth century that reason and the ancient rules were regarded as\none and inseparable.\n\nRationalism, indeed, is to be found at the very outset of the critical\nactivity of the Renaissance; and Vida's words, already cited, \"Semper\nnutu rationis eant res,\" represent in part the attitude of the\nRenaissance mind toward literature. But the \"reason\" of the earlier\ntheorists was merely empirical and individualistic; it did not differ\nessentially from Horace's ideal of \"good sense.\" In fact, rationalism\nand humanism, while existing together throughout the Renaissance, were\nnever to any extent harmonized; and extreme rationalism generally took\nthe form of an avowed antagonism to Aristotle. The complete\nrationalization of the laws of literature is first evident toward the\nmiddle of the seventeenth century. \"The rules of the theatre,\" says the\nAbbe d'Aubignac, at the beginning of his _Pratique du Theatre_, \"are\nfounded, not on authority, but on reason,\" and if they are called the\nrules of the ancients, it is simply \"because the ancients have admirably\npractised them.\" Similarly, Corneille, in his discourse _Des Trois\nUnites_, says that the unity of time would be arbitrary and tyrannical\nif it were merely required by Aristotle's _Poetics_, but that its real\nprop is the natural reason; and Boileau sums up the final attitude of\nclassicism in these words:--\n\n    \"Aimez donc la _raison_; que toujours vos ecrits\n    Empruntent _d'elle seule_ et leur lustre et leur prix.\"[433]\n\nHere the rationalizing process is complete, and the actual requirements\nof authority become identical with the dictates of the reason.\n\nThe rules expounded by Boileau, while for the most part the same as\nthose enunciated by the Italians, are no longer mere rules. They are\nlaws dictated by abstract and universal reason, and hence inevitable and\ninfallible; they are not tyrannical or arbitrary, but imposed upon us by\nthe very nature of the human mind. This is not merely, as we have said,\nthe good nature and the good sense, in a word, the sweet reasonableness,\nof such a critic as Horace.[434] There is more than this in the\nclassicists of the seventeenth century. Good sense becomes\nuniversalized, becomes, in fact, as has been said, not merely an\nempirical notion of good sense, but the abstract and universal reason\nitself. From this follows the absolute standard of taste at the bottom\nof classicism, as exemplified in the passage already cited from La\nBruyere, and in such a line as this from Boileau:--\n\n    \"La raison pour marcher n'a souvent qu'une voie.\"[435]\n\nThis rationalization of the Renaissance rules of poetry was effected\nby contemporary philosophy; if not by the works and doctrines\nof Descartes himself, at least by the general tendency of the\nhuman mind at this period, of which these works and doctrines are the\nmost perfect expressions. Boileau's _Art Poetique_ has been aptly called\nthe _Discours de la Methode_ of French poetry. So that while the\ncontribution of Malherbe and his school to classicism lay in the\ninsistence on clearness, propriety, and verbal and metrical perfection,\nand the contribution of the Italian Renaissance lay in the infusion of\nrespect for classical antiquity and the imposition of a certain body of\nfixed rules, the contribution of contemporary philosophy lay in the\nrationalization or universalization of these rules, and in the\nimposition of an abstract and absolute standard of taste.\n\nBut Cartesianism brought with it certain important limitations and\ndeficiencies. Boileau himself is reported to have said that \"the\nphilosophy of Descartes has cut the throat of poetry;\"[436] and there\ncan be no doubt that this is the exaggerated expression of a certain\ninevitable truth. The excessive insistence on the reason brought with it\na corresponding undervaluation of the imagination. The rational and\nrigidly scientific basis of Cartesianism was forced on classicism; and\nreality became its supreme object and its final test:--\n\n    \"Rien n'est beau que le vrai.\"\n\nReference has already been made to various disadvantages imposed on\nclassicism by the very nature of its origin and growth; but the most\nvital of all these disadvantages was the influence of the Cartesian\nphilosophy or philosophic temper. With the scientific basis thus imposed\non literature, its only safeguard against extinction was the vast\ninfluence of a certain body of fixed rules, which literature dared not\ndeviate from, and which it attempted to justify on the wider grounds of\nphilosophy. These rules, then, the contribution of Italy, saved poetry\nin France from extinction during the classical period; and of this a\nremarkable confirmation is to be found in the fact that not until the\nrationalism of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries was superseded\nin France, did French literature rid itself of this body of Renaissance\nrules. Cartesianism, or at least the rationalistic spirit, humanized\nthese rules, and imposed them on the rest of Europe. But though\nquintessentialized, they remained artificial, and circumscribed the\nworkings of the French imagination for over a century.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[417] Sedano, _Parnaso Espanol_, viii. 61.\n\n[418] Hannay, _Later Renaissance_, 1898, p. 39.\n\n[419] Menendez y Pelayo, iii. 434.\n\n[420] _Ibid._ iii. 447 _sq._\n\n[421] Menendez y Pelayo, iii. 464.\n\n[422] The _Commentaire_ is printed entire in Lalanne's edition of\nMalherbe, Paris, 1862, vol. iv. The critical doctrine of Malherbe has\nbeen formulated by Brunot, _Doctrine de Malherbe_, pp. 105-236.\n\n[423] _Cf._ Horace, _Ars Poet._ 71, 72.\n\n[424] Brunot, p. 149.\n\n[425] _Oeuvres_, Lalanne's edition, iv. 91.\n\n[426] _Caracteres_, \"Des Ouvrages de l'Esprit.\"\n\n[427] _Lettres_, i. 413. The references are to the edition by Tamizey de\nLarroque, Paris, 1880-1883.\n\n[428] _Ibid._ i. 156.\n\n[429] _Ibid._ i. 631 _sq._\n\n[430] These epics have been treated at length by Duchesne, _Histoire des\nPoemes Epiques francais du XVII Siecle_, Paris, 1870.\n\n[431] _Lettres_, i. 269, 424. On the theories of Heinsius, see Zerbst,\n_Ein Vorlaeufer Lessings in der Aristotelesinterpretation_, Jena, 1887.\n\n[432] _Discoveries_, p. 80.\n\n[433] _Art Poet._ i. 37.\n\n[434] _Cf._ Brunetiere, _Etudes Critiques_, iv. 136; and Krantz, p. 93\n_sq._\n\n[435] _Art Poet._ i. 48.\n\n[436] Reported by J. B. Rousseau, in a letter to Brossette, July 21,\n1715.\n\n\n\n\nPART THIRD\n\n_LITERARY CRITICISM IN ENGLAND_\n\n\n\n\nLITERARY CRITICISM IN ENGLAND\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nTHE EVOLUTION OF ENGLISH CRITICISM FROM ASCHAM TO MILTON\n\n\nLITERARY criticism in England during the Elizabethan age was neither so\ninfluential nor so rich and varied as the contemporary criticism of\nItaly and France. This fact might perhaps be thought insufficient to\naffect the interest or patriotism of English-speaking people, yet the\nmost charming critical monument of this period, Sidney's _Defence of\nPoesy_, has been slightingly referred to by the latest historian of\nEnglish poetry. Such interest and importance as Elizabethan criticism\npossesses must therefore be of an historical nature, and lies in two\ndistinct directions. In the first place, the study of the literature of\nthis period will show, not only that there was a more or less complete\nbody of critical doctrine during the Renaissance, but also that\nEnglishmen shared in this creation, or inheritance, of the Renaissance\nas truly as did their continental neighbors; and on the other hand this\nstudy may be said to possess an interest in itself, in so far as it will\nmake the growth of classicism in England intelligible, and will indicate\nthat the formation of the classic ideal had begun before the\nintroduction of the French influence. In neither case, however, can\nearly English criticism be considered wholly apart from the general body\nof Renaissance doctrine; and its study loses in importance and\nperspicuity according as it is kept distinct from the consideration of\nthe critical literature of France, and especially of Italy.\n\nEnglish criticism, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,\npassed through five more or less distinct stages of development. The\nfirst stage, characterized by the purely rhetorical study of literature,\nmay be said to begin with Leonard Coxe's _Arte or Crafte of Rhetoryke_,\na hand-book for young students, compiled about 1524, chiefly from one of\nthe rhetorical treatises of Melanchthon.[437] This was followed by\nWilson's _Arte of Rhetorike_ (1553), which is more extensive and\ncertainly more original than Coxe's manual, and which has been called by\nWarton \"the first book or system of criticism in our language.\" But the\nmost important figure of this period is Roger Ascham. The educational\nsystem expounded in his _Scholemaster_, written between 1563 and 1568,\nhe owed largely to his friend, John Sturm, the Strasburg humanist, and\nto his teacher, Sir John Cheke, who had been Greek lecturer at the\nUniversity of Padua; but for the critical portions of this work he seems\ndirectly indebted to the rhetorical treatises of the Italians.[438] Yet\nhis obligations to the Italian humanists did not prevent the expression\nof his stern and unyielding antagonism to the romantic Italian spirit\nas it influenced the imaginative literature of his time. In studying\nearly English literature it must always be kept in mind that the Italian\nRenaissance influenced the Elizabethan age in two different directions.\nThe Italianization of English poetry had been effected, or at least\nbegun, by the publication of Tottel's _Miscellany_ in 1557; on this, the\ncreative side of English literature, the Italian influence was\ndistinctly romantic. The influence of the Italian humanists, on the\nother hand, was directly opposed to this romantic spirit; even in their\nown country they had antagonized all that was not classical in tendency.\nAscham, therefore, as a result of his humanistic training, became not\nonly the first English man of letters, but also the first English\nclassicist.\n\nThe first stage of English criticism, then, was entirely given up to\nrhetorical study. It was at this time that English writers first\nattained the appreciation of form and style as distinguishing features\nof literature; and it was to this appreciation that the formation of an\nEnglish prose style was due. This period may therefore be compared with\nthe later stages of Italian humanism in the fifteenth century; and the\nlater humanists were the masters and models of these early English\nrhetoricians. Gabriel Harvey, as a Ciceronian of the school of Bembo,\nwas perhaps their last representative.\n\nThe second stage of English criticism--a period of classification and\nespecially of metrical studies--commences with Gascoigne's _Notes of\nInstruction concerning the making of Verse_,[439] published in 1575, and\nmodelled apparently on Ronsard's _Abrege de l'Art Poetique francois_\n(1565). Besides this brief pamphlet, the first work on English\nversification, this stage also includes Puttenham's _Arte of English\nPoesie_, the first systematic classification of poetic forms and\nsubjects, and of rhetorical figures; Bullokar's _Bref Grammar_, the\nfirst systematic treatise on English grammar; and Harvey's _Letters_ and\nWebbe's _Discourse of English Poetrie_, the first systematic attempts to\nintroduce classical metres into English poetry. This period was\ncharacterized by the study and classification of the practical questions\nof language and versification; and in this labor it was cooperating with\nthe very tendencies which Ascham had been attempting to counteract. The\nstudy of the verse-forms introduced into England from Italy helped\nmaterially to perfect the external side of English poetry; and a similar\nresult was obtained by the crude attempts at quantitative verse\nsuggested by the school of Tolomei. The Italian prosodists were thus,\ndirectly or indirectly, the masters of the English students of this era.\n\nThe representative work of the third stage--the period of philosophical\nand apologetic criticism--is Sir Philip Sidney's _Defence of Poesy_,\npublished posthumously in 1595, though probably written about 1583.\nHarington's _Apologie of Poetrie_, Daniel's _Defence of Ryme_, and a few\nothers, are also contemporary treatises. These works, as their titles\nindicate, are all defences or apologies, and were called forth by the\nattacks of the Puritans on poetry, especially dramatic poetry, and the\nattacks of the classicists on English versification and rhyme. Required\nby the exigencies of the moment to defend poetry in general, these\nauthors did not attempt to do so on local or temporary grounds, but set\nout to examine the fundamental grounds of criticism, and to formulate\nthe basic principles of poetry. In this attempt they consciously or\nunconsciously sought aid from the critics of Italy, and thus commenced\nin England the influence of the Italian theory of poetry. How great was\ntheir indebtedness to the Italians the course of the present study will\nmake somewhat clear; but it is certainly remarkable that this\nindebtedness has never been pointed out before. Speaking of Sidney's\n_Defence of Poesy_, one of the most distinguished English authorities on\nthe Renaissance says: \"Much as the Italians had recently written upon\nthe theory of poetry, I do not remember any treatise which can be said\nto have supplied the material or suggested the method of this\napology.\"[440] On the contrary, the doctrines discussed by Sidney had\nbeen receiving very similar treatment from the Italians for over half a\ncentury; and it can be said without exaggeration that there is not an\nessential principle in the _Defence of Poesy_ which cannot be traced\nback to some Italian treatise on the poetic art. The age of which Sidney\nis the chief representative is therefore the first period of the\ninfluence of Italian critics.\n\nThe fourth stage of English criticism, of which Ben Jonson is, as it\nwere, the presiding genius, occupies the first half of the seventeenth\ncentury. The period that preceded it was in general romantic in its\ntendencies; that of Jonson leaned toward a strict though never servile\nclassicism. Sidney's contemporaries had studied the general theory of\npoetry, not for the purpose of enunciating rules or dogmas of criticism,\nbut chiefly in order to defend the poetic art, and to understand its\nfundamental principles. The spirit of the age was the spirit, let us\nsay, of Fracastoro; that of Jonson was, in a moderate form, the spirit\nof Scaliger or Castelvetro. With Jonson the study of the art of poetry\nbecame an inseparable guide to creation; and it is this element of\nself-conscious art, guided by the rules of criticism, which\ndistinguishes him from his predecessors. The age which he represents is\ntherefore the second period of the influence of Italian criticism; and\nthe same influence also is to be seen in such critical poems as\nSuckling's _Session of the Poets_, and the _Great Assises holden in\nParnassus_, ascribed to Wither, both of which may be traced back to the\nclass of critical poetry of which Boccalini's _Ragguagli di Parnaso_ is\nthe type.[441]\n\nThe fifth period, which covers the second half of the seventeenth\ncentury, is characterized by the introduction of French influence, and\nbegins with Davenant's letter to Hobbes, and Hobbes's answer, both\nprefixed to the epic of _Gondibert_ (1651). These letters, written while\nDavenant and Hobbes were at Paris, display many of the characteristic\nfeatures of the new influence,--the rationalistic spirit, the stringent\nclassicism, the restriction of art to the imitation of nature, with the\nfurther limitation of nature to the life of the city and the court, and\nthe confinement of the imagination to what is called \"wit.\" This\nspecialized sense of the word \"wit\" is characteristic of the new age, of\nwhich Dryden, in part the disciple of Davenant, is the leading figure.\nThe Elizabethans used the term in the general sense of the\nunderstanding,--wit, the mental faculty, as opposed to will, the faculty\nof volition. With the neo-classicists it was used sometimes to\nrepresent, in a limited sense, the imagination,[442] more often,\nhowever, to designate what we should call fancy,[443] or even mere\npropriety of poetic expression;[444] but whatever its particular use, it\nwas always regarded as of the essence of poetic art.\n\nWith the fifth stage of English criticism this essay is not concerned.\nThe history of literary criticism in England will be traced no farther\nthan 1650, when the influence of France was substituted for that of\nItaly. This section deals especially with the two great periods of\nItalian influence,--that of Sidney and that of Ben Jonson. These two men\nare the central figures, and their names, like those of Dryden, Pope,\nand Samuel Johnson, represent distinct and important epochs in the\nhistory of literary criticism.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[437] _Cf._ _Mod. Lang. Notes_, 1898, xiii. 293.\n\n[438] _Cf._ Ascham, _Works_, ii. 174-191.\n\n[439] The _Reulis and Cautelis of Scottis Poesie_ by James VI. of\nScotland is wholly based on Gascoigne's treatise.\n\n[440] J. A. Symonds, _Sir Philip Sidney_, p. 157. _Cf._ also, Sidney,\n_Defence_, Cook's introduction, p. xxvii.\n\n[441] _Cf._ Foffano, p. 173 _sq._ In Spain, Lope de Vega's _Laurel de\nApolo_ and Cervantes' _Viage del Parnaso_ belong to the same class of\npoems.\n\n[442] _Cf._ Dryden, ded. epist. to the _Annus Mirabilis_.\n\n[443] Addison, _Spectator_, no. 62.\n\n[444] Dryden, preface to the _State of Innocence_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE GENERAL THEORY OF POETRY IN THE ELIZABETHAN AGE\n\n\nTHOSE who have some acquaintance, however superficial, with the literary\ncriticism of the Italian Renaissance will find an account of the\nElizabethan theory of poetry a twice-told tale. In England, as in\nFrance, criticism during this period was of a more practical character\nthan in Italy; but even for the technical questions discussed by the\nElizabethans, some prototype, or at least some equivalent, may be found\namong the Italians. The first four stages of English criticism have\ntherefore little novelty or original value; and their study is chiefly\nimportant as evidence of the gradual application of the ideas of the\nRenaissance to English literature.\n\nThe writers of the first stage, as might be expected, concerned\nthemselves but little with the theory of poetry, beyond repeating here\nand there the commonplaces they found in the Italian rhetoricians. Yet\nit is interesting to note that as early as 1553, Wilson, in the third\nbook of his _Rhetoric_, gives expression to the allegorical conception\nof poetry which in Italy had held sway from the time of Petrarch and\nBoccaccio, and which, more than anything else, colored critical theory\nin Elizabethan England. The ancient poets, according to Wilson, did not\nspend their time inventing meaningless fables, but used the story merely\nas a framework for contents of ethical, philosophic, scientific, or\nhistorical import; the trials of Ulysses, for example, were intended to\nfurnish a lively picture of man's misery in this life. The poets are, in\nfact, wise men, spiritual legislators, reformers, who have at heart the\nredressing of wrongs; and in accomplishing this end,--either because\nthey fear to rebuke these wrongs openly, or because they doubt the\nexpediency or efficacy of such frankness with ignorant people,--they\nhide their true meaning under the veil of pleasant fables. This theory\nof poetic art, one of the commonplaces of the age, may be described as\nthe great legacy of the Middle Ages to Renaissance criticism.\n\nThe writers of the second stage were, in many cases, too busy with\nquestions of versification and other practical matters to find time for\nabstract theorizing on the art of poetry. A long period of rhetorical\nand metrical study had helped to formulate a rhetorical and technical\nconception of the poet's function, aptly exemplified in the sonnet\ndescribing the perfect poet prefixed to King James's brief treatise on\nScotch poetry.[445] The marks of a perfect poet are there given as\nskilfulness in the rhetorical figures, quick wit, as shown in the use of\napt and pithy words, and a good memory;--a merely external view of the\npoet's gifts, which takes no account of such essentials as imagination,\nsensibility, and knowledge of nature and human life.\n\nWebbe's _Discourse of English Poetrie_ (1586) gives expression to a\nconception of the object of poetry which is the logical consequence of\nthe allegorical theory, and which was therefore almost universally\naccepted by Renaissance writers. The poet teaches by means of the\nallegorical truth hidden under the pleasing fables he invents; but his\nfirst object must be to make these fables really pleasing, or the reader\nis deterred at the outset from any acquaintance with the poet's works.\nPoetry is therefore a delightful form of instruction; it pleases and\nprofits together; but first of all it must delight, \"for the very sum\nand chiefest essence of poetry did always for the most part consist in\ndelighting the readers or hearers.\"[446] The poet has the highest\nwelfare of man at heart; and by his sweet allurements to virtue and\neffective caveats against vice, he gains his end, not roughly or\ntyrannically, but, as it were, with a loving authority.[447] From the\nvery beginnings of human society poetry has been the means of civilizing\nmen, of drawing them from barbarity to civility and virtue. If it be\nobjected that this art--or rather, from the divine origin of its\ninspiration, this more than art--has ever been made the excuse for the\nenticing expression of obscenity and blasphemy, Webbe has three answers.\nIn the first place, poetry is to be moralized, that is, to be read\nallegorically. The _Metamorphoses_ of Ovid, for example, will become,\nwhen so understood, a fount of ethical teaching; and Harington, a few\nyears later, actually explains in detail the allegorical significance of\nthe fourth book of that poem.[448] This was a well-established\ntradition, and indeed a favorite occupation, of the Middle Ages; and the\n_Ovide Moralise_, a long poem by Chretien Le Gouais, written about the\nbeginning of the fourteenth century, and the equally long Ovidian\ncommentary of Pierre Bercuire, are typical examples of this\npractice.[449] In the second place, the picture of vices to be found in\npoetry is intended, not to entice the reader to imitate them, but rather\nto deter sensible men from doing likewise by showing the misfortune that\ninevitably results from evil. Moreover, obscenity is in no way\nessentially connected with poetic art; it is to the abuse of poetry, and\nnot to poetry itself, that we must lay all blame for this fault.\n\nA still higher conception of the poet's function is to be found in\nPuttenham's _Arte of English Poesie_ (1589). The author of this treatise\ninforms us that he had lived at the courts of France, Italy, and Spain,\nand knew the languages of these and other lands; and the results of his\ntravels and studies are sufficiently shown in his general theory of\npoetry. His conception of the poet is directly based on that of\nScaliger. Poetry, in its highest form, is an art of \"making,\" or\ncreation; and in this sense the poet is a creator like God, and forms a\nworld out of nothing. In another sense, poetry is an art of imitation,\nin that it presents a true and lively picture of everything set before\nit. In either case, it can attain perfection only by a divine instinct,\nor by a great excellence of nature, or by vast observation and\nexperience of the world, or indeed by all these together; but whatever\nthe source of its inspiration, it is ever worthy of study and praise,\nand its creators deserve preeminence and dignity above all other\nartificers, scientific or mechanical.[450] The poets were the first\npriests, prophets, and legislators of the world, the first philosophers,\nscientists, orators, historians, and musicians. They have been held in\nthe highest esteem by the greatest men from the very first; and the\nnobility, antiquity, and universality of their art prove its preeminence\nand worth. With such a history and such a nature, it is sacrilege to\ndebase poetry, or to employ it upon any unworthy subject or for ignoble\npurpose. Its chief themes should therefore be such as these: the honor\nand glory of the gods, the worthy deeds of noble princes and great\nwarriors, the praise of virtue and the reproof of vice, instruction in\nmoral doctrine or scientific knowledge, and finally, \"the common solace\nof mankind in all the travails and cares of this transitory life,\" or\neven for mere recreation alone.[451]\n\nThis is the sum of poetic theorizing during the second stage of English\ncriticism. Yet it was at this very time that the third, or apologetic,\nperiod was prepared for by the attacks which the Puritans directed\nagainst poetry, and especially the drama. Of these attacks, Gosson's,\nas the most celebrated, may be taken as the type. Underlying the rant\nand exaggerated vituperation of his _Schoole of Abuse_ (1579), there is\na basis of right principles, and some evidence at least of a spirit not\nwholly vulgar. He was a moral reformer, an idealist, who looked back\nwith regret toward \"the old discipline of England,\" and contrasted it\nwith the spirit of his own day, when Englishmen seemed to have \"robbed\nGreece of gluttony, Italy of wantonness, Spain of pride, France of\ndeceit, and Dutchland of quaffing.\"[452] The typical evidences of this\nmoral degradation and effeminacy he found in poetry and the drama; and\nit is to this motive that his bitter assault on both must be ascribed.\nHe specifically insists that his intention was not to banish poetry, or\nto condemn music, or to forbid harmless recreation to mankind, but\nmerely to chastise the abuse of all these.[453] He praises plays which\npossess real moral purpose and effect, and points out the true use and\nthe worthy subjects of poetry much in the same manner as Puttenham does\na few years later.[454] But he affirms, as Plato had done hundreds of\nyears before, and as a distinguished French critic has done only the\nother day, that art contains within itself the germ of its own\ndisintegration; and he shows that in the English poetry of his own time\nthis disintegration had already taken place. The delights and ornaments\nof verse, intended really to make moral doctrine more pleasing and less\nabstruse and thorny, had become, with his contemporaries, mere alluring\ndisguises for obscenity and blasphemy.\n\nIn the first of the replies to Gosson, Lodge's _Defence of Poetry,\nMusick, and Stage Plays_, written before either of the treatises of\nWebbe and Puttenham, are found the old principles of allegorical and\nmoral interpretation,--principles which to us may seem well worn, but\nwhich to the English criticism of that time were novel enough. Lodge\npoints out the efficacy of poetry as a civilizing factor in primitive\ntimes, and as a moral agency ever since. If the poets have on occasion\nerred, so have the philosophers, even Plato himself, and\ngrievously.[455] Poetry is a heavenly gift, and is to be contemned only\nwhen abused and debased. Lodge did not perceive that his point of view\nwas substantially the same as his opponent's; and indeed, throughout the\nElizabethan age, there was this similarity in the point of view of those\nwho attacked and those who defended poetry. Both sides admitted that not\npoetry, but its abuse, is to be disparaged; and they differed chiefly in\nthat one side insisted almost entirely on the ideal perfection of the\npoetic art, while the other laid stress on the debased state into which\nit had fallen. A dual point of view was attempted in a work, licensed in\nJanuary, 1600, which pretended to be \"a commendation of true poetry, and\na discommendation of all bawdy, ribald, and paganized poets.\"[456] This\nPuritan movement against the paganization of poetry corresponds to the\nsimilar movement started by the Council of Trent in Catholic countries.\n\nThe theory of poetry during the second stage of English criticism was in\nthe main Horatian, with such additions and modifications as the early\nRenaissance had derived from the Middle Ages. The Aristotelian canons\nhad not yet become a part of English criticism. Webbe alludes to\nAristotle's dictum that Empedocles, having naught but metre in common\nwith Homer, was in reality a natural philosopher rather than a\npoet;[457] but all such allusions to Aristotle's _Poetics_ were merely\nincidental and sporadic. The introduction of Aristotelianism into\nEngland was the direct result of the influence of the Italian critics;\nand the agent in bringing this new influence into English letters was\nSir Philip Sidney. His _Defence of Poesy_ is a veritable epitome of the\nliterary criticism of the Italian Renaissance; and so thoroughly is it\nimbued with this spirit, that no other work, Italian, French, or\nEnglish, can be said to give so complete and so noble a conception of\nthe temper and the principles of Renaissance criticism. For the general\ntheory of poetry, its sources were the critical treatises of\nMinturno[458] and Scaliger.[459] Yet without any decided novelty of\nideas, or even of expression, it can lay claim to distinct originality\nin its unity of feeling, its ideal and noble temper, and its adaptation\nto circumstance. Its eloquence and dignity will hardly appear in a mere\nanalysis, which pretends to give only the more important and fundamental\nof its principles; but such a summary--and this is quite as\nimportant--will at least indicate the extent of its indebtedness to\nItalian criticism.\n\nIn all that relates to the antiquity, universality, and preeminence of\npoetry, Sidney apparently follows Minturno. Poetry, as the first\nlight-giver to ignorance, flourished before any other art or science.\nThe first philosophers and historians were poets; and such supreme works\nas the _Psalms_ of David and the _Dialogues_ of Plato are in reality\npoetical. Among the Greeks and the Romans, the poet was regarded as a\nsage or prophet; and no nation, however primitive or barbarous, has been\nwithout poets, or has failed to receive delight and instruction from\npoetry.[460]\n\nBut before proceeding to defend an art so ancient and universal, it is\nnecessary to define it; and the definition which Sidney gives agrees\nsubstantially with what might be designated Renaissance Aristotelianism.\n\"Poetry,\" says Sidney,[461] \"is an art of imitation, for so Aristotle\ntermeth it in his word [Greek: mimesis], that is to say, a representing,\ncounterfeiting, or figuring forth; to speak metaphorically, a speaking\npicture,[462] with this end,--to teach and delight.\"[463] Poetry is,\naccordingly, an art of imitation, and not merely the art of versifying;\nfor although most poets have seen fit to apparel their poetic inventions\nin verse, verse is but the raiment and ornament of poetry, and not one\nof its causes or essentials.[464] \"One may be a poet without versing,\"\nsays Sidney, \"and a versifier without poetry.\"[465] Speech and reason\nare the distinguishing features between man and brute; and whatever\nhelps to perfect and polish speech deserves high commendation. Besides\nits mnemonic value, verse is the most fitting raiment of poetry because\nit is most dignified and compact, not colloquial and slipshod. But with\nall its merits, it is not an essential of poetry, of which the true test\nis this,--feigning notable images of vices and virtues, and teaching\ndelightfully.\n\nIn regard to the object, or function, of poetry, Sidney is at one with\nScaliger. The aim of poetry is accomplished by teaching most\ndelightfully a notable morality; or, in a word, by delightful\ninstruction.[466] Not instruction alone, or delight alone, as Horace\nhad said, but instruction made delightful; and it is this dual function\nwhich serves not only as the end but as the very test of poetry. The\nobject of all arts and sciences is to lift human life to the highest\naltitudes of perfection; and in this respect they are all servants of\nthe sovereign, or architectonic, science, whose end is well-doing and\nnot well-knowing only.[467] Virtuous action is therefore the end of all\nlearning;[468] and Sidney sets out to prove that the poet, more than any\none else, conduces to this end.\n\nThis is the beginning of the apologetic side of Sidney's argument. The\nancient controversy--ancient even in Plato's days--between poetry and\nphilosophy is once more reopened; and the question is the one so often\ndebated by the Italians,--shall the palm be given to the poet, to the\nphilosopher, or to the historian? The gist of Sidney's argument is that\nwhile the philosopher teaches by precept alone, and the historian by\nexample alone, the poet conduces most to virtue because he employs both\nprecept and example. The philosopher teaches virtue by showing what\nvirtue is and what vice is, by setting down, in thorny argument, and\nwithout clarity or beauty of style, the bare rule.[469] The historian\nteaches virtue by showing the experience of past ages; but, being tied\ndown to what actually happened, that is, to the particular truth of\nthings and not to general reason, the example he depicts draws no\nnecessary consequence. The poet alone accomplishes this dual task. What\nthe philosopher says should be done is by the poet pictured most\nperfectly in some one by whom it has been done, thus coupling the\ngeneral notion with the particular instance. The philosopher, moreover,\nteaches the learned only; the poet teaches all, and is, in Plutarch's\nphrase, \"the right popular philosopher,\"[470] for he seems only to\npromise delight, and moves men to virtue unawares. But even if the\nphilosopher excel the poet in teaching, he cannot move his readers as\nthe poet can, and this is of higher importance than teaching; for what\nis the use of teaching virtue if the pupil is not moved to act and\naccomplish what he is taught?[471] On the other hand, the historian\ndeals with particular instances, with vices and virtues so commingled\nthat the reader can find no pattern to imitate. The poet makes history\nreasonable; he gives perfect examples of vices and virtues for human\nimitation; he makes virtue succeed and vice fail, as history can but\nseldom do. Poetry, therefore, conduces to virtue, the end of all\nlearning, better than any other art or science, and so deserves the palm\nas the highest and the noblest form of human wisdom.[472]\n\nThe basis of Sidney's distinction between the poet and the historian is\nthe famous passage in which Aristotle explains why poetry is more\nphilosophic and of more serious value than history.[473] The poet deals,\nnot with the particular, but with the universal,--with what might or\nshould be, not with what is or has been. But Sidney, in the assertion of\nthis principle, follows Minturno[474] and Scaliger,[475] and goes\nfarther than Aristotle would probably have gone. All arts have the works\nof nature as their principal object, and follow nature as actors follow\nthe lines of their play. Only the poet is not tied to such subjects, but\ncreates another nature better than ever nature itself brought forth.\nFor, going hand in hand with nature, and being enclosed not within her\nlimits, but only by the zodiac of his own imagination, he creates a\ngolden world for nature's brazen; and in this sense he may be compared\nas a creator with God.[476] Where shall you find in life such a friend\nas Pylades, such a hero as Orlando, such an excellent man as AEneas?\n\nSidney then proceeds to answer the various objections that have been\nmade against poetry. These objections, partly following Gosson and\nCornelius Agrippa,[477] and partly his own inclinations, he reduces to\nfour.[478] In the first place, it is objected that a man might spend his\ntime more profitably than by reading the figments of poets. But since\nteaching virtue is the real aim of all learning, and since poetry has\nbeen shown to accomplish this better than all other arts or sciences,\nthis objection is easily answered. In the second place, poetry has been\ncalled the mother of lies; but Sidney shows that it is less likely to\nmisstate facts than other sciences, for the poet does not publish his\nfigments as facts, and, since he affirms nothing, cannot ever be said to\nlie.[479] Thirdly, poetry has been called the nurse of abuse, that is to\nsay, poetry misuses and debases the mind of man by turning it to\nwantonness and by making it unmartial and effeminate. But Sidney argues\nthat it is man's wit that abuses poetry, and not poetry that abuses\nman's wit; and as to making men effeminate, this charge applies to all\nother sciences more than to poetry, which in its description of battles\nand praise of valiant men notably stirs courage and enthusiasm. Lastly,\nit is pointed out by the enemies of poetry that Plato, one of the\ngreatest of philosophers, banished poets from his ideal commonwealth.\nBut Plato's _Dialogues_ are in reality themselves a form of poetry; and\nit argues ingratitude in the most poetical of philosophers, that he\nshould defile the fountain which was his source.[480] Yet though Sidney\nperceives how fundamental are Plato's objections to poetry, he is\ninclined to believe that it was rather against the abuse of poetry by\nthe contemporary Greek poets that Plato was chiefly cavilling; for poets\nare praised in the _Ion_, and the greatest men of every age have been\npatrons and lovers of poetry.\n\nIn the dozen years or so which elapsed between the composition and the\npublication of the _Defence of Poesy_, during which time it seems to\nhave circulated in manuscript, a number of critical works appeared, and\nthe indebtedness of several of them to Sidney's book is considerable.\nThis is especially so of the _Apologie of Poetrie_ which Sir John\nHarington prefixed to his translation of the _Orlando Furioso_ in 1591.\nThis brief treatise includes an apology for poetry in general, for the\n_Orlando Furioso_ in particular, and also for his own translation. The\nfirst section, which alone concerns us here, is almost entirely based on\nthe _Defence of Poesy_. The distinguishing features of poetry are\nimitation, or fiction, and verse.[481] Harington disclaims all intention\nof discussing whether writers of fiction and dialogue in prose, such as\nPlato and Xenophon, are poets or not, or whether Lucan, though writing\nin verse, is to be regarded as an historiographer rather than as a\npoet;[482] so that his argument is confined to the element of imitation,\nor fiction. He treats poetry rather as a propaedeutic to theology and\nmoral philosophy than as one of the fine arts. All human learning may be\nregarded by the orthodox Christian as vain and superfluous; but poetry\nis one of the most effective aids to the higher learning of God's\ndivinity, and poets themselves are really popular philosophers and\npopular divines. Harington then takes up, one by one, the four specific\ncharges of Cornelius Agrippa, that poetry is a nurse of lies, a pleaser\nof fools, a breeder of dangerous errors, and an enticer to wantonness;\nand answers them after the manner of Sidney. He differs from Sidney,\nhowever, in laying particular stress on the allegorical interpretation\nof imaginative literature. This element is minimized in the _Defence of\nPoesy_; but Harington accepts, and discusses in detail, the mediaeval\nconception of the three meanings of poetry, the literal, the moral, and\nthe allegorical.[483] The death-knell of this mode of interpreting\nliterature was sounded by Bacon, who, while not asserting that all the\nfables of poets are but meaningless fictions, declared without\nhesitation that the fable had been more often written first and the\nexposition devised afterward, than the moral first conceived and the\nfable merely framed to give expression to it.[484]\n\nThis passage occurs in the second book of the _Advancement of Learning_\n(1605), where Bacon has briefly stated his theory of poetry. His point\nof view does not differ essentially from that of Sidney, though the\nexpression is more compact and logical. The human understanding,\naccording to Bacon, includes the three faculties of memory, imagination,\nand reason, and each of these faculties finds typical expression in one\nof the three great branches of learning, memory in history, reason in\nphilosophy, and imagination in poetry.[485] The imagination, not being\ntied to the laws of matter, may join what nature has severed and sever\nwhat nature has joined; and poetry, therefore, while restrained in the\nmeasure of words, is in all things else extremely licensed. It may be\ndefined as feigned history, and in so far as its form is concerned, may\nbe either in prose or in verse. Its source is to be found in the\ndissatisfaction of the human mind with the actual world; and its purpose\nis to satisfy man's natural longing for more perfect greatness,\ngoodness, and variety than can be found in the nature of things. Poetry\ntherefore invents actions and incidents greater and more heroic than\nthose of nature, and hence conduces to magnanimity; it invents actions\nmore agreeable to the merits of virtue and vice, more just in\nretribution, more in accordance with revealed providence, and hence\nconduces to morality; it invents actions more varied and unexpected, and\nhence conduces to delectation. \"And therefore it was ever thought to\nhave some participation of divineness, because it doth raise the mind,\nby submitting the shows of things to the desires of the mind; whereas\nreason doth buckle and bow the mind unto the nature of things.\"[486] For\nthe expression of affections, passions, corruptions, and customs, the\nworld is more indebted to poets than to the works of philosophers, and\nfor wit and eloquence no less than to orators and their orations. It is\nfor these reasons that in rude times, when all other learning was\nexcluded, poetry alone found access and admiration.\n\nThis is pure idealism of a romantic type; but in his remarks on allegory\nBacon was foreshadowing the development of classicism, for from the time\nof Ben Jonson the allegorical mode of interpreting poetry ceased to\nhave any effect on literary criticism. The reason for this is obvious.\nThe allegorical critics regarded the plot, or fable,--to use a simile so\noften found in Renaissance criticism--as a mere sweet and pleasant\ncovering for the wholesome but bitter pill of moral doctrine. The\nneo-classicists, limiting the sense and application of Aristotle's\ndefinition of poetry as an imitation of life, regarded the fable as the\nmedium of this imitation, and the more perfect according as it became\nmore truly and more minutely an image of human life. In criticism,\ntherefore, the growth of classicism is more or less coextensive with the\ngrowth of the conception of the fable, or plot, as an end in itself.\n\nThis vaguely defines the change which comes over the spirit of criticism\nabout the beginning of the seventeenth century, and which is exemplified\nin the writings of Ben Jonson. His definition of poetry does not differ\nsubstantially from that of Sidney, but seems more directly\nAristotelian:--\n\n     \"A poet, _poeta_, is ... a maker, or feigner; his art, an art\n     of imitation or feigning; expressing the life of men in fit\n     measure, numbers, and harmony; according to Aristotle from the\n     word [Greek: poiein], which signifies to make or feign. Hence\n     he is called a poet, not he which writeth in measure only, but\n     that feigneth and formeth a fable, and writes things like the\n     truth; for the fable and fiction is, as it were, the form and\n     soul of any poetical work or poem.\"[487]\n\nPoetry and painting agree in that both are arts of imitation, both\naccommodate all they invent to the use and service of nature, and both\nhave as their common object profit and pleasure; but poetry is a higher\nform of art than painting, since it appeals to the understanding, while\npainting appeals primarily to the senses.[488] Jonson's conception of\nhis art is thus essentially noble; of all arts it ranks highest in\ndignity and ethical importance. It contains all that is best in\nphilosophy, divinity, and the science of politics, and leads and\npersuades men to virtue with a ravishing delight, while the others but\nthreaten and compel.[489] It therefore offers to mankind a certain rule\nand pattern of living well and happily in human society. This conception\nof poetry Jonson finds in Aristotle;[490] but it is to the Italians of\nthe Renaissance, and not to the Stagyrite, that these doctrines really\nbelong.\n\nJonson ascribes to the poet himself a dignity no less than that of his\ncraft. Mere excellence in style or versification does not make a poet,\nbut rather the exact knowledge of vices and virtues, with ability to\nmake the latter loved and the former hated;[491] and this is so far\ntrue, that to be a good poet it is necessary, first of all, to be a\nreally good man.[492] A similar doctrine has already been found in many\ncritical writers of the sixteenth century; but perhaps the noblest\nexpression of this conception of the poet's consecrated character and\noffice occurs in the original quarto edition of Jonson's _Every Man in\nhis Humour_, in which the \"reverend name\" of poet is thus exalted:--\n\n    \"I can refell opinion, and approve\n    The state of poesy, such as it is,\n    Blessed, eternal, and most true divine:\n    Indeed, if you will look on poesy,\n    As she appears in many, poor and lame,\n    Patched up in remnants and old worn-out rags,\n    Half-starved for want of her peculiar food,\n    Sacred invention; then I must confirm\n    Both your conceit and censure of her merit:\n    But view her in her glorious ornaments,\n    Attired in the majesty of art,\n    Set high in spirit with the precious taste\n    Of sweet philosophy; and, which is most,\n    Crowned with the rich traditions of a soul,\n    That hates to have her dignity prophaned\n    With any relish of an earthly thought,\n    Oh then how proud a presence doth she bear!\n    Then is she like herself, fit to be seen\n    Of none but grave and consecrated eyes.\"[493]\n\nMilton also gives expression to this consecrated conception of the poet.\nPoetry is a gift granted by God only to a few in every nation;[494] but\nhe who would partake of the gift of eloquence must first of all be\nvirtuous.[495] It is impossible for any one to write well of laudable\nthings without being himself a true poem, without having in himself the\nexperience and practice of all that is praiseworthy.[496] Poets are the\nchampions of liberty and the \"strenuous enemies of despotism\";[497] and\nthey have power to imbreed and cherish in a people the seeds of virtue\nand public civility, to set the affections in right tune, and to allay\nthe perturbations of the mind.[498] Poetry, which at its best is\n\"simple, sensuous, and passionate,\" describes everything that passes\nthrough the brain of man,--all that is holy and sublime in religion, all\nthat in virtue is amiable and grave. Thus by means of delight and the\nforce of example, those who would otherwise flee from virtue are taught\nto love her.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[445] Haslewood, ii. 103.\n\n[446] Haslewood, ii. 28.\n\n[447] _Ibid._ ii. 42.\n\n[448] Haslewood, ii. 128.\n\n[449] _Hist. Litt. de la France_, xxix. 502-525.\n\n[450] Puttenham, p. 19 _sq._\n\n[451] _Ibid._ p. 39.\n\n[452] Gosson, p. 34.\n\n[453] _Ibid._ p. 65.\n\n[454] _Ibid._ pp. 25, 40.\n\n[455] Lodge, _Defence_ (_Shakespeare Soc. Publ._), p. 6.\n\n[456] Arber, _Transcript of the Stat. Reg._, iii. 154.\n\n[457] Haslewood, ii. 28.\n\n[458] Sidney's acquaintance with Minturno is proved beyond doubt, even\nwere such proof necessary, by the list of poets (_Defence_, pp. 2, 3)\nwhich he has copied from Minturno's _De Poeta_, pp. 14, 15.\n\n[459] Scaliger's _Poetics_ is specifically mentioned and cited by Sidney\nfour or five times; but these citations are far from exhausting his\nindebtedness to Scaliger.\n\n[460] _Defence_, p. 2 _sq._; _cf._ Minturno, _De Poeta_, pp. 9, 13.\n\n[461] _Defence_, p. 9.\n\n[462] This ancient phrase had become, as has been seen, a commonplace\nduring the Renaissance. _Cf._, _e.g._, Dolce, _Osservationi_, 1560, p.\n189; Vauquelin, _Art Poet._ i. 226; Camoens, _Lusiad._ vii. 76.\n\n[463] Sidney's classification of poets, _Defence_, p. 9, is borrowed\nfrom Scaliger, _Poet._ i. 3.\n\n[464] _Defence_, p. 11. _Cf._ Castelvetro, _Poetica_, pp. 23, 190.\n\n[465] _Defence_, p. 33. _Cf._ Ronsard, _Oeuvres_, iii. 19, vii. 310; and\nShelley, _Defence of Poetry_, p. 9: \"The distinction between poets and\nprose writers is a vulgar error.\"\n\n[466] _Defence_, pp. 47, 51. _Cf._ Scaliger, _Poet._ i. 1, and vii. i.\n2: \"Poetae finem esse, docere cum delectatione.\"\n\n[467] Aristotle, _Ethics_, i. 1; Cicero, _De Offic._ i. 7.\n\n[468] This was the usual attitude of the humanists; _cf._ Woodward, p.\n182 _sq._\n\n[469] _Cf._ Daniello, p. 19; Minturno, _De Poeta_, p. 39.\n\n[470] _Defence_, p. 18.\n\n[471] _Ibid._ p. 22. _Cf._ Minturno, _De Poeta_, p. 106; Varchi,\n_Lezzioni_, p. 576.\n\n[472] That is, the highest form of _human_ wisdom, for Sidney, as a\nChristian philosopher, naturally leaves revealed religion out of the\ndiscussion.\n\n[473] _Poet._ ix. 1-4.\n\n[474] _De Poeta_, p. 87 _sq._\n\n[475] _Poet._ i. 1.\n\n[476] _Defence_, pp. 7, 8.\n\n[477] _De Van. et Incert. Scient._ cap. v.\n\n[478] _Defence_, p. 34 _sq._\n\n[479] _Cf._ Boccaccio, _Gen. degli Dei_, p. 257 _sq._; and Haslewood,\nii. 127.\n\n[480] _Defence_, pp. 3, 41; _cf._ Daniello, p. 22.\n\n[481] Haslewood, ii. 129.\n\n[482] _Ibid._ ii. 123.\n\n[483] Haslewood, ii. 127.\n\n[484] Bacon, _Works_, vi. 204-206.\n\n[485] _Cf._ _Anglia_, 1899, xxi. 273.\n\n[486] _Works_, vi. 203.\n\n[487] _Discoveries_, p. 73. Jonson's distinction between poet (_poeta_),\npoem (_poema_), and poesy (_poesis_), was derived from Scaliger or\nMaggi.\n\n[488] _Discoveries_, p. 49.\n\n[489] _Ibid._ p. 34.\n\n[490] _Ibid._ p. 74.\n\n[491] _Ibid._ p. 34.\n\n[492] _Works_, i. 333.\n\n[493] _Works_, i. 59, _n._\n\n[494] Milton, _Prose Works_, ii. 479.\n\n[495] _Ibid._ iii. 100.\n\n[496] _Ibid._ iii. 118.\n\n[497] _Prose Works_, i. 241.\n\n[498] _Ibid._ ii. 479.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nTHE THEORY OF DRAMATIC AND HEROIC POETRY\n\n\nDRAMATIC criticism in England began with Sir Philip Sidney. Casual\nreferences to the drama can be found in critical writings anterior to\nthe _Defence of Poesy_; but to Sidney belongs the credit of having first\nformulated, in a more or less systematic manner, the general principles\nof dramatic art. These principles, it need hardly be said, are those\nwhich, for half a century or more, had been undergoing discussion and\nmodification in Italy and France, and of which the ultimate source was\nthe _Poetics_ of Aristotle. Dramatic criticism in England was thus, from\nits very birth, both Aristotelian and classical, and it remained so for\ntwo centuries. The beginnings of the Elizabethan drama were almost\ncontemporary with the composition of the _Defence of Poesy_, and the\ndecay of the drama with Jonson's _Discoveries_. Yet throughout this\nperiod the romantic drama never received literary exposition. The great\nSpanish drama had its critical champions and defenders, the Elizabethan\ndrama had none. It was, perhaps, found to be a simpler task to echo the\ndoctrines of others, than to formulate the principles of a novel\ndramatic form. But the true explanation has already been suggested. The\nsources of the dramatic criticism were the writings of the Italian\ncritics, and these were entirely classical. In creative literature,\nhowever, the Italian Renaissance influenced the Elizabethans almost\nentirely on the romantic side. This, perhaps, suffices to explain the\nlack of fundamental coordination between dramatic theory and dramatic\npractice during the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Ascham,\nwriting twenty years before Sidney, indicated \"Aristotle's precepts and\nEuripides' example\" as the criteria of dramatic art;[499] and in spirit\nthese remained the final tests throughout the Elizabethan age.\n\n\nI. _Tragedy_\n\nIn Webbe's _Discourse of English Poetrie_ we find those general\ndistinctions between tragedy and comedy which had been common throughout\nthe Middle Ages from the days of the post-classic grammarians. Tragedies\nexpress sorrowful and lamentable histories, dealing with gods and\ngoddesses, kings and queens, and men of high estate, and representing\nmiserable calamities, which become worse and worse until they end in the\nmost woful plight that can be devised. Comedies, on the other hand,\nbegin doubtfully, become troubled for a while, but always, by some lucky\nchance, end with the joy and appeasement of all concerned.[500] This\ndistinction is said to be derived from imitation of the _Iliad_ and the\n_Odyssey_; and in this, as well in his fanciful account of the origins\nof the drama, Webbe seems to have had a vague recollection of Aristotle.\nPuttenham's account of dramatic development is scarcely more\nAristotelian;[501] yet in its general conclusions it agrees with those\nin the _Poetics_. His conception of tragedy and comedy is similar to\nWebbe's. Comedy expresses the common behavior and manner of life of\nprivate persons, and such as are of the meaner sort of men.[502] Tragedy\ndeals with the doleful falls of unfortunate and afflicted princes, for\nthe purpose of reminding men of the mutability of fortune, and of God's\njust punishment of a vicious life.[503]\n\nThe Senecan drama and the Aristotelian precepts were the sources of\nSidney's theory of tragedy. The oratorical and sententious tragedies of\nSeneca had influenced dramatic theory and practice throughout Europe\nfrom the very outset of the Renaissance. Ascham, indeed, preferred\nSophocles and Euripides to Seneca, and cited Pigna, the rival of Giraldi\nCintio, in confirmation of his opinion;[504] but this, while an\nindication of Ascham's own good taste, is an exceptional verdict, and in\ndirect opposition to the usual opinion of contemporary critics. Sidney,\nin his account of the English drama, could find but one tragedy modelled\nas it should be on the Senecan drama.[505] The tragedy of _Gorboduc_,\nhowever, has one defect that provokes Sidney's censure,--it does not\nobserve the unities of time and place. In all other respects, it is an\nideal model for English playwrights to imitate. Its stately speeches and\nwell-sounding phrases approach almost to the height of Seneca's style;\nand in teaching most delightfully a notable morality, it attains the\nvery end of poetry.\n\nThe ideal tragedy--and in this Sidney closely follows the Italians--is\nan imitation of a noble action, in the representation of which it stirs\n\"admiration and commiseration,\"[506] and teaches the uncertainty of the\nworld and the weak foundations upon which golden roofs are built. It\nmakes kings fear to be tyrants, and tyrants manifest their tyrannical\nhumors. Sidney's censure of the contemporary drama is that it outrages\nthe grave and weighty character of tragedy, its elevated style, and the\ndignity of the personages represented, by mingling kings and clowns, and\nintroducing the most inappropriate buffoonery. There are, indeed, one or\ntwo examples of tragi-comedy in ancient literature, such as Plautus's\n_Amphitryon_;[507] but never do the ancients, like the English, match\nhornpipes and funerals.[508] The English dramas are neither true\ncomedies nor true tragedies, and disregard both the rules of poetry and\nhonest civility. Tragedy is not tied to the laws of history, and may\narrange and modify events as it pleases; but it is certainly bound by\nthe rules of poetry. It is evident, therefore, that the _Defence of\nPoesy_, as a French writer has observed, \"gives us an almost complete\ntheory of neo-classic tragedy, a hundred years before the _Art Poetique_\nof Boileau: the severe separation of poetic forms, the sustained dignity\nof language, the unities, the _tirade_, the _recit_, nothing is\nlacking.\"[509]\n\nBen Jonson pays more attention to the theory of comedy than to that of\ntragedy; but his conception of the latter does not differ from Sidney's.\nThe parts, or divisions, of comedy and tragedy are the same, and both\nhave on the whole a common end, to teach and delight; so that comic as\nwell as tragic poets were called by the Greeks [Greek: didaskaloi].[510]\nThe external conditions of the drama require that it should have the\nequal division into acts and scenes, the true number of actors, the\nchorus, and the unities.[511] But Jonson does not insist on the strict\nobservance of these formal requirements, for the history of the drama\nshows that each successive poet of importance has gradually and\nmaterially altered the dramatic structure, and there is no reason why\nthe modern poet may not do likewise. Moreover, while these requirements\nmay have been regularly observed in the ancient state and splendor of\ndramatic poetry, it is impossible to retain them now and preserve any\nmeasure of popular delight. The outward forms of the ancients,\ntherefore, may in part be disregarded; but there are certain essentials\nwhich must be observed by the tragic poet in whatsoever age he may\nflourish. These are, \"Truth of argument, dignity of persons, gravity\nand height of elocution, fulness and frequency of sentence.\"[512] In\nother words, Jonson's model is the oratorical and sententious tragedy of\nSeneca, with its historical plots and its persons of high estate.\n\nIn the address, \"Of that Sort of Dramatic Poem which is called Tragedy,\"\nprefixed to _Samson Agonistes_, Milton has minutely adhered to the\nItalian theory of tragedy. After referring to the ancient dignity and\nmoral effect of tragedy,[513] Milton acknowledges that, in the modelling\nof his poem, he has followed the ancients and the Italians as of\ngreatest authority in such matters. He has avoided the introduction of\ntrivial and vulgar persons and the intermingling of comic and tragic\nelements; he has used the chorus, and has observed the laws of\nverisimilitude and decorum. His explanation of the peculiar effect of\ntragedy--the purgation of pity and fear--has already been referred to in\nthe first section of this essay.[514]\n\n\nII. _Comedy_\n\nThe Elizabethan theory of comedy was based on the body of rules and\nobservations which the Italian critics, aided by a few hints from\nAristotle, had deduced from the practice of Plautus and Terence. It\nwill, therefore, be unnecessary to dwell at any great length on the\ndoctrines of Sidney and Ben Jonson, who are the main comic theorists of\nthis period. Sidney defines comedy as \"an imitation of the common errors\nof our life,\" which are represented in the most ridiculous and scornful\nmanner, so that the spectator is anxious to avoid such errors himself.\nComedy, therefore, shows the \"filthiness of evil,\" but only in \"our\nprivate and domestical matters.\"[515] It should aim at being wholly\ndelightful, just as tragedy should be maintained by a well-raised\nadmiration. Delight is thus the first requirement of comedy; but the\nEnglish comic writers err in thinking that delight cannot be obtained\nwithout laughter, whereas laughter is neither an essential cause nor an\nessential effect of delight. Sidney then distinguishes delight from\nlaughter almost exactly after the manner of Trissino.[516] The great\nfault of English comedy is that it stirs laughter concerning things that\nare sinful, _i.e._ execrable rather than merely ridiculous--forbidden\nplainly, according to Sidney, by Aristotle himself--and concerning\nthings that are miserable, and rather to be pitied than scorned. Comedy\nshould not only produce delightful laughter, but mixed with it that\ndelightful teaching which is the end of all poetry.\n\nBen Jonson, like Sidney, makes human follies or errors the themes of\ncomedy, which should be\n\n                    \"an image of the times,\n    And sport with human follies, not with crimes,\n    Except we make them such, by loving still\n    Our popular errors, when we know they're ill;\n    I mean such errors as you'll all confess\n    By laughing at them, they deserve no less.\"[517]\n\nIn depicting these human follies, it is the office of the comic poet to\nimitate justice, to improve the moral life and purify language, and to\nstir up gentle affections.[518] The moving of mere laughter is not\nalways the end of comedy; in fact, Jonson interprets Aristotle as\nasserting that the moving of laughter is a fault in comedy, a kind of\nturpitude that depraves a part of man's nature.[519] This conclusion is\nbased on an interpretation of Aristotle which has persisted almost to\nthe present day. In the _Poetics_, [Greek: to geloion], the ludicrous,\nis said to be the subject of comedy;[520] and many critics have thought\nthat Aristotle intended by this to distinguish between the risible and\nthe ridiculous, between mere laughter and laughter mixed with contempt\nor disapprobation.[521] The nature and the source of one of the most\nimportant elements in Jonson's theory of comedy, his doctrine of\n\"humours,\" have been briefly discussed in the first section of this\nessay. It will suffice here to define a \"humour\" as an absorbing\nsingularity of character,[522] and to note that it grew out of the\nconception of _decorum_ which played so important a part in poetic\ntheory during the Italian Renaissance.\n\n\nIII. _The Dramatic Unities_\n\nBefore leaving the theory of the drama, there is one further point to be\ndiscussed,--the doctrine of the unities. It has been seen that the\nunities of time and place were, in Italy, first formulated together by\nCastelvetro in 1570, and in France by Jean de la Taille in 1572. The\nfirst mention of the unities in England is to be found, a dozen years\nlater, in the _Defence of Poesy_, and it cannot be doubted that Sidney\nderived them directly from Castelvetro. Sidney, in discussing the\ntragedy of _Gorboduc_, finds it \"faulty in time and place, the two\nnecessary companions of all corporal actions; for where the stage should\nalways represent but one place, and the uttermost time presupposed in it\nshould be, both by Aristotle's precept and common reason, but one day,\nthere [_i.e._ in _Gorboduc_] is both many days and many places\ninartificially imagined.\"[523] He also objects to the confusions of the\nEnglish stage, where on one side Africa and on the other Asia may be\nrepresented, and where in an hour a youth may grow from boyhood to old\nage.[524] How absurd this is, common sense, art, and ancient examples\nought to teach the English playwright; and at this day, says Sidney,\nthe ordinary players in Italy will not err in it. If indeed it be\nobjected that one or two of the comedies of Plautus and Terence do not\nobserve the unity of time, let us not follow them when they err but when\nthey are right; it is no excuse for us to do wrong because Plautus on\none occasion has done likewise.\n\nThe law of the unities does not receive such rigid application in\nEngland as is given by Sidney until the introduction of the French\ninfluence nearly three quarters of a century later. Ben Jonson is\nconsiderably less stringent in this respect than Sidney. He lays\nparticular stress on the unity of action, and in the _Discoveries_\nexplains at length the Aristotelian conception of the unity and\nmagnitude of the fable. \"The fable is called the imitation of one entire\nand perfect action, whose parts are so joined and knit together, as\nnothing in the structure can be changed, or taken away, without\nimpairing or troubling the whole, of which there is a proportionable\nmagnitude in the members.\"[525] Simplicity, then, should be one of the\nchief characteristics of the action, and nothing receives so much of\nJonson's censure as \"monstrous and forced action.\"[526] As to the unity\nof time, Jonson says that the action should be allowed to grow until\nnecessity demands a conclusion; the argument, however, should not exceed\nthe compass of one day, but should be large enough to allow place for\ndigressions and episodes, which are to the fable what furniture is to a\nhouse.[527] Jonson does not formally require the observance of the\nunity of place, and even acknowledges having disregarded it in his own\nplays; but he does not favor much change of scene on the stage. In the\nprologue of _Volpone_, he boasts that he has followed all the laws of\nrefined comedy,\n\n    \"As best critics have designed;\n    The laws of time, place, persons he observeth,\n    From no needful rule he swerveth.\"\n\nMilton observes the unity of time in the _Samson Agonistes_: \"The\ncircumscription of time, wherein the whole drama begins and ends is,\naccording to ancient rule and best example, within the space of\ntwenty-four hours.\"\n\nWith the introduction of the French influence, the unities became fixed\nrequirements of the English drama, and remained so for over a century.\nSir Robert Howard, in the preface of his tragedy, _The Duke of Lerma_,\nimpugned their force and authority; but Dryden, in answering him,\npointed out that to attack the unities is really to contend against\nAristotle, Horace, Ben Jonson, and Corneille.[528] Farquhar, however, in\nhis _Discourse upon Comedy_ (1702), argued with force and wit against\nthe unities of time and place, and scoffed at all the legislators of\nParnassus, ancient and modern,--Aristotle, Horace, Scaliger, Vossius,\nHeinsius, D'Aubignac, and Rapin.\n\n\nIV. _Epic Poetry_\n\nThe Elizabethan theory of heroic poetry may be dismissed briefly. Webbe\nrefers to the epic as \"that princely part of poetry, wherein are\ndisplayed the noble acts and valiant exploits of puissant captains,\nexpert soldiers, wise men, with the famous reports of ancient\ntimes;\"[529] and Puttenham defines heroic poems as \"long histories of\nthe noble gests of kings and great princes, intermeddling the dealings\nof gods, demi-gods, and heroes, and weighty consequences of peace and\nwar.\"[530] The importance of this form of poetry, according to\nPuttenham, is largely historical, in that it sets forth an example of\nthe valor and virtue of our forefathers.[531] Sidney is scarcely more\nexplicit.[532] He asserts that heroic poetry is the best and noblest of\nall forms; he shows that such characters as Achilles, AEneas, and Rinaldo\nare shining examples for all men's imitation; but of the nature or\nstructure of the epic he says nothing.\n\nThe second part of Harington's _Apologie of Poetrie_ is given up to a\ndefence of the _Orlando Furioso_, and here the Aristotelian theory of\nthe epic appears for the first time in English criticism. Harington,\ntaking the _AEneid_ as the approved model of all heroic poetry, first\nshows that Ariosto has followed closely in Virgil's footsteps, but is to\nbe preferred even to Virgil in that the latter pays reverence to false\ndeities, while Ariosto has the advantage of the Christian spirit. But\nsince some critics, \"reducing all heroical poems unto the method of\nHomer and certain precepts of Aristotle,\" insist that Ariosto is wanting\nin art, Harington sets out to prove that the _Orlando Furioso_ may not\nonly be defended by the example of Homer, but that it has even followed\nvery strictly the rules and precepts of Aristotle.[533] In the first\nplace, Aristotle says that the epic should be based on some historical\naction, only a short part of which, in point of time, should be treated\nby the poet; so Ariosto takes the story of Charlemagne, and does not\nexceed a year or so in the compass of the argument.[534] Secondly,\nAristotle holds that nothing that is utterly incredible should be\ninvented by the poet; and nothing in the _Orlando_ exceeds the\npossibility of belief. Thirdly, epics, as well as tragedies, should be\nfull of [Greek: peripeteia], which Harington interprets to mean \"an\nagnition of some unlooked for fortune either good or bad, and a sudden\nchange thereof\"; and of this, as well as of apt similitudes and passions\nwell expressed, the _Orlando_ is really full.\n\nIn conclusion, it may be observed that epic poetry did not receive\nadequate critical treatment in England until after the introduction of\nthe French influence. The rules and theories of the Italian Renaissance,\nrestated in the writings of Le Bossu, Mambrun, Rapin, and Vossius, were\nthus brought into English criticism, and found perhaps their best\nexpression in Addison's essays on _Paradise Lost_. Such epics as\nDavenant's _Gondibert_, Chamberlayne's _Pharonnida_, Dryden's _Annus\nMirabilis_, and Blackmore's _Prince Arthur_, like the French epics of\nthe same period, doubtless owed their inspiration to the desire to put\ninto practice the classical rules of heroic poetry.[535]\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[499] _Scholemaster_, p. 139.\n\n[500] Haslewood, ii. 40.\n\n[501] Puttenham, p. 47 _sq._\n\n[502] _Ibid._ p. 41.\n\n[503] _Ibid._ p. 49.\n\n[504] Ascham, _Works_, ii. 189.\n\n[505] _Defence_, p. 47 _sq._\n\n[506] _Defence_, p. 28. This is the Elizabethan equivalent for\nAristotle's _katharsis_ of \"pity and terror.\"\n\n[507] _Cf._ Scaliger, _Poet._ i. 7.\n\n[508] _Defence_, p. 50.\n\n[509] Breitinger, p. 37.\n\n[510] _Discoveries_, p. 81.\n\n[511] _Works_, i. 69.\n\n[512] _Works_, i. 272.\n\n[513] _Cf._ Bacon, _De Augm. Scient._ iii. 13; and Ascham,\n_Scholemaster_, p. 130.\n\n[514] He seems also to allude to the theory of _katharsis_ in the\n_Reason of Church Government_; _Prose Works_, ii. 479.\n\n[515] _Defence_, p. 28.\n\n[516] _Ibid._ p. 50 _sq._ _Cf._ Trissino, _Opere_, ii. 127 _sq._; and\nCicero, _De Orat._ ii. 58 _sq._\n\n[517] _Works_, i. 2.\n\n[518] _Ibid._ i. 335.\n\n[519] _Discoveries_, p. 82.\n\n[520] _Poet._ v. 1.\n\n[521] _Cf._ Twining, i. 320 _sq._, and Kames, _Elements of Criticism_,\nvol. i. chap. 7.\n\n[522] _Cf._ Jonson, _Works_, i. 67 and 31.\n\n[523] _Defence_, p. 48; _cf._ Castelvetro, _Poetica_, pp. 168, 534.\n\n[524] _Cf._ Whetstone, _Promos and Cassandra_ (1578), cited in Ward,\n_Dram. Lit._ i. 118; also, Jonson, _Works_, i. 2, 70; Cervantes, _Don\nQuix._ i. 48; Boileau, _Art Poet._ iii. 39. In the theory of the drama,\nSidney's point of view coincides very closely with that of Cervantes.\n\n[525] _Discoveries_, p. 83.\n\n[526] _Works_, i. 337.\n\n[527] _Discoveries_, p. 85.\n\n[528] _Essay of Dram. Poesy_, p. 118.\n\n[529] Haslewood, ii. 45.\n\n[530] Puttenham, p. 40.\n\n[531] _Ibid._ p. 54.\n\n[532] _Defence_, p. 30.\n\n[533] Haslewood, ii. 140 _sq._\n\n[534] _Cf._ Minturno, _Arte Poetica_, p. 71; and Ronsard, _Oeuvres_,\niii. 19.\n\n[535] _Cf._ Dryden, _Discourse on Satire_, in _Works_, xiii. 37.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nCLASSICAL ELEMENTS IN ELIZABETHAN CRITICISM\n\n\nI. _Introductory: Romantic Elements_\n\nIT were no less than supererogation to adduce evidences of the romantic\nspirit of the age of Shakespeare. No period in English literature is\nmore distinctly romantic; and although in England criticism is less\naffected by creative literature, and has had less effect upon it, than\nin France, it is only natural to suppose that Elizabethan criticism\nshould be as distinctly romantic as the works of imagination of which it\nis presumably an exposition. As early as Wilson's _Rhetoric_ we find\nevidences of that independence of spirit in questions of art which seems\ntypical of the Elizabethan age; and none of the writers of this period\nexhibits anything like the predisposition of the French mind to submit\ninstinctively to any rule, or set of rules, which bears the stamp of\nauthority. From the outset the element of nationality colors English\ncriticism, and this is especially noticeable in the linguistic\ndiscussions of the age. At the very time when Sidney was writing the\n_Defence of Poesy_, Spenser's old teacher, Mulcaster, wrote: \"I love\nRome, but London better; I favor Italy, but England more; I honor the\nLatin, but I worship the English.\"[536] It is this spirit which pervades\nwhat may be called the chief expression of the romantic temper in\nElizabethan criticism,--Daniel's _Defence of Rhyme_ (1603), written in\nanswer to Campion's attack on rhyme in the _Observations in the Art of\nEnglish Poesy_. The central argument of Daniel's defence is that the use\nof rhyme is sanctioned both by custom and by nature--\"custom that is\nbefore all law, nature that is above all art.\"[537] He rebels against\nthat conception which would limit\n\n    \"Within a little plot of Grecian ground\n    The sole of mortal things that can avail;\"\n\nand he shows that each age has its own perfections and its own usages.\nThis attempt at historical criticism leads him into a defence of the\nMiddle Ages; and he does not hesitate to assert that even classical\nverse had its imperfections and deficiencies. In the minutiae of metrical\ncriticism, also, he is in opposition to the neo-classic tendencies of\nthe next age; and his favorable opinion of _enjambement_ and his\nunfavorable comments on the heroic couplet[538] drew from Ben Jonson an\nanswer, never published, in which the latter attempted to prove that the\ncouplet is the best form of English verse, and that all other forms are\nforced and detestable.[539]\n\n\nII. _Classical Metres_\n\nDaniel's _Defence of Rhyme_ may be said to have dealt a death-blow to a\nmovement which for over half a century had been a subject of controversy\namong English men of letters. In reading the critical works of this\nperiod, it is impossible not to notice the remarkable amount of\nattention paid by the Elizabethans to the question of classical metres\nin the vernacular. The first organized attempt to introduce the\nclassical versification into a modern language was, as Daniel himself\npoints out,[540] that of Claudio Tolomei in 1539. The movement then\npassed into France; and classical metres were adopted by Baif in\npractice, and defended by Jacques de la Taille in theory. In England the\nfirst recorded attempt at the use of quantity in the vernacular was that\nof Thomas Watson, from whose unpublished translation of the _Odyssey_ in\nthe metre of the original Ascham has cited a single distich:--\n\n    \"All travellers do gladly report great prayse of Ulysses,\n    For that he knew many mens maners, and saw many cities.\"[541]\n\nThis was probably written between 1540 and 1550; toward the close of the\npreceding century, we are told, a certain Mousset had already translated\nthe _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ into French hexameters.\n\nAscham was the first critical champion of the use of quantity in English\nverse.[542] Rhyme, he says, was introduced by the Goths and Huns at a\ntime when poetry and learning had ceased to exist in Europe; and\nEnglishmen must choose either to imitate these barbarians or to follow\nthe perfect Grecians. He acknowledges that the monosyllabic character of\nthe English language renders the use of the dactyl very difficult, for\nthe hexameter \"doth rather trot and hobble than run smoothly in our\nEnglish tongue;\" but he argues that English will receive the _carmen\niambicum_ as naturally as Greek or Latin. He praises Surrey's blank\nverse rendering of the fourth book of the _AEneid_, but regrets that, in\ndisregarding quantity, it falls short of the \"perfect and true\nversifying.\" An attempt to put Ascham's theories into practice was made\nby Thomas Blenerhasset in 1577; but the verse of his _Complaynt of\nCadwallader_, though purporting to be \"a new kind of poetry,\" is merely\nan unrhymed Alexandrine.[543]\n\nIn 1580, however, five letters which had passed between Spenser and\nGabriel Harvey appeared in print as _Three proper, and wittie, familiar\nLetters_ and _Two other very commendable Letters_; and from this\ncorrespondence we learn that an organized movement to introduce\nclassical metres into English had been started. It would seem that for\nseveral years Harvey had been advocating the use of quantitative verse\nto several of his friends; but the organized movement to which reference\nhas just been made seems to have been started independently by Thomas\nDrant, who died in 1578. Drant had devised a set of rules and precepts\nfor English classical verse; and these rules, with certain additions and\nmodifications, were adopted by a coterie of scholars and courtiers,\namong them being Sidney, Dyer, Greville, and Spenser, who thereupon\nformed a society, the Areopagus,[544] independent of Harvey, but\ncorresponding with him regularly. This society appears to have been\nmodelled on Baif's Academie de Poesie et de Musique, which had been\nfounded in 1570 for a similar purpose, and which Sidney doubtless became\nacquainted with when at Paris in 1572.\n\nFrom the correspondence published in 1580, it becomes evident that\nHarvey's and Drant's systems of versification were almost antipodal.\nAccording to Drant's system, the quantity of English words was to be\nregulated entirely by the laws of Latin prosody,--by position,\ndiphthong, and the like. Thus, for example, the penult of the word\n_carpenter_ was regarded as long by Drant because followed by two\nconsonants. Harvey, who was unacquainted with Drant's rules before\napprised of them by Spenser in the published letters, follows a more\nnormal and logical system. To him, accent alone is the best of quantity,\nand the law of position cannot make the penult of _carpenter_ or\n_majesty_ long. \"The Latin is no rule for us,\" says Harvey;[545] and\noften where position and diphthong fall together, as in the penult of\n_merchaundise_, we must pronounce the syllable short. In all such\nmatters, the use, custom, propriety, or majesty of our speech must be\naccounted the only infallible and sovereign rule of rules.\n\nIt was not, then, Harvey's purpose to Latinize our tongue. His intention\nwas apparently twofold,--to abolish rhyme, and to introduce new metres\ninto English poetry. Only a few years before, Gascoigne had lamented\nthat English verse had only one form of metre, the iambic.[546] Harvey,\nin observing merely the English accent, can scarcely be said to have\nintroduced quantity into our verse, but was simply adapting new metres,\nsuch as dactyls, trochees, and spondees, to the requirements of English\npoetry.\n\nDrant's and Harvey's rules therefore constitute two opposing systems.\nAccording to the former, English verse is to be regulated by Latin\nprosody regardless of accent; according to the latter, by accent\nregardless of Latin prosody. By neither system can quantity be\nsuccessfully attempted in English; and a distinguished classical scholar\nof our own day has indicated what is perhaps the only method by which\nthis can be accomplished.[547] This method may be described as the\nharmonious observance of both accent and position; all accented\nsyllables being generally accounted long, and no syllable which violates\nthe Latin law of position being used when a short syllable is required\nby the scansion. These three systems, with more or less variation, have\nbeen employed throughout English literature. Drant's system is followed\nin the quantitative verse of Sidney and Spenser; Harvey's method is that\nemployed by Longfellow in _Evangeline_; and Tennyson's beautiful\nclassical experiments are practical illustrations of the method of\nProfessor Robinson Ellis.\n\nIn 1582, Richard Stanyhurst published at Leyden a translation of the\nfirst four books of the _AEneid_ into English hexameters. From Ascham he\nseems to have derived his inspiration, and from Harvey his metrical\nsystem. Like Harvey he refuses to be bound by the laws of Latin\nprosody,[548] and follows the English accent as much as possible. But in\none respect his translation is unique. Harvey, in his correspondence\nwith Spenser, had suggested that the use of quantitative verse in\nEnglish necessitated the adoption of a certain uniformity in spelling;\nand the curious orthography of Stanyhurst was apparently intended as a\nserious attempt at phonetic reform. Spelling reform had been agitated in\nFrance for some time; and in Baif's _Etrennes de Poesie francoise_\n(1574), we find French quantitative verse written according to the\nphonetic system of Ramus.\n\nWebbe's _Discourse of English Poetrie_ is really a plea in favor of\nquantitative verse. His system is based primarily on Latin prosody, but\nreconciled with English usage. The Latin rules are to be followed when\nthe English and Latin words agree; but no word is to be used that\nnotoriously impugns the laws of Latin prosody, and the spelling of\nEnglish words should, when possible, be altered to conform to the\nancient rules. The difficulty of observing the law of position in the\nmiddle of English words may be obviated by change in spelling, as in the\nword _mournfully_, which should be spelled _mournfuly_; but where\nthis is impossible, the law of position is to be observed, despite the\nEnglish accent, as in _royalty_. Unlike Ascham, Webbe regards the\nhexameter as the easiest of all classical metres to use in English.[549]\n\nPuttenham is not averse to the use of classical metres, but as a\nconservative he considers all sudden innovations dangerous.[550] The\nsystem he adopts is not unlike Harvey's. Sidney's original enthusiasm\nfor quantitative verse soon abated; and in the _Defence of Poesy_ he\npoints out that although the ancient versification is better suited to\nmusical accompaniment than the modern, both systems cause delight, and\nare therefore equally effective and valuable; and English is more fitted\nthan any other language to use both.[551] Campion, like Ascham, regards\nEnglish polysyllables as too heavy to be used as dactyls; so that only\ntrochaic and iambic verse can be suitably employed in English\npoetry.[552] He suggests eight new forms of verse. The English accent is\nto be diligently observed, and is to yield to nothing save the law of\nposition; hence the second syllable of _Trumpington_ is to be\naccounted long.[553] In observing the law of position, however, the\nsound, and not the spelling, is to be the test of quantity; thus,\n_love-sick_ is pronounced _love-sik_, _dangerous_ is pronounced\n_dangerus_, and the like.[554]\n\n\nIII. _Other Evidences of Classicism_\n\nWith Campion's _Observations_ (1602) the history of classical metres in\nEngland may be said to close, until the resuscitation of quantitative\nverse in the present century. Daniel's _Defence of Rhyme_ effectually\nput an end to this innovation; but the strong hold which the movement\nseems to have had during the Elizabethan age is interesting evidence of\nthe classical tendencies of the period. Ben Jonson has usually been\nregarded as the forerunner of neo-classicism in England; but long before\nhis influence was felt, classical tendencies may be observed in English\ncriticism. Thus Ascham's conservatism and aversion to singularity in\nmatters of art are distinctly classical. \"He that can neither like\nAristotle in logic and philosophy, nor Tully in rhetoric and eloquence,\"\nsays Ascham, \"will from these steps likely enough presume by like pride\nto mount higher to the misliking of graver matters; that is, either in\nreligion to have a dissentious head, or in the commonwealth to have a\nfactious heart.\"[555] His insistence that it is no slavery to be bound\nby the laws of art, and the stress he lays on perfection of style, are\nno less classical.[556]\n\nSimilar tendencies may be observed in the writers that follow Ascham.\nHarvey's strictures on the _Faerie Queene_ were inspired by two\ninfluences. As a humanist, he looked back with contempt on mediaeval\nliterature in general, its superstitions, its fairy lore, and the like.\nAs a classicist in art, he preferred the regular, or classic, form of\nthe epic to the romantic, or irregular form; and his strictures may be\ncompared in this respect with those of Bembo on the _Orlando_ or those\nof Salviati on the _Gerusalemme_. So Harington attempts to make the\n_Orlando_ chime with the laws of Aristotle, and Sidney attempts to force\nthese laws on the English drama. So also Sidney declares that genius,\nwithout \"art, imitation, and exercise,\" is as nothing, and censures his\ncontemporaries for neglecting \"artificial rules and imitative\npatterns.\"[557] So Webbe attempts to find a fixed standard or criterion\nby which to judge good and bad poets, and translates Fabricius's summary\nof the rules of Horace as a guide for English poetry.[558]\n\nEnglish criticism, therefore, may be said to exhibit classical\ntendencies from its very beginning. But it is none the less true that\nbefore Ben Jonson there was no systematic attempt to force, as it were,\nthe classic ideal on English literature. In Spain, as has been seen,\nJuan de la Cueva declared that poetry should be classical and imitative,\nwhile the drama should be romantic and original. Sidney, on the\ncontrary, sought to make the drama classical, while allowing freedom of\nimagination and originality of form to the non-dramatic poet. Ben\nJonson was the first complete and consistent English classicist; and his\nclassicism differs from that of the succeeding age rather in degree than\nin kind.\n\nBacon's assertion that poetry is restrained in the measure of words, but\nin all other points extremely licensed,[559] is characteristic of the\nElizabethan point of view. The early critics allowed extreme license in\nthe choice and treatment of material, while insisting on strict\nregularity of expression. Thus Sidney may advocate the use of classical\nmetres, but this does not prevent him from celebrating the freedom of\ngenius and the soaring heights of the imagination. There is nothing of\nthese things in Ben Jonson. He, too, celebrates the nobility and power\nof poetry, and the dignity of the poet's office; but nowhere does he\nspeak of the freedom of the imagination or the force of genius.\nLiterature for him was not an expression of personality, not a creation\nof the imagination, but an image of life, a picture of the world. In\nother words, he effected what may be called an objectification of the\nliterary ideal.\n\nIn the second place, this image of life can be created only by conscious\neffort on the part of the artist. For the creation of great poetry,\ngenius, exercise, imitation, and study are all necessary, but to these\nart must be added to make them perfect, for only art can lead to\nperfection.[560] It is this insistence on art as a distinct element,\nalmost as an end in itself, that distinguishes Jonson from his\npredecessors; and nowhere is his ideal of art expressed as pithily as in\nthe address to the reader prefixed to the _Alchemist_ (1612):--\n\n     \"In Poetry, especially in Plays, ... the concupiscence of\n     dances and of antics so reigneth, as to run away from nature,\n     and be afraid of her, is the only point of art that tickles the\n     spectators. But how out of purpose, and place, do I name art?\n     When the professors are grown so obstinate contemners of it,\n     and presumers on their own naturals, as they are deriders of\n     all diligence that way, and, by simple mocking at the terms,\n     when they understand not the things, think to get off wittily\n     with their ignorance. Nay, they are esteemed the more learned,\n     and sufficient for this, by the many, through their excellent\n     vice of judgment. For they commend writers as they do fencers\n     or wrestlers; who, if they come in robustiously, and put for it\n     with a great deal of violence, are received for the braver\n     fellows; when many times their own rudeness is the cause of\n     their disgrace, and a little touch of their adversary gives all\n     that boisterous force the foil. I deny not but that these men,\n     who always seek to do more than enough, may some time happen on\n     some thing that is good and great; but very seldom; and when it\n     comes it doth not recompense the rest of their ill.... But I\n     give thee warning, that there is a great difference between\n     those that, to gain the opinion of copy [_i.e._ copiousness],\n     utter all they can, however unfitly; and those that use\n     election and a mean[561] [_i.e._ selection and moderation]. For\n     it is only the disease of the unskilful to think rude things\n     greater than polished; or scattered more numerous than\n     composed.\"[562]\n\nLiterature, then, aims at presenting an image of life through the medium\nof art; and the guide to art, according to Jonson, is to be found in\nthe rules of criticism. Thus, for example, success in comedy is to be\nattained\n\n    \"By observation of those comic laws\n    Which I, your master, first did teach the age;\"[563]\n\nand elsewhere, it will be remembered, Jonson boasts that he had swerved\nfrom no \"needful law.\" But though art can find a never-failing guide and\nmonitor in the rules of criticism, he does not believe in mere servile\nadherence to the practice or theory of classical literature. The\nancients are to be regarded as guides, not commanders.[564] In short,\nthe English mind was not yet prepared to accept the neo-classic ideal in\nall its consequences; and absolute subservience to ancient authority\ncame only with the introduction of the French influence.\n\nThis is, perhaps, best indicated by the history of Aristotle's influence\nin English criticism from Ascham to Milton. The first reference to the\n_Poetics_ in England is to be found in Ascham's _Scholemaster_.[565]\nThere we are told that Ascham, Cheke, and Watson had many pleasant talks\ntogether at Cambridge, comparing the poetic precepts of Aristotle and\nHorace with the examples of Euripides, Sophocles, and Seneca. In\nSidney's _Defence of Poesy_, Aristotle is cited several times; and in\nthe drama, his authority is regarded by Sidney as almost on a par with\nthat of the \"common reason.\"[566] Harington was not satisfied until he\nhad proved that the _Orlando_ agrees substantially with Aristotle's\nrequirements. Jonson wrote a commentary on Horace's _Ars Poetica_, with\nelucidations from Aristotle, in which\n\n    \"All the old Venusine [_i.e._ Horace], in poetry,\n    And lighted by the Stagyrite [_i.e._ Aristotle], could spy,\n    Was there made English;\"[567]\n\nbut the manuscript was unfortunately destroyed by fire in 1623. Yet\nJonson was aware how ridiculous it is to make any author a\ndictator.[568] His admiration for Aristotle was great; but he\nacknowledges that the Aristotelian rules are useless without natural\ntalent, and that a poet's liberty cannot be bound within the narrow\nlimits prescribed by grammarians and philosophers.[569] At the same\ntime, he points out that Aristotle was the first critic, and the first\nof all men to teach the poet how to write. The Aristotelian authority is\nnot to be contemned, since Aristotle did not invent his rules, but,\ntaking the best things from nature and the poets, converted them into a\ncomplete and consistent code of art. Milton, also, had a sincere\nadmiration for \"that sublime art which [is taught] in Aristotle's\n_Poetics_, in Horace, and the Italian commentaries of Castelvetro,\nTasso, Mazzoni, and others.\"[570] But despite all this, the English\nindependence of spirit never failed; and before the French influence we\ncan find no such thing in English criticism as the literary\ndictatorship of Aristotle.[571]\n\nTo conclude, then, it would seem that by the middle of the sixteenth\ncentury there had grown up in Italy an almost complete body of poetic\nrules and theories. This critical system passed into France, England,\nSpain, Germany, Portugal, and Holland; so that by the beginning of the\nseventeenth century there was a common body of Renaissance doctrine\nthroughout western Europe. Each country, however, gave this system a\nnational cast of its own; but the form which it received in France\nultimately triumphed, and modern classicism therefore represents the\nsupremacy of the French phase, or version, of Renaissance\nAristotelianism. A number of modern writers, among them Lessing and\nShelley, have returned more or less to the original Italian form. This\nis represented, in Elizabethan criticism, by Sidney; Ben Jonson\nrepresents a transitional phase, and Dryden and Pope the final form of\nFrench classicism.\n\nFOOT-NOTES:\n\n[536] Morley, _English Writers_, ix. 187.\n\n[537] Haslewood, ii. 197.\n\n[538] _Ibid._ ii. 217.\n\n[539] Jonson, _Works_, iii. 470. _Cf._ Gascoigne's comments on\n_enjambement_, in Haslewood, ii. 11.\n\n[540] Haslewood, ii. 205.\n\n[541] _Scholemaster_, p. 73.\n\n[542] _Ibid._ p. 145 _sq._\n\n[543] _Cf._ Haslewood, ii. p. xxii. The treatises of Gascoigne (1575)\nand King James VI. (1584) contain no reference to quantitative verse.\n\n[544] _Cf._ Pulci, _Morgante Maggiore_, xxv. 117.\n\n[545] Haslewood, ii. 280.\n\n[546] Haslewood, ii. 5.\n\n[547] R. Ellis, _Poems and Fragments of Catullus translated in the\noriginal metres_, London, 1871, p. xiv. _sq._\n\n[548] Stanyhurst, p. 11 _sq._\n\n[549] Haslewood, ii. 69.\n\n[550] Puttenham, p. 126 _sq._\n\n[551] _Defence_, p. 55.\n\n[552] Haslewood, ii. 167.\n\n[553] Haslewood, ii. 186.\n\n[554] _Cf._ Ellis, _op. cit._, p. xvi.\n\n[555] _Scholemaster_, p. 93.\n\n[556] _Ibid._ pp. 118, 121.\n\n[557] _Defence_, p. 46.\n\n[558] Haslewood, ii. 19, 85 _sq._\n\n[559] _Works_, vi. 202.\n\n[560] _Discoveries_, p. 78.\n\n[561] _Cf._ Scaliger, _Poet._ v. 3, where the highest virtue of a poet\nis said to be _electio et sui fastidium_; and vi. 4, where it is said\nthat the \"life of all excellence lies in measure.\"\n\n[562] _Works_, ii. 3; _cf._ _Discoveries_, pp. 22-27.\n\n[563] _Works_, iii. 297.\n\n[564] _Discoveries_, p. 7.\n\n[565] _Scholemaster_, p. 139.\n\n[566] _Defence_, p. 48.\n\n[567] _Works_, iii. 321; _cf._ i. 335, iii. 487.\n\n[568] _Discoveries_, p. 66.\n\n[569] _Ibid._ p. 78 _sq._\n\n[570] _Works_, iii. 473.\n\n[571] The chapter on poetry in Peacham's _Compleat Gentleman_ (1622) is\ninteresting chiefly because of its indebtedness to Scaliger, who is\ncalled by Peacham (p. 91) \"the prince of all learning and the judge of\njudgments, the divine Julius Caesar Scaliger.\" This constitutes him a\nliterary arbiter if not dictator. In the _Great Assises holden in\nParnassus_ (1645), Scaliger is proclaimed one of the lords of Parnassus,\nin company with Bacon, Sidney, Erasmus, Budaeus, Heinsius, Vossius,\nCasaubon, Mascardo, Pico della Mirandola, Selden, Grotius, and others.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDICES\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX A\n\n\nCHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE CHIEF CRITICAL WORKS OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY\n\n =======================================================================\n DATE |ITALY              |DATE  |FRANCE          |DATE     |ENGLAND\n -----+-------------------+------+----------------+---------+-----------\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1527 | Vida: _De Arte    |      |                | c. 1524 | Cox:\n      | Poetica_.         |      |                |         | _Rhetoric_.\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1529 | Trissino:         |      |                |         |\n      | _Poetica_,        |      |                |         |\n      | pts. i.-iv.       |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1535 | Dolce:            |      |                |         |\n      | trans. of         |      |                |         |\n      | Horace's          |      |                |         |\n      | _Ars Poetica_.    |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1536 | Pazzi: transl.    |      |                |         |\n      | of Aristotle's    |      |                |         |\n      | _Poetics_.        |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1536 | Daniello:         |      |                |         |\n      | _Poetica_.        |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1539 | Tolomei:          | 1545 | Pelletier:     |         |\n      | _Versi e Regole   |      | trans. of      |         |\n      | della Nuova       |      | Horace's _Ars  |         |\n      | Poesia_.          |      | Poetica_.      |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1548 | Robortelli:       | 1548 | Sibilet: _Art  |         |\n      | ed. of            |      | Poetique_.     |         |\n      | Aristotle's       |      |                |         |\n      | _Poetics_.        |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1549 | Segni: transl.    | 1549 | Du Bellay:     |         |\n      | of Aristotle's    |      | _Defense et    |         |\n      | _Poetics_.        |      | Illustration_. |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1550 | Maggi: ed. of     |      |                |  1553   | Wilson:\n      | Aristotle's       |      |                |         | _Rhetoric_.\n      | _Poetics_.        |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1551 | Muzio: _Arte      |      |                |         |\n      | Poetica_.         |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1554 | Giraldi           | 1554 | Pelletier:     |         |\n      | Cintio:           |      | _Art           |         |\n      | _Discorsi_.       |      | Poetique_.     |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1559 | Minturno: _De     | 1555 | Morel: ed. of  |         |\n      | Poeta_.           |      | Aristotle's    |         |\n      |                   |      | _Poetics_.     |         |\n 1560 | Vettori: ed.      |      |                |  1567   | Drant:\n      | of Aristotle's    | 1560 | Pasquier:      |         | transl. of\n      | _Poetics_.        |      | _Recherches_.  |         | Horace's\n      |                   |      |                |         | _Ars Poetica_.\n 1561 | Scaliger:         | 1561 | [Scaliger:     |  1570   | Ascham:\n      | _Poetics_.        |      | _Poetics_.]    |         | _Scholemaster_.\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1563 | Trissino:         |      |                |  1575   | Gascoigne:\n      | _Poetica_,        |      |                |         | _Notes of\n      | pts. v., vi.      |      |                |         | Instruction_.\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1564 | Minturno:         |      |                |         |\n      | _Arte             |      |                |         |\n      | Poetica_.         |      |                |  1579   | Gosson:\n      |                   |      |                |         | _School\n 1570 | Castelvetro:      | 1565 | Ronsard:       |         | of Abuse_.\n      | ed. of            |      | _Abrege        |         |\n      | Aristotle's       |      | de l'Art       |  1579   | Lodge:\n      | _Poetics_.        |      | Poetique_.     |         | _Reply to\n      |                   |      |                |         | Gosson_.\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1575 | Piccolomini:      | 1572 | Jean de la     |  1580   | Harvey and\n      | ed. of            |      | Taille:        |         | Spenser:\n      | Aristotle's       |      | preface of     |         | _Letters_.\n      | _Poetics_.        |      | _Saul_.        |         |\n      |                   |      |                | c. 1583 | Sidney:\n 1579 | Viperano:         | 1572 | Ronsard:       |         | _Defence\n      | _De Arte          |      | preface of     |         | of Poesy_\n      | Poetica_.         |      | _Franciade_.   |         | (publ. 1595).\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1586 | Patrizzi:         |      |                |  1585   | James VI.:\n      | _Della            |      |                |         | _Reulis and\n      | Poetica_.         |      |                |         | Cautelis_.\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1587 | T. Tasso:         | 1573 | Jacques de la  |         |\n      | _Discorsi         |      | Taille:        |  1586   | Webbe:\n      | dell'             |      | treatise       |         | _Discourse\n      | Arte Poetica_.    |      | on French      |         | of English\n      |                   |      | classical      |         | Poetrie_.\n 1588 | Denores:          |      | metres.        |         |\n      | _Poetica_.        |      |                |         |\n      |                   |      |                |         |\n 1597 | Buonamici:        | 1598 | De Laudun:     |  1589   | Puttenham:\n      | _Discorsi         |      | _Art           |         | _Arte of\n      | Poetici_.         |      | Poetique       |         | English\n      |                   |      | francois_.     |         | Poesie_.\n 1598 | Ingegneri:        |      |                |         |\n      | _Poesia           |  --  | Vauquelin:     |         |\n      | Rappresentativa_. |      | _Art           |  1591   | Harington:\n      |                   |      | Poetique_.     |         | _Apologie\n 1600 | Summo: _Discorsi  |      |                |         | of\n      | Poetici_.         |      |                |         | Poetrie_.\n =======================================================================\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX B\n\nSALVIATI'S ACCOUNT OF THE COMMENTATORS ON ARISTOTLE'S \"POETICS.\"\n\n\nTHE following is Lionardo Salviati's account of the commentators on\nAristotle's _Poetics_ up to 1586. The passage is cited from an\nunpublished Ms. at Florence (Cod. Magliabech. ii. ii. II.), beginning at\nfol. 371. The title of the Ms. is _Parafrasi e Commento della Poetica\nd'Aristotile_; and at fol. 370 it is dated January 28, 1586.\n\n\nDELLI INTERPRETI DI QUESTO LIBRO DELLA POETICA\n\n[Sidenote: =Averroes.=] Averroe primo di tutti quelli interpreti della\nPoetica che a nostri tempi sono pervenuti, fece intorno a esso una breve\nParafrasi, nella quale come che pure alcune buone considerationi si\nritrovino, tutta via per la diversita e lontananza de costumi, che tra\ngreco havea, e tra gli arabi poca notizia havendone, pochissima ne pote\ndare altrui. [Sidenote: =Valla.=] Appresso hebbe voglia Giorgio Valla di\ntradur questo libro in latino, ma o che la copia del testo greco lo\ningannasse, o che verso di se fusse l'opera malagevole per ogni guisa\nmassimamente in quei tempi, egli di quella impresa picciola lode si\nguadagno. [Sidenote: =Pazzi.=] Il che considerando poi Alessandro de\nPazzi, huomo delle lingue intendente, et ingegnoso molto, alla medesima\ncura si diede, et ci lascio la latina traduzzione, che in tutti i\nlatini comenti fuorch'in quello del Vettorio si leggie. E per cio che\ndotto huomo era, et hebbe copia di ottimi testi scritti a penna, diede\nnon poca luce a questa opera, e piu anche fatto havrebbe se da la morte\nstato non fusse sopravenuto. [Sidenote: =Robortelli.=] Ma Francesco\nRubertello a tempi nostri, nelli studj delle lingue esercitatissimo,\nconoscendo che di maggior aviso li faceva mestieri, non solamente purgo\nil testo di molte macchie che accecato il tenevano, ma il primo fu\nancora, che con distese dichiarationi, et con innumerabili esempli di\npoeti greci e latini, fece opera di illustrarlo. [Sidenote: =Segni.=]\nVulgarizzollo appresso Bernardo Segni in questo nostro Idioma, et con\nalcune sue brevi annotationi lo diede in luce. E nella tradutione per\nalcune proprie voci et ai greci vocaboli ottimamente corrisposero, non\nse n' usci anche egli senza commendazione. Ma con molto maggior grido et\napplauso, il comento del [Sidenote: =Maggi.=] Maggio, chiarissimo\nfilosopho, fu dal mondo ricevuto; percioche havendo egli con somma\ngloria nella continua lettura della Philosophia i suoi anni trapassati,\ncon l' ordine principalmente giovo a questo libro, e col mostrarne la\ncontinuatione et in non pochi luoghi soccorse il Rubertello. E se si\nfusse alquanto meno ardente contro di lui dimonstrato, ne cosi vago\nstato fusse di contrapporseli, sarebbe alcuna volta per avventura uscito\nfuor piu libero il parer suo, e piu saldo. [Sidenote: =Vettori.=] A lato\na quel del Maggio fu la latina traduzione et comento di Pier Vettori\npubblicato, il quale essendo oltre ad ogni altro, delle antiche\nscritture diligentissimo osservatore, e nella cognitione delle lingue\nhavendosi si come io stimo a tempi nostri, il primo luogo guadagnato,\nhauta commodita, et in gran numero di preziosi et antichi esemplarj\nscritti a mano, in ogni parte, ma nella correzzione del testo\nspetialmente e nella traduzione, ha fatto si che poco piu avanti pare\nche di lume a questo libro possa desiderarsi. [Sidenote:\n=Castelvetro.=] Pur non di manco a questi anni di nuovo, da un dotto\nhuomo in questa lingua volgarizzato et esposto, et piu a lungo che alcun\naltro che cio habbia fin qui adoprato ancor mai. Questo sara da me per\ntutto ovunque mi convenga nominarlo, il comento vulgare appellato, e per\npiu brevita con quelle due prime lettere C. V. in questa guisa lo\nnotero. Nel qual comento hanno senza alcun fallo di sottilissimi\navvedimenti, ma potrebb' essere, si come io credo, piu sincero. Percio\nche io stimo, che dove egli dal vero si diparte, il faccia per\nemulazione per lo piu per dimostrarsi di sottil sentimento e per non\ndire come li altri. E la costui tradutione, fuorche in alcune parti dove\negli secondo che io avviso volontariamente erra, tra le toscane la\nmigliore. E sono le sue parole et in essa e nell' espositione molto\npure, et in puro volgare fiorentino, quanto comporta la materia l'una e\nl'altra e dettata. Ultimamente la traduzzione, e con essa l'annotazione\ndi [Sidenote: =Piccolomini.=] Mgr. Alessandro Piccolomini sono uscite in\nstampa, il quale havendosi con molte altre sue opere d' astrologia e di\nfilosofia e di rettorica parte composte, parte volgarizzate, non picciol\nnome e molta riputazione acquistata, creder si puo altrettanto doverli\ndella presente faticha avvenire. Dietro a si chiari interpreti non per\nemulatione, la quale tra me e si fatti huomini [Sidenote: =Salviati.=]\nnon potrebbe haver luogo, ma per vaghezza che io pure havrei di dover\nancor io, se io potessi a questa impresa, alcun aiuto arrecare dopo lo\nstudio di dieci anni che io ci ho spesi, scendo, quantunque timido, in\nquesto campo, piu con accesa volonta, che con speranza, o vigore\ndesideroso che avanti che venirmi gloria per false opinioni, sieno i\nmiei difetti discretamente da savio giudice gastigati.\n\n\n\n\nBIBLIOGRAPHY\n\n\nTHIS bibliography includes a list of the principal books and editions\nused in the preparation of the essay, and should be consulted for the\nfull titles of works cited in the text and in the foot-notes.\n\n\nI. SOURCES\n\n     Ascham, R. _The Scholemaster_, edited by E. Arber. London,\n     1870.\n\n     ---- _The Whole Works_, edited by Rev. Dr. Giles. 3 vols. in 4\n     parts. London, 1864.\n\n     Aubignac, Abbe d'. _La Pratique du Theatre_. 2 vols. Amsterdam,\n     1715.\n\n     Bacon, F. _Works_, edited by J. Spedding, R. L. Ellis, and D.\n     D. Heath. 15 vols. Boston, 1863.\n\n     Batteux, C. _Les Quatres Poetiques d'Aristote, d'Horace, de\n     Vida, de Despreaux_. Paris, 1771.\n\n     Berni, F. _Rime, Poesie Latine, e Lettere_, per cura di P.\n     Virgili. Firenze, 1885.\n\n     Boccaccio, G. _Geneologia degli Dei_, trad. per G. Betussi.\n     Vinegia, 1547.\n\n     ---- _Vita di Dante_, per cura di F. Macri-Leone. Firenze,\n     1888.\n\n     Bruno, G. _Opere_, raccolte da A. Wagner. 2 vols. Lipsia, 1830.\n\n     Butcher, S. H. _Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and Fine Art, with\n     a Critical Text and a Translation of the Poetics_. London,\n     1895.\n\n     Carducci, G. _La Poesia Barbara nei Secoli XV e XVI_. Bologna,\n     1881.\n\n     Caro, A. _Apologia degli Academici di Bianchi di Roma contra M.\n     Lodovico Castelvetro_. Parma, 1558.\n\n     Castelvetro, L. _Poetica d' Aristotele vulgarizzata et sposta_.\n     Basilea, 1576.\n\n     ---- _Opere Varie Critiche_, colla vita dell' autore scritta da\n     L. A. Muratori. Milano, 1727.\n\n     Cook, A. S. _The Art of Poetry: The Poetical Treatises of\n     Horace, Vida, and Boileau, with the translations by Howes,\n     Pitt, and Soame_. Boston, 1892.\n\n     Dacier, A. _La Poetique traduite en Francois, avec des\n     Remarques_. Paris, 1692.\n\n     Daniello, B. _La Poetica_. Vinegia, 1536.\n\n     Dante Alighieri. _Tutte le Opere_, per cura di E. Moore.\n     Oxford, 1894.\n\n     Denores, J. _Discorso intorno a que' Principii che la Comedia,\n     la Tragedia, et il Poema Heroico ricevono dalla Philosophia_.\n     Padova, 1587.\n\n     ---- _In Epistolam Q. Horatij Flacci de Arte Poetica, ex\n     quotidianis Tryphonis Gabrielij Sermonibus Interpretatio_.\n     Venetiis, 1553.\n\n     ---- _Poetica, nel qual si tratta secondo l' opinion d' Arist.\n     della Tragedia, del Poema Heroico, & della Comedia_. Padova,\n     1588.\n\n     Donatus, A. _Ars Poetica_. Bononiae, 1659.\n\n     Dryden, J. _An Essay of Dramatic Poesy_, edited by T. Arnold.\n     Oxford, 1889.\n\n     Du Bellay, J. _Oeuvres Choisies_, publiees par L. Becq de\n     Fouquieres. Paris, 1876.\n\n     Fracastoro, G. _Opera_. 2 vols. Genevae, 1621.\n\n     Giraldi Cintio, G. B. _Scritti Estetici: De' Romanzi, delle\n     Comedie, e delle Tragedie, ecc._ (Daelli's _Biblioteca Rara_,\n     lii., liii.) 2 vols. Milano, 1864.\n\n     Gosson, S. _The Schoole of Abuse_, edited by E. Arber. London,\n     1868.\n\n     Haslewood, J. _Ancient Critical Essays upon English Poets and\n     Poesy_. 2 vols. London, 1811-1815.\n\n     Ingegneri, A. _Della Poesia Rappresentativa_. Firenze, 1734.\n\n     Jonson, B. _Timber, or Discoveries made upon Men and Matter_,\n     edited by F. E. Schelling. Boston, 1892.\n\n     ---- Works, with Notes and Memoir by W. Gifford, edited by F.\n     Cunningham. 3 vols. London, n. d.\n\n     Klette, T. _Beitraege zur Geschichte und Litteratur der\n     Italienischen Gelehrtenrenaissance_. 3 parts. Greifswald,\n     1888-1890.\n\n     Le Bossu, R. _Treatise of the Epic Poem_, made English by W. J.\n     Second edition. 2 vols. London, 1719.\n\n     Lionardi, A. _Dialogi della Inventione Poetica_. Venetia, 1554.\n\n     Luisino, F. _In Librum Q. Horatii Flacci de Arte Poetica\n     Commentarius_. Venetiis, 1554.\n\n     Maggi, V., and Lombardi, B. _In Aristotelis Librum de Poetica\n     Explanationes_. Venetijs, 1560.\n\n     Milton, J. _Prose Works_, edited by J. A. St. John. (Bohn's\n     Library.) 5 vols. London, 1848.\n\n     Minturno, A. S. _L' Arte Poetica_. Venetia, 1564.\n\n     ---- _De Poeta Libri Sex_. Venetiis, 1559.\n\n     Muzio, G. _Rime Diverse: Tre Libri di Arte Poetica, Tre Libri\n     di Lettere in rime sciolti, ecc._ Vinegia, 1551.\n\n     Partenio, B. _Della Imitatione Poetica_. Vinegia, 1560.\n\n     Patrizzi, F. _Della Poetica: La Deca Istoriale, La Deca\n     Disputata_. Ferrara, 1586.\n\n     Petrarca, F. _Opera quae extant Omnia_. Basileae, 1554.\n\n     Piccolomini, A. _Annotationi nel Libro della Poetica d'\n     Aristotele_. Vinegia, 1575.\n\n     Pope, A. _Selecta Poemata Italorum, qui Latine Scripserunt_. 2\n     vols. Londini, 1740.\n\n     Puttenham, G. _The Arte of English Poesie_, edited by E. Arber.\n     London, 1869.\n\n     Rapin, R. _Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise of Poesie_\n     (transl.). London, 1674.\n\n     Robortelli, F. _In Librum Aristotelis de Arte Poetica\n     Explicationes_. Florentiae, 1548.\n\n     Ronsard, P. de. _Oeuvres Completes_, publiees par P.\n     Blanchemain. 8 vols. Paris, 1857-1867.\n\n     Salviati, L. _Parafrasi e Commento della Poetica di\n     Aristotile_, 370 folios, Cod. Magliabechiano, ii. ii. II. Ms.\n\n     ---- _Trattato della Poetica, Lettura Terza_, 22 folios, Cod.\n     Magliabechiano, vii. 7, 715. Ms.\n\n     Scaliger, J. C. _Poetices Libri Septem_. Editio Quinta. In\n     Bibliopolio Commeliano, 1617.\n\n     Segni, A. _Ragionamento sopra le Cose pertinenti alla Poetica_.\n     Fiorenza, 1581.\n\n     Segni, B. _Rettorica et Poetica d' Aristotele tradotte in\n     lingua vulgare Fiorentina_. Vinegia, 1551.\n\n     Sidney, Sir P. _The Defense of Poesy, otherwise known as An\n     Apology for Poetry_, edited by A. S. Cook. Boston, 1890.\n\n     Speroni, Sperone. _Opere_. 5 vols. Venezia, 1740.\n\n     Stanyhurst, R. _Translation of the First Four Books of the\n     AEneid of P. Virgilius Maro_, edited by E. Arber. London, 1880.\n\n     Summo, F. _Discorsi Poetici_. Padova, 1600.\n\n     Tasso, B. _Delle Lettere: aggiuntovi il Ragionamento della\n     Poesia_. 2 vols. Padova, 1733.\n\n     Tasso, T. _Opere, colle Controversie sulla Gerusalemme_, per\n     cura di G. Rosini. 33 vols. Pisa, 1821-1832.\n\n     Trissino, G. G. _Tutte le Opere_. 2 vols. Verona, 1729.\n\n     Twining, T. _Aristotle's Treatise on Poetry, translated with\n     Notes and two Dissertations on Poetical and Musical Imitation_.\n     Second edition. 2 vols. London, 1812.\n\n     Varchi, B. _Lezzioni, lette nell' Accademia Fiorentina_.\n     Fiorenza, 1590.\n\n     Vauquelin de la Fresnaye, J. _L'Art Poetique_, publie par G.\n     Pellissier. Paris, 1885.\n\n     Vettori, P. _Commentarii in primum Librum Aristotelis de Arte\n     Poetarum_. Florentiae, 1560.\n\n     Webbe, W. _A Discourse of English Poetrie_, edited by E. Arber.\n     London, 1871.\n\n     Woodward, W. H. _Vittorino da Feltre and other Humanist\n     Educators: Essays and Versions_. Cambridge, 1897.\n\n\nII. SECONDARY WORKS\n\n     Arnaud, C. _Etudes sur la Vie et les Oeuvres de l'Abbe\n     d'Aubignac, et sur les Theories Dramatiques au XVII^e Siecle_.\n     Paris, 1887.\n\n     Aronstein, P. \"Ben Jonson's Theorie des Lustspiels,\" in\n     _Anglia_ (1895), vol. xvii.\n\n     Baillet, A. _Jugemens des Savans sur les Principaux Ouvrages\n     des Auteurs_, revus par M. de la Monnoye. 8 vols. Amsterdam,\n     1725.\n\n     Borinski, K. _Die Poetik der Renaissance, und die Anfaenge der\n     litterarischen Kritik in Deutschland_. Berlin, 1886.\n\n     Bourgoin, A. _Les Maitres de la Critique au XVII^{eme} Siecle_.\n     Paris, 1889.\n\n     Breitinger, H. _Les Unites d'Aristote avant le Cid de\n     Corneille_. Deuxieme edition. Geneve et Bale, 1895.\n\n     Brunetiere, F. _L'Evolution des Genres dans l'Histoire de la\n     Litterature_. Deuxieme edition. Vol. i. Paris, 1892.\n\n     Brunot, F. _La Doctrine de Malherbe d'apres son Commentaire sur\n     Desportes_. Paris, 1891.\n\n     Canello, U. _Storia della Letteratura Italiana nel Secolo XVI_.\n     Milano, 1880.\n\n     Cecchi, P. L. _T. Tasso, il Pensiero e le Belle Lettere\n     Italiane nel Secolo XVI_. Firenze, 1877.\n\n     Cloetta, W. _Beitraege zur Litteraturgeschichte des Mittelalters\n     und der Renaissance_. 2 vols. Halle, 1890-1892.\n\n     Comparetti, D. _Vergil in the Middle Ages_, translated by E. F.\n     M. Benecke. London, 1895.\n\n     Crescimbeni, G. M. de. _Istoria della Volgar Poesia_. Roma,\n     1698.\n\n     De Sanctis, F. _Storia della Letteratura Italiana_. Sesta\n     edizione. 2 vols. Napoli, 1893.\n\n     Di Niscia, G. \"La Gerusalemme Conquistata e l' Arte Poetica di\n     Tasso,\" in _Il Propugnatore_ (1889), N.S. vol. ii. parts 1, 2.\n\n     Ebert, A. _Allgemeine Geschichte der Literatur des Mittelalters\n     im Abendlande_. 3 vols. Leipzig, 1874-1887.\n\n     Egger, E. _Essai sur l'Histoire de la Critique chez les Grecs_.\n     Deuxieme edition. Paris, 1886.\n\n     ---- _L'Hellenisme en France_. 2 vols. Paris, 1869.\n\n     Faguet, E. _La Tragedie francaise au XVI^e Siecle_. Paris, 1894.\n\n     Foffano, F. _Ricerche Letterarie_. Livorno, 1897.\n\n     Gaspary, A. _Geschichte der Italienischen Literatur_. 2 vols.\n     Strassburg, 1885-1888.\n\n     Hamelius, P. _Die Kritik in der Englischen Literatur des 17.\n     und 18. Jahrhunderts_. Leipzig, 1897.\n\n     Jacquinet, P. _Francisci Baconi de Re Litteraria Judicia_.\n     Parisiis, 1863.\n\n     Koerting, G. _Geschichte der Litteratur Italiens im Zeitalter\n     der Renaissance_. 3 vols. Leipzig, 1878-1884.\n\n     Krantz, E. _L'Esthetique de Descartes, etudiee dans les\n     Rapports de la Doctrine cartesienne avec la Litterature\n     classique francaise au XVII^e Siecle_. Paris, 1882.\n\n     Langlois, E. _De Artibus Rhetoricae Rhythmicae_. Parisiis, 1890.\n\n     Lintilhac, E. _De J.-C. Scaligeri Poetice_. Paris, 1887.\n\n     ---- \"Un Coup d'Etat dans la Republique des Lettres,\" in the\n     _Nouvelle Revue_ (1890), vol. lxiv.\n\n     Menendez y Pelayo, M. _Historia de las Ideas Esteticas en\n     Espana_. Segunda edicion. 9 vols. Madrid, 1890-1896.\n\n     Mueller, E. _Geschichte der Theorie der Kunst bei den Alten_. 2\n     vols. Breslau, 1834-1837.\n\n     Natali, G. _Torquato Tasso, Filosofo del Bello, dell' Arte, e\n     dell' Amore_. Roma, 1895.\n\n     Pellissier, G. _De Sexti Decimi Saeculi in Francia Artibus\n     Poeticis_. Paris, 1882.\n\n     Perrens, F. T. _Jerome Savonarole_. 2 vols. Paris, 1853.\n\n     Quadrio, F. S. _Della Storia e della Ragione d' ogni Poesia_. 5\n     vols. Milano, 1739-1752.\n\n     Quossek, C. _Sidney's Defense of Poesy und die Poetik des\n     Aristoteles_. Krefeld, 1884.\n\n     Robert, P. _La Poetique de Racine_. Paris, 1890.\n\n     Rosenbauer, A. _Die Poetischen Theorien der Plejade nach\n     Ronsard und Dubellay_. Erlangen, 1895.\n\n     Rucktaeschel, T. _Einige Arts Poetiques aus der Zeit Ronsard's\n     und Malherbe's_. Leipzig, 1889.\n\n     Schelling, F. E. _Poetic and Verse Criticism of the Reign of\n     Elizabeth_. Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press,\n     1891.\n\n     Solerti, A. _Vita di Torquato Tasso_. 3 vols. Torino, 1895.\n\n     Symonds, J. A. _Renaissance in Italy_. 7 vols. New York, 1888.\n\n     Teichmueller, G. _Aristotelische Forschungen_. 2 vols. Halle,\n     1869.\n\n     Tiraboschi, G. _Storia della Letteratura Italiana_. 9 vols.\n     Firenze, 1805-1813.\n\n     Villari, P. _Life and Times of Girolamo Savonarola_, translated\n     by L. Villari. New York, 1896.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n  Abu-Baschar, 16.\n\n  Academie de Poesie et de Musique, 224, 300.\n\n  Accademia della Crusca, 123.\n\n  Accademia della Nuova Poesia, 222, 224.\n\n  Addison, 295.\n\n  AEschylus, 96.\n\n  Agricola, 132.\n\n  Agrippa, Cornelius, 7, 273, 275.\n\n  Alamanni, Luigi, 222.\n\n  Alberti, Leon Battista, 221.\n\n  Alexander of Aphrodisias, 78.\n\n  Ambrose of Milan, 7.\n\n  Aneau, Barthelemy, 182 _sq._\n\n  Aphthonius, 27.\n\n  Aquinas, Thomas, 6, 15.\n\n  Areopagus, 300.\n\n  Aretino, 106, 163.\n\n  Ariosto, 109, 112 _sq._, 115 _sq._, 123, 162, 222, 293 _sq._\n\n  Aristophanes, 11.\n\n  Aristotle, _passim_, especially 16 _sq._, 136 _sq._, 164 _sq._, 183\n  _sq._, 308 _sq._; _Poetics_, _passim_; _Rhetoric_, 86.\n\n  Ascham, 254 _sq._, 283 _sq._, 298 _sq._, 302 _sq._; _Scholemaster_, 254.\n\n  Aubignac, Abbe d', 210, 223, 236, 245 _sq._; _Pratique du Theatre_, 210,\n  245.\n\n  Averroes, 16, 24, 26, 314.\n\n\n  Bacon, Francis, 276 _sq._, 306; _Advancement of Learning_, 276.\n\n  Bacon, Roger, 16.\n\n  Baif, J. A. de, 224 _sq._, 298, 300.\n\n  Baldini, _Ars Poetica Aristotelis_, 140.\n\n  Balzac, Guez de, 139, 239 _sq._\n\n  Bartas, Salluste du, 130, 161, 197, 227, 230.\n\n  Beaubreuil, Jean de, 208.\n\n  Bellay, Joachim du, 172 _sq._, 182 _sq._, 199 _sq._, 210 _sq._; _Defense\n  et Illustration_, 172, 177 _sq._\n\n  Bembo, 117, 126, 153, 161, 180, 255, 305.\n\n  Beni, Paolo, 36, 92, 123, 140, 244.\n\n  Bernays, 80.\n\n  Berni, _Dialogo contra i Poeti_, 9, 153.\n\n  Beza, 230.\n\n  Binet, 192, 219.\n\n  Blackmore, 295.\n\n  Blenerhasset, Thomas, 299.\n\n  Boccaccio, 8, 13, 16, 35, 165, 193, 261; _De Genealogia Deorum_, 9.\n\n  Boccalini, _Ragguagli di Parnaso_, 258.\n\n  Boileau, 39, 48, 108, 130 _sq._, 153, 208 _sq._, 245 _sq._, 286; _Art\n  Poetique_, 108, 249.\n\n  Bossuet, 7, 238.\n\n  Bouteauville, Michel de, 223.\n\n  Breitinger, H., 90.\n\n  Brunetiere, 93, 176.\n\n  Bruni, Lionardo, 10, 12; _De Studiis et Literis_, 10.\n\n  Bruno, Giordano, 165 _sq._\n\n  Buchanan, 230.\n\n  Budaeus, 173, 310 _n._\n\n  Bullokar, 256.\n\n  Buonamici, _Discorsi Poetici_, 140, 167.\n\n  Butcher, S. H., 26 _n._, 40, 64, 75.\n\n\n  Calcagnini, 162 _sq._\n\n  Cammillo, Giulio, 32, 176.\n\n  Campanella, 26 _sq._\n\n  Campion, _Observations in the Art of English Poesy_, 297, 304.\n\n  Capriano, 83, 87, 120; _Della Vera Poetica_, 42, 211.\n\n  Caro, Annibal, 222.\n\n  Cascales, 146.\n\n  Castelvetro, 44 _sq._, 55, 316, _et passim_.\n\n  Castiglione, 103, 161, 180.\n\n  Cavalcanti, 127.\n\n  Cecchi, 106.\n\n  Cervantes, 36, 104, 258 _n._, 290 _n._\n\n  Chamberlayne, 295.\n\n  Chapelain, 139, 186, 210, 239 _sq._\n\n  Cheke, Sir John, 254, 308.\n\n  Chretien Le Gouais, 264.\n\n  Cicero, 16, 30, 54, 104, 164, 178.\n\n  Coleridge, 54, 56, 142.\n\n  Corneille, 75, 84, 90, 101, 139, 206, 210, 229, 245.\n\n  Council of Trent, 15, 130, 142, 160, 224, 268, 292.\n\n  Coxe, Leonard, 254.\n\n  Cueva, Juan de la, 146, 233, 305; _Egemplar Poetico_, 146, 234.\n\n\n  Dacier, 63, 70, 75.\n\n  Daniel, _Defence of Rhyme_, 257, 297 _sq._, 304.\n\n  Daniello, 20, 28, 48, 61, 82, 137, 196.\n\n  Dante, 8, 16, 51, 66, 109, 138, 180 _sq._\n\n  Dati, Leonardo, 221.\n\n  Davenant, 259, 295.\n\n  Deimier, 216.\n\n  Denores, 151.\n\n  Descartes, 249.\n\n  Deschamps, Eustache, 174.\n\n  Desportes, 237.\n\n  Diomedes, 64 _sq._\n\n  Dolce, Lodovico, 126, 171, 196.\n\n  Dolet, 173, 227.\n\n  Donatus, 104.\n\n  Drant, Thomas, 171, 300 _sq._\n\n  Dryden, 53, 75, 100, 142, 231, 259, 295, 310.\n\n  Duval, 227.\n\n  Dyer, 300.\n\n\n  Ellis, Robinson, 301 _sq._\n\n  Equicola, 58, 127.\n\n  Erasmus, 173, 184.\n\n  Espinel, 171.\n\n  Estienne, Henri, 181, 217.\n\n  Euanthius-Donatus, 65.\n\n  Euripides, 284, 308.\n\n\n  Fabri, Pierre, 174 _sq._\n\n  Fabricius, 147, 305.\n\n  Fanucci, 127.\n\n  Farquhar, 292.\n\n  Fichte, 157.\n\n  Ficino, 160.\n\n  Filelfo, 32, 136.\n\n  Fioretti, Benedetto, 167.\n\n  _Fleur de Rhetorique_, 174.\n\n  Fontaine, Charles, 181 _sq._\n\n  Fracastoro, 22, 31 _sq._, 40 _sq._, 141, 157, 258; _Naugerius_, 31.\n\n  Fulgentius, 7, 8.\n\n\n  Gabrielli, Trifone, 138.\n\n  Gambara, _De Perfecta Poeseos Ratione_, 161.\n\n  Garnier, 230.\n\n  Gascoigne, 256, 301.\n\n  Gelli, 106, 163.\n\n  Giraldi Cintio, 49, 62, 67, 76, 83, 91, 110 _sq._, 123, 138, 146, 162,\n  211, 235, 284.\n\n  Goldoni, 167.\n\n  Gosson, 7, 266 _sq._, 273.\n\n  Gracien du Pont, 174 _sq._\n\n  _Great Assises holden in Parnassus_, 258, 310 _n._\n\n  Gregory the Great, 8.\n\n  Greville, Fulke, 300.\n\n  Grevin, 201 _sq._, 228, 232.\n\n  Grynaeus, 184.\n\n  Guarini, _Pastor Fido_, 164.\n\n  Guarino, _De Ordine Docendi_, 10.\n\n\n  Hardy, Alexandre, 232, 235 _sq._\n\n  Harington, 275, 293, 305, 308; _Apologie of Poetrie_, 257, 275, 293.\n\n  Harvey, Gabriel, 117, 255, 299 _sq._, 303 _sq._\n\n  Heinsius, Daniel, 147, 185, 245, 292; _De Tragoediae Constitutione_, 245.\n\n  Heliodorus, 36, 196.\n\n  Hermann, 16.\n\n  Hermogenes, 32; _Idea_, 32.\n\n  Hilary of Poitiers, 7.\n\n  Hobbes, 103 _n._, 259.\n\n  Homer, 4, 6, 18, _et passim_.\n\n  Horace, 11, 16, _et passim_; _Ars Poetica_, _passim_.\n\n  Howard, Sir Robert, 292.\n\n\n  Isidore of Seville, 5, 11, 65.\n\n\n  James VI. of Scotland, 262.\n\n  Jodelle, 173, 206.\n\n  Johannes Januensis de Balbis, 66.\n\n  John of Salisbury, 11.\n\n  Johnson, Samuel, 79, 260.\n\n  Jonson, Ben, 54, 88 _sq._, 104, 142, 246, 258, 278 _sq._, 288 _sq._,\n  297, 304 _sq._\n\n\n  La Bruyere, 241, 248.\n\n  Lamartine, 48.\n\n  La Mesnardiere, 245.\n\n  Landi, Ortensio, 164, 165; _Paradossi_, 164.\n\n  Lasca, Il, 104, 106, 163.\n\n  Laudun, Pierre de, 188, 204, 221, 233; _Art Poetique_, 208.\n\n  Le Bossu, 246, 294.\n\n  Lemoyne, 244.\n\n  Leo X., 126, 154, 160.\n\n  Le Roy, 227.\n\n  Lessing, 75, 79, 142, 147, 310.\n\n  Lionardi, Alessandro, 43, 127.\n\n  Livy, 29, 37.\n\n  Lodge, _Defence of Poetry, Musick, and Stage Plays_, 267.\n\n  Lombardi, 138.\n\n  Longfellow, 302.\n\n  Lucan, 195, 275.\n\n  Lucian, 35.\n\n  Lucretius, 45.\n\n  Luisino, 138.\n\n  Luther, 147 _n._\n\n\n  Macrobius, 244.\n\n  Maggi, 27, 49, 63, 78, 314, _et passim_.\n\n  Mairet, 210.\n\n  Malherbe, 216, 220, 231, 236 _sq._; _Commentaire sur Desportes_, 237.\n\n  Mambrun, 244, 246, 294.\n\n  Mantinus of Tortosa, 16.\n\n  Mantuan, 9.\n\n  Maranta, 108, 146.\n\n  Marguerite de Navarre, 227.\n\n  Marino, 241.\n\n  Marot, 175, 216, 238.\n\n  Mascardo, 310 _n._\n\n  Maximus of Tyre, 6.\n\n  Mazzoni, Jacopo, 309; _Difesa di Dante_, 124 _n._\n\n  Melanchthon, 132, 254.\n\n  Mellin de Saint-Gelais, 175, 206.\n\n  Menage, 241.\n\n  Metastasio, 167.\n\n  Michele, A., 36.\n\n  Milton, 54, 70 _n._, 80 _sq._, 142, 147, 280, 287, 292, 308 _sq._\n\n  Minturno, 21, 52, 269, _et passim_; _Arte Poetica_, 119;\n  _De Poeta_, 21.\n\n  Mirandola, Pico della, 160, 310 _n._\n\n  Moliere, 217.\n\n  Montaigne, 173, 194, 226 _sq._, 240.\n\n  Montchrestien, 230.\n\n  Montemayor, 196.\n\n  Morel, Guillaume, 184.\n\n  Mousset, 223, 298.\n\n  Mulcaster, 296.\n\n  Musaeus, 88.\n\n  Muzio, 38, 58, 87, 104, 129, 144, 161, 213; _Arte Poetica_, 50.\n\n\n  Nisieli, Udeno, _v._ Fioretti, Benedetto.\n\n  Nores, J. de, _v._ Denores.\n\n\n  Ogier, Francois, 235.\n\n  Opitz, _Buch von der deutschen Poeterei_, 147.\n\n  Ovid, 179, 263.\n\n\n  Palingenius, 39.\n\n  Partenio, 127, 134, 141, 147; _Della Imitatione Poetica_, 128.\n\n  Pasquier, 223 _n._\n\n  Patrizzi, 165 _sq._, 222; _Della Poetica_, 165.\n\n  Pazzi, Alessandro de', 17, 137, 314.\n\n  Peacham, _Compleat Gentleman_, 310 _n._\n\n  Pellegrino, Camillo, 122 _sq._\n\n  Pelletier, 171, 175, 182, 191, 199 _sq._, 205, 211, 217, 225.\n\n  Petrarch, 8, 16, 58, 138, 261.\n\n  Philo Judaeus, 7.\n\n  Pibrac, Guy du Faur de, 225.\n\n  Piccolomini, AEneas Sylvius, 12.\n\n  Piccolomini, Alessandro, 139 _sq._, 244, 316.\n\n  Pierre Bercuire, 264.\n\n  Pigna, G. B., 115 _sq._, 123, 235, 284.\n\n  Pinciano, 146.\n\n  Pindar, 211.\n\n  Pisani, Marquise de, 241.\n\n  Plato, 4 _sq._, 14, 78, _et passim_, especially 156 _sq._\n\n  Plautus, 85, 102, 285, 291.\n\n  Plutarch, 27, 42, 114.\n\n  Poliziano, 13 _sq._, 188; _Sylvae_, 13.\n\n  Pomponazzi, 137.\n\n  Pontano, G., 103 _n._, 146 _n._, 153.\n\n  Pontano, P., 146 _n._\n\n  Pontanus, J., 146 _n._, 147.\n\n  Pope, Alexander, 260, 310; _Essay on Criticism_, 108.\n\n  Prynne, 7.\n\n  Puttenham, 264 _sq._, 284, 293; _Arte of English Poesie_, 256, 264.\n\n\n  _Quintil Horatian_, 181 _sq._, 216 _sq._\n\n  Quintilian, 16, 54, 132, 164.\n\n\n  Racan, 237.\n\n  Racine, 75, 139, 238, 245.\n\n  Rambouillet, Marquise de, 241.\n\n  Ramus, 137, 164, 223 _sq._, 227.\n\n  Rapin, 75, 106, 245, 292, 294; _Reflexions sur l'Art Poetique_, 139.\n\n  Regolo, 108.\n\n  Rengifo, 145.\n\n  _Rhetores Graeci_, 17.\n\n  Rhodiginus, 136.\n\n  Ricci, B., 138.\n\n  Riccoboni, 140, 146, 244.\n\n  Richelieu, 209 _sq._\n\n  Robortelli, 17, 25, 29 _sq._, 63, 77, 91, 103, 139, 244, 315.\n\n  Ronsard, 54, 147, 173, 187 _sq._, 206, 211, 218 _sq._, 226 _sq._, 231,\n  256.\n\n  Rucellai, 136.\n\n  Ruscelli, 58, 127.\n\n\n  Sackville, _Gorboduc_, 284, 290.\n\n  Saint-Amant, 244.\n\n  Sainte-Beuve, 152.\n\n  Salviati, Lionardo, 88 _sq._, 123 _sq._, 139 _n._, 140, 162, 181, 305,\n  314, 316.\n\n  Sanchez, Alfonso, 234.\n\n  Sannazaro, 35, 153, 160, 179, 234.\n\n  Savonarola, 6, 13 _sq._, 24, 27, 130, 160.\n\n  Scaliger, Joseph Justus, 245.\n\n  Scaliger, Julius Caesar, 14, 36 _sq._, 43, 58, 131 _sq._, 310 _n._, _et\n  passim_; _Poetics_, 150, 176, _et passim_.\n\n  Schelandre, J. de, 235.\n\n  Schelling, 157.\n\n  Schlegel, 157.\n\n  Schosser, _Disputationes de Tragoedia_, 147 _n._\n\n  Scudery, 244.\n\n  Segni, A., 42 _n._\n\n  Segni, B., 17, 92, 139, 315.\n\n  Selden, 310 _n._\n\n  Seneca, 62, 69, 85, 201, 232, 284 _sq._, 308.\n\n  Shaftesbury, 54.\n\n  Shakespeare, 46, 56, 79, 104 _sq._, 205, 296.\n\n  Shelley, 12, 54, 128, 142, 147, 188, 192, 310.\n\n  Sibilet, 174 _sq._, 223; _Art Poetique_, 175.\n\n  Sidney, Sir Philip, 34, 51, 104, 142, _et passim_; _Defence of Poesy_,\n  268 _sq._, _et passim_.\n\n  Silius Italicus, 195.\n\n  Simonides, 42.\n\n  Sophocles, 62, 284, 308.\n\n  Spenser, 117, 161, 296, 299, 302, 305.\n\n  Speroni, Sperone, 75, 81, 116 _sq._, 242.\n\n  Stanyhurst, Richard, 302.\n\n  Strabo, 24, 27, 47, 54, 193.\n\n  Sturm, John, 132, 254.\n\n  Suckling, _Session of the Poets_, 258.\n\n  Suetonius, _De Poetis_, 65.\n\n  Summo, Faustino, 36, 167.\n\n  Surrey, 299.\n\n  Symonds, J. A., 257.\n\n\n  Taille, Jacques de la, 223 _sq._, 298.\n\n  Taille, Jean de la, 185 _sq._, 201 _sq._, 290; _Art de Tragedie_, 201,\n  206.\n\n  Tasso, Bernardo, 17, 22, 55, 119.\n\n  Tasso, Torquato, 8, 34, 37, 56, 117, 119 _sq._, 128, 130, 139, 151,\n  192, 309; _Discorsi dell'Arte Poetica_, 119, 213; _Apologia_, 123.\n\n  Tempo, Antonio di, 174.\n\n  Tennyson, 302.\n\n  Terence, 85, 106, 287, 291.\n\n  Tertullian, 5.\n\n  Theocritus, 179.\n\n  Theophrastus, 64 _sq._\n\n  Tibullus, 179.\n\n  Tolomei, Claudio, 126, 161, 222, 256, 298.\n\n  Tomitano, 43.\n\n  Toscanella, 108.\n\n  Tottel's _Miscellany_, 255.\n\n  Trincaveli, 137.\n\n  Trissino, 58, 92 _sq._, 102, 106, 112, 126, 136, 176, 206, 288;\n  _Poetica_, 76, 92, 109, 140, 150.\n\n  Turnebus, 184.\n\n  Twining, 80.\n\n\n  Valla, Giorgio, 17, 314.\n\n  Varchi, 27, 34, 41, 50, 124 _n._, 138, 141, 150, 161, 180.\n\n  Vauquelin de la Fresnaye, 48, 176 _sq._, 186, 196, 203, 207, 212, 219,\n  227 _sq._\n\n  Vega, Lope de, 233 _sq._, 258 _n._\n\n  Vettori, 37 _n._, 77, 97, 139, 315.\n\n  Vida, 13, 87, 106, 126 _sq._, 131 _sq._, 148, 160, 183, 187, 215, 218,\n  244, 247.\n\n  Viperano, 146 _n._, 188, 204.\n\n  Virgil, 18, 30, 87, 106, _et passim_.\n\n  Voltaire, 95.\n\n  Vossius, 185, 244 _sq._, 292, 294, 310 _n._\n\n\n  Warton, Joseph, 143.\n\n  Warton, Thomas, 254.\n\n  Watson, Thomas, 298, 308.\n\n  Webbe, William, 268, 284, 293, 302, 305; _Discourse of English Poetrie_,\n  256, 263, 283.\n\n  Wilson, _Rhetoric_, 254, 261, 296.\n\n  Wither, 258.\n\n  Woodberry, G. E., 12 _n._\n\n\n  Xenophon, 30, 275.\n\n\n  Zabarella, 26 _sq._\n\n  Zapata, 171.\n\n\n\n\nLI LIVRES DU GOUVERNEMENT DES ROIS.\n\n_Being a Thirteenth Century French Version of EGIDIO COLONNA'S treatise,\n\"De Regimine Principium.\" From the Kerr MS._\n\nEDITED BY\n\nSAMUEL PAUL MOLENAER, A.M.,\n\n_Instructor in the University of Pennsylvania; Sometime Fellow of\nColumbia University._\n\n8vo. Cloth. $3.00, net.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis treatise, \"On the Education of Princes,\" was prepared in Latin\nabout the year 1285, by the preceptor of the boy prince Philip the Fair\n(afterward Philip IV. of France), and on the accession of the youthful\nking was by him ordered translated into French for the benefit of the\ngeneral public. Numerous editions in the original Latin were published\nin the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, but the French version has\nnever before appeared in print. The work covers a wide range of topics,\neducational and social, discussed in the spirit of enlightened mediaeval\nscholarship. It is believed that, in its present accessible form, it\nwill be found to constitute an interesting chapter in the history of\neducational ideas.\n\nBOSTON TRANSCRIPT.\n\n\"To professional scholars and to those interested in the study of\npolitical science in the Middle Ages it will have unusual interest.\"\n\nSAN FRANCISCO ARGONAUT.\n\n\"The work will appeal not only to the limited number of professional\nscholars for whom the edition is primarily intended, but beyond that to\nthe wider circle of those interested in the study of the Middle Ages and\nin the evolution of pedagogy and of political economy.\"\n\nANNALS OF THE AMERICAN ACADEMY.\n\n\"The edition of Colonna's 'De Regimine Principium,' of which Dr.\nMolenaer has given us an excellent thirteenth-century French version,\nwill interest students of widely differing tastes.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY,\n66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\nPUBLICATIONS OF THE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS.\n\nCLASSICAL STUDIES\n\nIN HONOUR OF HENRY DRISLER.\n\n_A volume of Essays on Classical Subjects contributed by a number of Dr.\nDrisler's former pupils, in commemoration of the fiftieth year of his\nofficial connection with Columbia College._\n\n8vo. Cloth. $4.00, net.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE TITLES OF THE CONTRIBUTIONS ARE AS FOLLOWS:\n\n    On the Meaning of 'Nauta' and 'Viator' in Horace, Sat. i. 5. 11-23.\n\n    Anaximander on the Prolongation of Infancy in Man. A Note on the\n      History of the Theory of Evolution.\n\n    Of Two Passages in Euripides' Medea.\n\n    The Preliminary Military Service of the Equestrian Cursus Honorum.\n\n    References to Zoroaster in Syriac and Arabic Literature.\n\n    Literary Frauds among the Greeks.\n\n    Henotheism in the Rig-Veda.\n\n    On Plato and the Attic Comedy.\n\n    Herodotus vii. 61, or the Arms of the Ancient Persian Illustrated from\n      Iranian Sources.\n\n    Archaism in Aulus Gellius.\n\n    On Certain Parallelisms between the Ancient and the Modern Drama.\n\n    Ovid's Use of Colour and Colour-Terms.\n\n    A Bronze of Polyclitan Affinities in the Metropolitan Museum.\n\n    Geryon in Cyprus.\n\n    Hercules, Hydra, and Crab.\n\n    Onomatopoetic Words in Latin.\n\n    Notes on the Vedic Deity Pusan.\n\n    The So-Called Medusa Ludovisi.\n\n    Aristotle and the Arabs.\n\n    Iphigenia in Greek and French Tragedy.\n\n    Gargettus: an Attic Deme.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"The circumstances of the issue of this handsome volume give it an\nemotional interest which makes it a volume separate and distinct among\nthe collected records of the investigations of scholars. The studies\nthemselves, for the most part, appeal in the first instance to\nspecialists, but many of them have a much wider interest. The book is a\ncredit to American scholarship, as well as a fit tribute to the honored\nname of Professor Drisler.\"--_The Outlook_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY,\n66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  CORRECTIONS:\n\n  Footnote 30: ad nostras was changed to ad nostra (\"Jacuit liber hic\n  neglectus, ad nostra\").\n\n  Page 26: [Greek: ton euantion] was changed to [Greek: ton enantion].\n\n  Page 218: Postero was changed to Postera (Postera Phoebea lustrabat\n  lampade terras).\n\n  Page 229: sulutaires was changed to salutaires (sous les loix\n  salutaires).\n\n  REMARKS:\n  Part I, Chapter IV:\n  Trissino (1561): Appendix A does not list Trissino in 1561.\n\n  Part II, Chapter I:\n  The two subsections listed in the Table of Contents do not\n  appear in the text.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"A History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance: With special reference to the influence of Italy in the formation and development of modern classicism","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":83164}