The works of Richard Hurd, volume 1 (of 8)
v. 19, 20, should introduce a cypress into a sea-piece, or, according
to the illustration of the present verse, who paints a dolphin in a wood, or a boar in the sea.
2. Another instance, in which we are misled by an _ambition of attaining to what is right_, is, when, through an excessive fear of committing faults, we disqualify ourselves for the just execution of a _whole_, or of such _particulars_, as are susceptible of real beauty. For not the affectation of superior excellencies only, but even
_In vitium ducit_ culpae fuga, _si caret arte_.
This is aptly illustrated by the case of a sculptor. An over-scrupulous diligence to finish single and trivial parts in a statue, which, when most exact, are only not faulty, leaves him utterly incapable of doing justice to the more important members, and, above all, of designing and completing a _whole_ with any degree of perfection. But this latter is commonly the defect of a minute genius; who, having taken in hand a design, which he is by no means able to execute, naturally applies himself to labour and finish those parts, which he finds are within his power. It is of consequence therefore [from v. 38 to 40] for every writer to be well acquainted with the nature and extent of his own talents: and to be careful to chuse a subject, which is, in all its parts, proportioned to his strength and ability. Besides, from such an attentive survey of his subject, and of his capacity to treat it, he will also derive these further advantages [v. 41] 1. That he cannot be wanting in a proper fund of matter, wherewith to inlarge under every head: nor, 2. can he fail, by such a well-weighed choice, to dispose of his subject in the best and most convenient method. Especially, as to the latter, which is the principal benefit, he will perceive [to v. 45] where it will be useful to preserve, and where to change, the natural order of his subject, as may best serve to answer the ends of poetry.
Thus far some general reflexions concerning _poetical distribution_; principally, as it may be affected by false notions, 1. Of _poetic licence_ [v. 10] and, 2. Of _poetic perfection_ [v. 25]. But the same causes will equally affect the _language_, as _method_, of poetry. To these then are properly subjoined some directions about the _use of words_. Now this particular depending so entirely on what is out of the reach of rule, as the fashion of the age, the taste of the writer, and his knowledge of the language, in which he writes, the poet only gives directions about _new words_: or, since every language is necessarily imperfect, about the _coining of such words_, as the writer’s necessity or convenience may demand. And here, after having prescribed [l. 46] a great _caution_ and _sparingness_ in the thing itself, he observes, 1. [to l. 49] That where it ought to be done, the better and less offensive way will be, not to coin a _word_ entirely new (for this is ever a task of some envy) but, by means of an ingenious and happy position of a well-known word, in respect of some others, to give it a new air, and cast. Or, if it be necessary to _coin new words_, as it will be in subjects of an abstruse nature, and especially such, as were never before treated in the language, that then, 2. [to l. 54] this liberty is very allowable; but that the reception of them will be more easy, if we derive them gently, and without too much violence, from their proper source, that is, from a language, as the Greek, already known, and approved. And, to obviate the prejudices of over-scrupulous critics on this head, he goes on [from l. 54 to l. 73] in a vein of popular illustration, to alledge, in favour of this liberty, the examples of antient writers, and the vague, unsteady nature of language itself.
From these reflexions on poetry, at large, he proceeds now to _particulars_: the most obvious of which being the different _forms and measures_ of poetic composition, he considers, in this view [from v. 75 to 86] the four great species of poetry, to which all others may be reduced, _the Epic_, _Elegiac_, _Dramatic_, and _Lyric_. But the distinction of the _measures_ to be observed in the several species of poetry is so obvious, that there can scarcely be any mistake about them. The difficulty is to know [from v. 86 to 89] how far, each may partake of the _spirit_ of other, without destroying that _natural and necessary difference_, which ought to subsist betwixt them all. To explane this, which is a point of great nicety, he considers [from v. 89 to 99] the case of dramatic poetry; the two species of which are as distinct from each other, as any two can be, and yet there are times, when the features of the one will be allowed to resemble those of the other. For, 1. Comedy, in the passionate parts, will admit of a tragic elevation: and, 2. Tragedy, in its soft distressful scenes, condescends to the ease of familiar conversation. But the poet had a further view in chusing this instance. For he gets by this means into the main of his subject, which was dramatic poetry, and, by the most delicate transition imaginable, proceeds [from l. 89 to 323] to deliver a series of rules, interspersed with historical accounts, and enlivened by digressions, for the regulation and improvement of the ROMAN STAGE.