1.
mvp-aristotle-comment-1
NOTE 1. P. 1.
1.1
DITHYRAMBICS—IMITATION.
If the senses, in which the term imitation is applied by Aristotle to Poetry, have been rightly determined in the first Dissertation, there can be no difficulty with respect to the imitative nature of the Epic and Dramatic species. That of the Dithyrambic is not quite so obvious, and has accordingly been variously explained. The little, however, that remains of what Aristotle had said upon this subject, seems sufficient to release any commentator, who is willing to be released, from the trouble of conjectural ingenuity.
In Sect. 3. Part I. where the different objects of imitation are considered, he expressly makes Dithyrambic Poetry imitative of actions, characters, and manners, as well as the Epic and Dramatic; and he, particularly, mentions the Persians and the Cyclops as imitated in the Dithyrambic and Nomic Poetry of Timotheus and Philoxenus.
1
We may conclude, then, that he regarded this kind of Poetry as imitative because, though the mythological tales, which furnished the subject of these hymns, were,
indeed, articles of Pagan faith, and depended not on the Poet's imagination, yet, in the detail of these stories, in describing the actions, and delineating the characters, of the deities themselves, and, still more, of other fabulous and heroic personages occasionally introduced, his fancy and invention must necessarily be, more or less, employed.
This, as we have seen, was, in Aristotle's view, imitation, whether the form of that imitation was partly dramatic and personative, or mere recital in the person of the Poet
2
. That the Poetry of these Dithyrambic compositions was chiefly of the latter kind, seems to be implied in the expression of Plato, who, where he explains his division of Poetry into three sorts—the purely imitative, or dramatic, the purely narrative, and the mixed—refers, for an example of the purely narrative, to Dithyrambic Poetry.
3
Yet he says only, that it is to be found chiefly there—
ἐυροις δ᾽ ἂν αυτην ΜΑΛΙΣΤΑ ΠΟΥ ἐν Διθυραμβοις
. The expression is remarkable, and leaves room for more than a conjecture, that the Dithyrambic was sometimes imitative even in the strict sense of Plato; that is, that the dramatic mixture of the Epic was occasionally admitted.
Instances of this occur in the Odes of Pindar; and many of the Odes of Horace are dramatic
4
. The embarrassment of the commentators seems to have arisen, principally, from the difficulty they found in conceiving, that fiction could be admitted into a species of Poetry addressed to the Gods, and founded on the established Theology of the age. The hymns of Callimachus, and those attributed to Homer, might have been
sufficient to remove this difficulty. These are not, like the Orphic hymns, mere invocations, and indigitamenta, consisting in a short and solemn accumulation of epithets and attributes: they are Epic, narrative hymns; in which the birth, the actions, and even the characters and manners of the deities are described at length, and the fictions of the Poet's imagination are every where engrafted upon the popular creed. The mixture of dramatic imitation, in the Dithyrambic Poetry, is also rendered more probable by the frequent examples of it in these hymns; and especially in those of Homer. From the enthusiastic, wild, audacious character
5
peculiarly attributed to the Bacchic hymns, we have, surely, no reason to suppose in them a degree of scruple and reserve, with respect to all this, which we do not find in other antient religious compositions of a more sober and regular cast.
After what has been said, the reader will hardly think it necessary to have recourse to so distant and conjectural an interpretation as that of the Abbé Batteux, who says—
"Le Dithyrambe est imitation, parceque le Poete, en le composant, exprime d'apres le vraisemblable, les sentimens, les transports, l'ivresse, qui doit regner dans le Dithyrambe."
6
This ingenious writer seems to have been forced into this solution of the matter by his desire of extending the principle of Poetic imitation beyond the limits, not only of Aristotle's meaning, but of all reasonable analogy. All Lyric Poetry he holds to be essentially imitative;
7
and defining it to be that Poetry,
"qui exprime le sentiment,"
he is reduced to the necessity of making out these sentiments, or feelings, to be, in some sort, imitations; for no other reason, than, that they are assumed and feigned—the temporary produce of that voluntary enthusiasm, which the Poet, by the force of his imagination, excites in himself during the moments of composition. But this belongs rather to the style and manner, than to the matter, of Poetry: if imitation at all, it is the imitation, not, properly, of the Poet, but of the man, in order to become the Poet.—The general character of Lyric Poetry is enthusiasm; and enthusiasm, says M. Batteux,
"n'est autre chose qu'un sentiment quel qu'il soit—amour, colere, joie, admiration, tristesse, &c.—produit par une idee."
8
But if all illusive feelings of this kind, raised in us by imagination, are imitations, then, not only every artist of genius is an imitator, when he conceives and plans his work, but even every man of sensibility, whenever he is led, by the voluntary excursions of his fancy, into warm and passionate feelings, that are not prompted by real circumstances. It is certain, indeed, that not only Dithyrambic and Lyric Poetry, but Epic also, and perhaps every other species worth regarding, has its appropriated style and tone, which every Poet adopts and imitates, when he composes in the kind to which it belongs. But the same may be said of a history, a sermon, and even of a letter: for in these also, though we may not imitate any particular writer, we naturally conform to the general style and manner that characterize the particular species of composition.
All this however has, manifestly, nothing to do with the imitation that we are considering.
The Lyric Poet is not always, and essentially, an imitator, any more than the Epic. While he is merely expressing his own sentiments, in his own person, we consider him not as imitating;—we inquire not whether they are the assumed sentiments of the Poetic character, or the real sentiments of the writer himself; we do not even think of any such distinction. He is understood to imitate, in the most general view, no otherwise than by fiction, by personation, by description, or by sound;
9
in the view of Aristotle, only by the two first of these.
I will only add, that the Dithyrambic Poetry was, it seems, not originally imitative, but became so by degrees. This fact, and the causes of it, we learn from a curious passage, in the Harmonic Problems of Aristotle, which I shall have occasion to mention in another place.
2.
mvp-aristotle-comment-2
NOTE 2. P. 2.
1.4
FOR, AS MEN, SOME THROUGH ART, AND SOME THROUGH HABIT, IMITATE VARIOUS OBJECTS, &C.
I have followed the old and most authentic reading,
δια της ΦΩΝΗΣ
: which, though not unexceptionable, has been rejected, I think, without sufficient reason. The philosopher is, here, only illustrating what he had said of the different means of poetical and musical imitation, by comparing those arts, in this respect, with other arts more strictly and obviously imitative.
That he meant to confine his illustration to Painting, was a groundless fancy of Dacier, which led him into two unnecessary corrections of the text, and a very forced and improbable explication of the whole passage. The remark of Aristotle, parenthetically flung in, about art and habit, (
δι μεν δια τεχνης, δι δε δια συνηθειας
,) was by no means necessary to his illustration. Dacier extends the parenthesis by the reading he adopts, (
δι μεν δια τέχνης, οι δε δια συνηθειας, ἐτεροι δε ΔΙ' ΑΜΦΟΙΝ
,) then wonders, why Aristotle,
"qui n'ecrit pas un seul mot inutilement,"
should enter into such a detail; and then, wantonly alters the text, (from
δια τεχνής
, to
δια ΤΥΧΗΣ
,) in order to account for it in a manner, that leaves it more wonderful than he found it.
Castelvetro had before proposed a similar alteration—
ἐτεροι δε ΑΜΦΟΤΕΡΟΙΣ
; but in a sense, which, could it be supported, would be far more to the purpose than that of Dacier:
i. e. "others, again, [imitate] both by colour and by figure." This would answer to what follows, that the different means of imitation, in the Poetical and Musical arts, were used, sometimes separately, and sometimes combined. To this sense, however, an objection immediately occurs. We may imitate an object by figure without colour, but not by colour without figure.
10
But it would be a waste of discussion to enter fully into the merits of an explanation, that is founded on a reading, by no means, I think, sufficiently warranted, either by the authority of MSS. or by any necessity of alteration.
That the words
χρωματα
and
σχηματα
are very frequently joined by the Greek writers to denote painting, is certain. But Aristotle is not here speaking of the different Arts which employ these means of imitation, but of the means themselves, separately and abstractedly. The application of these, singly, or in their various combinations, to those arts, he has left to the reader. It seems probable, (as Victorius has observed,) that Sculpture, at least, was included in Aristotle's idea of
σχηματα
. Possibly, too, the word may be here used in its widest sense, of figure or form in general; which would take in the outline of Painting, the solid figure of Sculpture, and the gestures of the personal Mimic.
That, at least, the word
φωνη
is right, in the old reading, appears highly probable from the frequent mention of the voice, as a principal instrument of imitation, in antient authors. It is called by Aristotle, as Mr. Winstanley has judiciously observed,
παντων μιμητικωτατον των μοριων ημων
.
11
Farther by this reading the illustration intended is more perfect, as it comprehends more "means of different kinds"—
ΓΕΝΕΙ ἑτερα
. The same reason favours also the extension of the word
σχηματα
to Sculpture, at least.
The only objection to the reading,
δια της φωνης
, is, the improbability that Aristotle should, without any apparent reason, envelop the whole passage in embarrassment and ambiguity, by such a change of phrase : —
ΔΙΑ φωνης
; — which every reader is naturally led to join, not with the datives,
χρώμασι και σχημασι
, but with
ΔΙΑ τέχνης
, and
ΔΙΑ συνηθειας
: but the word
φωνης
opposing such a construction, has therefore, probably, been changed to
άμφοιν
. This objection has not been solidly answered, I think, either by Victorius, or any other commentator; nor can I think the change of phrase here by any means sufficiently accounted for, merely by assigning, as Victorius does, a passage of Lucian, where the phrase itself, (to which no one objects,) occurs. [See Mr. Winstanley's note.]—I am much inclined, therefore, to admit the reading said by Madius to have been found in an antient MS. and confirming the conjecture of Robortelli, —
ἐτεροι δε ΤΗ ΦΩΝΗ.
This would clearly mark the bounds of the parenthesis, and fix the construction :
και χρωμασι, και σχήμασι, πολλα μιμενται τινες —(—) ἐτεροι δε τη φωνῃ
.
3.
mvp-aristotle-comment-3
NOTE 3. P. 2.
1.5
AND OF ANY OTHER INSTRUMENTS CAPABLE OF A SIMILAR EFFECT, AS, THE SYRINX OR PIPE.
The word
Συριγξ
is usually understood to mean the Fistula Panis, constructed of reeds, differing in length, fastened together with wax and thread : —
καλαμων συνθηκη, λινῳ και κηρῳ συνδεθείσα
— as it is described by Jul. Pollux.
12
Tibullus has presented in two lines almost as distinct an idea of its form as can be obtained from a drawing.
Fistula cui semper decrescit arundinis ordo,
Nam calamus cerâ jungitur usque minor.
[Lib. ii. 5. 31.]
But the
Συριγξ
of Aristotle, whatever it was, is here mentioned with the Lyre, and the Flute, as having some, though an inferior, degree of the same power and effect:
τοιαυται την δυναμιν
. This is hardly applicable to so very simple and rude an instrument as the pipe of Pan; a contrivance not beyond the invention of a school-boy. Instruments of nearly the same construction are found, at this day, not only in Turkey, and Arabia, but even in the island of New Amsterdam in the South Seas; and it is a circumstance somewhat curious, that, in France, the instrument of the Arcadian deity, or something very like it, is degraded to the use of travelling tinkers, and known by the name of
sifflet de chaudronnier. The reader may see a description and a figure of it in Mersennus; as he may, also, of the South Sea instrument in the Philosophical Transactions, vol. 65, Part I.—But he will not, probably, be much disposed to believe, that the wild and random sounds of this savage whistle have any thing to do with the chromatic system of the Greeks.
But the passage before us is not the only one, where the Syrinx is mentioned in a way which naturally leads one to suppose, that some instrument less simple and imperfect than the fistula Panis must be meant. It is often joined with the cithara and the flute, as an instrument of some importance and effect in concerts and choral accompaniments.
13
In Lucian's treatise
Περί Ορχήσεως
, it appears, among other curious information upon the subject, that the words of the drama, which the pantomimic dancer was to express by gesture alone, were, at the same time, sung by a chorus, accompanied by various instruments, among which the syrinx is repeatedly mentioned, together with the
Αυλος
or flute.
14
This has, certainly, the appearance of some more powerful instrument than the pastoral syrinx.—Indeed, from the passage of Pollux above referred to, there is reason to conclude, that there were two instruments of this denomination; that above described, which he calls the rude, or extemporaneous syrinx, [
αυτοσχεδι
] and another, of similar form, but more artificial construction, which he describes as consisting, not of reeds, but of a number of flutes [
αύλοι πολλοι
] arranged in the same manner. The passage is defective; but this seems to me pretty clearly to be the drift of it.
15
By flutes, he must, at least, be supposed to mean pipes of larger size, and of more solid materials, such as those of which flutes were made. It seems, on the whole, very probable, that the syrinx of Aristotle was either some such improved construction of the flute of Pan, or, as I rather incline to believe, some kind of single pipe, or flageolet. Any single pipe, modulated by the fingers, must be regarded as an instrument far superior to any kind of the fistula Panis, that could be played on only by the clumsy expedient of drawing it along the mouth;"
suprà calamos unco percurrere labro,
" as Lucretius has well described the operation.
16
I cannot indeed say, that I have met with any passage in which the word
Συριγξ
, by itself, is clearly and expressly applied to a single musical pipe or flute. But such a sense is perfectly analogous to other common applications of the word; and, on the other hand, I know of no clear authority that restrains the meaning of the word, whenever it is singly used, to the fistula Panis.
17
Athenæus speaks of the
μονοκαλαμα Συριγξ
invented by Mercury, and opposes it to the
πολυκαλαμα
; and Spanheim, whose authority, in matters of erudition, is as great as the profoundest erudition can give to any man, understands this single-reed syrinx to be meant in the hymn to Mercury attributed to Homer, where it is said of that god, that—
ΣΥΡΙΓΓΩΝ ἐνοπην ποιησατο ΤΗΛΟΘ᾽ ΑΚΟΥΣΤΗΝ.
v. 509. —a mode of characterizing the tone of the instrument, that reminds one of the "ear-piercing fife" of Shakspeare.
After all, a modern reader may be still surprised to find any degree of imitation, or expression, attributed to so trifling an instrument as a flageolet, or a common flute. But, in reading antient authors, it is frequently necessary, if we would either relish, or even understand them, properly, to lay aside modern ideas. And if this be necessary in general, it is, perhaps, peculiarly so in the subject of Music. Expression, in our musical language, usually conveys the idea of delicate and refined performance, and is almost appropriated to emotions of the tender and pathetic kind. But, with the antients, imitation, or expression (for the words appear to have been synonymous,) extended to every kind of emotion; to every effect produced, in any considerable degree, by Music upon the mind. Now very simple instruments, as well as very simple music, are capable of making impressions, and strong impressions, of the joyous kind, without any delicacy or refinement, either in the composition, or the execution. It is not, therefore, strange, that the syrinx, a shrill and lively pipe, should be ranked by Aristotle as an instrument of some expression; especially if, as it seems probable, the syrinx, of whatever kind, was considered as a pastoral instrument, and its expressions were, in consequence, aided by the association of rural and pastoral ideas. The rude syrinx of Pan was unquestionably of this kind, and appropriated to pastoral use; and, as far as it can be supposed to have affected by association, might, in the musical language of the Greeks, and by a hearer who felt that effect from it, be considered and spoken of as imitative, without impropriety. But being, as I conceive, of too simple and inconvenient a construction to admit of any expression but what it derived purely from associated ideas, it would not, I think, have been joined by Aristotle with the most expressive and refined instruments of the antients, the cithara, and the flute, and mentioned as of "similar power and effect."
4.
mvp-aristotle-comment-4
NOTE 4.
1.6
P. 2. FOR THERE ARE DANCERS WHO BY RHYTHM APPLIED TO GESTURE.
performed,] The Greek is—
ὁι των ὀρχηστων
: but there is great reason to suspect the reading. It is generally rendered,
"Some dancers:"
but Victorius, who understands it in that sense, says—
durus tamen sermo
; and produces no authority for such a phrase. Heinsius
proposed—
ΠΟΛΛΟΙ των ὀρχησων
. The learned reader may, perhaps, agree with me, that—
ΕΝΙοι των όρχησων
, would be preferable, as nearer to the text. It is not probable, that the degree of imitative skill here described was possessed by all dancers, or even by
"the greater part"
of them. A passage from Aristocles is preserved by
Athenæus
, in which Telestes, a dancer employed by Æschylus, is mentioned as remarkable for this talent:—
ΟΥΤΩΣ ΗΝ ΤΕΧΝΙΤΗΣ, ωστε, εν τω ορχεισθαι τες Επτα επι Θηβας, φανερα ποιεισθαι τα πραγματα δι ορχησεως.
[Athen. p. 22.]
This dancing appears plainly to have been of that kind, which was afterwards pushed to such an excess of cultivation by the pantomimic dancers in the age of Augustus;
18
and which is well known to have divided all Rome into parties, and even, frequently, to have made the theatre a scene of bloodshed.
19
Of this fact, I cannot help adding, that a proof somewhat curious is furnished by
Valerius Maximus
; who, in the arrangement of his miscellaneous work, places his chapter
De Spectaculis
, immediately after that,
De militaribus institutis
; and gives this reason:
"Proximus militaribus institutis, ad urbana castra, id est, Theatra, gradus faciendus est: quoniam hæc quoque, sæpenumero, animosas acies instruxerunt; excogitataque cultûs Deorum, et hominum delectationis, causâ, non sine aliquo pacis rubore, voluptatem et religionem CIVILI SANGUINE, Scenicorum portentorum gratiâ, macularunt."
[Lib. ii. 4.]
—These
scenica portenta
were the Pantomimes.
Aristotle says here,
δια των σχηματιζομενων ῥυθμων
. It seems, at first view, that the inverse of this expression would have been more accurate—
δια των ρυθμιζομενων σχηματων
—by rhythmic gestures. And, if he had been here considering the imitation of Dance, separately, and in itself, he probably would have expressed himself in that way. But dancing is here transiently mentioned,
merely to exemplify what he had been saying, of the combined, or separate, use of rhythm, words, and melody; and to shew, in what manner, not only melody and rhythm might be separated from words, as in music; but rhythm, also, might be separated from melody, and used alone.
20
Any mode of expression, therefore, which would have represented gestures (
σχηματα
) as the principal means of the imitation, would not have suited his purpose. It would, also, as Victorius and others have observed, have tended to confound the means of imitation in the poetic and musical arts, which he is here considering, with those means of a different kind, which he had just enumerated, as employed in arts of more obvious and strict imitation, and among which
ΣΧΗΜΑΤΑ
were mentioned.
It has been also objected, that Aristotle is, here, professedly instancing
εν ταις ΕΙΡΗΜΕΝΑΙΣ τεχναις
—in the arts
"above-mentioned"
and yet introduces Dancing, which had not been mentioned: a difficulty easily overcome, if we consider, that Dancing was among the musical arts; closely connected with Poetry, and, above all, with Tragedy.
5.
mvp-aristotle-comment-5
NOTE 5.
1.7
P. 3. THE EPOPOEIA IMITATES BY WORDS ALONE, OR BY VERSE, &c.
In my translation of this perplexing passage, as far as the words—
ποιοιτο την μιμησιν
—inclusively, I have given that sense which is now generally adopted, and in which almost all the
commentators
21
are agreed. And it has certainly this advantage, that it seems to be the only consistent and intelligible version that can be given of the whole passage, as it now stands. But it appears to me, after the closest attention I have been able to give it, that, in the present condition of the text, no man can reasonably be confident of conveying the true meaning of Aristotle in any translation or explanation that he can give.
The passage sets out with an expression most unfortunately ambiguous, and demonstrated to be so, by the very confidence with which the ambiguity has been denied, by critics and commentators of great learning and sagacity, in favour of interpretations directly opposite to each other. Some, by the expression,
λογοις ψιλοις
, have understood Aristotle to mean prose, and others, verse, without music.
—But this is far from being all the difficulty with which a translator has to struggle in this passage. In the words—
ἐιθ ἐνι τινι γενει ΧΡΩΜΕΝΗ των μετρων τυγχανεσα ΜΕΧΡΙ ΤΟΥ ΝΥΝ
—there is, surely, something defective. All render this,
"or, making use of some one kind of metre, AS IT HAS DONE to this day."
22
And this, indeed, seems the only sense that can be given to the words as they stand. But it appears to me, that the original cannot, by any fair and warranted elliptical construction, be made to say this. Heinsius alone gives the fair and literal version;
"vel uno tantum genere utatur usque ad tempus nostrum"
in plain English—
"whether mixing different metres together, or using some one kind of metre to this day."
I am perfectly aware of the elliptical genius of the Greek language in general, and of Aristotle's style, in particular; yet to my ears, I confess, this English, nonsensical as it is, does not sound more strange than the Greek from which it is taken. Some word, or words, must, I should suppose, have been omitted between
τυγχανεσα
, and,
μέχρι
.
Again:—
οὐδεν γαρ ἂν ἐχοιμεν ΟΝΟΜΑΣΑΙ ΚΟΙΝΟΝ τες Σωφρονος και Ξεναρχε μιμες, &c.
—I submit it to those who are versed in the Greek language, whether it seems probable, that, if Aristotle had meant to express the sense usually given to the words, (i. e.
"for we should otherwise have no common name to give to,"
&c.) he would have expressed it in that Greek? I can only say that I know of no similar example. But farther: the words are conditional—
οὐδεν γαρ ΑΝ ἐχοιμεν
—and yet the condition is by no means clearly pointed out. The sense may be, and has been, variously supplied. It seems not improbable, that there is some omission between the words,
νυν
, and
οὐδεν
.—I am not able entirely to repel a suspicion—for I give it as nothing more—that the words,
μεχρι τε νων
, may belong to this sentence, and the whole may originally have stood thus:—
ἐιτε μιγνυσα μετ᾿ ἀλληλων, ἐιθ ἐνι τινι γενα χρωμενη των μετρων τυγχανεσα. Μέχρι ΓΑΡ τε νων οὐδεν ΕΧΟΜΕΝ, &c.
i. e.
"For we have hitherto no common appellation,"
&c.
23
So much, as to the condition of the text in this passage. The interpretation, which I have followed, has been very ably defended by several of the commentators, whose arguments I need not repeat; by none, I think, so powerfully as by
Paolo Beni
: but it requires considerable patience to follow him through the controversial zigzag of his captious and fatiguing logic.
The strongest support furnished by Aristotle himself to this extension of the term
Epopœia to all imitation, fiction, invention, &c.
by words only, without music, whether in verse or prose, is, I think, to be found in
Sect. 6, Part I. [Original, cap. ix.]
For, if a history put into verse would, as he there asserts, be still a sort of history, we may infer, that an Epic Poem reduced to prose would, in his idea, have been still a sort, at least, of Poem. What he says in the conclusion of that section—that the Poet should be the
Ποιητης
, or Maker, rather of his fable, than of his verse, has the same aspect. The same idea is also favoured by the extent which he has actually given to the term
Epopœia, in
Sect. 3, Part I. [Original, cap. ii.]
where it is expressly applied, not only to the serious Poetry of Homer, but to Poems of a comic, and even burlesque, character.
An Epic Poem without elevation is, nearly, as repugnant to modern ideas as a Poem without verse. It would not appear much more strange to give the title of Epic Poem to
Tom Jones, than to
Hudibras; to apply it to the
Telemaque, would, undoubtedly, appear much less strange.
It may be worth remarking, farther, that there is one circumstance, which, I think, would evidently tend to render this doctrine of Aristotle—if it was his doctrine—less extraordinary to the ancients, than it appears to us; and that is, that the difference between metre, and well-measured prose, though, no doubt, sufficient to make them readily distinguished by the ear, seems to have been less than it is with us. To what a degree of refinement they carried their rules for the application of the various poetical feet to their prose compositions, and with what fastidious delicacy of ear they discriminated one combination of syllables from another, is well known from the writings of
Cicero
,
Quintilian
,
Dion. Halicarnassensis
, &c. It would be thought a strange expression, were a modern writer to say, comparing the Orator and the Poet, that the latter was
"rather more confined by numbers:"
"numeris adstrictior paulo."
24
But, after all, the chief point of difficulty appears to me to lie, not in Aristotle's asserting, that Poetry, in his idea of the word, might subsist without verse, but in his giving the name of
Epopæia to such compositions as the Mimes of Sophron, and the Dialogues of Plato. But of this, in the next note.
In my translation of the words,
λογοις ψιλοις
, I have ventured to depart from the common interpretation; but without any material change in the sense. They are generally understood to mean prose; and Dacier asserts positively, that,
"those two words are never joined by Aristotle or Plato in any other sense."
If he meant, that, wherever
ψιλο
is joined to
λογο
, it is always used to exclude metre only, he is certainly mistaken. He had, himself, but just before, quoted a passage of Plato, in which the expression,
λόγοι ψίλοι
, appears clearly to mean, words without melody. It is in his
second book De Legibus
, where, complaining, in his usual strain, of the separation of Poetry and Music, he says of the Poets, that they employ
ῥυθμον μεν και ῥηματα Μέλες χωρις, ΛΟΓΟΥΣ ΨΙΛΟΥΣ ΕΙΣ ΜΕΤΡΑ ΤΙΘΕΝΤΕΣ: μέλος δ'αν και ῥυθμες άνευ ῥηματων, ψιλη κιθαρισει τε και αυλησει προσχρωμενοι
.
25
The words,
λογες ψιλες ἐις μετρα τιθεντες
, Dacier translates, very strangely,
"mettant de la simple prose en vers."
But what has turning prose into verse to
do with Plato's complaint?—
ψιλοι
, here, applied to
λογοι
, answers evidently to
μελες χωρις
, and excludes melody; just as, in
ψιλη κιθαρίσει και άυλησει
, the same adjective answers to
άνευ ῥηματων
, and excludes words. And this appears to me to be the obvious sense of
ψιλοις
in the passage of Aristotle before us. By
λόγοις ψίλοις
, I understand—not, words without metre, i. e. Prose—but, words without music.
26
It is, surely, most natural, and most to Aristotle's purpose, to apply the privative force of
ψιλος
, here, to the two means of imitation, melody and rhythm; which are excluded in the
Epopœia, as words are, in the preceding instance of the flute and the lyre, and both words and music, in that of dance. And thus he has actually used the word, in the compound
ψιλομετρια
, in the next chapter. The only difference is, that there he has joined the word
ψιλά
to metre; here, to words in general. But in both places, the meaning is probably the same—i. e.
"without melody and rhythm."
The word
λογος
is, plainly, used by Aristotle, in his first enumeration of the means of imitation, [
ἐν Ρυθμῳ και Λογῳ και Αρμονια
.
cap. i.
] in the general sense, of language, discourse, or words, whether with, or without metre; as we say,
"the words of a song,"
&c. as opposed to the music
27
; and that, whether those words are verse, as in general they are, or prose, as in the songs of the
Messiah, and in the anthems of our church. And, that the word
λογά
was purposely used by Aristotle in this latitude, is rendered highly probable by his varying the expression, where he
speaks of Tragedy, Comedy, Dithyrambics, and Nomes, to which metre was essential, and substituting there, the word
Μετρῳ
, for
Λογῳ
.
28
It was natural, then, that he should say, when he came to speak of the Epic imitation, as distinguished from those he had before mentioned, that it imitates by words alone—i. e. without melody and rhythm, or, as we should say, without music. But he adds—
Μετροις
—
"or verse."
And why?—Probably, because he thought his expression would be neither clear, nor exact, without it: not clear, because the most usual meaning of
λογοι ψιλοι
being prose, it might have been so taken here, and he might have appeared to say, at least, though no one could reasonably suppose he meant it, that the Epic imitates by prose only—
μονον τοις λόγοις ψιλοις
—not exact, because, metre being, as he himself expressly says, a species, or part, of rhythm,
29
words, put into metre, were not, strictly speaking,
ψιλοι
, that is,
χωρις Αρμονίας και ΡΥΘΜΟΥ
. And this is exactly conformable to the expression of Plato in the passage above quoted, where he considers verse, even unaccompanied by music, as still consisting of rhythm and words, [
ΡΥΘΜΟΝ μεν και ῥηματα Μέλεις χωρις;
]—plainly regarding metre as a species, or form, of rhythm.
I understand, therefore, the meaning of Aristotle, in this expression—
τοις λόγοις ψιλοις, ή τοις μετροις
, to amount to this;—
"by words, without the other means of melody and rhythm, or at most, with so much of rhythm only, as is implied in the idea of metre without rhythm, in its musical sense of strict time."
This sense of the words agrees perfectly with what follows—
οὐδεν γαρ ἂν ἐχοιμεν
, &c. i. e.
"For otherwise—if we do not allow the Epopœia to imitate by words, in the general sense, whether prose or verse—we shall have no common name for Epic imitations in prose; and, if we do not allow it to imitate in either one or more species of metre, we shall have no common name for the same kind of imitation in Elegiac, or other verse."
The great advantage of this sense of
λόγοις ψιλοις
is, that, while it leaves in full force that explanation of the whole passage, which I have followed, it removes, at the same time, or at least considerably weakens, what has always struck me as one of the strongest objections to it. Nothing appears to me more improbable, than, that Aristotle, advancing a doctrine so new, and so repugnant to the prevailing ideas of his own times, as, that a species of Poetry might subsist without verse, should chuse to present this novelty in the most offensive way, by beginning at once, and without any management, with the mention of prose: that he should say—
"The Epic Poem imitates by prose alone, or, by verse."
If by
λόγοις ψιλοις
he had meant prose, as Dacier and others contend, would he not naturally—one might say, unavoidably—have reserved those words for the last in the period? Would not the order, in short, have been this?—
"by verse alone; and that either of a single kind, or mixed—or even by prose."
As I have rendered the words, prose is not mentioned at all, but implied only in the general expression of, words; as it is, equally, in his first enumeration of the means of imitation—
ἐν ῥυθμῳ και ΛΟΓΩΙ και άρμονια
. At the worst, the idea of prose is not, as in the other version, presented before that of verse.
With respect to what I have said of the novelty of the philosopher's doctrine, and its remoteness from the common ideas of the ancients concerning the importance of metre to Poetry, I may refer even to his own way of speaking, in general, upon that subject. In his
Rhetoric
, for example, he says—
ῥυθμον δει ἐχειν του λογον, Μετρον δε, μη ΠΟΙΗΜΑ ΓΑΡ ΕΣΤΑΙ.
—
"In prose-composition there should be rhythm, but not metre: for then it will be a POEM."
30
The reader may also be not displeased to see what
Isocrates thought of the importance of verse, in a passage, which I have given in
NOTE 229
, respecting the privileges and advantages of Poetry.—Plato goes so far, as to compare Poetry, when reduced to prose, to a face, which, having no solid beauty of form and symmetry, has lost its only charm, when the bloom of youth, and delicacy of complexion, have deserted it.
31
But the zeal of Plato for depreciating Poetry is well known. He would, probably, have approved the indignation of one of the Fathers, who called it
"the Devil's wine."
It must be confessed, however, that he has poured a great deal of this wine into his own writings; and were they to be reduced to plain prose, and stripped of that
άνθος
—that bloom and colouring of poetic diction, and poetic fancy, by which they are so distinguished, I should be in some pain for the appearance they would make.
But, to return:—After all that is to be said in favour of that interpretation, which, on the whole, I have thought it best to follow, I must end this note, as I began it, by declaring my conviction of the imperfect condition of the original, and confessing my doubt, whether the true meaning of Aristotle, in this passage, has yet been, or ever will be, discovered.
6.
mvp-aristotle-comment-6
NOTE 6.
1.8
P. 3. THE MIMES OF SOPHRON AND XENARCHUS, AND THE SOCRATIC DIALOGUES.
HAD Aristotle proposed only to extend the term
Εποποἰία to all imitations of the NARRATIVE kind, whether in verse or prose, whether serious or comic, this, to a reader who should enter thoroughly into his ideas of Poetry, would not, perhaps, appear extraordinary. It would be only classing the different forms of Poetry, as one might expect him to class them, according to what he himself conceived to be the chief and most characteristic difference of their imitations. But here, we find the name applied to compositions of a character strikingly different—to Mimes, and Dialogues; for it is indeed, as Dacier says, a very obvious question, and one which cannot but have occurred to every reader—
"les Dialogues ne ressemblent-ils pas plutot au Poeme Dramatique, qu' au Poeme Epique?"
—An embarrassing question, and which, being at all events to be answered, he answers immediately, and roundly—
"Non, sans doute."
And why? Because, says he,
"the drama imitates by words and music, the Epic Poem, by words only."
But, to apply the expression of the philosopher to this critic—
πλεξας ἐυ, λυει κακως
.
32
This is much the same thing as if one should deny, that two men, of form and features strikingly similar, resembled each other, merely because their coats were of different colours; or, to come still nearer to the case, if one should assert that one of these men bore a greater resemblance to a third, with whom he chanced to agree in the single circumstance
of not wearing a wig. Is it probable, that Aristotle, in classing and denominating a principal species of Poetry, should be guided by such a circumstance as the mere absence of music? when even metre he regards as not essential, and speaks of it as one of the
ἡδυσματα
of Poetic language.
33
He allows, indeed, that music is the most pleasurable of the
ἡδυσματα
, or seasonings, of Tragedy;
34
but, that he regarded it as less essential than metre, is evident from the place which he assigns it in his arrangement of the six parts of Tragedy according to the order of their importance;
35
for he there places it next before the
Oψις
, or Decoration, which he pronounces to be, of all the parts,
"the most foreign to the Poet's art :"
ήκιστα δικειον της ποιητικης
.
36
On the other hand, the circumstance of Narration in the person of the Poet he every where seems to make an essential mark of distinction between the Epic and the Dramatic Poem:
37
so that, in order to avoid making him absolutely inconsistent with himself, we must be obliged to suppose, with the commentators, that he uses the word
Ἑποποϊία in two senses, here, in its general
and etymological sense, that of imitating, or making, by words, and every where else in the common and limited sense of narrative imitation.
38
The first of these must be considered as a mere proposal: we must understand Aristotle to say no more than this—that some common term, to include all compositions imitating by words only, was wanted, and that the term, Epopæia, was best adapted to that purpose. In the rest of his treatise he conforms to the established ideas and language.
39
This, however, is by no means satisfactory.
It still remains, I confess, no inconsiderable difficulty with me, to conceive, that Aristotle should, by applying the term
Εποποἰα to all imitative writing, whether of a narrative or dramatic form, without music, give it an extension inconsistent, as it seems, with his own principles, and confounding those distinctions, which, in his own view, were the most essential. If he had meant so to apply the term in the passage before us, he would, surely, have been more explicit, and, where, after this passage, he first mentioned the Epopæia in the usual sense, would have added some words of limitation and distinction to prevent confusion. But this he has not done. Though evidently speaking of the heroic and narrative Epic, he calls it only,
ἡ Εποποιία;
as if no other application of the word had been mentioned.
Of the MIMES of SOPHRON we can acquire but a very imperfect idea, either from what is said of them in ancient authors, or from the fragments that are preserved in Athenæus, Demetrius, and others. It has even been long disputed among the learned, whether they were prose or verse; and, at last, it seems to be settled, that they were neither; a kind of compromise comfortable enough to the disputants on both sides; for if the fragments are something between verse and prose, they, who assert them to be either, are something between right and wrong. I shall not enter into this discussion; but refer the reader to the remarks of the learned
Valckenaer on the argument of the
Αδωνιαζεσαι of Theocritus
; where he will find some curious and uncommon information upon this subject.
40
That these compositions, however, were either a species of the drama, or, at least, dialogues in the dramatic form, there seems to be no doubt.
41
Dacier, indeed, asserts, that they were, like the Epic Poem,
"une imitation composée de narration et d'action."
But he produces no proof of this, nor do I know of any. I must farther observe, that, supposing what is related, of the fondness of Plato for the Mimes of Sophron, and of their having been his model in the
μιμησις προσωπων
of his own dialogues, to be true, it may reasonably be inferred, that we ought by no means to confound them with the Roman Mimes, or to apply to them, as is too often done, all that is said of the latter by Diomedes, and other writers of that age. Such licentious and obscene trash would not, surely, have been found under the pillow of the moral and reforming Plato; and that,
όλοῳ ἐπι γηρα ἐδῳ,
and, as some assert, even in the hour of death.
42
In saying this, however, I do not forget, that delicacy is not to be sought for even in the strictest morality of ancient times. For the best idea that can now be formed of the manner of this famous mimographer, we must have recourse, I believe, to the
fifteenth Idyl of Theocritus
43
, which, as we are informed in the MS. argument found by Ruhnkenius in the royal library at Paris, is an imitation of a Mime of Sophron upon a similar subject.
44
A more exact piece of natural delineation cannot be imagined. It is not, indeed,
la belle nature; it is the nature of common and simple, or, as some affect to call it, of low, life; but copied with so close and faithful a pencil, that, to every reader accustomed, in any degree, to observe the manners of mankind in general, and whose taste is not perverted by affectation, or fettered by rule, the truth and reality of the imitation will, I believe, amply compensate for the want of dignity in the thing imitated. To those who receive no pleasure from this source, I would
rather recommend the
belle nature of Pope's Pastorals, or the still finer nature of Fontenelle's. I would only observe farther, that this imitation of Sophron is in the strict dramatic form and that it contains nothing in the least degree indecent, or disgusting.
Of the
ΛΟΓΟΙ ΣΩΚΡΑΤΙΚΟΙ
, by which, undoubtedly, Aristotle meant chiefly, if not solely, the DIALOGUES of PLATO, I shall only observe, that they have all, in a high degree, the dramatic and imitative spirit, and that by far the greater part of them are in the unmixed dramatic form, so as to admit of representation;
45
and it, accordingly, appears from Plutarch, that those of the lighter cast among them were sometimes performed by boys, as an entertainment, at the Symposia of the Romans in his time.
46
7.
mvp-aristotle-comment-7
NOTE 7.
1.10
P. 3. CONNECTING THE POETRY, OR MAKING, WITH THE METRE.
Συναπτοντες τῳ μετρῳ το ποιειν.
—Not,
"on applique au vers seul l'idée qu'on a de la Poesie,"
as
M. Batteux
renders it, but, as it is translated by
Piccolomini
, with his usual exactness—
"congiugnendo il verbo, Ποιειν, [Poiein, cio é fare,] con la qualità del metro."
I understand Aristotle's expression to mean, not the connection of the general idea of Poetry with that of Verse, though this indeed be implied; but, the junction of the word,
ποιειν
, with the name of some particular metre, in the compound words,
Ελεγειοποιοι
,
Εποποιοι
, and the like.
8.
mvp-aristotle-comment-8
NOTE 8. P. 4.
1.11
TREATISES OF MEDICINE OR NATURAL PHILOSOPHY IN VERSE.
Two Poems of Empedocles—that concerning Nature, and his Expiations—contained together, according to
Diog. Laertius
, five thousand hexameters, and another, on the subject of Medicine, six hundred.—
τα μεν ἐν περι ΦΥΣΕΩΣ αυτῳ και δι Καθαρμοι, ἐἰς ἐπη τεινεσι πεντακισχίλια, ὁ δε ΙΑΤΡΙΚΟΣ λογώ, ἐἰς ἑπη ἑξακοσια
[End of the Life of Empedocles.]
This, by the way, confirms the emendation of
Heinsius
—
φυσικον
, for
μεσικον
.
47
Nothing, I believe, is known of any ancient Poem on the subject of Music.
The earliest philosophy was natural philosophy, and the earliest vehicle of that philosophy was verse.
Orpheus
,
Hesiod
,
Parmenides
,
Xenophanes
,
Empedocles
, and
Thales
, are all mentioned by
Plutarch
as poet-philosophers of this kind. Pythagoras is said to have written a Poem
On the Universe, in hexameters. This measure was, at least, suited to the dignity of philosophical speculation. We cannot say so much of the verse chosen by Epicharmus for the vehicle of a treatise
Concerning sensible and intellectual objects—
Περι των αισθητων και νοητων
part of which is quoted by
Diog. Laertius in his life of Plato
. It was written in the Trochaic tetrameter, a very unphilosophical measure, if rightly characterized by Aristotle, who gives it the epithets of
τροχερον ὀρκησικον ΚΟΡΔΑΚΙΚΩΤΕΡΟΝ
.
48
An English reader would be surprised, on opening a didactic and philosophical Poem, to find it written in the measure of
"Jolly mortals, fill your glasses,"
&c.
9.
mvp-aristotle-comment-9
NOTE 9.
1.11
P. 4. HOMER AND EMPEDOCLES HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON BUT THEIR METRE.
In his book
De Poetis, Aristotle spoke somewhat differently. He there said, as cited by
Diog. Laertius
,
"that Empedocles resembled Homer in the beauty of his DICTION; abounding in metaphors, and making a happy use of the other embellishments of Poetic language."
49
It does not seem easy to make this perfectly consistent with what he here asserts that Empedocles had nothing in common with Homer but his metre. He meant, I suppose, no more, than that Empedocles had nothing of the true Poetic character of Homer, his invention, imitation, &c. But he certainly has said more.
10.
mvp-aristotle-comment-10
NOTE 10.
1.12
P. 4. SO, ALSO, THOUGH ANY ONE SHOULD CHUSE TO CONVEY HIS IMITATION IN EVERY KIND OF METRE, &C.
The conjecture of
Heinsius
, who contended, that
ἐκ ήδη και ποιητην προσαγορευτεον
—should be read interrogatively, I have re-
jected, because the sense it gives the passage appears to me to be trifling. It makes Aristotle say—
"If Poets are to be denominated from their metre, what name is to be given to him, who writes a Poem in all sorts of metre? You cannot call him an
Εποποιον
, an
Ιαμβοποιον
, &c. Is he, therefore, not to be called a Poet at all, because you cannot call him the Poet, or Maker, of this or that particular metre?"
—But the answer to this would surely be obvious:
"We cannot, it is true, call him any one of these, exclusively; we call him all these; he is the Poet of every metre, in which he composes; and, in our ideas, the more a Poet, in proportion to the number of the different measures, of which he shews himself a master."
—I must also remark, that, in this way of understanding the passage, the word,
ὁμοἰως
, is not accounted for, nor fairly rendered, I think, either in the version of
Heinsius
, or in any of those that follow him.
I have, also, rejected the reading of
Victorius
—
ΟΥ ποιοιτο την μιμησιν
; because it appears to me, that the phrase will not admit of the sense, in which it is rendered, of not imitating at all. It is observed by
Victorius
himself, that the phrase,
ποιεισθαι την μιμησιν
, is never used by Aristotle as equivalent to
μιμείσθαι
only, but always where he is speaking of the means, or manner, by, or in, which, the imitation is made. Thus,
ch. i.
—
ΠΟΙΟΥΝΤΑΙ την μιμησιν ΕΝ ΡΥΘΜΩΙ και ΛΟΓΩΙ και ΑΡΜΟΝΙΑΙ.
—Again—
ΔΙΑ ΤΡΙΜΕΤΡΩΝ κ. τ. αλ. ΠΟΙΟΙΤΟ την μιμησιν.
And, at the end,
EN ΟΙΣ ΠΟΙΟΥΝΤΑΙ την μιμησιν
—
"the different means, by which they form or execute their imitation."
Thus, too,
ch. xxiv.
ἐι γαρ τις ΕΝ ΑΛΛΩΙ ΤΙΝΙ ΜΕΤΡΩΙ διηγηματικην μιμησιν ΠΟΙΟΙTO.
—
ch. vi.
EN ΤΟΥΤΟΙΣ [sc. μελοποιίᾳ και λεξει] ΠΟΙΟΥΝΤΑΙ την μίμησιν.
So ibid. with a participle—
ΠΡΑΤΤΟΝΤΕΣ ΠΟΙΟΥΝΤΑΙ την μιμησιν
—as in the passage before us,
άπαντα τα μετρα ΜΙΓΝΥΩΝ ΠΟΙΟΙΤΟ την μιμησιν.
—The construction and the sense are the same, when the same mode of expression is applied to other subjects; as,
cap. iv.
—
τας μαθησεις ΠΟΙΕΙΤΑΙ ΔΙΑ ΜΙΜΗΣΕΩΣ
—And,
Rhet. lib. i. cap. i. sect. 3.
ΔΙΑ ΤΩΝ ΚΟΙΝΩΝ ΠΟΙΕΙΣΘΑΙ τας πίστις και τες λόγες
i. e.
"to argue through the medium of common and popular truths."
—I do not know of any instance, in which
ποιείσθαι την μιμησιν
is used in any other way, or put simply for
μιμείσθαι
. I cannot, for example, conceive, that Aristotle, instead of,
το τε γαρ ΜΙΜΕΙΣΘΑΙ συμφυτον τοις ἀνθρωποις,
(
cap. iv.
) would have written—
το τε γαρ ΠΟΙΕΙΣΘΑΙ ΜΙΜΗΣΙΝ συμφυτον, &c.
It appears to me, that, whether the phrase be used positively, or negatively, some imitation is equally implied, and this sentence—
τις άπαντα τα μετρα μιγνύων ΟΥ ποιοιτο ΤΗΝ μιμησιν
—I should by no means think it accurate to translate—
"If any one, mixing all sorts of metre, should not imitate;"
but, (to construe literally for the sake of clearness,)
"if any one should not make THE, (or, which is the same thing, HIS) imitation by mixing all sorts of metre."
This, I confess, appears clearly to me to be the fair English of that Greek; but as this certainly cannot be the meaning of Aristotle here, I must abandon the reading which gives it, and content myself with following that explanation, which is encumbered with the fewest difficulties.
50
The sense, in this way, does not materially differ from that, which is given to the passage by those who adopt the reading of
Victorius
. The word,
ὁμοιως
, has thus its proper force. So has,
ἐκ ΗΔΗ, ΚΑΙ ποιητην προσαγορευτεον.
As if Aristotle had said—
"Such a writer we might, certainly, on the first glance, call, a versifier—a metre-maker—
ἐποποιον
,
ἐλεγειοποιον
, &c. but we should not immediately (
ΗΔΗ), merely on account of the variety of his versification, allow him also the title of Poet—
ΚΑΙ ποιητην προσαγορευτεον
.”
I must, however, be again permitted to declare my doubt, as to the integrity of the text.
11.
mvp-aristotle-comment-11
NOTE 11.
1.12
P. 4. AS CHÆREMON HAS DONE IN HIS CENTAUR.
From some curious fragments of this Poet preserved, or, rather, half-preserved, in
Athenæus
, his genius appears to have been of a gay and voluptuous cast, and to have delighted in minute description of pleasurable objects. In the lines quoted by
Athenæus
from his Tragedy of
Æneus, which are a description of a group of beautiful virgins sporting by moon-light, there is certainly some fancy, and some elegance; but, of that kind, the effect of which is, perhaps, somewhat counteracted by too much appearance of affectation and research. And this corresponds with the character given of this Poet by Aristotle, in his
Rhetoric [lib. iii. cap. xii.]
that he was,
ἀκριβης ώσπερ λογογραφος
; and of that class of Poets, whom he calls
ἀναγνωστικοι
; that is, whose productions, as we commonly express it, read better than they act; are more adapted to the closet, than to the stage.
The ancient Poets, both Greek and Roman, were often, I believe, indebted, for their descriptive ideas, to Painting, or Sculpture. This passage of Chæremon is certainly very picturesque, and was, probably, suggested by some painting on the same subject.
Athenæus
says of this Poet, that he was particularly fond of dwelling upon the description of flowers—
ἐπικαταφορῶ ἐπι τα άνθη
51
; and cites some lines of that kind from his Tragedies. In his
CENTAUR, which
Athenæus
calls
δραμα πολυμετρον
, we must understand, that even the dialogue was in various metres; for in the choral parts this would have been no innovation.
12.
mvp-aristotle-comment-12
NOTE 12.
2.2
P. 68. POLYGNOTUS—PAUSON—DIONYSIUS.
Polygnotus and Pauson are also mentioned by Aristotle in his
8th book De Rep. cap. v.
where, speaking of Painting with a view to education, he says, that
"young men should not be permitted to contemplate the works of PAUSON, but those only of POLYGNOTUS, and of other artists who excelled in moral expression."
52
It seems probable, from this passage, that the pictures of Pauson were not only of a ludicrous, but also of a licentiousness cast. To what a degree the abuse of this art was carried in Aristotle's time, appears from another passage, [
Rep. lib. vii. cap. xvii.
] in which he says, the magistrate should suffer no
"licentious and indecent paintings or statues,"
such as would endanger the morals of youth: but the exception that follows is curious;—
"Unless,"
he adds,
"in the temples of some DEITIES OF THAT CHARACTER, whose legal and established worship consists in ludicrous and wanton rites."
53
While I am upon this subject, I cannot forbear adding a singular passage of
Euripides
, where
Hippolytus
, vindicating himself, and asserting his chastity, says, with a naïveté that, I fear, would hardly be received with decent gravity by a modern audience;—
Λεχους γαρ, ἐις τοδ᾽ ἡμερας, ἁγνον δεμας. Ουκ οἰδα ΠΡΑΞΙΝ ΤΗΝΔΕ, πλην λόγῳ κλύων, ΓΡΑΦΗΙ ΤΕ ΛΕΥΣΣΩΝ· οὐδε ταυτα γαρ σκοπειν Προθυμα ειμι, ΠΑΡΘΕΝΟΝ ΨΥΧΗΝ ἐχων
Hippol. v. 1003.
I am a stranger to the couch of love;
Nor know I of its rites more than the tale
May have informed me, or the Painter's pencil
Presented to mine eye; yet on such picture
Dwells not mine eye delighted, for my mind
[Mr. Potter's Translation, v. 1060.]
The Pauson mentioned by Aristotle was probably the same painter, whose poverty only is recorded by
Suidas
, and of whose wit we have a curious specimen in
Ælian
.
54
OF DIONYSIUs, too, very little is known. That he excelled in natural representation and exact resemblance—in exhibiting men, such as he saw them, without ideal grace on the one hand, or exaggerated deformity on the other is known, I believe, only from this passage of Aristotle. Dacier says this account is confirmed by
Ælian
; but I think he is mistaken. It appears to me, that the
μεγεθα
of which
Ælian
speaks, as the only difference between the paintings of Polygnotus and those of Dionysius, is literal, not figurative, magnitude.
55
He says only, that the pictures of Dionysius, except, that they were on a small scale, were exact imitations of Polygnotus, in the expression of passions and manners, the attitudes of the figures, the lightness and transparency of the draperies, and every other circumstance.
56
It is not easy to see how Dionysius could copy so exactly,
ἐἰς ἀκριβειαν
, the expre-
sion, and the forms, or attitudes, of Polygnotus, without copying, at the same time, his greatness of manner, and his improvement of that nature which he imitated;
57
for these seem entirely to depend upon those two circumstances, the expression of the countenance, and the airs and attitudes of the figures.
It seems, therefore, doubtful, whether Aristotle and
Ælian
speak of the same person. There must, in all probability, have been more painters than one, of that name; which was so common, that the writers so called, alone, furnished
Meursius
with matter for a whole book.—The pictures of Dionysius the Colophonion are mentioned by
Plutarch
as being painted with considerable strength of pencil, [
ίσχυν ἐχοντα και τονον
,] but in a manner which appeared forced and laboured, [
εκβεβιασμενον
,] and which he opposes to the freedom and facility of
Nicomachus
, who seems to have been the
Fà Presto of the ancient painters.
58
This fault, so likely to be that of the artist who aims at an exact and scrupulous resemblance of the nature that is before his eyes, may, perhaps, afford some presumption, that
Plutarch
and Aristotle speak of the same painter.
What Aristotle says of these three styles of picturesque imitation, is easily applied to modern times. The productions, indeed, of these ancient artists, were perishable and of short duration;—
At "genus immortale manet:"
these specific characters have subsisted, and probably will subsist, in every period of the art. For the name of
Polygnotus
, it is obvious enough to substitute that of
RAPHAEL
, or other masters of the higher Italian schools.
"When a man,"
says
Mr. Richardson
, with that simplicity of enthusiasm,
which gives so amusing a singularity to his writings
59
—
"When a man enters into that awful gallery at Hampton-court,
60
he finds himself amongst a sort of people superior to what he has ever seen, and very probably to what those really were."
This is exactly the
βελτιονας καθ ἡμας
of Aristotle.
"Michael Angelo,"
says the same author,
"no where saw such living figures as he cut in marble."
—The Flemish and Dutch schools will supply plenty of substitutes for the Dionysii of ancient painting—those, who, like
Protogenes
,
"in picturâ verum esse, non verisimile, volunt."
62
Rembrandt
must occur to every body. Even
Rubens
"took his figures too much from the people before him."
63
As for the Pausons, the buffoons of the art, they are to be seen in the windows of every print-shop. We must not, however, confound with these
"Tom Browns of the mob,"
as
Mr. Walpole
calls them, the moral humour of
Hogarth
, or the sportive, but harmless, exaggerations of
Mr. Bunbury
.
Hogarth
, indeed, in general, and in his greatest works, seems rather to belong to the highest class of the exact imitators of vulgar nature—
των ΦΑΥΛΩΝ
. His
Country-dance, however, may be mentioned as an example, and an admirable one, of exaggerated comic imitation, in which men are made, in some degree at least,
"worse than they are"
—
XEΙΡΟΥΣ ἐκαζε
. And if any man can look at this
print, or at the
Family-piece, the
Coffee-house Patriots, or the
Long Story, of
Mr. Bunbury
, without feeling a high degree of that pleasure which arises from the perception of strong humour, he must, I think, be still more unprovided with a sense of the ridiculous, than even that
Crassus
, who is recorded to have laughed once, though once only, in his life.
64
13.
mvp-aristotle-comment-13
NOTE 13.
2.4
P. 68. WITH THE MUSIC OF THE FLUTE AND OF THE LYRE.
Thus
PLATO
, in the very language of Aristotle,—
τα περι της ρυθμες και πασαν μεσικην ἐσι τροπων μιμηματα ΒΕΛΤΙΟΝΩΝ και ΧΕΙΡΟΝΩΝ ΑΝΘΡΩΠΩΝ
. A modern reader, that is, a person who reads an antient author with modern ideas, might be inclined to to ask, how men are to be represented as better, or worse, than they are, or how, indeed, represented at all, in a harpsichord lesson, or a solo for a German flute? But the same reader, supposing him in any degree conversant with music, would surely be at no loss to conceive, that it admits of the difference of serious and comic expression; and admits of it in various degrees, from the highest elevation and dignity of style, down to the coarse and vulgar jollity of the gavot, or the hornpipe. Now the meaning of Aristotle, put into modern musical language, amounts, I apprehend, to no more than that. Suppose, then, the music, in these different styles, to be accompanied by words, relating the actions, or imitating the speech, of low, or elevated characters; we might say, that the music was expressive of such actions, or characters; the antients would have said, that it imitated them. On the contrary, suppose this music merely instrumental, we should, in general, only say, that it was grand, and sublime, or comic, mean, vulgar, &c. But the antients, from the close, and almost inseparable connection of
their Music with Poetry, and particularly with the most imitative sort of Poetry, the Dramatic
65
; and partly, also, from the nature of their Music itself, would, in this case likewise, have retained much the same language, and would have considered this Music as imitative of the manners and passions of exalted, or vulgar characters, or even as representing those characters themselves.—But the different ideas, or rather, the different language, of the antients and the moderns on this subject, I have considered more fully, and endeavoured to account for, in the
Second Dissertation
.
66
14.
mvp-aristotle-comment-14
NOTE 14.
2.5
P. 68. CLEOPHON, AS THEY ARE.—
It may be worth while to remark, that the character Aristotle gives of the diction of Cleophon—that it was of the common and familiar kind, without Poetic elevation
67
—corresponds with the account here given of the general object of his Poetry, the exact delineation of common nature and common life. He who means to represent men as they are, will also, of course, represent their language nearly as it is.
The only Poet of this name, of whom, I believe, any account is given, is recorded as a Tragic Poet
68
: but Aristotle undoubtedly alludes here to a Poem of the narrative kind. In another part of his works he mentions a Poem of Cleophon, called
MANDRABULUS.
69
From the proverbial expression—
ἐπι Μανδραβέλε χωρει το πραγμα
(
"worse and worse, like the affairs of Mandrabulus"—
)
in
Lucian
,
70
and the account of its origin in
Suidas
,
71
and
Hesychius
, it seems very improbable that the Poem was a Tragedy. We may rather conclude it to have been of a comic cast; and it seems no unreasonable conjecture, to suppose, that it might be of the narrative kind; modelled, perhaps, in some respects, upon the
MARGITES of
Homer
. At least, the two heroes seem to have been of kindred characters.
15.
mvp-aristotle-comment-15
NOTE 15.
2.5
P. 68. HEGEMON INVENTOR OF PARODIES.
See
Athenæus, p. 698, 699
, and
406, 407
. And
Fabric. Biblioth. Gr. lib. ii. cap. vii.
—The Athenians were delighted with this sort of fun—of all expedients to raise a laugh, the cheapest, and, at the same time, the most infallible.
HOMER
was the great and inexhaustible resource of these Parodists. The best and most considerable specimen remaining, of this kind of Poem, seems to be the Homeric description of an Attic supper by Matron, a great Parodist, and a great eater, in
Athenæus, lib. iv. cap. v.
Isaac Casaubon calls it,
"Carmen ingeniosum, et leporis ac venustatis plenissimum."
The first three lines may serve as a specimen:—
Δείπνα μοι ἐννεπε, Μεσα, πολυτροφα και μάλα πολλα
72
, Ἃ Ξενοκλης ῥητωρ ἐν Αθηναις δενπνισεν ἡμας, Ηλθον γαρ κέμκεισε, πολυς δε μοι ἐσπετο λιμα.
73
The Poem, it must be confessed, has some pleasantry, and much dexterity of comical perversion. We cannot wonder at its effect
upon a people, who had all
Homer
in their memories. It is easy to conceive the roar of the Athenian upper gallery, when, in the description of the cook, bringing in the supper, they heard this line:
Τῳ δ' αρα τεσσερακοντα μελαιναι ΧΥΤΡΑΙ ἑποντος.
74
Sometimes the Parody depended on a pun; of which
Athenæus
gives, with great complacence, a curious example, in a scrap from a Parody of
Eubæus
, describing a quarrel between a barber and a potter. The barber, whose wife, it seems, the other attempts to force from him, addresses the potter in the language of Nestor:—
Μητε συ τονδ , ἀγαθα περ ἐων, ἀποαιρεο ΚΟΥΡΗΝ, Μητε συ, ΠΗΛΕΙΔΗ.
See IL. L. 275, &c.
—where the joke depends on the allusion to
ΠΗΛΟΣ
, mud, or clay; and, probably, to the trade of the speaker, in the word
κερην
; or, perhaps, to the instrument of his art, which we may suppose the actor of the Parody to have brandished at his adversary.—But I do not mean to take to myself the honour of this illustration of an Attic joke. It is to be found in the
Poetics of J. C. Scaliger
.—See
Athen. p. 699. B.
16.
mvp-aristotle-comment-16
NOTE 16.
The conjecture of
Castelvetro
,
την ΔΕΙλιαδα
, (which might be rendered,
The Poltroniad
,) was certainly ingenious, but, I think, unnecessary.
Dacier's
account is probably right; and both his idea, and the common reading, seem to receive some support from the similar national titles that are preserved of other pieces of this Poet; such as,
Κρητες
,
Λάκωνες
,
Λημνιαι
.—See
Suidas
and
Fabricius
.
17.
mvp-aristotle-comment-17
NOTE 17.
2.6
P. 68. SO, AGAIN, WITH RESPECT TO DITHYRAMBICS AND NOMES.
The expression, in this passage, is too general, and too little is known of the examples mentioned in it, to admit of perfect satisfaction, with respect to any thing farther than its general meaning; i. e. that both Dithyrambic and Nomic Poetry admitted the same differences in the objects of their imitation. For so, I think, the sense requires us to understand
75
; not, that the imitation of heroic characters was appropriated to the one, and that of light characters to the other. Both these species of Poetry were hymns; and though the Dithyrambic, or hymn to Bacchus, might, indeed, from its wild and free character, be privileged with a greater latitude and variety of imitation, yet I know of no authority that will warrant our going so far, as to suppose, that they were essentially distinguished from each other in this respect, like Tragedy and Comedy.
The construction of the Greek I understand to be this:—
μιμησαιτο ἂν τις, ὡς Τιμοθεού και Φιλοξενο [sc. ἐμιμησαντο] Περσας και Κυκλωπας
. I am astonished, that any commentators should have taken either of the compositions here mentioned for dramas; an idea totally repugnant to the plain sense of the whole passage, and to the evident purpose for which these examples are cited. With respect to the
Περσαι
, the passage of
Pausanias
may be regarded as decisive;—
Πυλαδε ἀδοντο Τιμόθεει ΝΟΜΟΝ, τε Μιλησία, ΠΕΡΣΑΣ
Paus. Arcad.
—And the Poem began with an hexameter verse which is there quoted. Yet
Fabricius
calls it a Tragedy.
The Poem of
Philoxenus
here meant must, clearly, have been either a Nome, or a Dithyrambic Poem; most probably, the latter.
Philoxenus
is recorded as a Dithyrambic Poet; and Aristotle's illustration will be more complete, if we understand him to exemplify in each of the kinds of Poetry in question. It is by no means certain, that the
Cyclops of
Philoxenus
mentioned by
Athenæus
,
Ælian
, and others, is the piece here alluded to: and, if it were, which, undoubtedly, appears rather probable, I know of no sufficient proof that it was a Drama, as it has been repeatedly called. If
Ælian
is to be regarded, it certainly was not; for he calls it
μελος
—a term appropriated to Lyric Poetry.—
του ΚΥΚΛΩΠΑ ἐργασατο, των ἑαυτε ΜΕΛΩΝ το καλλισον
.
76
I mentioned, in the conclusion of
NOTE 1
. a problem of Aristotle, from which it appears, that the Dithyrambic Poetry was not originally imitative, but became so by degrees. It is the 15th of the Harmonic Problems, Sect. 19. It is there said, that the Dithyrambs, after they became imitative, laid aside the antistrophical form, (i. e. the division into corresponding stanzas
77
,) in which, before, they had been composed.
78
And the reason assigned for this is, that, originally, these Dithyrambic hymns were performed by chorusses of gentlemen, [
ἐλευθερο
] who could not sing in the style of artists, and professors: [
ἀγωνιστικως οἶδειν
:] the words were, therefore, set to the simplest kind of melody,
79
such as that, in which the same air is repeated to similar
stanzas, as in our ballads.
80
But afterwards, it seems, the performance of these hymns, like that of the Nomes, was left to professed musicians, the
ἀγωνισαι
, or masters of the art, who contended with each other in trials of skill, and who were, of course, to exert all their imitative powers. The symmetry of strophe and antistrophe, and the simplicity of air regularly repeated, were ill adapted to this purpose, which required length, variety, and frequent changes of metre, melody, rhythm, mode, genus, &c.
81
in conformity to the various subjects of imitation, and transitions of expression.
82
This account, which affords some little glimpse of curious information, with respect both to the Nomic and Dithyrambic hymn, is confirmed, as far as the latter is concerned, by
Dionysius Halicarn. De Structura Orat. Sect. 19
. He there traces the progress of all this Lyric corruption, and names
TIMOTHEUS
and
PHILOXENUS
as the principal authors of these licentious and wicked innovations—
"for, in the time of the old Poets,"
he says,
"the Dithyrambic ode was an orderly and regular composition."
83
Plutarch
, too, in the Dialogue
Περι Μεσικης
, speaks exactly the same language.
Timotheus
and
Philoxenus
are there repeatedly stigmatized as corrupters of the good old music; and the
ладаρειο
and
Σιμονίδειο τροπο
, is opposed to the
Φιλοξενεις
,
84
with a zeal similar to that, with which, in modern music, we sometimes hear the style of
Corelli
and
Geminiani
opposed and preferred to the heterodox novelties of
Haydn
and
Boccherini
.
85
The manner, in which Aristotle, in this Problem, speaks of the Nomes, when compared with his expressions relative to the Dithyrambics, rather leads one to suppose, that the former were not, even originally, composed in the antistrophic form
86
: the least, however, that can be inferred from it, is, that they discarded that form, and, consequently, became complicated, artificial, and imitative, long before a similar revolution took place in the Dithyrambic Poetry and Music. I may, also, observe that the variety of imitation, and changes of expression, clearly attributed by Aristotle to the Nomes, seem to confirm what I said above—that they did not exclude the same variety, in the objects of their imitation, which the Dithyrambic Poem confessedly admitted.
I will just add, that this Problem of Aristotle throws light upon a passage in his
Rhetoric
, which has embarrassed his commentators. He there [
lib. iii. cap. 9.
] compares the diction that is divided into periods, to the Antistrophic Odes
"of the old Poets:"
but, the
λεξις ειρομενη
, in which the sentence has no other unity than that which copulatives give it
87
, nor any other measure than the completion of the sense, and the necessity of taking breath
88
, or, as
Cicero
, in few words, so admirably describes it,
"illa sine intervallis loquacitas perennis et profluens"
89
—this Aristotle compares to what he calls the
αναβολαι
in Dithyrambic Poetry; meaning, I think, evidently, the long, irregular, protracted Odes of the more modern Dithyrambic Poets; such as those, of which he speaks in the Problem. For the word,
Αναβολη
, here, does not, I believe, signify exordium, proæmium, as usually understood, but was, probably, the name by which these
ὠδαι μακραι και πολυειδεις
were distinguished, and opposed to the old and simple Dithyrambic in stanzas.
18.
mvp-aristotle-comment-18
NOTE 18.
3.2
P. 68. EITHER IN NARRATION, AND THAT, AGAIN, EITHER, &C.
It may safely be pronounced, that the original here, either is not as Aristotle left it, or, was carelessly and ambiguously written. As the ambiguity, however, does not affect the general sense of the passage, it is scarcely worth while to engage in a minute discussion of the comparative merits of the two different constructions, which have been adopted by different commentators and translators. The learned reader knows, or may see, what has been said on both sides. I have preferred that construction, which has always appeared to me to result most obviously and naturally from the words of the original.—
ἐν τοις αυτοις, και τα αυτα μιμεισθαι ἐσιν, ότε μεν ΑΠΑΓΓΕΛΛΟΝΤΑ ( ἑτερον τι γιγνομενον, ώσπερ Ομηρου ποιει, ὡς τον αυτον, και μη μεταβαλλοντα,) η παντας ὡς ΠΡΑΤΤΟΝΤΑΣ και ἐνεργεντας τις μιμεμένες
.
In the other, and most usual way of taking this passage, the mixture of mere narration, and dramatic imitation, in the Epic species, is expressed by the words,
ότε μεν ἀπαγγελλοντα, ἕτερον τε γιγνομενον
. But it seems not likely, that Aristotle would thus oppose the word
ἀπαγγελλοντα
, to
ἕτερον τε γιγνομενον
; because the term,
ἀπαγγελια
, is constantly applied by him, throughout the treatise, to the narrative species in general: it is opposed, not to the dramatic part of the Epic, but to the drama itself.
Απαγγελια
and
διηγησις
, are used by him as synonymous terms, and are both applied to the whole of the Homeric, or dramatic, Epic Poem.
90
On the other hand, the words—
ΕΤΕΡΟΝ τι γιγνομενου
—seem evidently opposed to
ὡς ΤΟΝ ΑΥΤΟΝ και μη μεταβαλλοντα
, and should, therefore, be joined with them, not with
ἀπαγγελλοντα
.—Lastly, in this way of understanding the passage, Aristotle divides the different manners of imitation, as he might naturally be expected to divide them, into those which characterize the two great and principal species, of which he means to treat—the NARRATIVE and the DRAMATIC. The two different modes of the former, i, e. the pure narrative, and the dramatic narrative, are, with more propriety than in the other construction, (in bis view of the subject, at least,) flung into a subdivision.
In either construction, however, Aristotle agrees with
Plato
in enumerating three kinds of Poetry, the purely dramatic, the purely narrative, and the mixed.
91
But the generality of the commentators seem, too hastily, to have taken it for granted, that Aristotle must therefore necessarily enumerate them in the same manner; and they have, accordingly, moulded the flexible and ambiguous construction of this passage, exactly upon the division of
Plato
.
92
I was glad to find myself supported here by the judgment of the accurate
Piccolomini
, whose version coincides with mine.—
In UN MODO, per via di narratione, e questo, ò ponendo se steslo alle volte il Poeta in persona d'altri, come få Homero, over conservando sempre la propria persona non mutata mai. Nel ALTRO MODO poi, introducendo persone à trattare et negotiare, come se le stesse persone che sono imitate, fuffero.
With respect to the imitation here expressly allowed by Aristotle to subsist even in mere narration, without the intermixture of any thing dramatic,
see Diff. I. p. 26
. I agree perfectly with
Mr. Winstanley
, that his emendations are not necessary.
19.
mvp-aristotle-comment-19
NOTE 19.
3.4
P. 69. ELEVATED CHARACTERS
Gr.
ΣΠΟΥΔΑΙΟΥΣ. The adjective
Σπουδαιοι
, and its opposite,
Φαυλος
, are words of considerable latitude. They, each of them, comprehend a number of different, though related, ideas, for which we have not, that I know of, any common word. Propriety itself, therefore, requires of a translator that, which, at first view, seems contrary to propriety—that he should render each of those words differently in different places. To have translated
σπεδαίες
here,
"good,"
or
"virtuous,"
as it may generally be translated, would only have been giving an English word with a Greek idea, which none but readers of Greek would have affixed to it.
The Greeks appear to have applied the word,
ΣΠΟΥΔΑΙΟΝ
, to whatever was, on any account,
ἀξιων σπεδης
—whatever was respectable, important, admirable, serious, valuable, &c. as opposed to
ΦΑΥΛΟΝ
, which was applied, not to vice only, but to whatever was contemptible, trifling, light, ordinary, ridiculous—or, as we say in familiar English, good for nothing.
93
Hence the various senses of both these words in the Greek writers, according as they were applied to persons, and things, that were the objects of esteem, or contempt, on different accounts. Sometimes, therefore,
σπεδαίο
may be rendered by
"good;"
sometimes by
"serious, earnest,"
&c.—Sometimes, as in this passage, and in the definition of Tragedy, by
"elevated,"
"important,"
&c.
94
Some kind of virtue, in the extended sense given to the word
ΑΡΕΤΗ
by the ancient writers on morals, was, indeed, always implied in the epithet
Σπεδαι
; but it included such good qualities, and endowments, as we do not usually call virtues; or, at least, such as we never include in our idea of a virtuous man: as, wisdom, courage, eloquence, &c.
95
—Thus Aristotle himself;
το δε ΣΠΟΥΔΑΙΟΝ είναι, εστι το ΤΑΣ ΑΡΕΤΑΣ ἐχειν
.
96
And what are these virtues?—they are
"all laudable habits."
—
των ἐξεων τας ΕΠΑΙΝΕΤΑΣ, ΑΡΕΤΑΣ λεγομεν
.
97
The subject of Criticism is necessarily connected, in some degree, with that of Ethics; and unless we understand well the moral language of any writer, we cannot be competent judges of his criticism.
20.
mvp-aristotle-comment-20
NOTE 20.
3.5
P. 69. IN SUPPORT OF THESE CLAIMS THEY ARGUE FROM THE WORDS THEMSELVES.
Ποιεμενοι τα ὀνοματα σημειον
.—The participle,
ποιεμενοι
, should be applied, I think, to all the Dorians—not confined, as in Dacier's translation, to those of Peloponnesus. See
Goulston's
version, which appears to me to be right.
Aristotle begins by saying expressly, that the Dorians, in general, laid claim to both Tragedy and Comedy, on account of the term
ΔΡΑΜΑ
, which was a Doric word:—
∆ΙΟ
(i. e. from the term
Δραματα
, just before mentioned,)
ἀντιποιενται της τε Τραγωδίας και της Κωμωδίας ΟΙ ΔΩΡΙΕΙΣ
—He then mentions the peculiar claims of the Megarians to Comedy, and of the Dorians of Peloponnesus
to Tragedy; throwing in, parenthetically, some other arguments on which the former also founded their title to the invention of Comedy: after which, he returns, at the word
ποιεμένοι
, to shew, how these people concurred in arguing from the etymology of the words themselves; all of them, from the word
δραμα
, as it was common to Tragedy and Comedy, and they, who laid claim to Comedy, both from that, and also from the derivation of the word
Κωμωδια
.
The construction, in this way, is, I confess, somewhat parenthetical and embarrassed; but the reader, who is accustomed to the style of Aristotle, will not, I believe, consider this as affording alone any sufficient presumption against the explanation here given.
21.
mvp-aristotle-comment-21
NOTE 21.
4.3
P. 70. THE FIGURES OF THE MEANEST AND MOST DISGUSTING ANIMALS.
Θηρίων τε μορφας των ΑΤΙΜΟΤΑΤΩΝ
.—This reading is strongly supported by the arguments of Victorius, the authority of MSS, and the sense and purport of the passage itself, which seems to require instances of mean, or disgusting, rather than of terrible, objects. Thus too
Plutarch
, in the passages referred to by Victorius, which undoubtedly allude to this of Aristotle.—
Γεγραμμένην ΣΑΥΡΑΝ η ΠΙΘΗΚΟΝ, ἰδοντες ήδομεθα και θαυμαζομεν, ουχ ὡς καλον, ἀλλ᾽ ὡς ὁμοιον ἐσιᾳ γαρ ἐ δυναται καλον γενέσθαι ΤΟ ΑΙΣΧΡΟΝ
κ. τ. αλ. And presently after—
και ΝΟΣΩΔΗ μεν ΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΝ, και ΥΠΟΥΛΟΝ,
ὡς ἀτερπες θεαμα, φευγομεν
κ. τ. αλ.—See also his
Sympos. Problems. lib. v. Prob. 1.
22.
mvp-aristotle-comment-22
NOTE 22.
4.4
P. 70. TO LEARN IS A NATURAL PLEASURE.
To the same purpose, in his
Rhetoric, lib. i. cap. xi. p. 537. Ed. Duval.
"Επει δε το ΜΑΝΘΑΝΕΙΝ τε ήδυ, και το θαυμάζειν, και τα τοιαυτα, ἀναγκη ήδεα ειναι, το τε μεμιμημενον, ώσπερ ΓΡΑΦΙΚΗ, και ΑΝΔΡΙΑΝΤΟΠΟΙΪΑ, και ΠΟΙΗΤΙΚΗ, και παν ὁ ἀν ἐυ μεμιμημενον , καν μη ή ήδὺ το μιμημα γαρ ἐπι τετῳ χαιρει, άλλα συλλογισμού ἐστι, ὅτι ΤΟΥΤΟ ΕΚΕΙΝΟ· ώστε ΜΑΝΘΑΝΕΙΝ τι συμβαινει."
98
"And as it is by nature delightful to LEARN, to ADMIRE, and the like, hence we necessarily receive pleasure from imitative arts, as PAINTING, SCULPTURE, and POETRY, and from whatever is well imitated, even though the original may be disagreeable; for our pleasure does not arise from the beauty of the thing itself, but from the inference the discovery, that 'THIS IS THAT,' &c. so that we seem to LEARN something."
—
Μανθανειν
to learn, to know, i. e. merely to recognize, discover, &c. See
Harris, On Music, Painting, &c. ch. iv. note (b)
. The meaning is sufficiently explained by what follows.
Dryden
, who scarce ever mentions Aristotle without discovering that he had looked only at the wrong side of the tapestry, says—
"Aristotle tells us, that imitation pleases because it affords matter for a rea-
99
soner to enquire into the truth or falsehood of imitation,"
&c.
100
But Aristotle is not here speaking of reasoners, or inquiry; but, on the contrary, of the vulgar, the generality of mankind, whom he expressly opposes to philosophers, or reasoners: and his
συλλογίζεσθαι
is no more than that rapid, habitual, and imperceptible act of the mind, that
"raisonnement aussi prompt que le coup d'œil,"
(as it is well paraphrased by
M. Batteux
,) by which we collect, or infer, from a comparison of the picture with the image of the original in our minds, that it was intended to represent that original.
The fullest illustration of this passage is to be found in another work of Aristotle, his
Rhetoric, lib. iii. cap. x.
,
101
where he applies the same principle to metaphorical language, and resolves the pleasure we receive from such language, into that which arises from the
μαθησις ΤΑΧEIA
—the exercise of our understandings in discovering the meaning, by a quick and easy perception of some quality or qualities common to the thing expressed, and the thing intended—to a mirror, for example, and to the theatre, when the latter is is called metaphorically,
"The mirror of human life."
102
In the
Problems, Sect. 19, Prob. V.
the same principle is applied to Music. The Problem is, Why we are more pleased with singing when we are acquainted with the air that is sung, than when it is new to us?—And one of the answers is,
ὅτι ἡδυ το μανθανειν
. i. e. to say, this is such a tune, or song, &c. And indeed the pleasure afforded by recognition, is no where, perhaps, more visibly illustrated, than in the raptures and rhythmical agitation of a popular
audience, at the return of the leading air, in that species of infallible ear-trap, the
RONDEAU.
I must add, as somewhat amusing, that
Plato
makes use of this principle to prove a dog to be a philosophical animal:
"for, (he argues,)
το φιλομαθες και φιλοσοφον, τ'αυτον
, the love of knowing, and the love of wisdom, are one and the same thing. Now dogs are delighted with knowing, simply, and disinterestedly; they fawn upon every one whom they know, and bark at the approach of every stranger;
103
and that, without having ever experienced good from the one, or harm from the other."
The philosophy of Aristotle here, though undoubtedly true, as far as it goes, will, I am afraid, to those who examine it, hardly appear to be perfectly satisfactory, or to reach the bottom of the subject. It is however to be considered, that what he has said, seems applicable chiefly to rude and unskilful spectators, and should, perhaps, be considered as a description of the effect of a picture or a statue upon children, and the multitude, who are little accustomed to view works of imitative art. And even with respect to them, the principle seems scarcely applicable but to portraits, and individual resemblances, such as may not be instantly recognized. When we look at a picture of that kind, we may not discover, till after a comparison of, at least, a few moments, that it is an imitation of this or that person; but, that it is an imitation of a man, we see at once and where there is not even a momentary ignorance, or doubt, I do not see how any information can be said to be acquired by the spectator, nor how, on the philosopher's own principles, (if I rightly understand him,) the pleasure conveyed by the imitation, can, in any sense, be resolved into that, which the mind receives from the exertion of its own powers in inferring, or discovering, the resemblance.
I say, on Aristotle's own principles, because, in the passage above referred to, where he explains himself more fully in applying the principle to metaphor, he expressly allows, that this pleasure of recognition, is not afforded by proper or common words, since they instantly suggest their meaning and cannot be mistaken.
105
Now a painting, considered as an imitation of a man, a horse, a house, in general, obviously answers in this respect, unless the imitation be grossly imperfect, to the common and familiar word; the one suggesting its original, as readily and immediately, as the other suggests its idea.
106
Among Aristotle's illustrations of this physical principle of the pleasure of self-information, as it might be called, there are two short passages, in particular, which seem to be so explicit with regard to the nature of that pleasure, that I will venture to add to the length of this note by a transcript and translation of them both. They will, I think, satisfy the learned reader that I have not, in the foregoing remarks, misrepresented the philosopher's meaning. After having applied the principle to metaphor, he applies it in like manner to the enthymemes, or arguments, of the orator.
"Διο ἐτε τα ἐπιπολαια των ἐνθυμηματων ευδοκιμει (ἐπιπολαια γαρ λέγομεν τα παντι δηλα, και ῾Α ΜΗΔΕΝ ΔΕΙ ΖΗΤΗΣΑΙ·) ἐτε όσα ειρημενα ἀγνοκμενα ἐστι᾿ ἀλλ᾿ ὅσων, ἡ ἁμα λεγομενων ἡ γνωσις γινεται, και ει μη προτερον ὑπηρχεν, μικρον ύστερίζει ἡ διανοια γίνεται γαρ ῾ΟΙΟΝ ΜΑΘΗΣΙΣ· ἐκεινως δε, οὐδετερον."
107
"For the same reason, we are pleased, neither with superficial arguments, (by which we mean such as are obvious to every one, and require no thought or search in the hearer;) nor with such as we do not understand when we have heard them; but, with those, which the mind apprehends, either while we hear them, (though not at first,) or in the moment after they are delivered:—for by these, we, in a manner, LEARN something: by the others, we learn nothing in either of these ways."
The other passage, in which the nature of the pleasure that Aristotle means is still more expressly marked, is this:
"Παντων δε των συλλογισμων θορυβειται μαλιστα τα τοιαυτα όσα ἀρχομενα ΠΡΟΟΡΩΣΙ, μη τῳ ἐπιπολης ἐἶναι ἁμα γαρ και ΑΥΤΟΙ ΕΦ ΕΑΥΤΟΙΣ ΧΑΙΡΟΥΣΙ προαισθανομενοι και ὅσων τοσετον ὑστεριζεσιν, ὡσθ άμα ειρημενων γνωρίζειν."
"Of all arguments, those are most applauded
108
, of which the audience have no sooner heard the beginning, than they foresee the conclusion;—not, however, from their being trite and obvious; for they are pleased, [not only with the ingenuity of the speaker, but] at the same time, WITH THEMSELVES and their
own sagacity. Those arguments, also, afford pleasure, which, the moment after they are delivered, we are no longer at a loss to apprehend."
23.
mvp-aristotle-comment-23
NOTE 23.
4.4
P. 70. IN A MORE TRANSIENT AND COMPENDIOUS MANNER.
Επι βραχυ
:—literally,
"for a short time."
AS
PLATO
,
Rep. iii. p. 396
,
κατα βραχυ
, for a moment—
en passant
.
Dacier's
explanation—
Quoi qu'ils ne soient pas tous egalement propres à apprendre,
—is, surely, wide of Aristotle's purpose. None of the versions, that I have seen, seem to give the exact idea, except that of
Heinsius
:—
"Quamquam minor BREVIORQUE ad hos perveniat voluptas."
24.
mvp-aristotle-comment-24
NOTE 24.
4.6
P. 70. FROM THE WORKMANSHIP.—
Δια την ΑΠΕΡΓΑΣΙΑΝ
—
"neatness"—"finishing,"
&c. In the following passages of
PLATO
, it is opposed to a slight sketch:—
και αυτων τετων [sc. δικαιοσυνης, σωφροσυνης, &c.] ἐχ ΥΠΟΓΡΑΦΗΝ δει, ώσπερ νυν θεασασθαι, άλλα την τελεωτάτην ΑΠΕΡΓΑΣΙΑΝ μη παριέναι
Rep. vi. p. 504
. So again,
lib. viii. p. 548
, the verb,
ἀπεργαζεσθαι
, is opposed to
ὑπογραφειν
.
25.
mvp-aristotle-comment-25
NOTE 25.
4.7
P. 70. METRE—A SPECIES OF RHYTHM.
Μορια
—parts. The following passage will ascertain the sense of the word in this place, and justify my version. Explaining the
different senses in which the word
Mep
was used, Aristotle says,
ἔτι, εις το διαιρεθειη ἀν, ἄνευ τε Ποσε, και ταυτα ΜΟΡΙΑ λεγεται τετε διο τα ΕΙΔΗ, το ΓΕΝΟΥΣ φασιν είναι ΜΟΡΙΑ
.—
Metaphys. lib. v. cap. 25.
So, in this treatise,
cap. 5.
—
τε Αισχρε ἐστι το Γελοιον ΜΟΡΙΟΝ
—
"a part, or species, of the ridiculous."
26.
mvp-aristotle-comment-26
NOTE 26.
4.7
P. 70. THOSE PERSONS, IN WHOM, ORIGINALLY, THESE PROPENSITIES WERE THE STRONGEST, &c.
It is obvious to remark here, that Aristotle, in this deduction of the art from the mimetic and musical instincts, includes verse in his idea of Poetry, which he, at least, considered as imperfect without it. All that he drops, elsewhere, to the disparagement of metre, must be understood only comparatively... An eminent writer has adjusted this matter... in his
Dissertation On the idea of Universal Poetry
.
109
What is there said, of
"the origin and first application of Poetry among all nations,"
will furnish the best comment I can give, upon the passage which is the subject of this note.
"Poetry is every where of the most early growth, preceding every other sort of composition; and being destined for the ear, that is, to be either sung, or at least recited, it adapts itself, even in its first rude essays, to that sense of measure, and proportion in sounds, which is so natural to us. The hearer's attention is the sooner gained by this means, his entertainment quickened, and his admiration of the performer's art excited. Men are ambi-
tious of pleasing, and ingenious in refining upon what they observe will please. So that musical cadences and harmonious sounds, which nature dictated, are farther softened and improved by art, till Poetry become as ravishing to the ear, as the images, it presents, are to the imagination. In process of time, what was at first the extemporaneous production of genius or passion, under the conduct of a natural ear, becomes the labour of the closet, and is conducted by artificial rules; yet still, with a secret reference to the sense of hearing, and to that acceptation which melodious sounds meet with in the recital of expressive words."
27.
mvp-aristotle-comment-27
NOTE 27.
The scraps that have been preserved of this Poem, the
Dunciad of
HOMER
, are so few, and so short, that it may be worth while, for the convenience of the reader, to collect them.—
Μεσαων θεράπων και ἐκηβολε Απολλωνα,
110
—a line as likely to be found in one kind of Poem as in another... The other fragments are a little more interesting, as they give some idea of the hero of the Poem.
ΤΟΝΔ᾽ ἐτ᾿ ἀν σκαπτηρα θεοι θεσαν, ἐτ᾿ ἀροτηρα, Ουτ᾿ ἄλλως τι σοφον πασης δ ήμαρτανε τέχνης.
Preserved by Aristotle, Eth. lib. vi. cap. 7
Πολλ᾿ ἡπιστατο ἐργα, κακως δ ήπιστατο παντα.
Plato, Alcib. Secund. p. 147. Ed. Serrani.
28.
mvp-aristotle-comment-28
NOTE 28.
4.12
P. 71. HIS MARGITES BEARS THE SAME ANALOGY TO COMEDY, AS HIS ILIAD AND ODYSSEY TO TRAGEDY.
Whenever Aristotle speaks of
COMEDY
, we must remember, that he speaks of the Old, or Middle Comedy, which was no other than what we should call farce, and to which his definition of Comedy was adapted:
μιμησις φαυλοτέρων
; that is, as he explains himself,
"an imitation of RIDICULOUS characters."
111
—This remark is necessary to explain what is here said of the
Margites.
A Poem, which, as far we can form any idea of it, celebrated the blunders and absurdities of an idiot, cannot well be conceived to have been analogous to any thing, that would now be denominated a Comedy. It seems to verge to the very bottom of the dramatic scale;
"jusq' au bouffon; celui-ci sera l'extrême de la Comedie, le
plus bas degré de l'echelle, opposé au terrible qui est à l'autre bout."
112
The
Bourgeois Gentilhomme of Moliere is certainly farce, however excellent in its way. But Mons. Jourdain is a very Ulysses, compared with Margites.
29.
mvp-aristotle-comment-29
NOTE 29.
4.14
P. 72. BY SUCH SUCCESSIVE IMPROVEMENTS AS WERE MOST OBVIOUS.
Ὅσον ἐγινετο φανερον αυτης
—literally,
"so much of it as was manifest."
I doubt of the reading: but, taking it as it stands, I have given what appears to me to offer itself as the most natural and simple meaning of the expression, if not the only one that it will reasonably bear.
30.
mvp-aristotle-comment-30
NOTE 30.
4.16
P. 72. ÆSCHYLUS-----ABRIDGED THE CHORAL PART.
The words are,
ΤΑ το χορό
. Aristotle would hardly have expressed himself thus, had he meant, as
Madius
,
Bayle
, and others, have understood, a retrenchment in the number of choral performers.
ΤΑ τε χορε
, the choral part, is opposed to
ΤΑ άπο σκηνης
, the dialogue,
Prob. xv. of Sect. 19.
It is singular, that
Stanley
should misunderstand this passage; and still more singular, that he should cite
Philostratus
, who is directly against him: for his words are,
συνεστειλε τες χορός, ΑΠΟΤΑΔΗΝ ΟΝΤΑΣ
:
"he contracted the chorusses, which were immoderately long."
113
This is confirmed by one of Aristotle's Problems, referred to by Victorius. The Problem is,
Δια τι οι περι Φρυνίχον ἦσαν μαλλον μελοποιοι
; (meaning, I suppose, more Musicians than the dramatic Poets of his own time:) The answer is,
ή, δια το πολλαπλασια είναι τοτε τα μέλη ἐν ταις των μετρων τραγωδίαις
;
114
I believe the passage may be rectified by transposition—
πολλ. είναι τοτε τα μέλη των μέτρων ἐν τ. Τ.
Perhaps, too, we should read,
των ΤΡΙΜΕΤΡΩΝ
. But, even taking it as it stands, it may sufficiently answer our purpose, as it shews clearly enough how much the Lyric parts of Tragedy, before the time of Æschylus, wanted contraction.
The prolixity of the Tragic Chorus, we know, was sometimes trying to the patience of an Athenian audience. This is pleasantly glanced at by
Aristophanes
in his
Ορνιθες: where the Chorus of birds, descanting on the convenience of wings, tell the spectators, that if they had wings, whenever, in the Theatre, they
"found themselves hungry, and were tired with the Tragic Chorus, they might fly home and eat their dinners, and fly back again, when the Chorus was over."
ΧΟΡ. Ουδεν ἐς᾿ ἀμεινον, ἐδ᾽ ἡδιον, φυσαι πτερα. Αυτιχ, ύμων των θεατων ἐι τις ὴν ὑποπτερο, Ειτα, πανων, τοις χοροισι των Τραγῳδων ήχθετο, Εκπετομενοι ἐν ἑτα ἠρισησεν, ἐλθων ὀικαδε, Κατ᾿ ἀν, ἐμπλησθεις, ἐφ ἡμας ἀυθις κατεπτατο.
v. 786.
31.
mvp-aristotle-comment-31
NOTE 31.
4.16
P. 72. AND MADE THE DIALOGUE THE PRINCIPAL PART OF TRAGEDY.
—
Και τον λογον πρωταγωνισην παρεσκευασε.
Victorius, and others, have supposed Aristotle to mean the Prologue. But it seems to be
a sufficient objection to this sense, that no example has been produced of the word
πρωταγωνισην
, used as merely synonymous to
πρωτο
; as signifying first only, not principal. Nor is it easy to discover any reason, why Aristotle should have recourse here to an unusual and ambiguous expression, when, presently after, in speaking of the improvements of Comedy [
cap. v.
], he makes use of the proper and established term,
προλογ
. There seem to be no words in the Greek language, of which the sense is more clearly fixed, than that of
πρωταγωνισης—πρωταγωνιζειν
. They occur frequently, and always, as far as I know, in the same sense, of principal—
primas agere
, &c. To this sense, therefore, I thought it necessary to adhere.
But I confess I cannot be satisfied with either of the explanations which have been given of the word
ΛΟΓΟΣ
. It appears strange to say, that Æschylus first introduced two actors, and then to add, as a distinct improvement, that he also first introduced a principal part or character:—unless we are to understand, what seems not very probable, that the two actors even of Æschylus himself were, at first, personages of equal dignity and importance in the drama... and that, afterwards, he was the first who corrected this error... and reduced the drama to unity of action by a proper subordination of characters. But, admitting this sense to be without difficulty, the expression of it, I think, is not.
Λόγος
, for a part in the drama,
role, personnage
, (as
Dacier
,) character, &c. seems harsh, and unusual. At least, I know no example of it.
The difficulties which attend both the expression and the sense, in each of these interpretations, have almost convinced me, that the very construction of the words has been mistaken; and that the meaning is,
"he made the discourse, or dialogue, the principal part of Tragedy."
This is well connected with what precedes, and agreeable to the known history of the Tragic drama, in which, originally, the Chorus was the essential, and the Episodes, or dra-
matic part, only the accessory. But Æschylus
"abridged the Chorus, and made the Episodic part the principal."
Λόγος
, here, may well be understood to mean what Aristotle elsewhere calls
λεξις
; the speaking, or recitative, part of Tragedy, whether delivered by one or more actors, as opposed to the
μέλη
, or Lyric part.
115
Παρεσκευασε
,
reddidit, effecit
, &c. as...
ευσεβεστερες τε και σωφρονεςέρες της συνοντας παρεσκευασεν
"magis pios et temperatos reddidit."
116
And thus Aristotle himself,
cap. xix.
ὅταν ἡ ἐλεεινα δεινα δεη παρασκευαζαν.
i. e. to make things piteous, terrible, &c. as in
Goulston's
version; and that of the accurate
Piccolomini
:—
"Quando occorre d'havere à far parere le cose, à miserabili, atroci,"
&c.
117
If the use of
πρωταγωνισης
as an adjective be an objection, it is one to which the other explanations are equally liable. On the whole, I have not scrupled to prefer this sense in my version.
32.
mvp-aristotle-comment-32
NOTE 32.
4.16
P. 72. SOPHOCLES ADDED THE DECORATION OF PAINTED SCENERY.
To adjust exactly the rival claims of Æschylus and Sophocles with respect to the
oψις
, or decoration, of the Tragic stage, would be a desperate undertaking. Some accounts are so liberal to Æschylus, as scarce to leave his successors any room for farther improvements. They give him
"paintings, machinery, altars, tombs, trumpets, ghosts, and furies:"
—to which others add a very sin-
gular species of Tragic improvement, the
"exhibition of drunken men."
—
την δε σκηνην ἐκοσμησε, και την όψιν των θεωμενων κατεπληξε τη λαμπρότητι - ΓΡΑΦΑΙΣ και μηχαναίς, βωμοις τε και τάφοις, σαλπιγξιν, ειδωλοις, ἔριννυσι.
118
—And
Athenæus
says,
πρωτου ἐκεινΘ----παρηγαγε την των ΜΕΘΥΟΝΤΩΝ ΟΨΙΝ ἐς τραγωδιαν.
p. 428.
He adds an example. In the Tragedy called
Καβειροι, he introduced
"Jason and his retinue drunk!"
The passage given by
Dacier
from
Vitruvius
is very general; it says only,
"scenam fecit."
119
This may, or may not, include painting; which, indeed, rather seems to be implied, in what follows, about the improvements of
Democritus
and
Anaxagoras
, where the
"imagines ædificiorum in scenarum picturis"
are mentioned. But all this is far outweighed by the testimony of Aristotle, who here explicitly attributes the introduction of painted Scenery to Sophocles.
33.
mvp-aristotle-comment-33
NOTE 33.
4.17
P. 72. IT WAS LATE BEFORE TRAGEDY----ATTAINED ITS PROPER DIGNITY.
—
Οιψε ἀπεσεμνωθη
:—and to
"late,"
we might add, imperfectly. For, what
Horace
says of the Roman Tragedy, is, in some measure, though perhaps not equally, applicable to the Greek:
in longum tamen ævum Manferunt, hodieque manent veftigia ruris.
Ep. ad Aug. v. 160.
Prejudice aside, it cannot surely be said, that the Greek Tragedy, in the hands, at least, of Æschylus, Sophocles, or Euripides, ever attained its proper dignity. I do not speak of modern dignity; of that uniform, unremitting strut of pomp and solemnity, which is now required in Tragedy. This was equally unknown to the manners, and to the Poetry, of the antients. I speak only of such a degree of dignity as excludes, not simplicity, but meanness—the familiar, the jocose, the coarse, the comic. Now it cannot, I think, be said, with any truth, that these are thoroughly excluded in any of the Greek Tragedies that are extant: in some of them they are admitted to a very considerable degree.
In particular, something of this sort—of what the French call
mesquin
—is almost constantly to be found in the short dialogue of the Greek Tragedies; in that part, I mean, which the eye, when we turn over any Tragedy, easily distinguishes from the rest, by its being carried on in a regular alternation of single verses. In this
"close fighting"
of the dialogue, as
Dryden
calls it,
120
which seems to have retained something of the spirit of the old satyric diverbia, where...
VERSIBUS ALTERNIS opprobria rustica fundunt,
HOR.
—in this part of the dialogue, we generally find... somewhat more than what
Brumoy
calls
"un petit vernis de familiarité ;"
121
especially when these scenes are, as they often are, scenes of altercation and angry repartee.
122
In the
Iphigenia in Aulide of
Euripides
, Menelaus, in the struggle with the old messenger for the letter, threatens to break his head with his sceptre,
Σκηπτρῳ ταχ άρα σον καθαιμάξω καρα.
v. 311.
Fairly rendered by Mr. Potter's verse—
"Soon shall thy head this sceptre stain with blood."
Unfairly dignified by
Brumoy's
prose—
"Prends garde qu'une mort prompte ne punisse ton audace."
Even Sophocles, who gave the Tragic tone, in general, its proper pitch, between the
ογκος
of Æfchylus, and the
ίσχνοτης
of Euripides,
123
is by no means free from some mixture of this alloy in the language of his short dialogue. For example: in the scene between Ulysses and Neoptolemus in the
Philoctetes, [v. 1250,] when Neoptolemus declares his resolution of restoring to Philoctetes his bow and arrows, at which Ulysses expresses his surprise by a repetition of the question,
Τι φης; τιν ειρηκας λογον;
—Neoptolemus replies,
"Would you have me tell you the same thing two or three times over?"
Δις τ'αυτα βέλει και τρις ἀναπολειν μ ἐπη;
v. 1238 [Oxford turn v. 1267].
In another scene... between Teucer and Menelaus, after a long altercation about the interment of Ajax, Menelaus says—
ὧν σοι φρασω τονδ᾽ ἐστιν ἐχι θαπτεον.
—to which Teucer replies—
Συ δ' ἀντακεσον τετον ὡς τεθαψεται.
Ajax, v. 1140 [Oxford turn v. 1159].
In plain English, but no plainer than the Greek—
"M. One thing I'll tell you—he shall not be buried. T. And I'll tell another thing—he shall be buried."
—Certainly this approaches
very nearly to the language of a contest between two washer-women.
124
These may be reckoned among the passages, in which the spirit of Sophocles, according to the observation of a great critic,
σβεννυται άλογως πολλακις, και πίπτει άτυχεστατα
.
125
In the
Antigone there is a scene of altercation between Creon, Ismene, and Antigone, in which, when Ismene, pleading for her sister, asks Creon whether he will put her to death, who was to become the wife of his son, his answer is—
ΑΡΩΣΙΜΟΙ γαρ χάτερων εισιν ΓΥΑΙ.
v. 569 [Oxford turn v. 576].
The prejudiced admirers of the antients are very angry at the least insinuation that they had any idea of our barbarous Tragi-Comedy. But after all, it cannot be dissembled, that, if they had not the name, they had the thing, or something very nearly approaching to it. If that be Tragi-Comedy, which is partly serious and partly comical, I do not know why we should scruple to say, that the
Alcestis of
Euripides
is, to all intents and purposes, a Tragi-Comedy. I have not the least doubt, that it had upon an Athenian audience the proper effect of Tragi-Comedy; that is, that in some places it made them cry, and in others, laugh. And the best thing we have to hope, for the credit of
Euripides
, is, that he intended to produce this effect. For though he may be an unskilful Poet, who purposes to write Tragi-Comedy, he surely is a more unskilful Poet, who writes one without knowing it.
The learned reader will understand me to allude particularly to the scene, in which the domestic describes the behaviour of
Hercules
; and to the speech of
Hercules
himself, which follows.
126
Nothing can well be of a more comic cast than the servant's complaint. He describes the hero as the most greedy
127
and ill-
mannered guest he had ever attended, under his master's hospitable roof; calling about him, eating, drinking, and singing, in a room by himself, while the master and all the family were in the height of funereal lamentation. He was not contented with such refreshments as had been set before him;
ἐτι σωφρονως ἔδεξατο Τα προστυχοντα ξενια Αλλ ἐι τι μη φερομεν, ΩΤΡΥΝΕΝ φερεια
Then he drinks—
Ἕως ἐθερμην᾿ ἀυτον ἀμφιβασα φλοξ
—crowns himself with myrtle, and sings,
ΑΜΟΥΣ ΥΛΑΚΤΩΝ
—and all this, alone.
"Cette description,"
says
Fontenelle
,
"est si burlesque, qu'on diroit d'un crocheteur qui est de confrairie ."
128
A censure somewhat justified by
Euripides
himself, who makes the servant take
Hercules
for a thief:—
πανέργον ΚΛΩΠΑ και ΛΗΙΣΤΗΝ τινα.
The speech of
Hercules
,
φιλοσοφεντου ἐν μεθῃ
, as the scholiast observes, (v. 776,)
"philosophizing in his cups,"
is still more curious. It is, indeed, full of the
φλοξ όνε
, and completely justifies the attendant's description. Nothing can be more jolly. It is in the true spirit of a modern drinking song; recommending it to the servant to uncloud his brow, enjoy the present hour, think nothing of the morrow, and drown his cares in love and wine:
ΟΥΤΟΣ τι σεμνον και πεφροντικού βλέπεις;
129
Ου χρη σκυθρωπον, κ. τ. αλ. ΔΕΥΡ ΕΛΘ᾽, ὅπως ἀν και σοφωτέρου γενη. Τα θνητα πραγματ οἰδας ἦν ἐχει φυσιν; ΟΙΜΑΙ μεν ΟΥ· ΠΟΘΕΝ ΓΑΡ; –ἀλλ᾿ ἀκει με. Βροτοις άπασι κατθανειν ὀφειλεται, Κεκ ἐστι θνητων όστις ἐξεπισταται Την άυριον μελλεσαν ἐι βιωσεται. Ευφραινε σαυτον ΠΙΝΕ! –τον καθ ήμεραν Βιον λογίζε σον, τα δ' άλλα, της τυχης. Τιμα δε και την πλειστον ήδιστην θεων ΚΥΠΡΙΝ βροτοισιν κ. τ. λ.
If any man can read this, without supposing it to have set the audience in a roar, I certainly cannot demonstrate that he is mistaken. I can only say, that I think he must be a very grave man himself, and must forget that the Athenians were not a very grave people. The zeal of
Pere Brumoy
in defending this Tragedy, betrays him into a little indiscretion. He says,
"tout cela à fait penser à quelques critiques modernes que cette piece etoit une Tragicomedie; chimere inconnu aux anciens. Cette piece est du gout des autres Tragedies antiques."
130
Indeed they, who call this play a Tragi-Comedy, give it rather a favourable name; for, in the scenes alluded to, it is, in fact, of a lower species than our Tragi-Comedy: it is, rather, burlesque Tragedy; what
Demetrius
calls
τραγωδια παίζεσα
.
131
Much of the comic cast prevails in other scenes; though mixed with those genuine strokes of simple
and universal nature, which abound in this Poet, and which I should be sorry to exchange for that monotonous and unaffecting level of Tragic dignity, which never falls, and never rises.
I will only mention one more instance of this Tragi-comic mixture, and that from
Sophocles
. The dialogue between
Minerva
and
Ulysses
, in the first scene of the
Ajax, from
v. 74 to 88
, is perfectly ludicrous. The cowardice of Ulysses is almost as comic as the cowardice of
Falstaff
. In spite of the presence of Minerva, and her previous assurance, that she would effectually guard him from all danger by rendering him invisible, when she calls
Ajax
out, Ulysses, in the utmost trepidation, exclaims—
Τι δρας, Αθανα; μηδαμως σφ' ἐξω καλει.
132
Minerva answers—
Ου σιγ άνεξη, μηδε δείλιαν ἀρεις;
133
But Ulysses cannot conquer his fears:—
ΜΗ, ΠΡΟΣ ΘΕΩΝ-ἀλλ᾽ ἐνδον ἀρκειτω μένων.
134
And in this tone the conversation continues; till, upon Minerva's repeating her promise that Ajax should not see him, he consents to stay; but in a line of most comical reluctance, and with an afide, that is in the true spirit of
Sancho Pança
:—
Μενοιμ᾿ ἀν ΗΘΕΛΟΝ Δ᾽ ΑΝ ΕΚΤΟΣ ΩΝ ΤΥΧΕΙΝ.
v. 88.
No unprejudiced person, I think, can read this scene without being convinced, not only, that it must have actually produced, but that it must have been intended to produce, the effect of Comedy.
135
It appears, indeed, to me, that we may plainly trace in the Greek Tragedy, with all its improvements, and all its beauties, pretty strong marks of its popular and Tragi-comic origin. For,
Τρα-
γῳδια
, we are told, was, originally, the only dramatic appellation
136
; and when, afterwards, the ludicrous was separated from the serious, and distinguished by its appropriated name of Comedy, the separation seems to have been imperfectly made, and Tragedy, distinctively so called, seems still to have retained a tincture of its original merriment. Nor will this appear strange, if we consider the popular nature of the Greek spectacles. The people, it is probable, would still require, even in the midst of their Tragic emotion, a little dash of their old satyric fun, and Poets were obliged to comply, in some degree, with their taste.
137
When we speak of the Greek Tragedies as correct and perfect models, we seem merely to conform to the established language of prejudice, and content ourselves with echoing, without reflection or examination, what has been said before us.
Lord Shaftsbury
, for example, talks of Tragedy's being
"raised to its height by Sophocles and Euripides, and no room left for further excellence or emulation."
138
I should be sorry to be ranked in the class of those critics, who
prefer that Poetry which has the fewest faults, to that which has the greatest beauties.
139
I mean only to combat that conventional and hearsay kind of praise, which has so often held out the Tragedies of the Greek Poets, as elaborate and perfect models, such as had received the last polish of art and meditation. The true praise of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, is, (in kind at least, though not in degree,) the praise of Shakspeare; that of strong, but irregular, unequal, and hasty genius. Every thing, which this genius and the feeling of the moment could produce... these writers possess in great abundance: what meditation, and
"the labour and delay of the file"
only can effect, they too often want. Of Shakspeare, however, compared with the Greek Poets, it may justly, I think, be pronounced, that he has much more, both of this want, and of that abundance.
34.
mvp-aristotle-comment-34
NOTE 34.
4.18
P. 72. ORIGINALLY, THE TROCHAIC TETRAMETER WAS MADE USE OF, &c.
As the Trochaic measure was still occasionally admitted, even in the improved and serious Greek Tragedy, and, in particular, occurs very frequently in the Tragedies of Euripides, it is natural to suppose, that a still more frequent use of it would be one of the characteristics of the fatyric drama, which seems to have been only a sort of revival, in an improved and regular form, of the old Trochaic Tragedy with its chorus of dancing fatyrs. It seems therefore somewhat remarkable, though I have not seen it noticed, that in the only fatyric drama extant, the CYCLOPS, and that written by Euripides, who has made so much use of this measure in his Tragedies, not a single Trochaic tetrameter is to be found.
35.
mvp-aristotle-comment-35
NOTE 35.
4.19
P. 73. THE IAMBIC IS, OF ALL METRES, THE MOST COLLOQUIAL, &c.
Compare
Rhet. lib. iii. cap. i.
and
cap. viii. Ed. Duval.
And
Demet. Περι Ἑρμ. Sect. 43.
36.
mvp-aristotle-comment-36
NOTE 36.
4.19
P. 73. ----SELDOM INTO HEXAMETER, AND ONLY WHEN WE DEPART FROM THE USUAL MELODY OF SPEECH.
It has been thought strange, that Aristotle should introduce here the mention of hexameters, when he has been speaking only of Trochaic and Iambic verse, and is accounting for the adoption of the latter, in preference, not to the hexameter, but to the Trochaic tetrameter: and it has, therefore, been doubted, whether we should not read
τετραμετρα
140
. But the established reading, I believe, is right. The Trochaic tetrameter, Aristotle has, both here, and in his Rhetoric, characterized as
σατυρικον - τροχερον όρχης ικωτερον
and even
κορδακικωτερον
141
. He did not, I apprehend, consider it as being, in any degree,
λεκτικóν
. It was therefore entirely out of the question, when a metre proper for the general dialogue of Tragedy was to be sought for: but the bexameter was not so; and it might, without absurdity, be asked by an objector, as Castelvetro and Piccolomini have observed, why that species of verse was not adopted; especially as the Tragic Poets were the successors of the Epic, or Heroic, and Homer, according to Plato, was "the first of Tragic Poets"
142
. As its character was grave and stately, it might seem, on that account, well adapted to Tragedy, where, indeed, we actually find it occasionally introduced. But Aristotle objects to it as less proper, because, though
σεμνον
, it was at the same time,
least
λεκτικον
. He allows, however, that it was not so remote from the rhythm of common speech, but that it might be casually produced, like the Iambic, though it rarely happened. He even goes so far, as to allow, in his concluding chapter, that Tragedy "might adopt the Epic metre."
143
—All this seems to afford sufficient support to the common reading. The Heroic and Iambic feet are, in the same manner, considered together,
Rhet. iii. 8.
By
λεκτικη άρμονια
, Aristotle means what Aristoxenus calls
ΜΕΛΟΣ λογωδες
144
. We must not suppose him to use the word
ἁρμονια
here, in that lax and general sense, in which we commonly apply it to the rhythm of speech, when we talk of the harmony of a verse or a period. He speaks with his usual accuracy. Speech, as well as Music, has its melody and its rhythm; and these, in speech animated by passion, are so modified, as to approach, more or less perceptibly, to musical melody and rhythm.
145
And what Aristotle here asserts, I think, is, that the
Greeks seldom, or never, departed so far from the usual rhythm of speech, as to run into hexameter verse, except when they were led, by the same cause, to depart equally from its usual melody or tones.
37.
mvp-aristotle-comment-37
NOTE 37.
4.20
P. 73. THE EPISODES WERE MULTIPLIED.
The mistakes, into which some commentators have been led by annexing to the term
Επεισοδιον
, as applied by Aristotle to Tragedy, the modern and Epic idea of a digression, "hors-d'œuvre, intermede, morceau d'attache", have been well pointed out by Le Bossu,
Tr. du Poeme Ep. liv. ii. ch. iv. v. vi.
. But he appears to me to have gone too far, and to have fallen into the opposite error, by extending the word even to the most essential parts of the general action, to which he will not allow the
ἐπεισοδια
to be, in any sense, added, united, &c.-but insists that they constitute that action,
"comme les membres font la matiere des corps." With this idea, he had, indeed, some reason to call the word
ἐπασοδιον
, "terme trompeur;" for, in this application of it, all sight of its etymological sense is lost. By all that I can gather from an attentive comparison of all the passages in which Aristotle uses the word, there appears to me no reason to suppose, that he any where meant to apply it indiscriminately to all the incidents of a fable; and it is for this reason that I have no where ventured to render it by the word incident, which would have been too general. Le Bossu's definition is," Les Episodes sont les parties necessaires de l'action etendues avec des circonstances vraisemblables." -The death of Cato, for example, in the Tragedy of Addison, answers to this definition. But would Aristotle have called that an Episode? I can scarce think it. The most I can conceive is, that he might have applied the term
ἐπεισοδια
to the particular circumstances and detail of the action, which were the additions of the Poet's fancy. Le Bossu mentions, as an instance, the escape of Orestes by means of the ablution, in the
Iphig. in Taur. of Euripides; which, he says, Aristotle calls an Episode. But, it is not the escape of Orestes, (
ἡ σωτηρια
) that Aristotle so denominates; this was an essential circumstance, and is expressly included by him in that general sketch of the plot, into which the
ἐπεισοδια
were afterwards to be worked: and one of these Episodes was the detail of the manner in which the escape was effected,
δια της καθάρσεως
. - See
NOTE 143
.
The word
ἐπεισοδιον
is, I think, used by Aristotle only in two senses: 1. The technical sense, in which it is clearly defined to mean, all that part, or, rather, those parts, of a Tragedy, that are included between entire choral odes.
146
2. It is evidently applied, in
other passages, to the particular parts, subordinate actions, circumstances, or incidents, of the fable; but only, I think, to such, as were not essential parts of the Poet's plan or story, though they might be, and indeed ought to be, closely connected with it:-such, as, however important in the action, by contributing to promote the catastrophe, were yet no way necessitated by history, or popular tradition, or, in subjects of pure invention, by the Poet's general and determined plan, but depended on the invention or the choice of the Poet, who might, without any alteration in the
καθόλε λογώ
, as Aristotle calls it, of his drama, have conducted the action to its catastrophe by different means.
The word
ἐπεισοδιον
, then, appears to me never to be used by Aristotle but in its proper and derivative sense, of something more or less adventitious or accessory-something inserted, superadded, introduced, at pleasure, by the Poet. But the Epic Poem, from its extent of plan, and the variety requisite to its purpose, admits, and requires, subordinate actions of greater length and slighter relation to the principal action of the fable, than is consistent with the shorter compass, closer unity, and different end, of Tragedy. As the Episodes of Epic Poetry, therefore, had more distinctness, entireness, and projection from the subject, if I may so express myself, than those of Tragedy, this, as it was the most obvious, became in time almost the only, application of the term; till, at length, from the frequent abuse of this Epic privilege of variety,
and the
μεταβαλλαν τον ἀκεοντα
, scarce any other idea was annexed to the word Episode, than that of digression, bors-d'œuvre, something foreign to the subject, or connected with it only by the slightest thread. Hence, too, in modern language, the word, I think, is applied only to entire actions of this additional, or digressive kind; not to the minuter circumstances or incidents which form the detail of an action. Thus, we call the whole story of Dido, in the
Aneid, an Episode; but we should not give that name to any of the incidents by which the death of Turnus (an action essential to the fable,) is circumstantiated, though equally introduced and supplied by the Poet, and therefore equally, in Aristotle's sense,
ἐπεισοδια
. And so much, as to his use of this term, in general. Whether these remarks are well or ill founded, will best appear, when we come to apply them to the particular passages in which the word occurs. In that now before us, it is used, I think, in the second of the two senses I mentioned; and its best comment seems to be another passage,
cap. xxiv.
where the critic observes the advantage which the Epic Poem has in the variety of its Episodes, and assigns the want of that variety, as one common cause of ill success in Tragic writing: –
το γαρ ΟΜΟΙΟΝ ταχυ πληρεν ἐκπιπτειν ποια τας τραγωδίας
.
38.
mvp-aristotle-comment-38
NOTE 38.
5.1
P. 73. THE RIDICULOUS-A SPECIES OF TURPITUDE OR DEFORMITY; SINCE IT MAY BE DEFINED, &C.
It has been asserted by some writers of eminence, that Aristotle here speaks, not of what is laughable or ludicrous, in general, but only of the ridiculous, in that particular sense of the word, in which it is distinguished from the merely risible, and implies
laughter mixed with disapprobation or contempt. This, however, is certainly not what Aristotle has said; for the word
γελοιον
, which he uses, is as general as possible, and answers exactly to our word laughable. And it is in this general sense, justified, I think, by common usage, that I have used the word ridiculous in my version. For though in a philosophical speculation the distinction above-mentioned may be necessary for clearness, and is undoubtedly well founded, yet, in common language, the word ridiculous is never used with this nice appropriation, but applied, like its Latin original, to whatever excites laughter.
But it is objected, that, if Aristotle means the laughable in general, his account of the matter is false; because "men laugh at that, in which there is neither fault nor turpitude of any kind."
147
I answer, that this is true in English, but not true in Greek. Our word, turpitude, is confined, I think, to a moral sense, and I suppose is here so used by Dr. Beattie; and it is certainly true, that we laugh at many things that have in them no turpitude of that kind-nothing morally wrong. But the Greek word,
ΑΙΣΧΡΟΝ
, was a word of wide extent, and seems manifestly used here by Aristotle in its utmost latitude; comprehending every thing that is, in any degree, ugly or deformed, from atrocious villainy, the highest moral ugliness, to a ridiculous cast of features in an ugly face. It is the opposite to
ΚΑΛΟΝ
, which was used in a correspondent latitude of application. - The objections, which have been made to this passage, have chiefly, I think, been owing to this, that the objectors have not been sufficiently aware of the extensive signification in which the Greeks used the words,
καλον, αισχρον, –ἀρετη, κακια σπεδαιον, φαυλον-άμαρτημα
, &c. We trans-
late the words of antient authors by words to which we annex different ideas, and then raise objections and difficulties from our own mistakes. The consequence of taking
αισχρον
here in the restrained sense of moral turpitude, has been, that those writers, who have so taken it, have been obliged to deny, that
γελοιον
means laughable, because the laughable in general could not truly be defined, "a species of moral turpitude."
It plainly was not Aristotle's design here to enter into an accurate inquiry about the nature of laughter, and the distinction of risible and ridiculous objects. This he had perhaps done, in that part of this mutilated treatise, which related to Comedy, and to which he himself refers in his Rhetoric.
148
His purpose, here, seems to have been, merely to support and explain his account of Comedy; i. e. that it was
μιμησις φαυλοτερων
, "an imitation of bad characters;" that is, as he immediately limits the sense of the general term
φαυλον
, of ridiculous, or laughable, characters. Such, he continues, are properly denominated
φαυλοι, κακοι
, bad, &c. because the laughable (
γελοιον
) is one species of the
αισχρον
, taken in its most general sense. "But to what species, or class," it was obvious to ask, "does it belong?"-To that class, it is answered, of things
αισχρα
, which are neither destructive nor painful: for these, exciting terror or pity, are the property of Tragedy. And he asserts, I think, plainly, that the laughable in general,
το γελοιον
, i. e. every thing that excites laughter, is
ἁμαρτημα ΤΙ και αισχα ἀνωδυνον και φθαρτικον
-is, in some respect or other, faulty, wrong, deformed, but neither painful nor pernicious. What follows, about a ridiculous face, is, I think, clearly, not an illustration merely, as Dr. Campbell understands it to be, but an instance.
149
This seems evident from Aristotle's using the very word
αισχρον
; (
προσωπον αισχρον
) which he would hardly have done, had he just
before used the words
αισχρον
and
αισχ
, as Dr. Campbell and Dr. Beattie contend that he bas used them, in a moral sense only.
But it is objected "We can never suppose that Aristotle would have called distorted features 'a certain fault or slip.'" To call them a slip, would indeed found strangely; because that expression conveys the idea of something morally wrong. But when we say, that a very long nose, or a wide mouth, is a fault in a face, we use a very common expression; the word fault having, I think, the same latitude of application as the Greek word
ἀμαρτημα
.
It must be observed, however, that all Aristotle says is, that these two characters, deformity of some sort, and the absence of pain, or hurt, are to be found in every object of laughter: he neither says, nor implies, the converse that every thing so qualified is laughable. With respect to one of these characters the absence of pain or harm-there can be no doubt. It is only saying that we cannot laugh at that which shocks us. As to the other general character, deformity, ugliness, something wrong, &c. (
ἁμαρτημα ΤΙ και αισχα
) it seems to me, that these expressions, taken in that large sense, in which Aristotle plainly means to use them, amount to much the same as those used by modern philosophers to characterize the risible in general; such as, "incongruity, incongruous association, striking unsuitableness," "disproportion, inconsistence and dissonance of circumstances in the same object"
150
. With respect to works both of nature, and of art," says the ingenious and philosophical author of the Elements of Criticism, "none of
them are risible but what are out of rule, some remarkable defect or excess; a very long visage, for example, or a very short one. Hence nothing just, proper, decent, beautiful, proportioned, or grand, is risible."
151
This appears to me to be exactly the meaning, and to approach very near to the language, of Aristotle. For, of whatever may be thus characterized it surely may be said, that it has some species of fault, deformity, or distortion: in Aristotle's words,
ἁμαρτημα Τι και -αισχρον ΤΙ και ΔΙΕΣΤΡΑΜΜΕΝΟΝ
.
Aristotle's account, then, of the
γελοíον
, appears to be right, as far as it goes. It might, indeed, be objected to, as too general, had he given it as the result of an exact and particular analysis of the subject. But this, as I have already observed, was not his purpose in this place.
It is farther objected by Dr. Campbell, that to speak of laughter in general, "would have been foreign to Aristotle's purpose:" because, "laughter is not his theme, but Comedy; and laughter only so far as Comedy is concerned with it. Now the concern of Comedy reaches no farther than that kind of ridicule which relates to manners."
152
—Undoubtedly it was this kind of ridicule that Aristotle had principally in view. But I apprehend, that the Comedy here in question was concerned with the ridiculous or laughable in general. For Aristotle's notion of Comedy, as an excellent writer has observed, "was taken from the state and practice of the Athenian stage that is, from the old or middle Comedy, which answers to his description. The great revolution which the introduction of the new Comedy made in the drama, did not happen till afterwards."
153
Now the old and middle Comedy, as I have before observed, were no other than
what we should call Farce. To raise a laugh was so eminently their object, that the ridiculous (
το γελοιον
) is frequently used by Plato, as synonymous to Comedy, and substituted for it; as pity is also for Tragedy.
154
Nor was it even very "foreign to Aristotle's purpose" to instance in a ridiculous face; for that this also was an established source of fun in the Greek theatre, is well known from the curious account of the comic masks in Jul. Pollux; who says, particularly of those of the old Comedy, that they were ridiculous caricaturas of the persons represented:—
ἐπι το γελοιοτερον ἐσχηματισο
.
155
The Athenians were certainly not more delicate than Cicero, who thought, we know, that bodily deformities were "satis bella materies ad jocandum."
156
He, also, agrees perfectly with Aristotle, or rather follows him, in his account of the ridiculous: "Locus autem et regio quasi ridiculi TURPITUDINE ET DEFORMITATE QUADAM continetur."
39.
mvp-aristotle-comment-39
NOTE 39.
5.4
P. 73. ITS POETS HAVE BEEN RECORDED.
The original is,
δι ΛΕΓΟΜΕΝΟΙ αυτης ποιηται μνημονευονται
: the only fair translation of which, I think, is,
"they who are called its Poets."
But as it seems not easy to find any reasonable meaning
for this, I have not translated the word at all. The text is probably corrupt.
Castelvetro
conjectured, very ingeniously,
ΟΛΙΓΟΙ ΜΕΝ ΟΙ ΑΥΤΗΣ ποιηται
.—But this Greek,
όλιγοι οι ποιηται
, is, I fear, what the critics call,
πονηρκ κομματα
. I will venture to mention another conjecture that has occurred to me. The learned reader will dispose of it as he pleases. It seems not improbable that Aristotle wrote,
Ηδη δε σχηματα τινα αυτης ἐχεσης ΟΙΑ ΛΕΓΟΜΕΝ, ΟΙ αυτης, &c.
i. e.
"When it had acquired a certain form, such as we say,"
alluding to what he had said of Homer's suggesting, by his
Margites, the true form, or idea, of Comedy, in which the ridiculous was substituted for the mere invective of the old Iambic, or Satyric form.
Τα της κωμωδίας ΣΧΗΜΑΤΑ πρωτο ὑπεδειξεν, ἐ ψογον, άλλα ΤΟ ΓΕΛΟΙΟΝ δραματοποιησας,
[cap. iv.]
See, also, what he says immediately after, of the forms (
σχηματα
) of Tragedy and Comedy being
ἐντιμοτερα
, in higher credit and esteem, than those of the old satirical and encomiastic poems which preceded them: for this seems to accord with what he here says, that Comedy was neglected till it attained something of this its proper form, and aimed at its proper object, the ridiculous. The reader will see the connection :
Ἡ δε κωμῳδια, δια το ΜΗ ΣΠΟΥΔΑΖΕΣΘΑΙ ἐξ ἀρχης, ἐλαθεν. ——ΗΔΗ ΔΕ ΣΧΗΜΑΤΑ τίνα αυτης ἐχεσης ὉΙΑ ΛΕΓΟΜΕΝ, ΟΙ αυτης ποιηται μνημονευονται
.—This differs from the present reading only by the insertion of a single letter,
Δ
, which might easily have been omitted, from its resemblance to the
Α
that follows.
40.
mvp-aristotle-comment-40
NOTE 40.
We are not, I think, to look for a sense of the word
Προλογο
, as here applied to Comedy, different from that, in which it is applied,
ch. xii.
[Transl. Part II. Sect. 10.]
to Tragedy. In both, it was that introductory part of the drama, the business of which was, to give the spectator, either directly, in its very outlet, or, more obliquely, in the course of it, so much information relative to the subject of the piece, as would enable him to follow the action without confusion.
157
This we learn clearly from the following passage in that part of Aristotle's
Rhetoric
, where he explains and illustrates the oratorical exordium, by a comparison of it with that of the Epic Poem, and with the prologue of a drama. After giving, as examples, the openings of the
Iliad and
Odyssey, he goes on:—
και οι Τραγικοι δηλεσι περι το δραμα, καν μη ευθυς, ώσπερ Ευριπίδης, ἀλλ᾽ ἐν ΤΩΙ ΠΡΟΛΟΓΩ γε ΠΟΥ δηλοι, ώσπερ και Σοφοκλης ---ΚΑΙ Ἡ ΚΩΜΩΔΙΑ ΩΣΑΥΤΩΣ
[Rhet. iii. 14.]
.
158
—This clearly excludes the separate prologue, such as that of the Roman Comedy; and it is, also, irreconcilable with
Dacier's
idea, that by the prologue, in the passage we are considering, Aristotle meant what was afterwards called the
Parabasis ; for this was merely an address from the Poet to the audience, through the mouth of the Chorus, occurring indifferently in any part of the play, and even, sometimes, at the end of it.
159
It seems to differ from the prologue of the Roman Comedy, and of the modern drama, only in its being delivered by the Chorus, and in the body of the piece.
Tragedy, according to the usual account of it, seems to have consisted, at first, only of two parts, the
Χορικον
, and
Επεισοδίον
, and to have begun and ended with those choral songs, which were then esteemed the essential part of Tragedy. But, afterwards, these scanty fables,
μικροι μυθοι
, as Aristotle calls them, were drawn out to their proper size , not only by introducing a greater variety of episodic incidents , but by prefixing to the first choral song, (or to the first speech of the entire chorus, according to Aristotle's account of the Parode, cap. xii.) the introductory part called
Προλογού
, and adding, after the last, the concluding part called
Έξοδος
. The case was probably the same with Comedy. The Phallic songs, from which it received its birth, were, I suppose, regarded originally as the essential part of the Comic drama, in the same manner as the Bacchic hymns were of the Tragic. Aristotle plainly speaks of Comedy, as having gradually received similar additions and improvements to those of Tragedy ; and, among these, that of the
Προλογά
. That such an introductory part, or act, which should be, as Aristotle expresses it,
δειγμα λογε
, and
ὁδοποιησις τῳ ἐπιοντι
, was indeed still more necessary to Comedy than to Tragedy, is obvious from the very nature of the former drama.
The nature and office of the Greek prologue, and its two different manners, are, I observe, very exactly expressed by
Terence
in the conclusion of his separate prologue to the
Adelphi ; as they are also very well exemplified in the two first scenes.
Dehinc, ne expectetis argumenta fabulæ. Senes qui primi venient, hi, partem aperient, In agendo partem oftendent.
That is, as I understand it, part of the plot they will open to you in the way of direct narration, like the prologues of Euripides, (as, in the soliloquy of Mitio,) and part they will discover in a more oblique and dramatic way, in the scene of action and dialogue that follows:
"In agendo partem oftendent."
I ventured, in a former note, to say, that the Greek Tragedy appeared to me to have retained, with all its improvements, some traces of its origin. Something of this may be perceived, I think, in the very opening of many of the Greek dramas: but especially in those of
Euripides
, whose inartificial prologues of explanatory narration, addressed directly to the spectators, remind us of the state of Tragedy previous to the introduction of the dialogue ; when it consisted only of a story told between the acts, (if I may so speak,) of the Dithyrambic Chorus, which was then the main body and substance of the entertainment. When I read the opening of the
Hecuba:
ΗΚΩ, νεκρων κευθμωνα και σκοτε πύλας Διπων, ἐν᾿ Αδης χωρις ᾠκισται θεων, ΠΟΛΥΔΩΡΟΣ, Εκαβης παις γεγως της Κίσσέως Πριαμέτε πατρα κ. τ. αλ.
Hec. v. 1.
160
—that of the
Perfe of
Æschylus
:—
ΤΑΔΕ μεν Περσων των διχομενων Ελλαδ᾽ ἐις άναν πιστα καλείται.
Pers. v. 1.
—or, even the—
ΑΥΤΟΣ ὧδ᾽ ἐληλυθα Ο ΠΑΣΙ ΚΛΕΙΝΟΣ ΟΙΔΙΠΟΥΣ ΚΑΛΟΥΜΕΝΟΣ
Oed. Tyr. v. 7.
—of
Sophocles
, I cannot help thinking of the single actor of
Thespis
, announcing his own name and family, and telling the simple tale of his achievements or misfortunes.
This sort of direct explanation was afterwards, with much more propriety, taken from the persons of the drama, and consigned to the actors in a detached prologue, such as those of
Plautus
and
Terence
: a practice, which, if we did not know the attachment of
Ben Jonson
to every thing antient, we might suspect he meant to ridicule, by the pleasant use he has made of it in the prologue to his puppet-shew of Hero and Leander, in the
Bartholomew Fair.
"Gentles, that no longer your expectations may wander, Behold our chief actor, amorous Leander, With a great deal of cloth lapp'd about him like a scarf, For he yet serves his father, a dyer at Puddle-wharf," &c.
The next, and the last step, in the history of Prologues, was again to leave the argument, as it had been left by Sophocles, to the oblique information and gradual development of the action itself, and to make the separate prologue subservient to other purposes, unconnected with the subject of the drama. The worst of these purposes, and the greatest possible abuse of the term, is to be found in what is called the Prologue of the
French Opera
; which is wholly composed of two ingredients, almost equally disgusting to a just poetical, or moral taste—allegory and adulation.
41.
mvp-aristotle-comment-41
NOTE 41.
5.5
P. 73. EPICHARMUS AND PHORMIS FIRST INVENTED COMIC FABLES.
Dacier
, here, raises unnecessary difficulties. His positive assertion, that, in the old and middle Comedy,
"Il n'y avoit rien de feint,"
is surprising. The slightest inspection of
Aristophanes
will confute it. Was it, then, a fact, that
Socrates
used to be suspended in a basket for the benefit of aerial meditation? and that Æschylus and Euripides weighed their verses in a pair of scales, to decide, by that means, a contest or superiority, after they were dead? &c..
161
Μυθες ποιειν
, is clearly to invent plots or subjects; and whatever is invented, or feigned, is, in Aristotle's language,
καθολε
, or general, as opposed to a strictly historical plot, which is
καθ ἐκαστον
, particular.
162
The expression, therefore, which Aristotle presently after uses, in speaking of
Crates
,
ἀφεμενα της ιαμβικης ίδεας, καθολα ποιειν λογες μυθες
, I understand to be no more than the development of the shorter expression which preceded,
μυθες ποιειν
. He does not say, that Crates was the first Poet, but only the first Athenian Poet, who invented such comic subjects. The distinction seems clearly marked:
το μεν ἐν ἐξ ἀρχης ἐκ ΣΙΚΕΛΙΑΣ ἦλθε : ΤΩΝ ΔΕ ΑΘΗΝΗΣΙ, Κρατης πρωτο κ. τ. αλλ.
.
42.
mvp-aristotle-comment-42
NOTE 42.
5.7
P. 74. EPIC POETRY AGREES SO FAR WITH TRAGIC, &C.
Of the corruption of this passage I have no doubt. It has been proposed to eject the words,
μετα λογε
. My suspicion rather falls upon the word
μετρε
; which, as it adds nothing but embarrassment to the sense, (
λογο
, speech, or words, being a general term, and including metre, as in
ch. i.
) I have omitted. It appears to me, likewise, that the only meaning, which can reasonably be given to the expression,
μεχρι ΜΟΝΟΥ μετρα
, is—as far as metre alone; i. e.
"without considering the other means of imitation, melody and rhythm."
And, accordingly, some commentators, by
μετρον ῾ΑΠΛΟΥΝ
, understand verse alone, without music. But had this been Aristotle's meaning, he would probably have used the appropriated and clear word,
$\psi u\lambda ov$
. The proper and obvious sense of
μετρον άπλεν
, is, a simple, or single, kind of metre.
163
This sense seems also supported by what he says of the metrical difference of the Epic and Tragic Poems, cap. xxiv. where melody and rhythm are not taken into the comparison, but the different kinds of metre only, and their being one, or many:—
ἐι γαρ τις ἐν ἀλλῳ τινι μετρῳ διηγηματικην μιμησιν ποιοιτο, ἐν ΠΟΛΛΟΙΣ, ἀπρεπες ἂν φαινοιτο.
And farther, that Aristotle did not mean to express by
μετρον άπλεν
, the exclusion of melody and rhythm, appears the more probable, because he sufficiently expresses this presently afterwards, when he says, that some of the parts of Tragedy were peculiar to it. Now these parts are no other than the decoration, (
oψις
), and the
Melopæia, which included melody and rhythm.
On the whole, it seems not improbable, that the passage originally stood in some such way as this:
Ἡ μεν ἐν Εποποϊία τη Τραγω δια μέχρι μονα ΤΟΥ μετα λογε μιμησιΝ ἐἶναι σπεδαιων ἠκολεθησεν.
43.
mvp-aristotle-comment-43
NOTE 43.
5.9
P. 74. THIS, AT FIRST, WAS EQUALLY THE CASE WITH TRAGEDY ITSELF.
It seems to have been taken for granted, without any foundation, by
Dacier
, and other commentators, that the modern rule, (for an antient rule it certainly is not,) of what is called the
unity of time, was strictly adhered to in every period of the Greek drama: and this has led them, in this passage, to confound the length of the action, or fable, with that of the representation ; for these, where a strict unity of time is observed, are indeed the same. But Aristotle here says plainly, that in the earliest state of Tragedy, no rule at all, with respect to the time of the action, was observed ; that it was not only allowed to exceed
"a single revolution of the sun,"
but was
like that of the Epic Poem. This evidently cannot be applied, without absurdity, to the time of representation. Yet so it is applied by Dacier in his note on this passage, p. 70.
But it appears farther, I think, from what is said, and plainly said, in this chapter, that, after all we have heard so often about this famous unity of time, the rule receives not the least support from Aristotle's authority. Every one, who knows how much stress has been laid by modern critics on the three dramatic unities, and happens not to be well acquainted with Aristotle's treatise on Poetry, would, I suppose, naturally take it for granted, that they are all explicitly laid down, and enforced by him, as essential and indispensable laws, in that famous code of dramatic criticism. But the fact is, that, of these three rules, the only one that can be called important—that of the
unity of action—is, indeed, clearly laid down and explained, and, with great reason, considered by him as indispensable.
Of the two other unities, that of
place is not once mentioned, or even hinted, in the whole book ; and all that is said, respecting the time of the action, is said in this chapter, and in these words:
"Tragedy endeavours, as far as possible, to confine its action within the limits of a single revolution of the sun, or nearly so."
164
Almost all the commentators seem agreed in understanding the expression,
μια περιοδου ήλιε
, to mean only an artificial day. But I own I could never yet perceive any good reason, why we should not permit Aristotle to mean what he seems, in plain terms, to say. If he meant only twelve hours, why did he prefer an expression so ambiguous, to say the least of it, as
μιαν περιοδον ήλιε
, to the clear and obvious expression of
μιαν ΗΜΕΡΑΝ
? —But, to wave this question, the utmost, which the most strenuous advocates for the unity of time can make of this passage, is this—that the Poet should endeavour, as far as possible, to confine the supposed time of the action to that of a single day, or nearly so. Now it seems allowed, that none of the Greek Tragedies extant could have taken up, in the representation, more than three or four hours. What Aristotle, therefore, here says, is so far from being a rule for the unity of time, that, on the contrary, it is saying as plainly as possible, that, in his view, it was no duty incumbent on the dramatic Poet even to aim at the observance of such a rule: for, had he thought otherwise, his mode of expression would, surely, have been very different. He would have proposed the strict unity of time—the exact coincidence of the actual time of representation with the supposed time of the action—as the point of perfection, at which the Poet was to aim: he would have said,
"Tragedy endeavours, as far as possible, to confine its action within the time of representation, or nearly so."
It is certain, indeed, that the nature of the drama, strictly and rigorously considered, would require, I will not say, to the perfection, but to the closeness, of its imitation, the exact coincidence here mentioned ; and it is on this foundation only, that any rule at all relative to time could be necessary, and that the dramatic Poet could, with any reason, be denied the privilege of the Epic. All I contend for is, that Aristotle has no where required such a coincidence ; that he has not even mentioned it; much less has he, either here, or in any other part of his work, enjoined it as a rule. His rule is, as generally understood,
"confine your action, as nearly as you can, to a single day;"
—or, as I think, in conformity to his plain words, it should be understood—
"to a single revolution of the sun, or twenty-four hours."
165
It may, perhaps, be objected, that Aristotle has not delivered this in the form of a rule ; that he only refers to fact, and to the usual practice of the dramatic Poets of his time.
"Tragedy endeavours,"
&c. But, surely, to mention the general practice of Poets with seeming approbation, or, at least, without a word to the contrary, is, in fact, to erect that practice, (as he has done on many other occasions throughout his treatise,) into a rule. It is sufficient for my purpose, that, at least, he has given no other rule. Moreover, what he here says of the practice of the Greek dramatists, seems somewhat adverse to the language of those modern critics, who so often appeal, if I mistake not, to that very practice, for the support of their rigorous unity of time. For, if his expression does not prove, that he thought the rule of a single revolution of the sun the only rule which the Poets ought to observe, it surely proves, because it actually says, that he thought it the only rule, which, in general, they did observe.
But what says
Dacier
?
"Une Tragedie, pour être parfaite, ne doit occuper ni plus, ni moins de tems, pour l'action, que pour la representation; car elle est alors dans toute la vraisemblance. Les Tragiques Grecs L'ONT TOUJOURS PRATIQUE."
What he adds, it seems not very easy to comprehend:
"Et ils s'en font fait une loi si indispensable, que pour ne la pas violer, ils ont quelquefois violentè leurs incidens, d'une maniere que je ne conseillerois pas de suivre:"
i. e. in plain English, (for I can make nothing else of it,)
"they have so scrupulously adhered to the rule, that, sometimes, for the sake of observing it, they have been obliged to break it."
p. 118.
I believe, every reader, who, in perusing the Greek Tragedians, has taken the pains to examine this matter, must be sensible, that what Dacier so confidently asserts, of their constant adherence to this rule, is palpably false. I shall only mention one remarkable instance of the utter neglect of it, and that in
SOPHOCLES
; who, in this, as in other respects, is usually regarded, I think, as the most correct and regular of the three Greek Poets whose Tragedies are in our hands. In his
Trachiniae, v. 632, Lichas sets out to carry the poisoned garment to Hercules, whom he finds upon the Cenaean promontory, which is said to be about sixty Italian miles from the scene of the action. At v. 734, Hyllus, who was present when his father received the garment, arrives with the terrible relation of its effects. Thus, during the performance of about a hundred lines, a journey of about one hundred and twenty Italian miles is supposed to have been taken. For this, and other instances of the same kind, I must content myself with referring the reader to the sensible and well written
Estratto della Poetica d'Aristotile
, published among the posthumous works of
Metastasio
, and which did not fall into my hands till all my notes were written. It contains many ingenious and sagacious observations. The subject of the dramatic unities, in particular, is discussed at large, and, I think, in a very masterly and satisfactory way. And, with respect to the strict unities of time and place, he seems perfectly to have succeeded in shewing, that no such rules were imposed on the Greek Poets by the critics, or by themselves;—nor are imposed on any Poet, either by the nature, or the end, of the dramatic imitation itself.
166
It would be inexcusable to quit this subject without reminding the reader, that the unities of time and place, were long ago powerfully, and, in my opinion, unanswerably combated, as far as their principles are concerned, by
Dr. Johnson, in his preface to Shakspeare, p. 20, &c.
44.
mvp-aristotle-comment-44
NOTE 44. P. 75.
6.2
IN THE WAY, NOT OF NARRATION, BUT OF ACTION.
It is surprising, that so strange a phrase as
ειδων --- δρωντων
—
formis---agentibus
—should have passed as genuine with any Greek scholar. It is still more so, that the obvious opposition of
δρωντων
to
ἀπαγγελια
, and the no less obvious absurdity of opposing narration to pity and terror, (
δι' ἀπαγγελιας, ΑΛΛΑ δ᾽ ἐλεου και φοβου
) should have escaped the notice of any commentator.—I should write the passage thus; still considering it as imperfect:—
χωρις ἐκαστου των ειδων ἐν τοις μοριοις * * * [forte ΔΙΑ] δρωντων και ου δι' ἀπαγγελιας
167
* * * * ἀλλα δι' ἐλεου και φοβου, κ. τ. αλ.
Thus the word
δρωντων
will retain its proper sense, and the active imitation of the drama, which Aristotle every where makes its characteristic distinction, as opposed to the Epic, will be, as we might expect to find it, in a formal and exact definition of Tragedy, distinctly marked.
I will just observe, farther, that this mode of expression—
δρωντων ΚΑΙ ΟΥ δι' ἀπ.
is familiar to Aristotle. Here however it may be justified by the necessity of marking clearly the distinction between Dramatic and Epic Poetry. In other instances, as,
ἑτερως και μη τον αυτον τροπον.
cap. i.
ὡς τον αυτον και μη μεταβαλλοντα.
cap. iii.
ειδως και μη ἀγνοων.
Eth. Nic. v. 8.
it seems hardly to admit of the same excuse. In the Poets we are less surprised to find it frequent.
Victorius has pointed out
Homer, Il. Z. 333.
ἐπει με κατ᾿ ἀισαν ἐνεικεσας, ἐδ᾽ ὑπερ αισαν.
—and
Sophocles:
Oed. Tyr. 58.
γνωτα, κ'ουκ ἀγνωτα μοι Προσηλθεθ' ίμειροντες.
If any man, in reading the ancients, can persuade himself to take such things for beauties, there is certainly no harm in it. The fact I take to be, that composition, even that of Poetry, was not yet so far improved and refined, as perfectly to exclude the inaccuracies and redundancies of popular and familiar speech.
45.
mvp-aristotle-comment-45
NOTE 45. P. 75.
6.2
EFFECTING, THROUGH PITY AND TERROR, THE CORRECTION AND REFINEMENT OF SUCH PASSIONS.
Δι' ἐλεου και φοβου περαινουσα την των τοιουτων παθηματων καθαρσιν.
A history of the controversies which this obscure passage has excited among critics and commentators, and an exact statement and examination of the various explanations which have been given of it, would almost fill a volume. Among these, however, the opinions, that are worth regarding, or that can, with any show of probability, be deduced from Aristotle's expression, are, I think, reducible to two.
One is, that this purgation, or moderation, of the passions, is merely the effect of having them frequently excited, and of being familiarized with the occasions of them, in Tragic fiction; just as the passions of pity and terror are actually purged, or reduced to moderation, in a surgeon, a physician, or a soldier, by their being accustomed to those terrible or piteous objects that occasion them.
The other interpretation attributes the effect to the moral lesson and example of the drama: Tragedy purges the passions by the striking pictures it sets before us of the dreadful calamities occasioned by the unrestrained indulgence of them; by giving useful warnings, and preparing us to bear the ills of life with patience.
One, or the other, or both, of these meanings, have, I think, been attributed to Aristotle by the best commentators and critics. For the first, the reader may see
Mr. Harris's Disc. on Music, Painting, &c. ch. v. note
.—
Heinf. De Trag. Const. cap. ii. p. 22, 23
. and
Castelvetro, p. 117, 118
. For the second,
Madius;—
D'Alembert in his letter to Rousseau, Melanges, tom. ii. p. 414
.—
Dryden, Obs. on the Æneid
—
Abbè Du Bos, Refl. sur la Poesie, tom. i. sect. 44, &c
. For an explanation compounded of the two,
Robortelli,
Piccolomini, and
Dacier, who, by the way, after declaring that all the explanations of former commentators
"servaient only to obscure the passage,"
and that the true sense was not to be found in any of them, proceeds to give us, as that true sense, and as his own discovery, exactly what had been said before him.
Let us first see what Aristotle says. He says, that Tragedy, by the means of pity and terror, effects the purgation (
καθαρσιν
) of such passions: i. e. of pity and terror and other passions of the same kind: for pity and terror seem clearly meant, by the expression, to be included in the effect.
168
And this, in my opinion, is sufficient
to overturn the second of the explanations just mentioned; for, according to that, terror and pity are not both the means and the object of the purgation, as Aristotle, I think, asserts them to be, but they are the means only of purging other passions—those passions, whatever they may be, which are supposed to produce the calamitous events exhibited to our view. Indeed, according to this idea, the object is rather the vice that arises from passion, than the passion itself which is the cause of it. But, besides this objection, I do not see any reason to think, that the moral lesson of the drama, and the effects it might have in moderating our passions through the reflections it excites in us, were at all in Aristotle's thoughts
169
.
The first of the two explanations seems far more admissible. I believe it made a part of his idea, but I doubt whether it was the whole of it. What was precisely his meaning, and the whole of his meaning, will never, I fear, be the subject of a perfect, Stoical
καταληψις
to any man. There is, however, one passage in Aristotle's works, which throws some little light upon this; enough, at least, to keep us from false interpretations, if not to lead us to the true. It is in the
seventh chapter of his eighth book De Republica
. The Abbé Batteux is the only commentator I know of, who has paid a proper attention to this passage; but as I do not perfectly agree with him, either as to the translation he has given, or the use he makes of it, I shall produce so much of the original as appears to be of any importance to our present purpose, and subjoin a translation, with some necessary remarks.
The object of Aristotle, in the chapter referred to, is, to examine what kinds of Music (i. e. of melody and rhythm,) are proper to be used in the education of youth. He mentions and approves a division, made by some philosophical writers of that time, of the different kinds of melodies, into Moral, Active, and Enthusiastic:
τα μεν ΗΘΙΚΑ, τα δε ΠΡΑΚΤΙΚΑ, τα δ' ΕΝΘΟΥΣΙΑΣΤΙΚΑ.
By the first of these we are to understand a manly, grave, and simple
melody. The sense of
πρακτικα
is less clear; but I suppose it means a more complicated and imitative sort of melody, adapted to express human actions; for, in the
49th of the Harmonic Problems [Sect. 19.]
it is said of the Hypo-Phrygian mode, that it had
ἠθος πρακτικον
, and was, on that account, used only in the dialogue and action of the drama, never in the choral part.
170
And the same epithet,
πρακτικον
, is applied, in this treatise, to the Iambic measure.
171
As to enthusiastic, it wants no explanation. Aristotle then proceeds to observe, that "Music was to be used, not for one useful purpose only, but for several," which he enumerates; and one of them is—
ΚΑΘΑΡΣΕΩΣ ἐνεκα
: with respect to which he says—
τι δε λεγομεν την καθαρσιν, νυν μεν, άπλως παλιν δε, ΕΝ ΤΟΙΣ ΠΕΡΙ ΠΟΙΗΤΙΚΗΣ, ἐρουμεν σαφεστερον
: "What I mean by
Καθαρσις
, or purgation, I shall now explain only in a short and general way; but hereafter, in the books concerning Poetry, more explicitly and clearly."—And this, I suppose, he had done, in that part of this treatise which is lost.—He then proceeds thus:
Φανερον, ότι χρηστεον μεν πασαις ταις ἁρμονιαις, ου τον αυτον δε τροπον πασαις χρηστεον· άλλα προς μεν την παιδειαν, ταις ἠθικωταταις· προς δε ἀκροασιν [f. ΚΑΘΑΡΣΙΝ], ἐτερων χειρουργουντων, και ταις πρακτικαις, και ταις ἐνθουσιαστικαις. ὁ γαρ περι ἐνιας συμβαινει παθος ψυχας ἰσχυρως, τουτο ἐν πασαις ὑπαρχει, τῳ δε ήττον διαφερει και τῳ μαλλον. οἷον, ΕΛΕΟΣ ΚΑΙ ΦΟΒΟΣ. ἐτι δ᾽ ἐνθουσιασμος· και γαρ ὑπο ταυτης της κινησεως κατακωχιμοι τινες εισιν. ἐκ δε των ἱερων μελων ὁρωμεν τουτους, όταν χρησωνται τοις ἐξοργιαζουσι την ψυχην μελεσι, καθισταμενους, ώσπερ ΙΑΤΡΕΙΑΣ τυχοντας και ΚΑΘΑΡΣΕΩΣ. ταυτο δη τουτο ἀναγκαιον πασχειν και τας ἐλεημονας, και τους φοβητικους, και τους όλως παθητικους· τους δ᾽ ἄλλους, καθ᾽ όσον ἐπιβαλλει των τοιουτων ἐκαστῳ, και πασι γιγνεσθαι ΤΙΝΑ ΚΑΘΑΡΣΙΝ, και κουφιζεσθαι μεθ' ήδονης.
[
p. 458. Ed. Duval.
]
172
In this passage, for
ἀκροασιν
I have no doubt that we should read
καθαρσιν
. The similitude of the words is sufficient to account for the mistake of the transcriber; and the purport of the whole passage seems to require the correction. For Aristotle is here showing, in what manner the three different kinds of melody were to be applied to the different purposes, which he had just enumerated:
προς ΜΕΝ την ΠΑΙΔΕΙΑΝ, ταις ήθικ.
προς ΔΕ την ΚΑΘΑΡΣΙΝ,—ταις πρακτικαις,
&c. The opposition is clear. And so, afterwards, a third purpose is mentioned—
προς ΑΝΑΠΑΥΣΙΝ.
[p. 459.] The words immediately following,
ἐτερων χειρουργουντων
, probably contributed to this mistake. They allude to his doctrine, in the preceding chapter, that boys should not be allowed to practice or perform, themselves, any but the simplest kind of Music, and upon the sim-
plest and easiest instruments, such as were not
δεομενα χειρουργικης ἐπιστημης.
[p. 457.] But this was not the character either of the active and enthusiastic melodies, of which he here speaks, or of the instrument used in the accompaniment of them
173
.
I shall now give what I think a fair and literal version of the passage.—
"It is manifest then, that all the different kinds of melodies are to be made use of; not all, however, for the same purpose. For education, the most moral kind should be used: for PURGATION, both the active, and the enthusiastic; performed, however, by others. For those passions, which in some minds are violent, exist, more or less, in all; such as PITY, for example, and TERROR: and, again, enthusiasm; for with this passion some men are subject to be possessed: but when the sacred melodies, intended to compose the mind after the celebration of the orgic rites, have been performed, we see those men become calm and sedate, as if they had undergone a kind of purgation, or cure. And the case must necessarily be the same with those who are particularly liable to be moved by PITY, or TERROR, or any other passion; and with other men, as far as they are under the influence of any such passion; all of them experiencing a sort of PURGATION, and PLEASURABLE RELIEF."
From this passage, though far enough, I am sensible, from being perfectly clear and explicit, two things, at least, may, I think, be confidently deduced. 1. That whatever be the meaning of the term
καθαρσις
, or purgation, here, must also be its meaning in the treatise on Poetry; since to that work Aristotle refers for a fuller explanation of it. The only difference is, that here, the term is applied to the effect of imitative Music; there, to that of imitative Poetry; of that species of it, however, which depended, we know, upon Music, for a very considerable part of
its effect. 2. It is plain, that, according to Aristotle's idea, pity was to be purged by pity, terror by terror, &c.; contrary to the second of the two explanations above mentioned. For Aristotle is here expressly speaking of the use of enthusiastic Music applied
προς καθαρσιν
; and he says, that men, agitated by enthusiasm, were purged or relieved from that enthusiasm by the
ἱερα μελη
, which were plainly enthusiastic melodies; i. e. such as imitated, or expressed, that passion, and were intended to calm the mind, which had been violently agitated and inflamed; not, as M. Batteux understands, by the sudden opposition of Doric, grave, and moral strains, [p. 280, 1.] but by pleasurable indulgence of the same passion in imitative Music:
κουφιζεσθαι μεθ᾽ ἡδονης.
These melodies were, probably, such as those of
Olympus, which had been mentioned just before [cap. 5.] and of which Aristotle says, that they,
Ὁμολογουμενως ΠΟΙΕΙ ΤΑΣ ΨΥΧΑΣ ΕΝΘΟΥΣΙΑΣΤΙΚΑΣ.
Indeed, from the manner, in which the Music of Olympus is spoken of by
Plato, and
Plutarch, there is great reason to suppose, that these "sacred melodies" were no other, than the very melodies of that musician
174
.
With respect to this
καθαρσις
itself, Aristotle by no means gives us in this passage, nor, indeed, professes to give us, a full and satisfactory explanation of it. Some light, however, he has flung upon it by the expressions,
ἰατρεια
, and
κουφιζεσθαι μεθ᾽ ἡδονης
, which he uses as synonymous to
καθαρσις
: "Purgation, cure, pleasurable relief." The Abbé Batteux understands Aristotle to mean no more by this, than that the passions of terror or pity, which, when excited by real objects, are simply painful, or, at least, have a predominant mixture of pain, are, by imitation, and the consciousness of fiction, purged or purified from this alloy of the disagreeable and painful,
and converted, on the whole, into an emotion of delight. His meaning may be clearer in his own words. Aristotle, he says, had established it as a principle—
"Que les objets désagréables plaisent quand ils sont imités, même lorsqu'ils le font dans la plus grande verité. En appliquant ce principe à la Tragedie, il s'ensuit, que c'est l'imitation qui est la cause du plaisir qu'elle produit, et non la nature des objets imités, puisque ces objets sont par eux-mêmes désagréables. C'est donc l'imitation qui ôte à la terreur et à la pitié l'accessoire désagréable qu'elles ont dans la realité: c'est l'imitation qui opere la purgation Tragique, en mettant les malheurs imités à la place des malheurs réels, et en séparant par ce moyen ce que la pitié et la terreur ont d'agréable, comme emotions, d'avec ce qu'elles ont de désagréable, quand elles font jointes à l'idée de malheurs réels."
175
This account, which is exactly
Fontenelle's solution of the pleasure arising from Tragic emotion
176
, is liable to a difficulty not easily, I think, surmounted. It confines Aristotle's meaning to the present pleasure of the emotion; it supposes all the purgation to consist merely in rendering the feeling of the passion pleasurable; not in any good effect which the habit of such emotion may produce, in correcting, refining, or moderating, such passions, when excited by real objects. Now, though it must be confessed, that Aristotle has not, in that short and professedly imperfect explanation given of the
καθαρσις
in the passage adduced, said any thing directly pointing to such effect, yet, I think, the whole turn and cast of his expression is such, as leads one naturally to conclude, that it was his meaning. The phrase,
κουφιζεσθαι μεθ' ήδονης
, does indeed appear to express the present effect only; but I can scarce conceive, that he would have
used such a word as
καθαρσις
, and still less,
ΙΑΤΡΕΙΑ
, without a view to something beyond the pleasurable relief or vent of the moment; especially, in a chapter, where he is professedly enumerating and examining the uses of music
177
. Farther, the words,
ἐλεημονας, φοβητικους, παθητικους
, confirm this idea; being all words expressive of habitual excess, requiring correction and moderation
178
.
But, what still more strongly opposes the Abbé Batteux's idea, is, that Aristotle is here, as Heinsius and others have well observed, evidently combating the doctrine of
Plato, whose great objection to Tragedy, was, that it feeds and inflames the passions
179
. It could be no answer to this, to allege, that the feeling of passion excited by Tragic imitation is pleasurable; for this is so far from being called in question by Plato, that it is the very foundation of his objection. The pleasure afforded by such Poetry is allowed by him in its utmost extent
180
. "Let its advocates," he says, "undertake to show us that it is not merely pleasurable, but USEFUL also, and we will lend a favourable ear to their apology; for we shall surely be gainers by the conviction."
181
Now Aristotle, if I understand him rightly, undertakes this apology, and points out the utility required. And no one, I think, can reasonably doubt, that such was his intention, who has attended to the following passage of Plato:—
ἀπολαυειν ἀναγκη ἀπο των ἀλλοτριων εις τα οικεια· ΘΡΕΨΑΝΤΑ γαρ ἐν ἐκεινοις ΙΣΧΥΡΟΝ ΤΟ ΕΛΕΕΙΝΟΝ, ου ραδιον ἐν τοις ΑΥΤΟΥ ΠΑΘΕΣΙ ΚΑΤΕΧΕΙΝ
182
. For, to this objection, there cannot well be a more direct and pointed answer, than Aristotle's assertion, as usually understood—that the habit of indulging the emotions of pity, or terror, in the fictitious representations of Tragedy, tends, on the contrary, to moderate and refine those passions, when they occur in real life.
But though the Abbé Batteux's idea of this purgation appears to me by no means to be the whole, it must, I think, be admitted as a part, and an essential part, of Aristotle's meaning. For the effect depends, not merely, as some commentators seem to suppose
183
, on the having our passions frequently and habitually excited, but, on the having them so excited by fictitious representation. Pity and terror frequently excited by such objects and such events in real life, as the imitations of the Tragic scene set before us, would rather tend to produce apathy than moderation. Nature would struggle against such violent and painful agitation, and the heart would become callous in its own defence. We must be insensible, that we might not be wretched. It is far otherwise with fictitious passion. There, the emotion, though often violent in spite of the consciousness of fiction, is always, more or less, delightful. We indulge it, as one of the first of pleasures; and the effect of that indulgence, frequently repeated, is perhaps, that, while it moderates real passion by the frequency of similar impressions, it, at the same time, cherishes such sympathetic emotions, in their proper and useful degree, by the delicious feelings which never fail to accompany the indulgence of them in imitative representation.
The passions of savages, or of men in the first rude stages of civilization, are ferocious and painful. They pity, or they fear, either violently, or not at all. With them, there is hardly any medium between ungovernable agitation, and absolute insensibility.—Suppose such a people to have access, like the Athenians, to theatrical representations, and to have their passions kept in frequent and pleasurable exercise by fictitious distress; the consequence, I think, would be, that, by degrees, they would come to have more feeling, and less perturbation. Instead of sympathetic emotions rarely excited, painfully felt, and soon extinguished, they would gradually acquire a calm, lasting, and useful habit of general tenderness and sensibility. In polished society, where the passions are accustomed to be indulged in fiction, either in the theatre, or by reading, and the pain is converted, on the whole, into one strong and delightful feeling, by the charms of imitation, Poetry, Music, aided by the indistinct consciousness of fiction—these passions, even when excited by real objects, seem to retain, (at least, in cases where we are not too closely touched,) some tincture of the same pleasurable emotion, which attended them, when raised by works of imagination; they are more moderately and agreeably felt, more easily governed, and more gentle and polished in their expressions.
Such appears to me, on the whole, to be the most probable explanation of Aristotle's meaning: I must, at least, confess it to be the only reasonable meaning, that I am able to discover. How far it is true, and founded on solid observation, is another question, which I willingly submit to the philosophical and thinking part of my readers.
I cannot omit to observe, that the short explanation given by
MILTON, in the introduction to his
Samson Agonistes
, appears to coincide exactly, as far as it goes, with my idea of the passage.—"Tragedy, as it was anciently composed, hath been ever held the gravest, moraleft, and most profitable of all other Poems: therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising pity, and fear or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions; that is, to temper and reduce them to just measure, with a kind of delight, stirred up by reading or seeing those passions well imitated." One thing should be added. Aristotle's assertion must be considered relatively to his own times, and nation. He speaks of the effects of Tragedy on the people of Athens, who, as reading was then no popular occupation, had scarce any opportunity of indulging fictitious emotion, but at the Theatre, and who, we know, were there accustomed to indulge it perpetually. With us, the case is widely different. The doctrine, therefore, of Aristotle, that "Tragedy purges the passions," translated, if I may so speak, into modern truth, would perhaps amount only to this—that the habitual exercise of the passions by works of imagination in general, of the serious and pathetic kind, (such as Tragedies, Novels, &c.) has a tendency to soften and refine those passions, when excited by real objects in common life.
46.
mvp-aristotle-comment-46
NOTE 46. P. 75.
6.4
IN SOME PARTS METRE ALONE IS EMPLOYED, IN OTHERS MELODY.
A passage of very tantalizing brevity. By
δια μετρων ΜΟΝΟΝ
, are we to understand, according to the obvious and literal meaning of the expression, that in some parts of Tragedy the verse was merely recited, spoken, as in modern Tragedy? —This contradicts what, by many writers, has been considered as a fact thoroughly established, that the Greek Tragedy was accompanied by musical instruments, and was therefore strictly musical, throughout: —for as to the dreams of the
Abbé Du Bos,
Rousseau, and others, about a noted declamation, a declamation accompanied by Music, yet not sung—this is too manifest an absurdity to stand in need of confutation.
If, as
Rousseau says, it is
"impossible to understand what the ancients have said about their theatrical declamation, without supposing this,"
would it not be better to say, at once, that we do not understand it, than to explain it into impossibilities?
As for the systematic
Abbé Du Bos, he was set upon proving his point; and he proves it like a man resolved to prove it, by wresting all sorts of authors to his purpose, and translating them as he pleased.
184
All we know clearly, is, that the ancient drama was accompanied, (in part, at least,) by musical instruments. I conclude, confidently, that since the instruments could not speak, the actors must sing—that their declamation must certainly have been, strictly speaking, musical, however simple; the chanting of the simplest plain chant, being as truly Music, i. e. as essentially distinct from speech, as the most refined melody of a modern opera.
If, then, the Greek Tragedy had a musical accompaniment throughout, it must have been sung throughout. But here, Aristotle says, as plainly as words can say it, that in some parts of Tragedy, "metre only" was employed: —
δια ΜΕΤΡΩΝ ἐνια ΜΟΝΟΝ
: that is, as it is necessarily implied, without the two other
ήδυσματα
, or seasonings, of Tragic language, just mentioned, melody and rhythm.
185
Some commentators, I know, endeavour to evade the force of this expression, by saying, that Aristotle means, by
δια μετρων μονον
, only the noted declamation, which, being a sort of recitative, was not regarded as strictly musical, nor denominated
μελος
.
And in support of this, it is alleged, that the word
λέξις
, Speech, is applied by him afterwards in a similar manner;
186
as
λεγεσθαι
is also by
Plutarch, who talks of "some of the Iambics being spoken with an accompaniment, and others, sung:
187
as we sometimes say of a singer, that he speaks recitative well. But all this, I confess, does not satisfy me. It is one thing, to apply occasionally the word
λεξις
or
λεγεσθαι
, in this comparative way, to such kind of singing as most resembles speech, and another, to say roundly, that some parts of Tragedy made use of metre, or verse, only; and that too, immediately after having fixed the exclusive sense of
μονον
, by enumerating the three
ήδυσματα
of Tragic diction, which he asserts to be separately used in different parts, i. e.
ῥυθμου, άρμονια, μετρον
, — RHYTHM, MELODY, and METRE.
188
They who dispute this meaning, must at least, I think, allow that if it had been the meaning, Aristotle could not well have expressed it with more precision. How can
μετρων
here be taken in the loose and comparative sense contended for, when, in the very words immediately preceding, it is carefully limited to its strict and proper sense, by being expressly discriminated from melody, as well as from rhythm?
But after all, the fact, that the Greek Tragedy was sung throughout, though often asserted, has not yet been proved; nor do I think that it can be proved; at least, by any passage of ancient authors, that I have seen adduced to prove it. The
Abbé Vatry, in a dissertation,
Sur la recitation des Tragedies anciennes, undertook to prove, in form, that the Greek Tragedies were sung,
"bout à l'autre,"
like our operas.
But how does he prove this?—by proving, what indeed is easily proved,
189
that a part of the Iambics, or the dialogue, was sung, and then by taking it for granted, that the ancients could not possibly have endured so barbarous a custom, as the mixture of speech and singing in the same piece.
"Il ne paroit pas qu'on puisse douter que ces cantiques ne se chantassent; mais de cela même je crois pouvoir conclurre, que tout le reste se chantoit, quoique differemment: car le bon sens, et ce que les anciens nous disent, nous conduit à penser que leur recitation etoit partout de même nature, et qu'elle ne se bigarroit point, tantôt d'une simple declamation, et tantôt d'un chant musical."
By the same presumptive mode of arguing, the Abbé might also have proved,
à priori, that the Greeks could not possibly have been guilty of the modern barbarous
bigarrure of serious and ludicrous, in their Tragic drama. But the first Greek Tragedy he had opened would probably have overturned his reasoning.
A thorough discussion of all the passages of ancient authors, that throw any light upon this question, relative to the dramatic representations of the Greeks, would draw me much too far beyond my bounds. I must content myself with pointing out (for I think it has not been observed,) the stubborn difficulty which this passage of Aristotle appears to me to throw in the way of the common opinion upon this subject; and with hazarding a merely hypothetical conjecture, that, if, as Aristotle seems plainly to say, some part of the Greek Tragedy was spoken, like our Tragic declamation, without any musical accompaniment, it was, most probably, that part of the dialogue, which, as I have before observed, in
NOTE 33
, is, in every Tragedy, easily distinguished from the rest, by its being carried on in a sort of quick repartee of verse to verse. As, in this part of the dialogue, we almost constantly find the Tragic tone lowered to a more colloquial pitch, and even approaching frequently to the jocular and burlesque, it seems reasonable to think, that here, if anywhere, the musical accompaniment, and the elevation of lengthened and chanting tones, were withdrawn, and common conversation left to common speech.
But what, again, are we to understand by—
και παλιν ἐτερα δια μελους
?—Are we to repeat
μονον
, and understand Melody alone, without the two other
ήδυσματα
, Rhythm and Metre? This cannot be. For though we may strip the Tragic language of melody and of rhythm, or, in other words, of Music, we cannot strip it of metre. The ancients most certainly did not admit prose into their Tragedies; and as little can we conceive them to have set prose to Music.
Dacier, and some other commentators, understand by
μελους
here, Music, including rhythm. This sense of the word is certainly warrantable; but it can hardly be the sense here: for, surely, an instance, in which all the three
ήδυσματα
were used, (as they must be, if metre be indispensable, and
μελος
imply rhythm and melody,) would be but a strange illustration of the
ΧΩΡΙΣ ἐκαστου των ειδων
κ. τ. αλ.
I do not see what remains, but, that we take
μελος
here in its most restrained sense, as distinct from rhythm, or time, and synonymous to
άρμονια
; that sense, in which Aristotle had used it before, in his first chapter.
190
191
And if we do this, we must necessarily, I think,
understand, that some parts of the dialogue were sung without rhythm: I mean, without musical rhythm, or time, though certainly not without that poetical or profodic rhythm, by which in reciting verse, and, indeed, even in the most familiar conversation, the syllabic quantity must have been relatively, at least, observed, though not, I presume, with the inflexibility of musical measure, nor with such a rigorous equality of long to long, and short to short, as is essential to the execution of what is properly called Music, and as I suppose to have been observed in the choral odes.
192
Thus the dialogue of the Greek Tragedy will appear to have been not improperly compared to our recitative; differing from the chorus, as our recitative differs from the airs, both in the absence of strict time, and in the kind of melody, which was also, as mere melody, less musical than the choral melody, and more imitative of speech, as well as of action.
193
Whether the monologues, or long speeches—the
μακραι ῥησεις
, as
Plato calls them—were performed in the same way, as the rest of the dialogue, or, as it has been imagined, were distinguished by being more measured and musical, is a point not easily cleared up.
194
The passages commonly appealed to for this purpose, from the grammarians
Diomedes and
Donatus, about the
Cantica of the Roman Comedy, I look upon as a very frail foundation of any conclusion with respect to the Greek Tragedy.
195
The passage of
Plutarch above quoted, note, furnishes the strongest support I know of for such a distinction. For, if by "spoken or recited to an instrumental accompaniment," (
τα μεν [sc. των ἰαμβειων] ΛΕΓΕΣΘΑΙ παρα την κρουσιν
)
Plutarch meant, as I think he must mean, sung in recitative, not literally spoken, (for how could that admit of a musical accompaniment?) then,
ᾳδεσθαι
, which is opposed to it, must of course imply, not mere singing as opposed to speech, but a more musical and measured melody.
47.
mvp-aristotle-comment-47
NOTE 47. P. 76.
6.6
THE MEANING OF MELOPOEIA IS OBVIOUS.
I have ventured to depart from the common interpretation, by understanding the word
δυναμις
, here, to mean, not the power, and effect, of the Melopæia itself, but the power, i. e. the meaning, of the term. Aristotle is here, as usual, explaining the terms he had made use of. It was directly to his purpose to say, as a reason for omitting a definition in this instance, that the meaning of the word was well known; but not at all to his purpose, to say—"I need not explain the word, because the power and effect of the thing signified by it, (that is, of Music,) is well known."
Dacier is amusing here. He wonders what could induce the Greeks to make Music a part of their drama; and at last,
"après bien des recherches,"
he discovers one principal cause to have been this—that they had very musical ears; but he does not dis-
cover the cause of his own wonder, which, in all probability, was, that he had not.
48.
mvp-aristotle-comment-48
NOTE 48. P. 76.
6.8
OR DELIVERING A GENERAL SENTIMENT.
In the
Rhetoric, Aristotle defines
γνωμη
by
καθολου ἀποφανσις
. [
Lib. ii. cap. xxi. p. 572.
] Thus below, in this chapter, for,
ἀποφαινονται γνωμην
, his first expression, we have,
καθολου ἀποφαινονται
. — This has been loosely and inaccurately rendered in all the translations I have seen, except those of
Castelvetro and
Goulston.
49.
mvp-aristotle-comment-49
NOTE 49. P. 76.
6.11
THESE PARTS----HAVE BEEN EMPLOYED BY MOST POETS.
Locus, as the critics say, conclamatus. Time is too precious to be wasted in the support, or refutation, of random conjectures upon a passage of such desperate corruption. How can
οὐκ ὀλιγοι
, "not a few," be tortured into, "all," or, "almost all?" Yet so
Dacier,
Batteux,
Goulston, &c. On the other hand, if fairly translated, "not a few Poets have made use of these parts," how strangely it will follow—"for EVERY Tragedy has them all!"—And how is the
ὡς εἰπειν
, to be applied? to
οὐκ ὀλιγοι
, or, to
ειδεσι
? In the midst of these difficulties, all I could do was to make my version consistent with itself; faithful to the original, I could not make it, without making it nonsensical. Those commentators, who apply the
ὡς εἰπειν
to the word
ειδεσι
, seem favoured by
ch. xii.
where, speaking of the same essential parts of Tragedy, Aristotle says—
οἷς μεν ΩΣ ΕΙΔΕΣΙ δει χρησθαι
.
50.
mvp-aristotle-comment-50
NOTE 50. P. 77.
6.12
THE SUPREME GOOD ITSELF----IS ACTION, NOT QUALITY.
See
Ethic. Nicom. I. 5, 7, 8. ed. Wilk.
&
Mag. Moral. I. 4, p. 149, 150, ed. Duval.
51.
mvp-aristotle-comment-51
NOTE 51. P. 77.
6.15
THE TRAGEDIES OF MOST MODERN POETS HAVE THIS DEFECT.
This receives illustration from what Aristotle presently after says, of "the rhetorical manner prevailing in the Poets of his time:"
οἱ δε νυν, ῥητορικως.
cap. vi:
and from his observation, at the close of
cap. xxiv.
[Transl. Part III. Sect. 6.] that "the manners and sentiments are only obscured by too splendid a diction."
What he has here said of the recent Tragedies of his time, may perhaps be said, in general, of our modern Tragedies, compared with those of
Shakspeare. The truth, I believe, is, that the Tragedy of a refined and polished age will always have less manners than that of ruder times, because it will have more dignity; more of that uniform and level elevation, which excludes strong traits of character, and the simple, unvarnished delineation of the manners. Indeed, what the Greeks denominated
ἦθος
, is the peculiar province of Comedy, and is seldom to be found in Tragedy, except in that stage of its progress, when it is not yet thoroughly and distinctly separated from Comedy;
from the imitation of common life, and natural manners.
196
Such are the Tragedies of
Shakspeare; and such, as I have before ventured to suggest, are those of
Euripides in particular, which, in proportion as they have less dignity, have more
ἦθος
, than the Tragedies of
Sophocles. But in neither of them, nor, probably, even in those very Poets here censured by Aristotle, was the "language of Poets," substituted for "the language of men," as it is almost constantly in the French Tragedy, and too often, in our own Tragedies of the French School.
197
52.
mvp-aristotle-comment-52
NOTE 52. P. 77.
6.15
POLYGNOTUS EXCELS IN THE EXPRESSION OF THE MANNERS.
I see not the smallest reason for the substitution of
ἀγαθων
, for
ἀγαθα
, which is the reading, we are told, of all the MSS. What Aristotle had said before of
Polygnotus,
cap. ii.
—
ότι κρειττους εικαζε
—seems not to afford the slightest ground for alteration here. [See
Mr. Winstanley's ed. p. 281.
] Painters are compared in very different points of view, in these two passages: there, as imitating good or bad, serious or ridiculous, elevated or low, objects: here, only as expressing, or not expressing, manners. It was directly to Aristotle's purpose to say, that
Polygnotus was a "good manner-painter;" (
ἀγαθος ήθογραφος
)—not at all to his purpose, (besides the awkwardness of the expression itself,) to say, that he was a "manner-painter of good men:" (
ἀγαθων ήθογραφος
).
198
53.
mvp-aristotle-comment-53
NOTE 53. P. 77.
6.16
JUST AS IN PAINTING, &c.
I hope I shall not much shock even the most conscientious adherents to the established inaccuracy and authentic blunders of ancient manuscripts, by having ventured to adopt here the transposition first proposed, I believe, by
Castelvetro.
199
I can only desire those readers, who may be alarmed at my temerity, to read the passage—
παραπλησιον γαρ ἐστι—κ. τ. αλλ.—γραφεας, εικονα
,—first, where it stands in all the editions, and then, where I have placed it, immediately after the words—
ἐχουσα δε μυθον και συστασιν πραγματων
.
200
—If this experiment alone be not sufficient to convince them of the propriety, or, rather, the necessity, of the transposition, I despair of the success of any arguments I am able to produce in the support of it. To me, I confess, it is among those things that are too evident for proof.
54.
mvp-aristotle-comment-54
NOTE 54. P. 77.
6.18
ADVENTURERS IN TRAGIC WRITING ARE SOONER ABLE, &C.
Aristotle argues here upon a principle rather rhetorical and popular, than philosophical—that, which infers superior worth from superior difficulty and rarity: —
το χαλεπώτερον και σπανιώτερον, μείζον
, (sc.
αγαθον
,) as he lays it down in his
Rhetoric, lib. i. cap. vii. p. 529.
Lord Bacon, in his
Essay On Gardens, uses the same argument, and almost in Aristotle's words, with respect to the superiority of gardening to architecture:
"A man shall ever see, that when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build stately SOONER than to garden finely; as if gardening were the greater perfection."
The truth, however, of the fact here asserted by Aristotle, appears, not only from the earlier dramatic Poets of every nation, but from the defects of plots in general, whether Dramatic or Epic; and from the rarity of those dramatic fables, for which the Poet has trusted entirely to his own invention, without recourse to history, or novels, or the productions of other dramatists.
201
—
"En general, il y a plus de pieces bien dialoguées, que de pieces bien conduites. Le Génie qui dispose les incidens, paroit plus rare que celui qui trouve les vrais discours. Combien de belles scènes dans Moliere!—On compte ses dénouemens heureux. On seroit tenté de croire qu'une drame devroit être l'ouvrage de deux hommes de génie, l'un qui arrangeât, et l'autre qui fit parler."
—
Diderot, de la Poes. Dram. p. 288.
55.
mvp-aristotle-comment-55
NOTE 55. P. 78.
6.22
TO THIS PART BELONGS, &c.-
Aristotle is not here defining
Διανοἰα
, as his expression,
τουτο δε ΕΣΤΙ
, seems, at first view, to imply: he is only explaining the subservience of the sentiments to the manners; he is shewing why they are next in rank and importance to the manners; namely, because manners or characters, are, in great part at least, manifested by the sentiments.
Dacier's note here is good.
"Aristote suit ici l'ordre naturel. Les sentimens font pour les mœurs, ce que les mœurs font pour l'action. Comme un Poete tragique ne peut bien imiter une action, qu'en employant les mœurs, il ne peut non plus bien marquer les mœurs, que par le moyen des sentimens, & par consequent les sentimens tiennent le troisieme rang dans la Tragedie."
56.
mvp-aristotle-comment-56
NOTE 56. P. 78.
6.22
WHICH, IN THE DIALOGUE, DEPENDS ON THE POLITICAL AND RHETORICAL ARTS.
Ὅπερ, ἐπι των λόγων, της πολιτικής και ῥητορικης ἔργον ἐστιν.
— I have not seen the words,
ἐπι των λογων
, satisfactorily explained. I cannot agree with those commentators, who by
λογοι
, here, understand, oratory, prose eloquence, as opposed to Poetry: a sense, indeed, very common, in Aristotle and other writers; but if we adopt it here, how follows—
ὁι ΓΑΡ ἀρχαιοι πολιτικώς ΕΠΟΙΟΥΝ λέγοντας
? for here, Aristotle evidently speaks of Poets; not of orators, as Dacier renders it. The passage, then, fairly translated, would stand thus:—"which, (i. e. the choice of proper sentiments,) in ORATORY, is the business of the political and rhetorical arts: FOR the antient Tragic Poets made their characters speak politically," &c. Nothing can well be more incoherent.
Επι των λόγων
, means, I think, in the
speeches,
discourse, or
dialogue part of the drama, as distinguished from the choral or lyric part, which had nothing, or comparatively nothing, to do with
ηθος
or character, and in which the Poet was, of course, to draw his
διανοια
, or thoughts, principally at least, from different sources; not from the stores of civil wisdom, or rhetorical art, but from those of Religion, Ethics, Mythology, and Poetry. The word
λογοι
, is clearly used in the same sense, in a passage that presently follows:—
διοπερ ἐκ ἐχεσιν ήθη ἐνιοι των ΛΟΓΩΝ
—"some of the speeches, or the dialogue."
57.
mvp-aristotle-comment-57
NOTE 57. P. 78.
6.23
FOR THE ANTIENTS MADE THEIR CHARACTERS SPEAK IN THE STYLE OF POLITICAL AND POPULAR ELOQUENCE; BUT NOW, THE RHETORICAL MANNER PREVAILS.
Οι μεν γαρ άρχαιοι ΠΟΛΙΤΙΚΩΣ ἐποιουν λεγοντας, οι δε νυν, ῥητορικως.
— So,
Rhet. lib. ii. cap. xxii. p. 573
,
ΠΟΛΙΤΙΚΩι συλλογισμῳ
—a Civil or Oratorical syllogism, as opposed to the strict dialectic syllogism: a distinction which he presently after expresses by,
ἀκριβεστερον
, and
ΜΑΛΑΚΩΤΕΡΟΝ, συλλογίζεσθαι
[ibid.] And thus, here, the same term,
πολιτικως
, is used, to distinguish the popular, and less laboured, though more solid, eloquence of the Senate or the Forum, from the studied and declamatory composition of the professed rhetoricians. A similar use of the word occurs in the passage quoted in NOTE 229, from the
Euagoras of Isocrates
, where,
ὀνομασι ΠΟΛΙΤΙΚΟΙΣ
, is plainly synonymous with
ὀνομασι ΚΥΡΙΟΙΣ
. See also
Dion. Halicarn. De Struct. Orat. p. 4. ed. Upton
, and Faber's note.
That Aristotle, however, by Politics (
ἡ πολιτικη
), means only, as Dacier asserts,
"l'usage commun, le langage ordinaire des peuples,"
cannot, surely, be admitted. The force and extent of the term is well known
202
.
"CIVILIS SCIENTIA,"
Quintilian
says,
"idem quod SAPIENTIA est."
It comprehended all the necessary knowledge of the
Πολιτικά
, the
vir civilis
, the public man. It included, of course, eloquence, or the faculty of public speaking, but that, of a kind very different from the
"umbratile genus,"
as Cicero calls it, of the rhetorical schools
203
. What Aristotle says of the old Tragic Poets, that they made their personages speak like such a man, not like a Rhetorician, cannot be better illustrated than by Quintilian's character of Euripides.
"Illud quidem nemo non fateatur necesse est, iis qui se ad agendum comparent, utiliorem longè Euripidem fore. Namque is, et in sermone—magis accedit oratorio generi, et sententiis densus; et in iis quæ à sapientibus tradita sunt, penè ipsis par, et in dicendo ac respondendo cuilibet eorum qui fuerunt IN FORO DISERTI comparandus."
[lib. x. cap. i.]
That Dacier, with so precise and clear an expression before his eyes, as,
ΕΠΟΙΟΥΝ λεγοντας
, should understand this of the antient orators, and roundly pronounce Victorius to be mistaken in applying it to the Poets, seems perfectly unaccountable. I do not see in this passage any foundation for the refinement of Castelvetro, Dacier, and other commentators, who refer the
ἐνοντα
to the political science, and the
ἁρμοττοντα
to rhetoric. The word
ἁρμοττοντα
, has, I think, the same sense as in cap. xv. and means, such sentiments, or thoughts, as, being adapted to the person speaking, are expressive of the manners: for it is in this view, as I before remarked, that Aristotle is here considering the Sentiments, or
Διανοια
.
Τα ἐνοντα
, as Victorius has observed, is equivalent to
τα ὑπαρχοντα
; and it was clearly the business of rhetoric (
ῥητορικης ἔργον
,) to teach both the
ὑπαρχοντα
and the
ἁρμοττοντα
. See
Rhet. lib. ii. cap. xxii. p. 573, E.
and
lib. iii. cap. vii. p. 590, D. ed. Duval
.
204
58.
mvp-aristotle-comment-58
NOTE 58. P. 78.
6.24
THERE ARE SPEECHES, THEREFORE, WHICH ARE WITHOUT MANNERS----AS NOT CONTAINING, &C.
The reading I have followed is, I think, fully authorised, by MSS. and by common sense. See Mr. Winstanley's note, p. 282.—The Abbé Batteux has given the passage thus, from a MS. (No. 2117,) in the King of France's library.
Ἔστι δε ήθος μεν το τοιοῦτον, ὃ δηλοι την προαιρεσιν, ὁποια τις ἐσιν· διοπερ ἐκ ἐχεσιν ἠθη ἐνιοι των λογων, ἐν οἷς ἐκ ἐστι δηλον ὅτι προαιρειται η φευγει ὁ λεγων.
The common reading stands thus:—
Ἔστι δε ήθη μεν το τοιουτον, ὃ δηλοι την προαιρεσιν, ὁποια τις ἐσιν, ἐν οἷς ἐκ ἐστι δηλον, προαιρειται, η φευγει ὁ λέγων· διοπερ ἐκ ἐχεσιν ήθη ἐνιοι των λογων.
— Which is thus rendered by Mr. Harris:
"MANNERS OF CHARACTER is that which discovers WHAT THE DETERMINATION [of a speaker] will be, in matters, where IT IS NOT YET MANIFEST, whether he chuses to do a thing, or to avoid it."
Now if this were true, I do not see how there could be any
ηθος
, in any play, after the first discovery of the speaker's character. In the
Avare of Moliere, for instance, it is sufficiently manifest from the very first scene in which Harpagon appears, what his avarice will lead him to chuse or to avoid, in any circumstance of the drama. Is there, for that reason, no
ηθος
, no sentiments that mark his character, in any thing he says during the rest of the play?
205
Nay, more; according to this reading, there can be no
ηθος
at all in any part of that drama: for the
προαιρεσις
or propensity of the Miser is completely known to every reader or spectator from the very title of the piece. I know, indeed, that
Le Bossu
, and others, have given a meaning to this passage, by making Aristotle say, what he certainly does not say—viz. when it is not yet manifest "ex indicio dicentis," what the will, or choice, of the speaker is. But if the common reading were right, we might, surely, expect to find the words,
ἐν οἷς ἐκ ἐστι δηλον
, &c. subjoined in other places where he defines the
ηθος
. Yet we have nothing like it in cap. xv. initio; nor in the second book of his
Rhetoric
, where he says only,
ηθος δ᾽ ἐχεσιν λογοι, ἐν ὁσοις δηλη ἡ προαιρεσις
: nor in other passages of the same work, relative to the same subject. Piccolomini's translation agrees with mine, and is expressed with his usual accuracy.
"—Ma il costume nel parlar' é quello, il quale mostra fuora, è apparir fà il volere, et l'elettion di chi parla. Peroche alcuni parlari si truovano, li quali non hanno costume; come ch' in essi non appaia, et non si manifesti, quello, che elegga, ò fugga, con la sua volontà, chi parla."
59.
mvp-aristotle-comment-59
NOTE 59. P. 78
7.4
A BEGINNING, IS THAT, &C.
See
Harris, Philol. Inq. Part II. ch. v.
These definitions must be understood wholly to refer to the wants, and expectations, of the spectator. He must want nothing before the beginning, nor expect any thing after the end. Nothing, however, is more common than both these defects; than perplexed beginnings, and unsatisfactory conclusions. Henry Fielding, we are told, used
"to execrate the man who invented fifth acts."
The inventor of first acts has not given dramatic Poets much less trouble. Most modern plays have, I think, more or less of this intricacy in their beginnings; but it is especially the case with Comedy.
It seems, indeed, by no means easy for a modern comic writer, of whom invention, novelty, variety of incidents, and ingenuity of contrivance, are required,
δουναι
, as Aristotle well expresses it,
ὥσπερ ἐις την χειρα, την ἀρχην
—"to put the beginning fairly into the spectator's hand." The spectator, and even the reader, of a new Comedy, is generally employed, during the first scenes, in guessing an ænigma; and when, at length, he comprehends what is going forward, his attention, interest, and sympathy, are disturbed and distracted, by looking back, to understand what he should have understood at first. Hence the advantage which the Tragic Poet, from the notoriety of his subjects, generally possesses over the Comic; and which is so pleasantly described in the fragment preserved by Athenæus from Antiphanes or Aristophanes:—
Μακαριον ἐστιν ἡ Τραγῳδια
Ποιημα κατα παντ· ἐιγε πρωτον οι λογοι
Υπο των θεατων εισιν ἐγνωρισμενοι
Πριν και τιν ἐιπειν, ὡς ὑπομνησαι μονον
Δει τον ποιητην. Οιδιπουν γαρ ἀν γε φω,
Τα δ άλλα παντ᾿ ἰσασιν· ὁ πατηρ Λαϊος,
Μητηρ Ιοκαστη· θυγατερες, παιδες, τινες –
Τι πεισεθ' ἐτω, τι πεποιηκεν—ἂν παλιν
Ειπη τις Αλκμαιωνα, και τα παιδια
Παντ᾽ ἐυθυς ἐιρηκεν ὅτι μανεις ἀπεκτονε
Την μητερα. —
Ἡμιν δε ταυτ᾿ ἐκ ἐστιν· άλλα παντα δει
Ευρειν, ὀνοματα καινα, τα διῳκημενα
Προτερον, τα νυν παροντα, την καταστροφην,
Την ἐσβολην· ἂν ἐν τι τετων παραλιπη
Χρεμης τις, ή Φειδων τις, ἐκσυριττεται,
ΠΗΛΕΙ δε ταυτ᾿ ἐξεστι και ΤΕΥΚΡΩΙ ποιον.
Athen. lib. vi. See Casaubon, in locum.
Thus rendered by Grotius—
Scilicet Tragedia
Felix poema est: nam principio cognitum
Argumentum omne spectatori est, antequam
Verbum hiscat aliquis: nomen tantum dicere
Poetræ satis est. Oedipum præscripsero,
Jam reliqua per se norunt; pater est Laïus,
Jocasta mater; tum qui nati et filiæ,
Quid fecit, quid patietur. Si promiserit
Alemæona alius, ipsi dicent pueruli,
"Hic ille est qui interfecit matrem insaniens."—
At nobis ista non licent, sed omnia
Sunt invenienda, nomina imprimis nova,
Res antegestæ, res præsentes, exitus,
Initia. Ex illis siqua pars defecerit,
Exsibilatur Phido, sive ille est Chremes;
Illa alia facere Peleo et Teucro licet.
Excerpta ex Trag. et Com. Græcis, p. 622.
When the middle of a drama is not sufficiently connected with what precedes, that is, in Aristotle's language, when it is not,
ἀυτο μετ᾿ άλλο
, a new plot seems to begin: a fault not uncommon in double and complicated fables. If, on the other hand, it wants the
μετ' ἐκεινο ἑτερον
, the piece seems finished before its time. The Sampson Agonistes of Milton, according to Dr. Johnson, is deficient in both requisites of a true, Aristotelic middle. Its
"intermediate parts have neither cause nor consequence, neither hasten nor retard the catastrophe."
Life of Milton.
The criticism appears to be just.
It is seldom, however, that a beginning, a middle, or an end, is defective in both the conditions required. A beginning, which, strictly speaking, did not naturally require any thing to follow it, (
μετ' ἐκεινο ἑτερον πεφυκεν ἐιναι
,) would put even the most attentive spectator into the situation of Shakspeare's drowsy tinker:
Sly. A goodly matter, surely. Comes there any more of it?
Page. My Lord, 'tis but begun.
Taming of the Shrew.
The most usual defects, and which, I suppose, Aristotle had principally in view, are those of beginnings which do not properly, in his sense, begin, and of endings which do not end. The first perplex us, by supposing something to have preceded, without clearly telling us what; the other leave us dissatisfied, by disappointing our natural expectations of something more to follow. Of this last fault, instances may be found in abundance; particularly in the conclusions of Shakspeare
206
. In Plautus, and even in Terence, we find this imperfection supplied by a very simple and clumsy contrivance, that, of informing the audience that the play was over, and telling them in what manner they were to suppose the catastrophe completed.
Spectatores, Fabula hæc est acta: vos plausum date.
Plaut. Mostel.
Spectatores, quod futurum est intus, hic memorabimus.
Hæc Casina hujus reperietur filia esse è proxumo;
Eaque nubet Euthynico nostro herili filio.
Id. in fine Casinæ.
Ne expectetis dum exeant huc: intus despondebitur;
Intus transigetur, si quid est quod restat.
Ter. And.
The fault opposite to this—that, of prolonging the piece beyond the point of satisfactory conclusion—has been attributed to the Oedipus Tyrannus of Sophocles. The criticism is tasteless, on every account. The reader may see it well confuted by Brumoy. But one of his answers is alone sufficient, on the principles of Aristotle:
"Le spectateur en effet seroit-il content s'il ignoroit le sort de Jocaste, d'Oedipe, et de sa famille?"
Theatre des Grecs, i. 376.
&c.
"Oedipus,"
Voltaire
says,
"is fully acquainted with his fate at the end of the fourth act. Voila donc la piece finie."
Critique sur l'Oedipe de Sophocle.
—He might have learned better criticism from a writer of far inferior abilities.
"Il faut aussi prendre garde que la catastrophe achéve pleinement le Poeme dramatique; c'est à dire, qu'il ne reste rien aprés, ou de ce que les spectateurs doivent sçavoir, ou qu'ils vueillent entendre; car s'ils ont raison de demander, Qu'est devenu quelque personnage interessé dans les grandes intrigues du Theatre, ou s'ils ont juste sujet de sçavoir, Quels font les sentimens de quelq'un des principaux acteurs aprés le dernier evenement qui fait cette catastrophe, la piece n'est pas finie, il y manque encore un dernier trait'."
D'Aubignac, Pratique du Theatre, tom. i. p. 126.
That is to say, in Aristotle's language, a drama so concluded, (as the Oedipus Tyrannus would be, if it ended with the fourth act,) would want the true
τελευτη
, or end—that, after which,
άλλο οὐδεν ΠΕΦΥΚΕΝ ἐιναι
.
60.
mvp-aristotle-comment-60
NOTE 60. P. 79.
7.8
WHETHER IT BE AN ANIMAL, &C.
Αλλα τοδε γε οιμαι σε φαναι ἀν δειν, παντα λογον ΩΣΠΕΡ ΖΩΟΝ συνεσταναι, σωμα τι ἐχοντα αυτον αὑτου ὡστε μητε ΑΚΕΦΑΛΟΝ ειναι μητε ΑΠΟΥΝ, άλλα ΜΕΣΑ τε εχειν, και ΑΚΡΑ, πρεποντα άλληλοις και τω ὍΛΩ.
Plato, in Phædro, p. 264, ed. Ser.
61.
mvp-aristotle-comment-61
NOTE 61. P. 79.
7.8
BEAUTY CONSISTS IN MAGNITUDE AND ORDER.
There is something singular, something, at least, not quite consonant to modern ideas, in the great stress which the antients appear to have laid upon size, as a necessary constituent of beauty in the human form. They seem, indeed, to have despised every thing that was not large; and to have estimated beauty, not by measure only, but by weight also.
"Magnanimity,"
the Philosopher in his Ethics
says,
"consists in greatness of soul, as beauty also consists in greatness of body. Little men may be called
άστειοι
, and
συμμετροι
, pretty, and well-shaped, but not
ΚΑΛΟΙ
, handsome, or beautiful."
That magnitude should have entered, as essential, into their idea of a handsome man, is not surprising. The utility of strength, and the connection between strength and size, is sufficient to account for this. But what appears most singular is, that they insist no less upon the importance of magnitude to female beauty.
—ΘΗΛΕΙΩΝ δε ἀρετη, σωματος μεν, καλλος και ΜΕΓΕΘΟΣ.
Rhet. i. cap. v.
Homer seldom omits size in his descriptions of this kind.
Ἔσκε δε πατρος ἐμοιο γυνη Φοινίσσ᾽ ἐνι οικῳ,
Καλη τε ΜΕΓΑΛΗ τε, και ἀγλαα ἔργ᾽ ειδυῖα.
Od. O. 416.
Nor let it be objected, that this praise comes from a swine-herd; for Eurymachus, a suitor, and a courtier, compliments Penelope, by telling her, that she was more accomplished in mind, handsomer, and LARGER, than other women:
ἐπει περιεσσι γυναικων
Ειδός τε, ΜΕΓΕΘΟΣ τε, ἰδε φρενας ἔνδον ἐἴσας.
Od. Σ. 248.
And, indeed, when Minerva, that Penelope might fascinate the suitors, anointed her with the cosmetic wash of Venus, and gave a supernatural heightening to all her charms, at the same time that she made her skin "whiter than ivory," she made her also "taller and stouter."
Αμβροτα δωρα δίδου, ἱνα μιν θησαιατ᾿ Αχαιοἰ
Καλλει μεν οι πρωτα προσωπα τε καλα καθηρεν
Αμβροσιῳ, οἱῳ περ ἐϋστεφανος Κυθέρεια
Χριεται, ἐυτ᾿ ἂν ἴῃ Χαριτων χορον ἱμεροεντα·
Και μιν ΜΑΚΡΟΤΕΡΗΝ ΚΑΙ ΠΑΣΣΟΝΑ θηκεν ιδεσθαι.
Ibid. 190.
Thus, too, of the daughters of Pandarus:
Ἡρη δ αυτῃσιν περι πασεων δωκε γυναικων
Ειδος και πινυτην, ΜΗΚΟΣ δ᾽ ἐπορ᾿ Αρτεμις άγνη.
When Penelope, in the beginning of the twenty-first book, goes to fetch the key of the repository, where the bow of Ulysses was kept, Homer describes her as taking hold of the key with her "stout hand:"
Ἑιλετο δε κληιδ᾽ ἐυκαμπεα ΧΕΙΡΙ ΠΑΧΕΙΗ.
Od. Φ. 6.
—which Ernestus, who allows, that,
"manu crassâ, non benè convenit feminæ pulchræ et reginæ,"
would fain soften down into the
main potelée
of the French.
Quintilian observes of Zeuxis, who drew the heads and limbs of his figures very large, that, in this, he followed HOMER,
"cui validissima quæque forma, etiam in fæminis, placet;"
lib. xii. cap. 10.
and, that he did this,
"id amplius atque augustius ratus:"
and, indeed, these ideas of the antients relative to beauty, both male and female, seem to have been owing, in part, at least, to their ideas of that majesty and dignity, which they considered as essential attributes of their divinities, and which imply superior size and strength. To tell a lady that she was taller and stouter than most of her sex, was a great compliment: it was comparing her to a goddess. It seems, then, that Shakspeare, in the quarrel between Helena and Hermia in his
Midsummer Night's Dream, has, without knowing it, made Hermia perfectly classical in her resentment, and Lysander, in his reproaches:
Her. Puppet! Why so?—Ay, that way goes the game.
Now I perceive that she hath made compare
Between our statures; she hath urged her height,
And with her personage, her tall personage,
Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.
Her. Little again?—nothing but low and little?
Why will you suffer her to flout me thus?
Let me come to her.
Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf,
You minimus of hind'ring knot-grass made,
You bead, you acorn!
Act iii. Scene 8.
62.
mvp-aristotle-comment-62
NOTE 62. P. 79.
7.9
NO VERY MINUTE ANIMAL CAN BE BEAUTIFUL— NOR ONE OF A PRODIGIOUS SIZE.
I am by no means perfectly satisfied of the integrity of this passage; but no better comment can, I think, be given upon it, as it stands, than that of Beni.
"Non priora [i. e. quæ valdè pusilla,] quia eorum spectatio [
θεωρια
] momento penè temporis fiat, ac propterea spectatio ipsa confundatur; quod est, tantâ celeritate comprehendantur ac veluti absorbeantur partes omnes, ut non liceat partem à parte, ut caput à thorace, internoscere, atque adeo partes conferre mutuò, symmetriamque et proportionem agnoscere et æstimare. Non posteriora, [i. e. valdè magna,] quia, è contrario, in tam ingenti mole ac magnitudine, partium multitudo cognitionem impediat, quæ non possit simul [
ἅμα
] haberi: dum enim spectatur una, propter distantiam deperit et evanescit [
οἴχεται
] cognitio alterius; ita ut unum et totum non appareat animal."
The reader may, after this, be amused with seeing what strange work
Lord Shaftesbury
has made with this passage in his explanatory translation of it.
63.
mvp-aristotle-comment-63
NOTE 63. P. 80.
7.9
EASILY COMPREHENDED BY THE EYE, &C.
ΕΥΣΥΝΟΠΤΟΝ
—No words furnish a more striking proof of the richness, compression, force, and convenience, of the Greek language, than those which Aristotle here uses;
ευσυνοπτον, ἐυμνημονευτον, συνδηλον
. The reader needs only see to what a feeble length of periphrastic wire-drawing a translator is reduced, if he would give their full value:
"Easily comprehended by the eye."
"Que l'œil puisse comprendre et mesurer aisement et tout d'un coup."
[Dacier.]
"Qui puisse être saisi d'un même coup d'œil."
[Batteux; the most compressed of all Aristotle's translators.]
"Un tout ensemble où la vue ne s'égare point."
[Marmontel, Poetique Fr. Pref.]
Of the same kind are the words,
ἐυεπακολουθητον
—"such as the understanding can easily follow and keep up with"
207
:
εὐανάπνευστος
, of a period, "that does not put one out of breath"
208
.
64.
mvp-aristotle-comment-64
NOTE 64. P. 80.
7.11
IF A HUNDRED TRAGEDIES &C.
The supposition of a hundred Tragedies performed in concurrence seems merely to be a sort of hyperbolical fling at the known intemperance of the Athenian people with respect to theatrical exhibitions; and Dacier has rightly, I think, accounted for this
exuberantia orationis
, as Victorius calls it
209
. But Dacier, and the Abbé Batteux after him, make Aristotle's expression too hyperbolical for hyperbole itself, when they translate,
"S'il falloit jouer cent Tragedies en un jour."
For if the Tragedies were only half an hour long, and played without intermission, they would have required a day of fifty hours. We must understand, surely, with Beni,
"Si centum Tragœdiæ, verbi gratiâ, totis illis spectaculorum diebus recitandæ proponerentur;"
Comment. p. 211.
which will still leave hyperbole enough.
Dacier is also mistaken, I believe, in concluding, from what Aristotle says, that it was once an established custom with the Greeks to regulate the length of Tragedies by the clepsydra, or hour-glass. His expression seems to imply at least, that it had been rarely practised, if it does not, as M. Batteux thinks, imply some doubt, whether it had been done at all:—
ὥσπερ ποτε και άλλοτε ΦΑΣΙ
. Thus much, however, as to the limited length of these performances, we may easily conceive; that when, to gratify the immoderate fondness of the Athenians for the drama, an uncommon number of Tragedies were exhibited in concurrence, and the contending Poets were apt to encroach upon the patience of the audience, by lengthening out their pieces in order to shew off themselves, or their actors
210
, the Lord Chamberlain of these exhibitions might be obliged, in compliance with the clamours of the people, to confine the representation of each drama to some limited time.
65.
mvp-aristotle-comment-65
NOTE 65. P. 80.
8.1
A FABLE IS NOT ONE—MERELY BECAUSE THE HERO OF IT IS ONE.
Mr. Hume, in his
Essay on the association of ideas, represents this passage of Aristotle as contrary to the doctrine he there lays down, and which is unquestionably true—that
"in all productions, as well as in the Epic and Tragic, a certain unity is required,"
&c.—and,
"that the unity of action which is to be found in biography or history, differs from that of Epic Poetry, not in kind, but in degree."
I see here no contrariety at all. Aristotle certainly did not mean to say, that a biographical Poem, if I may so term it, (a Poem
περι ἐνα
,) has no unity, no relation of cause and effect, &c. to connect the incidents;
but only, that it has not that degree of unity, which is requisite for the purpose of Tragic, or even Epic, Poetry. Mr. Hume himself allows, that Poetry
"requires a stricter and closer unity in the fable;"
and this is all that Aristotle appears to mean. The persons censured by him for concluding, that,
"because Hercules was one, so also must be the fable, of which he was the subject,"
were right enough, as philosophers, but as poets, certainly wrong.
This chapter, in which Aristotle considers so particularly the unity of fable, as distinct from its totality, led me once to think it probable, that the word
μιας
was originally in the definition of Tragedy, cap. vi. as we find it afterwards in
cap. xxiii.
περι ΜΙΑΝ πραξιν όλην και τελειαν
. But perhaps the supposition is unnecessary, and unity may be sufficiently implied in the words
τελειας και όλης
:
ΟΛΟΤΗΤΟΣ
, as he elsewhere says,
ΕΝΟΤΗΤΟΣ ΤΙΝΟΣ ΟΥΣΗΣ
.
211
66.
mvp-aristotle-comment-66
NOTE 66. P. 80.
8.3
EITHER FROM ART, OR GENIUS.
Ἢτοι δια τέχνην, Ἢ ΔΙΑ ΦΥΣΙΝ
. It appears from this, as well as from other passages of Aristotle's treatise, that in the midst of all the coldness of philosophical investigation and analysis, he never lost sight of the difference between that spontaneous operation of genius and feeling in the Poet, which produces poetic beauty, and the slow and cautious process of calm examination and inquiry in the Critic, whose business it is to discover its principles. It is not every philosophical critic that avoids this error. Nothing is more common, than to suppose that to have been produced by art and reflection, about which, when produced, art and reflection have been employed. Thus languages, we are told, must have been originally formed by art, because they cannot be analysed without art:
Grammarians and Philosophers must have formed language, because language has formed Grammarians and Philosophers.
212
67.
mvp-aristotle-comment-67
NOTE 67. P. 81.
8.3
BUT HE COMPREHENDED THOSE ONLY WHICH HAVE RELATION TO ONE ACTION, &C.
Οδυσσειαν γαρ ποιων, ἐκ ἐποιησεν ἅπαντα όσα αυτῳ συνεβη—ΑΛΛΑ περι μιαν πραξιν, οἱαν λεγομεν την Οδυσσειαν, ΣΥΝΕΣΤΗΣΑΝ.
So the text stands.
"Non cecinit omnia----sed quæ circa unam solam actionem, qualem Odysseam dicimus, constituerunt."
[Goulston.]
Victorius reads,
ΑΛΛ' Ἃ
, and
ΣΥΝΕΣΤΗΣΕΝ
; but does injustice, I think, to his own reading, by his construction and his version:
πέρι μιαν πραξιν συνεστησεν
:
"circa unam actionem-MANSIT."
This is, surely, very harsh. I should punctuate, and translate, thus:—
ἀλλα περι μιαν πραξιν, οἱαν λεγομεν, την Οδυσσειαν συνεστησεν· ὁμοἰως δε και την Ιλιαδα.
[fc.
συνεστησεν
].
"Sed circa unam actionem, qualem dicimus, Odysseam constituit; pariterque Iliadem."
—"But he planned his Odyssey, as he also did his Iliad, upon an action, that is one, in the sense here explained." And that this is the true reading, and the true sense, of the passage, I was once thoroughly persuaded. The construction of the whole is, thus, clear and natural. The circumstance of the plural verb
συνεστησαν
with the plural neuter,
ἅ
, is avoided; and the word
συνεστησεν
retains its proper and usual sense, as applied, throughout, by Aristotle, to the composition, or construction, of the Fable. So, cap. ix.
συστησαντες τον μύθον
. cap. xvii. and xxiii.
τους μύθους συνισταναι
et passim. I will not, however, dissemble what is against me. The reading
ἀλλ' ἅ
, besides its support from MSS. answers better to the
ἅπαντα όσα
, which precedes:
οὐκ ἐποιησεν ΑΠΑΝΤΑ όσα αυτῳ συνεβη—ΑΛΛ' Ἃ περι μ. π. &c.
But, if
ἀλλ' ἅ
be retained, the passage, I think, should stand thus:—
ἀλλ' ἅ περι μιαν πραξιν, [sc. ἐστι,] οἱαν λεγομεν την Οδυσσειαν, ΣΥΝΕΣΤΗΣΕΝ.
According to the construction of Piccolomini:—
"quelle cose accolfe, ch'al corpo d'una attione, la qual chiamiamo Odissea, servissero:"
—and the Abbé Batteux—
"Il a rapproché tout ce qui tenoit à une seule action."
—
συνεστησεν περι μιαν πραξιν
: i. e. composed his fable of those circumstances only, which relate to one action. Thus, immediately after—
τα ΜΕΡΗ ΣΥΝΙΣΤΑΝΑΙ των πραγματων
. Unwilling to make alterations that do not appear absolutely necessary, I have followed this last reading though with some remaining partiality to my first conjecture. That the sense would be clearer, and the construction less elliptical and embarrassed, is certain. But I am afraid this is but a questionable proof of corruption in the writings of Aristotle.
213
68.
mvp-aristotle-comment-68
NOTE 68. P. 81.
8.4
THE WHOLE WILL BE DESTROYED, OR CHANGED.
Destroyed, if any part be taken away, (
ἀφαιρεμενου
) — disturbed or changed, if it be transposed (
μετατιθεμενου
). In the first case it will be no longer a whole; in the last, not the same whole. This seems the meaning, as it is well rendered by M. Batteux:
"Que les parties en soient tellement liées entre elles, qu'une seule transposée, ou retranchée, ce ne soit plus un tout, ou le même tout."
—But I cannot think
διαφερεσθαι
right. It is rendered by Goulston,
"diversum reddatur, et moveatur, totum."
So Piccolomini,
"diverso----e mutato,"
&c. But, besides the manifest tautology, I doubt whether there be any good authority for this sense of the verb
διαφερεσθαι
—i. e. to be made different, or changed. At least I have not found any instance of it in Aristotle's writings. If we retain
διαφερεσθαι
, it must, I think, be taken in the sense of
discerpi, distrahi, &c. But I am almost persuaded, that Aristotle wrote
ΔΙΑΦΘΕΙΡΕΣΘΑΙ
, spoiled, or destroyed. So in his
Topics,
ΦΘΕΙΡΕΣΘΑΙ το ΟΛΟΝ
. vol. i. p. 258. B. ed. Duval
.
69.
mvp-aristotle-comment-69
NOTE 69. P. 82.
9.1
POSSIBLE, ACCORDING TO PROBABLE, OR NECESSARY, CONSEQUENCE.
Compare
cap. xv.
Χρη δε και ἐν τοις ήθεσιν. κ. τ. αλ.
—[Transl. Part II. Sect. 15. p. 93.] The expression,
δυνατα κατα το ἀναγκαιον
, "possible---according to necessity," appears strange at the first glance: but in fiction, events may be supposed to happen, as in real life they do happen, not only probably, but necessarily; that is, not only as they were likely to happen, but as, morally speaking, they could not
but happen.
"Puisque la fonction du vraissemblable dans la Tragedie, est d'empêcher l'esprit de s'appercevoir de la feinte, le vraissemblable qui le trompe le mieux est le plus parfait, et c'est celui qui devient necessaire. Un caractere etant supposé, il y a des effets qu'il doit necessairement produire, et d'autres qu'il peut produire, ou ne produire pas."
Again—
"La perfection est de faire agir les personnages, de maniere qu'ils n'ayent pas pu agir autrement, leur caractere supposé,"
&c. Thus Fontenelle, in his excellent
Reflexions sur la Poetique; in several parts of which, that clear and philosophical writer has, I believe without
any such intention, coincided with, and illustrated, the positions of Aristotle. See particularly, Sect. 58, to 65, inclusively.
70.
mvp-aristotle-comment-70
NOTE 70. P. 82.
9.2
A SPECIES OF HISTORY-
Ἱσορια ΤΙΣ
—"a sort of history." It is singular, that almost all the translators should have neglected a word so important as the pronoun
τις
in this passage. May we not infer from this expression, that if Aristotle had been asked, whether an Epic imitation in prose would be a Poem, or not, he would have allowed it to be,
ποιημα ΤΙ
, a kind of Poem, as having the essence of Poetry, invention and imitation? See NOTE V. P. 153.
71.
mvp-aristotle-comment-71
NOTE 71. P. 82.
9.3
A MORE EXCELLENT THING THAN HISTORY.
Σπουδαιότερον
. It means no more than, in plain English, a better thing. The word occurs frequently in Aristotle's works, in this general sense. So,
Rhet. I. vii. p. 528, B.
και ὧν αἱ ἐπισημαι καλλιους σπουδαιότεραι, και τα πραγματα καλλιω και σπουδαιότερα.
—And,
ibid. I. ix. p. 531, E.
Και αἱ των φύσει σπουδαιοτέρων (superior by nature) ἀρεται καλλιους, και τα ἐργα· οἱον ἀνδρος [sc. σπουδαιοτεραι αἱ ἀρεται, &c.] γυναικ.
—See, also,
Ethic. Nicom. lib. vi. cap. vii. p. 78, C.
ἀτοπον γαρ εἴ τις την ἐπισημην πολιτικην -- ΣΠΟΥΔΑΙΟΤΑΤΗΝ οἴεται εἶναι, εἴ μη το ΑΡΙΣΤΟΝ των ἐν τῷ κοσμῳ ἀνθρωπος ἐστι.
Dacier translates the word, "morale;" Batteux, "instructive;" but this is rather giving the reason why it is
σπουδαιότερον
, or, a superior thing.
72.
mvp-aristotle-comment-72
NOTE 72. P. 82.
9.5
IS NOT, LIKE THE IAMBIC POETS, PARTICULAR AND PERSONAL.
Ιαμβοποιοι
. Strictly, the writers of the
ψογοι
or satirical invectives that preceded Comedy. [See
cap. iv.
Transl. Part I. Sect. 6.] But I believe Aristotle meant here to include, at least, the authors of the first rude Comedy, "of the Iambic form—"
της ιαμβικης ιδεας
. See
cap. v.
Transl. Part I. Sect. 8.
It appears, that the Poem called
Ιαμβοι
, whatever it was, was represented, or acted, as well as Tragedy and the Epic: for, in his
seventh book De Rep. cap. xvii.
the philosopher forbids boys to be spectators of Iambi and Comedies:—
τους δε νεωτέρους οὔτ' ΙΑΜΒΩΝ, οὔτε κωμῳδίας ΘΕΑΤΑΣ νομοθετητεον, πριν η κ. τ. ἀλ.
p. 448, E.
73.
mvp-aristotle-comment-73
NOTE 73. P. 82.
9.6
WHAT HAS NEVER ACTUALLY HAPPENED, WE ARE NOT APT TO REGARD AS POSSIBLE.
This must be restricted to those extraordinary actions and events, of public and elevated personages, which usually make the subject of Tragedy. The best comment I have seen, or that, I think, can be given, on this passage, is that of Piccolomini
214
; but it is so long, that I can only refer to it. We have, however, the substance of it in the following observation of Brumoy.
"La Tragedie ne s'est point sous-divisée" (as Comedy, he observes, had been,) "en Tragedie reelle, et Tragedie de pure imagination. Je crois en trouver la raison dans la nature de l'esprit humain. Il n'y a que la vraissemblance dont il puisse être touché. Or il n'est pas vraissemblable que des faits aussi grands que ceux de la Tragedie, des faits qui n'arrivent que dans les maisons des rois, ou dans le sein des empires, soient absolument inconnus. Si donc le Poete invente tout son sujet, jusq' aux noms, l'esprit du spectateur se revolte; tout lui paroit incroyable, et la piece manque fon effet, faute de vraissemblance. Mais comme la Comedie ne touche que la vie commune et ses ridicules, le spectateur peut supposer et suppose en effet, en se laissant aller à l'enchantement du spectacle, que le sujet qu'on lui présente est un fait réel, quoiqu' il ne le connoisse pas. Il n'en seroit pas de même, si le sujet comique avoit du merveilleux."
Theatre des Grecs, i. p. 207.
74.
mvp-aristotle-comment-74
NOTE 74. P. 83.
9.9
A POET SHOULD BE A POET OR MAKER OF FABLES, RATHER THAN OF VERSES.
So Plato, almost in the same words:—
ἐννοησας ότι τον ποιητην δεοι, εἴπερ μέλλοι ποιητης εἶναι, ποιειν ΜΥΘΟΥΣ, ἀλλ' οὐ ΛΟΓΟΥΣ.
—
Phædon, p. 61, ed. Serr.
75.
mvp-aristotle-comment-75
NOTE 75. P. 83.
9.10
NOR IS HE THE LESS A POET, THOUGH THE INCIDENTS OF HIS FABLE SHOULD CHANCE TO BE SUCH AS HAVE REALLY HAPPENED, &C.
The original, as it stands, (for I doubt of its integrity,) is very ambiguous and obscure. The sense I wished to give it, is this: "Nor will he be the less a Poet, though he should found his Poem upon fact: for nothing hinders, but that some real events may be such, as to admit of Poetic probability; and he who gives them this probability, and makes them such, as Poetry requires, is so far entitled to the name of Poet, or Inventor."
And thus, indeed, the passage is explained by Robortelli and some other commentators: and Casaubon seems to have so understood it; for, quoting the words
κἂν άρα συμβῃ γενομενα ποιειν, κ. τ. αλ.
—he says,
"ad ea solùm dramata referendum, quorum hypothesis ab historiâ est; ut Persarum Æschyli: fabulæ verò totius
συνθεσις
ab ingenio Poetæ."
I do not, however, see how this sense can be fairly extracted from the words, as they now stand. That which I have given in my translation, and which was first suggested to me by the word
συμβῃ
, I was afterwards glad to find supported by the opinion of Victorius. The expression—
ἂν ΣΥΜΒΗι γενομενα ποιειν
,— "if he should
happen," &c. is very strong, and hardly applicable to a Poet chusing a true story for the outline of his fable. It indicates accidental coincidence with truth. The word
εἶναι
, also, is on the same side: "may be," does not suit the sense above given, which requires, "may become"—may be made such by the Poet; not, "may be such," in themselves, which is the obvious meaning of
τοιαῦτα ΕΙΝΑΙ
. Farther; Aristotle has just told us, that probability is the Poet's province, and yet, at the same time, that Tragedies were usually founded, and should, in general, be founded, on historical fact. Now it would, surely, be rather strange, after all this, to say, "nothing hinders, but that some real events may be made to have poetic probability:"
οὐδεν ΚΩΛΥΕΙ τοιαῦτα εἶναι οἷα ἂν εἴκοτα γενεσθαι, κ. τ. αλ.
But, to the interpretation which I have preferred, these expressions are all exactly suitable, and the meaning and connection of the whole seems to be this:—Aristotle had been opposing Poetry to fact: he had said expressly, that the
γενομενα
were the peculiar province of the historian; the
οἷα ἂν γενοιτο
, and the
εἰκος
, of the
Poet. An objector, misapprehending, or misrepresenting, his meaning, might have urged "the incidents of this or that Poet have actually happened; they are
γενομενα
; and therefore, according to your own doctrine, not proper for Poetry, nor the work of a Poet." —To this Aristotle answers, that, though the object of the Poet be not truth, yet his invented probabilities may coincide with truth: and real events, even of the Tragic and extraordinary kind, may have happened as probably and naturally as he has supposed them to happen. He is still, therefore, no less a Poet; not only as having actually invented the incidents, but as having invented them with true Poetic probability. And thus Victorius:—
"Non omnes eos qui fortuitò incidant in res quæ exitum jam habuerint, in culpâ esse; quia fieri possit, ut res aliquæ factæ, ita factæ sint, ut verisimile fit illas factas esse; et esse denique ejusmodi, ut effici potuerint; quo nomine (inquit,) ille Poeta eorum aliquo modo est: officium enim Poetæ est, verisimile sectari, et ea quæ effici possunt sumere: quod in illis rebus illo modo factis non desideratur. Retinet igitur, hâc de causâ, nomen Poetæ."
I confess, indeed, that the passage is, in this way, nothing more than an answer to a senseless cavil. But such cavils, we know, the sophists of those times
215
did not disdain to make, nor Aristotle always disdain to answer. See
cap. xxv.
Transl. Part IV.
76.
mvp-aristotle-comment-76
NOTE 76. P. 83.
9.11
OF SIMPLE FABLES, THE EPISODIC ARE THE WORST.
Why, of simple fables—
ἁπλων μυθων
? as if the fault here noticed were peculiar to the simple fable; that is, as the term is defined in the following chapter, the fable that is without revolution or discovery. But surely this could not be Aristotle's meaning. Something, I am persuaded, is wrong: but I have no probable conjecture to offer; unless it may be thought probable, that
ΑΠΑΝΤΩΝ
, abbreviated perhaps by the transcriber, might be mistaken for
ΑΠΛΩΝ
. What Dacier says in his note is ingenious and true; but by no means, I think, fully accounts for Aristotle's expression, which implies more, than that these unconnected Episodes,
"se rencontrent plus ordinairement dans les fables simples."
Victorius states the difficulty fairly, and only asks, with a modesty which inferior critics often want,
"An valet quicquam ad eum (scrupulum) evellendum, quod Tragedia simplex suâ sponte non valdè elegans est; cui si accesserit hoc vitium, meritò deterrima vocari potest?"
— For my own part, I must answer in the negative. This idea has been adopted by Goulston, and Le Bossu. They make Aristotle say—"Simple fables are not so good as complex, and simple fables that are Episodic, are the worst of all."—This is to supply a meaning, not to find one. For the sense of
Episodes here, see NOTE 37.
77.
mvp-aristotle-comment-77
NOTE 77. P. 83.
9.11b
IN ORDER TO ACCOMMODATE THEIR PIECES TO THE PURPOSES OF RIVAL PERFORMERS, &c.
That actors, as well as Poets, contended for the prize in these Tragic games, or
ἀγωνες
, might be sufficiently proved by a single passage in the Ethics of Aristotle, where, explaining the difference between
προαίρεσις
, and
βούλησις
, he says, "we may will, or desire, things not at all in our own power to effect ; as, that such a particular actor may gain the prize :" —
ὑποκριτην τινα νικαν, ἢ ἀθλητην
216
. The reader may also see a passage in the Rhetoric, lib. iii.
cap. i. which throws some illustration upon this passage, by shewing the great importance of the players at that time, and the dependance of the Poets upon them: for Aristotle there says of these dramatic contests, that,
ἐχει μεῖζον δύνανται ΝΥΝ των ποιητων αι ὑποκριται
: "the actors, now, have greater power—are more regarded, and of more importance to the success of the dramas—than the Poets." A revolution somewhat similar is recorded by Plutarch to have happened between the later Dithyrambic Poets and their
αυληται
, or flute-players : —
το γαρ παλαιον, ἐως εις Μελανιππίδην τον των διθυραμβων ποιητην, συμβεβηκει, τες ΑΥΛΗΤΑΣ παρα των ποιητων λαμβανειν της μισθες, ΠΡΩΤΑΓΩΝΙΣΤΟΥΣΗΣ δηλονότι ΤΗΣ ΠΟΙΗΣΕΩΣ, των δ' αυλητων ΥΠΗΡΕΤΟΥΝΤΩΝ τοις διδασκαλοις· ὑστερον δε [i. e. when, as he says, the music of the flute became more complicated, refined, and difficult,] και τετο διεφθαρη
De Musica. ed. H. St. p. 2091.
. But all this is nothing, to what we have heard of the modern despotism sometimes exercised by great opera singers over the composers.
The effect which this influence of the players might have, in lengthening and disuniting the action, according to Aristotle's complaint here, may be easily imagined. Castelvetro observes, with great probability, of these ill-connected
ἐπεισοδια
,
"Et, peraventura, queste digressioni fatte per compiacere i rappresentatori, riguardavano più à quello che i rappresentatori sapevano bene contrafare, che alla materia naturale della favola ; accioche essi mostraffero quello che valessero, in quello dove erano piu esercitati, et percio piu agevolmente ottenessero la vittoria."
Poet. d' Arist. p. 220.
Here, too, the musical reader, will be again reminded of the privilege so
intemperately exercised by modern Italian singers—the lineal descendants, according to some, of the
ὑποκριται
of the Greek Opera—that of setting aside, whenever they please, both the Poet, and the composer, by the introduction of such songs, from other operas, as they think most favourable to the display of their peculiar talents.
217
The influence of modern actors upon the productions of the Poet, is, perhaps, not less than that of the antient ; but it seems to be exerted most frequently in a contrary way, though one full as likely to spoil the
ἐφεξης
of the piece—that of lopping. The distress of a Poet on such occasions is represented with true comic force by Mr. Sheridan in his
Critic:
Sir, the performer has cut it out, &c.
Sheridan,
Critic, Act III. Sc. 1.
78.
mvp-aristotle-comment-78
NOTE 78. P. 83.
9.11b
BEYOND THEIR POWERS-.
I cannot agree with the commentators, who render
παρα την δυναμιν
,
supra id quod ferat
:—referring
δυναμιν
to the fable itself. I think it means
ultra vires
, beyond the powers of the Poets. And so the Abbé Batteux—
"audelà de fa portée."
The greater the length of the fable, the greater, evidently, is the difficulty of filling it up with consistent probability ; without violating that close connection of incidents, and unity of action, which the rules of Aristotle, and the nature of the drama, require.
79.
mvp-aristotle-comment-79
NOTE 79. P. 83.
9.11c
THAT PURPOSE IS BEST ANSWERED BY SUCH EVENTS AS ARE NOT ONLY UNEXPECTED, BUT UNEXPECTED CONSEQUENCES OF EACH OTHER.
Ταυτα δε γινεται μαλιστα τοιαυτα, και μαλλον όταν γενηται παρα την δόξαν δι' ἀλληλα.
—This is certainly corrupt ; nor does it seem easy to form any probable conjecture, how it stood, as Aristotle left it. Whether the words,
και μαλλον
, be right or not, they serve, as the text at present stands, only to embarrass a passage, which, if we omit them, seems clear enough, both in construction and meaning. In this I perfectly agree with the last Oxford editor
218
; though I think they should not be hastily ejected from the text.
The connection and drift of the whole passage seems to me to be this. Aristotle is here recommending the close connection of incidents, arising probably or necessarily from each other, in a new point of view—as being of great importance, not only to the unity of fable, but to the principal object of Tragedy, the production of terror and pity. For events are best adapted to this purpose, most striking and affecting, when they happen, not only
παρα την δόξαν
, but
παρα την δόξαν ΔΙ' ΑΛΛΗΛΑ
: when the wonder arises, not only from their happening unexpectedly, but from their being the consequences of events from which no one could have expected them to follow. Thus connected, as cause and effect, they will be more surprising, and consequently more affecting, more terrible or piteous
219
, than if they appear to happen by chance—
ἀπο τε αυτοματο και της τύχης — εἰκη — ΜΕΤ᾿ ἀλληλα
only, not
ΔΙ' ἀλληλα
, according to the distinc-
tion in the next chapter. To illustrate this, Aristotle observes, that even events merely fortuitous, are more wonderful and striking, when they are such, as in any degree suggest to the spectator an idea of purpose and design ; like the accident he mentions of the statue that fell upon the murderer of the person represented by it. And all this is connected with what follows, as well as with what precedes ; evidently pointing to his doctrine about the
περιπετεια
in the next chapters.
220
80.
mvp-aristotle-comment-80
NOTE 80. P. 84.
9.12
THE STATUE OF MITYS, &c.
In Plutarch, thus : —
και το Μιτιος τε Αργειε, κατα στασιν ἀναιρεθεντος, ἀνδριαντα χαλκουν ἐν ἀγορᾳ, θεας οὔσης, ἐμπεσειν τῳ κτειναντι τον Μίτιον, και ἀνελειν.
[Περί των βραδεως, &c. p. 980, ed. H. St.]
81.
mvp-aristotle-comment-81
NOTE 81. P. 84.
10.1
FABLES-SIMPLE, AND COMPLICATED.
It is high time to discard the technical jargon of
implex fables, used by Addison, and others, after the French writers .
221
If any authority were requisite for speaking English, I have that of Mr. Harris, who renders Aristotle's
ἁπλοι
, and
πεπλεγμενοι
, by simple, and complicated.
Phil. Inq. p. 146.
82.
mvp-aristotle-comment-82
NOTE 82. P. 84.
10.2
WHEN ITS CATASTROPHE IS PRODUCED WITHOUT EITHER REVOLUTION OR DISCOVERY.
Ἀνευ περιπέτειας ἢ ἀναγνωρισμεως ἡ μεταβασις γινεται.
—
Μεταβασις
, is the change of fortune which constitutes the catastrophe of the piece. This, which is common to all Tragedy, must not be confounded with the
Περιπετεια
, which, however important, is not essential. Le Bossu, Dacier, and others, by not attending to this distinction, have introduced much confusion into one of the clearest parts of Aristotle's work. Thus, Dacier says—
"Il appelle fable simple, celle ou il n'y a ni changement d'etat, ni reconnoissance, et dont le denouement n'est qu'un simple passage de l'agitation et du trouble au repos et à la tranquillité."
He adopts the language of Le Bossu
222
. Undoubtedly, there are Tragedies without a sudden and unexpected reverse of fortune; but where is the Tragedy, antient or modern, in which there is no "changement d'etat?" This would be no other than a Tragedy without a catastrophe. Thus, these writers take
μεταβασις
to signify the mere passage, progress, or suite, of the piece
223
: whereas it clearly signifies a change; a transition from prosperous to adverse, or at least from adverse to more adverse, fortune, or the contrary; as Beni has well observed
224
. The sense of the word is clearly fixed by other passages; and in cap. xviii. he expressly makes the
μεταβασις
, such a change of fortune as is common to every Tragedy.
Ἔστι δε ΠΑΣΗΣ τραγῳδίας, το μεν, δεσις, το δε, λυσις.
λέγω δε δεσιν μεν εἶναι την ἀπ᾿ ἀρχης μεχρι τουτου του μερους ὃ ἔσχατον ἐστιν, ἐξ οὗ ΜΕΤΑΒΑΙΝΕΙ εις ευτυχίαν· λυσιν δε, την ἀπο της ἀρχης ΤΗΣ ΜΕΤΑΒΑΣΕΩΣ μέχρι τέλους.
Mr. Harris, in his
Philol. Inquiries, p. 145, &c. seems to have deserted Aristotle for Le Bossu, who, with little reason, in my opinion, passed with him, as well as with Lord Shaftesbury, for "Aristotle's best interpreter
225
." Throughout his chapter on this subject, above referred to, he appears to me to confound the
μεταβασις
, or change, which Aristotle makes essential to all Tragedy, with that particular kind of change which he denominates
περιπετεια
: for he uses, repeatedly, the word revolution, (his translation of
περιπετεια
,) to express what Aristotle means by
μετάβασις, μεταβαινειν, μεταβαλλειν
. He speaks of
Othello, and
Lear, as complicated fables, and having revolutions. And so, indeed, they have, if we take the word in Aristotle's sense of
μεταβασις
; I do not see that they have, in his sense of
περιπετεια
. In neither of those Tragedies can it, I think, be said, that the catastrophe is produced by a sudden change, to the reverse of what is expected, by the spectator, from the circumstances of the action. At least, with respect to
Othello, this seems to admit of no dispute. [See the next NOTE.]
The Abbé Batteux gives, I think very properly, the
Polieucte of Corneille, as an example of the simple fable.
"La fable simple, qui n' a ni revolution subite, ni reconnoissance; qui commence, continue, s'acheve, sans secousses, ni retours inattendus. Ainsi Polieucte reçoit le baptême, son zele lui fait renverser les autels des payens, il est arrêté, jugé, mis à mort: c'est une fable simple."
Principes de la Lit. tome iii. p. 84.
Victorius, Beni, Piccolomini, and Goulston, agree with me in my idea of this passage, where the words,
συνεχης και μιας
, are not put to characterize the simple fable, as Victorius well observes, but refer merely to that unity and continuity of action, which had been established as necessary to Tragedy in general.
83.
mvp-aristotle-comment-83
NOTE 83. P. 84.
11.1
A REVOLUTION IS----A CHANGE INTO THE REVERSE OF WHAT IS EXPECTED FROM THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF THE ACTION.
Ἔστι δε περιπετεια μεν, ἡ εις το ἐναντιον των πραττομενων μεταβολη, καθαπερ εἴρηται.
The sense of these words has not, I think, been exactly given in any translation I have yet seen, except that of the accurate and judicious Piccolomini:
"La Peripetia intendo io essere una mutation di fortuna, che (fatta nel modo che si é detto,) accaschi al contrario di quello che dalle cose ordite aspettar si potesse."
In literal English "When the things that are doing (
τα πραττομενα
) have an effect the very reverse of what is expected from them." That this is the meaning, appears plainly from the instance immediately subjoined:
ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Οιδιπόδι, ἐλθων ΩΣ ΕΥΦΡΑΝΩΝ τον Οιδίπουν, και ἀπαλλάξων του προς την μητερα φοβου, δηλωσας ὃστις ἦν ΤΟΥΝΑΝΤΙΟΝ ΕΠΟΙΗΣΕ.
As the words—
ἡ εις το ἐναντιον των πρατ. μετ.
are rendered by Dacier, and others "changement de fortune en une fortune contraire" — they express nothing but what is common to Tragedy in general; and
περιπετεια
is confounded with
μεταβασις
. [See last NOTE.] But, it is well observed by Piccolomini,
"Non s'hà, parimente, da intendere, quando diciamo la peripetia esser mutation di fortuna, ogni forte di mutatione da una conditione et stato di fortuna ad un' altro; non potendo esser Tragedia alcuna in cui qualche così fatta mutatione non si ritrovi."
[p. 167.]
In the usual way of translating the passage, a circumstance essential to the
περιπετεια
is entirely omitted in the definition; its being surprising, and contrary to expectation. This, it is true,
226
Dacier has expressed in his version, by the words, "contre ce qu'on avoit attendu." But this is, professedly, his own supplement of Aristotle's text. And indeed I once thought the text defective, and that Aristotle had probably written it—
μεταβολη, ΠΑΡΑ ΤΗΝ ΔΟΞΑΝ, καθαπερ εἴρηται
: alluding to the latter part of cap. ix. But, as I now understand the passage, this idea is sufficiently implied. The words,
καθαπερ εἴρηται
, have puzzled and divided the commentators, by their obscurity of reference. Upon the whole I am inclined to think, they point to what he had said cap. ix. [Transl. Part II. Sect. 7.] which, as I before observed, [NOTE 80,] seems manifestly to be a preparation for this chapter; and in which the words,
παρα την δοξαν δ' ἀλληλα
—"events that are unexpected consequences of each other"—answer to the definition of
περιπετεια
, as here explained.
That this is the meaning of Aristotle's words, I have no doubt. But, perhaps, even the words themselves have been inaccurately rendered, and
πραττομενων
should be constructed, not with
μεταβολη
, but with
ἐναντιον
:
εις το ἐναντιον των πραττομενων
: i. e.
in contrarium eorum quæ aguntur
. This was suggested to me by the literal version which the accurate Mr. Harris has given of the words in his
Philol. Inq. p. 148.
—
"A REVOLUTION is, as has been already said, a change into the reverse of what is doing."
The definition, I think, though its sense be the same in either way, would thus be more clear, and would answer more exactly to what follows .
84.
mvp-aristotle-comment-84
NOTE 84. P. 84.
11.2
THUS IN THE OEDIPUS, THE MESSENGER, &c.
Ἐλθων ὡς εὐφρανων τον Οιδίπουν, και ἀπαλλάξων του προς την μητέρα φοβου.
Alluding, probably, to the very words of the messenger in Sophocles:
Τι δητ ἔγωγ' οὐ ΤΟΥΔΕ ΤΟΥ ΦΟΒΟΥ σε, άναξ,
Ἐπείπερ ΕΥΝΟΥΣ ΗΛΘΟΝ, ΕΞΕΛΥΣΑΜΗΝ;
V. 1012.
85.
mvp-aristotle-comment-85
NOTE 85. P. 86.
11.9
THESE THEN ARE TWO PARTS OF THE FABLE- REVOLUTION AND DISCOVERY.
Δυο μεν οὖν του μυθου μερη ΠΕΡΙ ΤΑΥΤΑ ἐστι, περιπέτεια και ἀναγνωρισις.
"Circa hæc." About what? What are we to understand by
ταυτα
? — Victorius says,
τα πραττομενα
; and Dacier, after him, "Qui regardent le sujet." I cannot be satisfied with this.
Τα πραττομενα
, the subject, the action, are sufficiently expressed by the word
μυθου
. Would Aristotle have said, "These are two parts of the fable relative to the fable?" I have, therefore, neglected the word
περι
in my translation, in conformity to the probable conjecture of Madius. Every reader sees how easily it might get into the text from the word
περιπετεια
which presently follows. I rather think, however, that, retaining
περι
, we should read,
περι Τ' ΑΥΤΑ
: "circa easdem res;"—to point out the close connection of these two parts of the fable, as things of the same kind, and counterparts, as it were, to each other, co-operating to the same effect—the production of terror, pity, surprise, &c. And thus they are afterwards mentioned together, as constituting one species of Tragedy:
ἡ μεν γαρ, πεπλεγμενη, ἧς το όλον ἐστι ΠΕΡΙΠΕΤΕΙΑ ΚΑΙ ΑΝΑΓΝΩΡΙΣΙΣ.
[
cap. xviii.
Transl. Part II. Sect. 19.] The same mode of expression occurs in the
Ethics ad Nicom. lib. iv. cap. 13.
ΠΕΡΙ ΤΑ ΑΥΤΑ δε σχεδον ΕΣΤΙ και ἡ ἀλαζονειας μεσότης
: "in iisdem vertitur." That is, as appears from the context, the virtue, of which he is there speaking, was of the same kind, or class, with that, which was the subject of the foregoing chapter. Both were among the
ἀρεται ὁμιλητικαι
. So, in the conclusion of the subsequent
chapter—
τρεις οὖν αἱ εἴρημεναι ἐν τῷ βιῳ μεσοτητες ΕΙΣΙ δε πασαι ΠΕΡΙ λογων τινων και πραξεων κοινωνιαν.
86.
mvp-aristotle-comment-86
NOTE 86. P. 86.
11.10
DISASTERS, COMPREHEND ALL PAINFUL OR DESTRUCTIVE ACTIONS, &C.
It seems hardly reconcilable with philosophical accuracy, to use such an expression as
ΠΑΘΟΣ ἐστι ΠΡΑΞΙΣ
—defining the suffering to BE the action that causes the suffering. In his
Metaphysics
he puts it thus : —
τα μεγεθη των συμφορων και λυπηρων ΠΑΘΗ λεγεται.
This word,
παθος
, in the sense here used, is very embarrassing to a translator. The word passion, in this sense, of suffering, is, with us, appropriated to a subject, from which it cannot, without a sort of profanation, be transferred to any other. The French, however, have done this without scruple, though the word, when so applied, must be explained before it can be understood. Upon the whole, I could find no single words that seemed to me to answer so nearly to
παθος
, and its adjective,
παθητικην
, in the sense in which they are used here, and in cap. xviii. as
disaster, and its correspondent adjective,
disastrous. Their original,
desastre
, is explained in the
Dict. of the French Academy
, by "accident funeste."
"Wherein I spoke of most
disastrous chances, Of moving
accidents [
παθη
] by flood, and field."
87.
mvp-aristotle-comment-87
NOTE 87. P. 86.
11.10
THE EXHIBITION OF DEATH, &c.
Ἐν τῷ φανερῳ θανατοι.
—A plain passage, which the commentators seem to have taken great pains to perplex with difficulties of their own invention. The plain meaning of the expression is,
exhibited on the stage :
ἐν ὀφθαλμοις φαινομενου ΤΟΥ ΠΑΘΟΥΣ
, as it is expressed in the
Rhetoric, lib. ii. cap. viii. p. 560.
Aristotle is here only explaining the term
παθος
; not laying down a rule, nor deciding concerning the propriety, or impropriety, of such exhibitions. Nothing is more evidently absurd, than the attempts of Dacier and other French critics to transfer the delicacy of their theatre to that of the antients. The scrupulous delicacy of French Tragedy was, I believe, as unknown to the Athenian stage, as its rigid and strutting dignity. A single passage, and that, from the most polished of the three Greek Tragic Poets whose works are extant, may sufficiently prove this; I mean the description of Oedipus tearing out his own eyes, in Sophocles.
Τοιαυτ᾿ ἐφυμνων, πολλακις τε κοὐχ᾿ ἀπαξ
Ἤρασσ᾿, ἐπαιρων βλέφαρα φοινίαι δ᾿ ὁμοῦ
Γλῆναι γενει᾿ ἐτεγγον· οὐδ᾿ ἀνιεσαν
Φονα μύδωσας σταγονας· ἀλλ᾿ ὁμοῦ μελας
Ὄμβρος χαλάζης αιματος ἐτεγγετο.
Oed. Tyr. v. 1284.
227
"Thus oft exclaiming, he his eyelids raised,
And rent the orbs of sight; the bleeding balls
Imbath'd his cheeks, nor ceased the gushing drops,
But rain'd a shower of black and streaming gore."
Potter's Translation.
But Sophocles did not confine himself to description. Oedipus himself immediately appears upon the stage, and exhibits the shocking spectacle of his bloody eyes to the audience. Certainly, the French rule,
"de ne pas ensanglanter le Theatre,"
was not much more strictly observed here by Sophocles, than it was by Shakspeare in his
LEAR, where Gloster's eyes are trodden out,
ἐν φανερῳ
, upon the stage.
I cannot quit this instance from Sophocles, without diverting the reader, (for I am persuaded it will divert him,) with Pere Brumoy's apology, or, rather, with the joint apology of him, M. Dacier, and Boileau.
"Le grand CORNEILLE et ses successeurs Tragiques, ont crû que ce seroit une chose horrible d'exposer Oedipe aveugle et sanglant aux yeux des spectateurs. M. Dacier leur repond trés-bien par ces vers de DESPREAUX, Art Poet. chant ii."
Theatre des Grecs, i. 345.
"Il n'est point de serpent, ni de monstre odieux,
Qui par l'art imité ne puisse plaire aux yeux.
D'un pinceau delicat l'artifice agréable
Du plus affreux objet fait un objet AIMABLE!
Ainsi pour nous CHARMER, la Tragédie en pleurs
D'Oedipe tout sanglant fit parler les douleurs."
Boileau, Art Poet.
This is pushing Aristotle's principle, of the pleasure we receive from the imitation even of disagreeable objects, rather farther than, I believe, he thought of.
228
A critic of much more taste and much less prejudice, speaking of the
Philoctetes of Sophocles, has observed,
"that the antients thought bodily pains and wounds, &c. (
περιωδυνίαι και τρωσεις
) proper objects to be repre-
sented on the stage. See also the Trachiniæ of Sophocles, and the lamentations of Hercules in it."
Hippolytus, after having been dragged over the rocks, and almost torn to pieces, by his fiery coursers, appears upon the stage with his mangled and bleeding limbs.
230
—But, according to Boileau, Dacier, &c. these are all "objets aimables."
88.
mvp-aristotle-comment-88
NOTE 88. P. 86.
12.3
THE
COMMOI ARE FOUND IN SOME ONLY.
The Greek says
ἴδια δε, τα ἀπο σκηνης ΚΑΙ κομμοι
. Here, the
κομμος
, and the
τα ἀπο σκηνης
, are represented as distinct things. But in the definition afterwards,
Κομμος
appears to be the name given to the joint lamentation of the chorus and the actors.
Κομμος δε, θρηνος κοινος χορου και ἀπο σκηνης
. Victorius states this difficulty, but without giving any satisfactory solution.
And indeed I see no way of reconciling these passages, unless we suppose Aristotle to have expressed himself very loosely and inaccurately, and to have meant, that
κομμος
was the name appropriated to that part of the
Χορικον
which joined or alternated with one or more of the —
ἀπο σκηνης
— i. e. the actors; so that by,
Κομμος δε, θρηνοι κοινά χορου και ἀπο σκηνης
, we are to understand only, that
Κομμος
was that
θρηνος
or lamentation of the chorus, in which the actors, alternately, took part; as if the Greek had been thus : —
θρηνοι χορου ῾ΟΥ ΚΟΙΝΩΝΟΥΣΙΝ οἱ ἀπο σκηνης
. And so,
τα ἀπο σκηνης ΚΑΙ κομμοι
would only mean, the
κομμοι
of the chorus with the
ἀπο σκηνης
— that is, mixed with the lamentation of the actors, or persons of the drama.
But it seems more for the credit of our philosophical critic, to give up the first of these passages as corrupt, and to adhere to the plain sense of the definition. I have, therefore, taken no notice of the words,
τα ἀπο σκηνης
, in my version. Nothing is lost by the suppression. The sense of the word
κομμος
is left, like that of the other terms, to be fixed by its definition.
89.
mvp-aristotle-comment-89
NOTE 89.
12.5
P. 86. BETWEEN ENTIRE CHORAL ODES.
I confess myself not satisfied as to the meaning of this expression,
ΟΛΩΝ χορικων μελων
. I have therefore adhered to the fair and literal translation of the words. But what is an entire choral ode or song? Is it that, which is in the regular lyric form, in strophe and antistrophe? So it seems most natural to understand it. But a difficulty meets us. For when the
Παροδος
, as it often, and indeed almost always, happens, is not such a regular Antistrophic Ode
231
, what name is to be given to that part of the Tragedy, which lies between the
παροδος
and the first Antistrophic Ode? It cannot make a part of the
Προλογος
, for that ends with the
Παροδῳ
. The Exode is out of the question. There remains only the Episode; and to that it cannot belong, consist-
ent with Aristotle's definition of
Επεισοδιον
, because it will not be, according to this sense of
ὅλων
, "between entire choral Odes." If we take entire to mean, all choral, i. e. not broken and interrupted by the
ἀπο σκηνης
, or the persons of the drama, we shall still be embarrassed with the same difficulty: for, whenever the
παροδος
is not, in this sense, entire, which is frequently the case, the part between that and the first entire Ode, will be without a name.
Shall we, then, with some commentators, suppose Aristotle by
ὅλων χορικων μέλων
, to have meant only,
ὅλου χορου μελων
— i. e. melodies sung by the whole chorus?
232
This removes the difficulty. Yet I can hardly conceive, that he would have expressed himself in a manner so wantonly ambiguous, when the clear and decisive expression —
ὅλου χορου
, which he presently after uses, was so obvious.
233
From an accurate and philosophical writer, one would naturally expect a chapter of definitions to be clear. But whoever expects it here will certainly be disappointed. Almost every definition, to be perfectly intelligible, wants other definitions, which are not given, and which the obscure and imperfect information to be found in other antient authors will not enable us to supply.
90.
mvp-aristotle-comment-90
NOTE 90. P. 86.
12.7
THE PARODE IS THE FIRST SPEECH OF THE WHOLE CHORUS.
Παροδος μεν πρωτη ΛΕΞΙΣ ὁλου χορου.
—Though
λεξις
, in its proper signification, is mere speech, yet it appears to have been occasionally extended to such melody as imitated speech, and to have answered nearly to the modern term,
recitative. [See
NOTE 46
, and particularly the passage from Plutarch at the end of it.] And such, I have no doubt, is the sense in which it is here used, to distinguish the melody of the Parodos from that of the regular choral odes; which I suppose to have been a more varied, measured, and, as we may, not improperly, term it, a more musical melody. For want of understanding this distinction, the commentators have made strange confusion, by taking
λεξις
, either in its literal sense of mere speaking, or in a sense absolutely synonymous with
μελος
, as Dacier does.
234
But it is hardly to be imagined, that Aristotle would use the word
λεξις
without any reason; and, that the
Παροδος
could not be mere speech, or declamation, such as that of our stage, seems evident enough from the expression,
λεξις ὉΛΟΥ χορου
. A number may sing together, in a kind of measured recitative, or simple chanting; but they cannot well speak together, without intolerable confusion. This would be that very
χορος διαλεκτικος
, which Demetrius mentions as a thing absurd and unheard of
235
.
There is a singular passage in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, which affords, I think, a strong confirmation, both of the sense which I have here given to the word
λεξις
, and of the propriety of its application in that sense to the choral
Παροδος
. In the 11th section of his treatise
De Struct. Orat.
in order to shew, how little prosody was regarded by the composers of the Tragic melodies, he criticises the melody of the following lines from the
Orestes of Euripides:
Σίγα, σιγα, λευκον ίχνος ἀρβυλης
Τιθείτε, μη κτυπειτε
Αποπροβατ᾿ ἐκεισ᾿, ἀποπροθι κοιτας.
v. 140.
Now it is remarkable, 1. that he calls this,
ΜΕΛΟΣ
, and yet represents it as said by Electra:
Ευριπίδου ΜΕΛΟΣ, ὁ πεποιηκε την Ηλεκτραν ΛΕΓΟΥΣΑΝ προς τον χορον.
—2. That the melody, to which these words were set, was the simplest possible; a kind of
chanting recitative. The three first words, for instance, were set to one note.
Σίγα, σίγα, λευκον
—and in other words too, the same tone, as this author clearly informs us, was frequently repeated
236
. This may be regarded as somewhat of a musical curiosity. For it is an authentic, though indeed a very scanty and imperfect specimen, of one part of the dramatic choral music of the Greeks.
3dly, This very melody was probably that of the
Παροδος
of this Tragedy. Dionysius, indeed, gives these words to Electra; but in all the editions of Euripides which I have seen, the two first lines are given to the chorus; with more propriety, I think, if we attend to what goes before. Electra had just said to the chorus, on their coming in while Orestes was sleeping;
Ω φίλταται γυναικες, ἡσυχῳ ποδι
Χωρείτε, μη ψοφιτε, μηδ' ἔσω κτυπα
v. 134.
The words, therefore, which Dionysius, quoting probably by memory, attributes to Electra, would seem to come more naturally from the mouths of the choral virgins, repeating to each other the caution she had given them. But whether this be so or not, yet, that this was the first entry of the chorus upon the stage, is clear from the preceding speech of Electra: and the Lyric part, which follows that speech, if it does not begin with, probably contains, at least, the
πρωτην λεξιν ὁλου χορου
; being all in the regular choral form of Strophe and Antistrophe, and, in all probability, set throughout to melody of the same kind.
Perhaps the whole chorus might not begin to sing, till the third Strophe,
Ποτνια, ποτνια νυξ.
—If,
as Victorius contends, this be not the Parodos, it cannot begin before, v. 316.
Αἰ, αἰ, Δρομαδες ὡς—κ. τ. αλ.
But, the very application of the word
παροδος
, which properly signifies the entry, or arrival of the chorus, to the
πρωτη λεξις
, or first speech of the whole chorus, shews, I think, sufficiently, the close connection of the two things
237
; and that we are never to look for that first speech, at such a distance from the first entrance of the chorus.
But, it may, perhaps, be objected to the distinction I understand here between
λεξις
and
μελος
, that it will expose us to the very difficulty mentioned in the last Note: it will make Aristotle's enumeration of the parts into which Tragedy is divided, incomplete; because, if we admit it, the part between the
Παροδος
and the first
Στασιμον
or regular Ode, will want a name. For, if any thing, it must be
Επεισοδιον
; but this, it may be said, it cannot be, because it will not be, according to Aristotle's definition,
μεταξυ χορικων ΜΕΛΩΝ
; the Parode being not
μελος
, but
λεξις
.—It seems a sufficient answer to this objection, to observe, that
λεξις
, here, is not opposed to
μελος
in general, but only to a particular species of
μελος
. Strictly speaking, the simplest chant, or even such recitative, as approaches the nearest to common speech, is yet as much
μελος
, melody, music, as the most refined Opera song. It is called
λεξις
, only comparatively. Nay, the word
μελος
is sometimes, in a wider sense, applied even to speech itself. And so, above, we have
λεκτικη ἉΡΜΟΝΙΑ
.
238
Aristotle, therefore, in the expression
χορικων ΜΕΛΩΝ
, may be supposed, without any inconsistence, to include, what, afterwards, in the particular definition of
παροδος
, where distinction was necessary, he denominates
λεξις
.
It must be owned, that Aristotle's parsimonious brevity has left some confusion in this subject; but, in the illustrations of his commentators, it is "confusion worse confounded." And this has arisen from their applying to the Greek drama, without the slightest foundation, the Roman division into five acts. It is now, I believe, pretty well understood, that such an idea is totally inapplicable to the Greek Tragedy
239
. If we must talk of acts, it would be more proper to say they had three; forming our division upon the three parts, which, according to Aristotle, were essential to every drama, the
Προλογος
, the
Επεισόδιον
, and the
Εξοδος
; not upon the number of choral odes, which is different in different dramas. In the
Trachiniæ, for example, there are not fewer than six choral odes. If these are to determine the number of acts, as Dacier contends, this Tragedy will consist of seven. Brumoy, to divide this piece into five acts, is reduced to admit an entire ode in the middle of his first act; so that the Episode, which Aristotle defines to be that part which is
μεταξυ ὁλων χορικων μελων
, begins in the
Προλογος
, and before the
Παροδος
, which, according to Brumoy, must be the second ode. Another ode he is obliged to admit in the middle of his last act; contrary to Aristotle's definition of
Εξοδος
.—Dacier makes the prologue of the
Oedipus Coloneus consist of 700 verses
240
. Nothing can be more improbable, or more inconsistent with Aristotle's idea of its purpose. [See
NOTE 40
.] But he was forced into this absurdity,
only by the supposed necessity of reducing the intervals between the odes to three, and, consequently, the acts, (adding the prologue and exode,) to five. For if the true parode be at v. 118, (
Ὁρα τις ἀρ ἦν; κ. τ. αλ.
) as I doubt not it is, there will then be four such intervals, and, consequently, six acts. He repeats the same mistakes in dividing the
Phœnissæ, in which there are five regular odes, as in many other of the Greek Tragedies. In the
Oedipus Tyrannus he makes the ode,
Εἰπερ ἐγω μαντις εἰμι
, (v. 1096,) come in the middle of an act
241
; and then, because he chose to place it so, is forced to deny that it was sung, though it is in the most regular Lyric form.
The expression,
ΠΡΩΤΗ λεξις ὁλου χορου
, seems to imply, that other choral parts, beside the Parode, were also
λεξις
; i. e. were sung by the whole chorus in the same sort of chanting and simple melody. But who will undertake to distinguish these parts, and to tell us, exactly, what was Air, and what Recitative? what was sung by the whole choir, and what was,
à voce sola
?
242
—I will not bewilder my reader and myself in a labyrinth without a clue.
The scholiast upon the
Phœnissæ (v. 212.) says, that the
Παροδος
was sung by the chorus, "as they entered upon the stage." —
Παροδος δε, ἐστιν ᾠδη χορου βαδίζοντος, ἀδομενη ἅμα τῇ εισοδῳ, ὡς το—Σιγα, σίγα
, &c. And, indeed, in the example he here gives from the
Orestes, the entrance of the choral troop is clearly marked by what precedes. Electra says—
Αἰδ᾿ οὖν ΠΑΡΕΙΣΙ τοις ἐμοις θρηνημασι
Φίλαι συνῳδοι.
v. 132.
And this is frequently the case. Thus, in the
Phœnissæ, that the
Τύριον οἶδμα λιπουσ'
—v. 212, (not,
Καδμεα ἔμολε
—v. 651, as Dacier makes it,) is the true Parode, as, indeed, it is expressly called by the author of the Greek argument prefixed to the
Persæ of Æschylus, is confirmed by this passage, announcing the entry of the choral virgins, in the preceding Iambics, where the old attendant desires Antigone to retire:
ὄχλος γαρ, ὡς ταραγμος εισῆλθεν πόλιν,
ΧΩΡΕΙ [is coming] γυναικων προς δομους τυραννικους.
v. 206.
Thus too, in the
Oedipus Coloneus, the first appearance of the chorus is thus announced by Antigone:
Σίγα· ΠΟΡΕΥΟΝΤΑΙ γαρ ΩΔΕ δη τινες
Χρονῳ παλαιοι
v. 111.
And the
Παροδος
immediately follows, v. 117. In the
Iphigenia in Tauris, the arrival of the choral women is marked by themselves:
ΧΟ. —ΕΜΟΛΟΝ τι νεον ; &c.
v. 137.
See also, v. 65.
Ουπω----παρεισιν
.
The Parode is not less distinctly marked in the
Medea, v. 131.
Χο. Ἔκλυον φωναν κ. τ. ἀλ.
in the
Heraclidæ, where the chorus is called in by Iolaus, v. 69:—in the
Helena, v. 179:—in the
Hercules, v. 107, &c.
When the attendant spirit, in
Comus, "opens the business of the drama to a solitary forest, without an audience," he does no more than Venus
243
, and the ghost of Polydorus
244
, and Iphigenia
245
, and many others, in the Tragedies of Euripides, had done before him. The learned and ingenious editor of Milton's Occasional Poems says, that, "in a Greek Tragedy, this objection would
have been obviated by the chorus, which was always present
246
;" but I am afraid the want of "recollection" must be transferred from Milton to himself. There are not, I think, more than three or four Greek Tragedies, in which the chorus is present from the beginning
247
.
This
Παροδος
, or entry of the chorus, probably made one of the most splendid and popular parts of the
ΟΨΙΣ
, or shew, of the antient Tragedy. It is mentioned by Aristotle, in his
Nicomachean Ethics, as a custom of the Megarians, who were a luxurious and ostentatious people, to be at the expence of furnishing purple dresses for the
Παροδος
even of their comic stage
248
. It appears, however, from a curious fragment of Menander, to have been a practice, not uncommon with the Greek Managers, to place mutes among their choral singers, in order to complete the visible number requisite:
— ὥσπερ των χορων
Οὐ παντες ἀδουσ᾿, ἀλλ᾿ ἀφωνοι δυο τίνες
ἢ τρεις παρεστηκασι, ΠΑΝΤΩΝ ΕΣΧΑΤΟΙ,
Ἐις τον ἀριθμον —και τοῦθ᾿ ὁμοιως πως ἔχει
Χωραν κατεχομεν, ζωσι δ᾿ οἷς ἔστιν βιος.
Menand. and Philem. Reliq. ed. Clerici, p. 221.
As in a chorus
All do not sing, but, in the hindmost ranks,
Some two or three stand mute to make a number,
So is it here;—we serve to fill a place;
They only live, who have the means of living.
91.
mvp-aristotle-comment-91
NOTE 91. P. 86.
12.8
THE STASIMON INCLUDES ALL THOSE CHORAL ODES THAT ARE WITHOUT ANAPÆSTS AND TROCHEES.
Στασιμον δε, μελος χορου το ἀνευ ἀναπαιστου και τροχαιου.
If we are to understand this strictly, as expressing the exclusion of those feet from the regular odes, I cannot perceive it to be true. Dacier, therefore, understands only, that those feet were very rarely used in those Odes, compared with the
Παροδος
, which he calls "premier chant du chœur;" in which, he says, and very truly, that they prevail.
"Ces deux pieds----regnent,"
&c. p. 179. It is possible that Aristotle might mean this; but it is not what he says. He says, "that
μελος
—that lyric part, of the chorus, which is without anapæsts and trochees." I rather think, he means only those Odes, the regular stanzas of which are not broken and interrupted
κατα συστημα
, (according to the metrical language,) like the Parodos, as I take it to be, of the
Antigone,—
Ἀκτις ἀελίου
—v. 100—that of the
Philoctetes—
Τι χρη
—v. 136, and of the
Prometheus of Æschylus. And this, I believe, will, in general, be found true of the regular Odes subsequent to the
Παροδος
. For, in the
Παροδος
itself, the general prevalence of the anapæstic measure must be evident to every one who turns over the Greek Tragedians.
92.
mvp-aristotle-comment-92
NOTE 92. P. 86.
12.9
THE COMMOS, &c.
Κομμου Ἡγειτο γυναικων μυρια πληθυς, μετα ΚΟΜΜΟΥ ΚΑΙ ΟΛΟΛΥΓΗΣ
—τουτεστι, γοου και ὀδυρμου. — Suidas.
The phrase,
ἀπο σκηνης
, is commonly used by Aristotle to denote the actors, as distinguished from the chorus; because, as Jul. Pollux tells us,
ΣΚΗΝΗ μεν ΥΠΟΚΡΙΤΩΝ ἴδιον, ἡ δε ὀρχηστρα του χορου
249
. Thus,
Prob. xlix. of Sect. 19
, speaking of the Dorian and Hypophrygian modes, he says, they were both,
χορω μεν ἀναρμοστα, τοις δε ἀπο σκηνης οἰκειότερα
.—So,
Prob. xxx.
and
Prob. xv.
τα ἀπο σκηνης
, (the dialogue,) is opposed to
τα του χορου
the chorus. I was much surprised, therefore, to find the meaning of this phrase so widely mistaken, in the late Camb. edit. where
ἀπο σκηνης
is thus explained:
"id est, ἀτεχνως—ad choragi munus, non Poetæ, pertinens
250
."
An example of the
Κομμος
, pointed out by Victorius, may be found in the
Andromache of Euripides, v. 1197. I know not why some of the commentators confine these joint lamentations of chorus and actors to the Exode, or what they call the last act. They are often, I think, to be found in other parts of the drama;
"dans le cours des actes,"
as Dacier rightly observes. We have an example of this between Tecmessa and the chorus, in the
Ajax, v. 901.
Ἰω, μοι μοι—
. Another occurs very early in the
Iphigenia in Tauris, v. 143, &c. where Iphigenia, assisted by the choral virgins, her attendants, performs the funereal libation to the manes of her brother, whom she supposes to be dead, and sings a funereal dirge. The chorus, indeed, have so small a part in this lamentation, that it may be thought hardly to answer Aristotle's definition of
θρηνοι κοινοι
&c. But this, in fact, seems no objection, because the lamentation of Iphigenia is broken off abruptly, as Mr. Markland has well observed, at v. 235, by the arrival of the shepherd. I consider it, therefore, only as an unfinished
Κομμος
. But, that it answers to that idea, appears, I think, from the whole cast of it; from the frequent occurrence of the interjections,
φευ, φευ, ἐ, ἐ, αἰ, αἰ οἰ μοι
, &c. and of the very word,
θρηνος
, throughout, and, from the answer of the chorus:
Ω ὁμωαι, δυσθρηνητοις
Ως θρηνοις ἔγκειμαι.
v. 143.
Χορ. —ΑΝΤΙΨΑΛΜΟΥΣ ᾠδας
Ὕμνον τ᾿ Ασιηταν σοι
Βαρβαρον ἰαχαν
Δεσποινα γ᾿ ἐξαυδασω,
Ταν ἐν ΘΡΗΝΟΙΣΙ μουσαν
Νέκυσί μέλεον
251
.
To thee thy faithful train
The Asiatic hymn will raise,
A doleful, a barbaric strain,
Responsive to thy lays,
And steep in tears the mournful song,
Notes which to the dead belong;
Dismal notes attun'd to woe
By Pluto in the realms below.—
Potter's Eurip. v. 206.
93.
mvp-aristotle-comment-93
NOTE 93. P. 87.
13.2
THIS RAISES DISGUST, RATHER THAN TERROR OR COMPASSION.
Literally, "for this is neither terrible, nor piteous, but shocking."
οὐ γαρ φοβερον, οὐδε ἐλεεινον τουτο, ἀλλα μιαρον ἐστιν.
—But we certainly must not understand Aristotle to assert, that no pity is
excited by the sufferings of an exemplary character. This would be directly contrary to his own account of pity:
Ἐλεος μεν, περι τον ἀναξιον
252
. He must mean only, that they are rather shocking, than affecting; as it is well rendered by Piccolomini;
" un così fatto caso non hà, nè del terrible, (per dir così,) nè del compassionevole; ma più tosto hà dell' abominevole, et dello scellerato."
That is, as this clear and exact, though prolix, writer has explained it in his subsequent annotation,
"quello affetto dell' odio et dell' abomitione, sopravanza in modo l'affetto del timore, et quel della compassione, che gli ricuopre, et gli asconde, et supera, in modo che quasi non si fan sentire."
Μιαρον
Shocking, disgusting, &c. because contrary to our established ideas of justice, and to every moral sentiment of our nature. History, indeed, must represent facts as they are; without any regard to the sentiments they may excite
253
. But the case is far otherwise with the fictions of the Poet. We think he ought not to make such a representation of things. We consider it as discouraging to virtue, as immoral,—even, in some degree, as irreligious. What reader of
CLARISSA does not find the pity, the pleasurable pity, at least, which it is the object of such a work to excite, frequently counteracted, and diminished, to say no more, by some indignant feelings of this kind? The story of
Sidney Biddulph, though a work of considerable merit in the execution, is liable to the same objection. The mind of a reader is harrassed and revolted throughout by the most improbable and determined perverseness of unfortunate combinations; and shocked, at last, by the wanton production of misery, neither deserved, nor likely.
Οὐ φοβερον, οὐδε ἐλεεινον τουτο, ἀλλα μιαρον.
Fontenelle says, in perfect conformity with Aristotle,
"Plus le heros est aimé, plus il est convenable de le rendre heureux à la fin. Il ne faut point renvoyer le spectateur avec la douleur de plaindre la destinée d'un homme vertueux."
Reflex. sur la Poet. Sect. 52.
To do justice to the author's meaning, two other things should be kept in mind: 1. That, by his
ἐπιεικης
, he here means a character of consummate virtue, whose misfortunes were not drawn upon him by any fault of his own. This is evident from what follows. The sense of the word is sufficiently fixed by its opposite,
ΣΦΟΔΡΑ πονηρον
, as well as by the equivalent expression,
ἀρετῃ ΔΙΑΦΕΡΩΝ και δικαιοσυνη
, in his description of the proper character for Tragedy
254
. 2. That he presently afterwards softens a little the rigour of his precept as here delivered, by saying, that the character should be either such as he had prescribed, "or better rather than worse :"
βελτιονος μᾶλλον ἢ χειρονος
.
94.
mvp-aristotle-comment-94
NOTE 94. P. 87.
13.3
FOR IT IS NEITHER GRATIFYING IN A MORAL VIEW, &C.
Οὐτε γαρ ΦΙΛΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΝ
—Without entering into a long discussion of all that has been urged by the commentators in favour of the different senses they have assigned to the word
φιλανθρωπον
here, I shall only say, that, upon the most attentive comparison of this passage with another, in cap. xviii. where the term again occurs, it appears to me, that the full meaning of it is, gratifying to philanthropy; pleasing by its conformity to our natural sense of justice, by its moral tendency . Indeed this seems to follow from the word
μιαρον
, to which
φιλανθρωπον
is opposed. The representation of a good man (
ἐπιεικης
) made miserable is
μιαρον
—disgusting,
shocking . Why? Plainly, on account of its evident injustice, and immoral tendency. The representation of a very bad man (
σφοδρα πονηρος
) punished by calamity, is
φιλανθρωπον
; —that is, pleasing to the spectator, on the same principle, from its opposite tendency.
A singular, but somewhat similar, use is made of the same word in Plutarch's dialogue
περι Μεσικης
; where, speaking of the wicked innovations of the more modern musicians, Timotheus, Philoxenus, &c. he says of them
φιλοκαινοι γεγονασι, τον ΦΙΛΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΝ και θεματικον ΝΥΝ ΟΝΟΜΑΖΟΜΕΝΟΝ διωξαντες
. M. Burette's note upon this is perfectly unsatisfactory. I believe we should read—
ΤΟ φιλανθρωπον και ΘΕΑΤΡΙΚΟΝ κ. τ. αλ.
—i. e. "being lovers of novelty, they affect what is now termed the pleasing and theatrical style". The Theatre, we know, was considered by the purists of that time, as the great source of corruption in Music. The reader may see how Plutarch rails, on this subject, p. 2081, and 2089 ; where he laments—
παντας τες μεσικης άπτομενες προς την ΘΕΑΤΡΙΚΗΝ προσκεχωρηκεναι μεσαν
. It appears, from his expression,
ΝΥΝ ὀνομαζομενον
, that this was a new and fashionable use of the word
φιλανθρωπον
; which, from the sense of pleasing to natural benevolence, (as in the passage of Aristotle,) seems to have been extended to signify, what was pleasing, and grateful, to the popular taste, in general ; in opposition to those more chaste and severe productions of the artist, which aimed only at the gratification of the critical, and the learned. And, indeed, no sort of philanthropy is more common, in all times, and in every art, than that of accommodation to the public taste.
255
95.
mvp-aristotle-comment-95
NOTE 95. P. 87.
13.4
OUR TERROR, BY SOME RESEMBLANCE BETWEEN THE SUFFERER AND OURSELVES.
Thus, in the Rhetoric, it is recommended to the Orator, as one method of exciting terror in his hearers,
τες ΟΜΟΙΟΥΣ δεικνυναι πασχοντας, ἢ πεπονθότας
256
. Aristotle's doctrine concerning the importance of this resemblance to ourselves in the object of the passion to be excited, and the extent he gives to the word
ὁμοιος
, may be seen in the passages of his Rhetoric referred to in the margin
257
. The resemblance, however, here particularly meant, is undoubtedly resemblance of character. This is well explained by M. Batteux in few words:
"Un crime atroce, un horreur de scelerat, revolte le spectateur, et par cette revolte même, le rassure contre la crainte; parcequ'il se sent aussi eloigné du malheur, qu'il l'est du crime."
Quatre Poetiques, tom. i. p. 307.
Or, as it is more fully developed by Piccolomini,
"Riputando, per il più, gl' uomini se stessi buoni, o almeno non cattivi, ed in somma, non degni di male; e, per conseguente, dissimili à quelle persone inique, in cui veggon' il male, et in questo differenti da esse, che elle lo meritano, ed essi non lo meritano: non vengon' à dubitar di cadere in tai mali, et, conseguentemente, non ne nasce timore in loro."
p. 194.
96.
mvp-aristotle-comment-96
NOTE 96. P. 87.
13.5
NOR YET INVOLVED IN MISFORTUNE BY DELIBERATE VICE, OR VILLAINY; BUT BY SOME ERROR OF HUMAN FRAILTY.
Μητε δια κακιαν και μοχθηρίαν μεταβαλλων εις την δυστυχιαν, άλλα δι' ἁμαρτίαν τινα
— Thus, in the
Ethic. Nicom. V. 10. p. 69.
he uses
μοχθηρια
, and
κακια
, as synonymous: and,
VII. 9
; where he says of
μοχθηρια
, that it is
ΣΥΝΕΧΗΣ πονηρια
—a vitious character, disposition, habit, &c. It also implies deliberate choice and intention, (
— όταν δε ἐκ προαιρέσεως, μοχθηρία
,
V. 8.
) in opposition to
ἁμαρτια
, which excludes
προαιρεσις
, and is
ἄνευ ΚΑΚΙΑΣ
.
To understand rightly what the philosopher says in this part of his work on Poetry, and especially his application of his doctrine to such characters as Oedipus and Thyestes, we ought carefully to take his own sense of his own words. For want of this, Dacier
258
confounds himself and his readers in his note about Thyestes. He mistakes Aristotle's sense of
ἁμαρτια
. Dacier's "involontaire" includes both
ἀκουσιον
, and
ἀπροβουλευτον
, which Aristotle dis-
tinguishes; his
ἁμαρτηματα
being not involuntary, but only, not
ἐκ προαιρέσεως
. See the whole
cap. x, of lib. 5
, as above. One passage, in
cap. ix. of lib. 7
, will particularly illustrate Aristotle's examples.
O ΑΚΡΑΤΕΙΣ
(such were Oedipus and Thyestes, men of ungovernable passion,)
ΑΔΙΚΟΙ μεν οὐκ εἰσι
, (i. e. are not unjust men—not
κακοι, μοχθηροι
, of bad dispositions, &c.)
ΑΔΙΚΟΥΣΙ δε
yet they commit transient and occasional wrong,
δια παθους
, as he says elsewhere
259
. The objections made by Corneille, Fontenelle, and other critics, to such subjects as that of the Oedipus, which they hold to be improper for Tragedy on account of the supposed fatality of the crimes committed, are well and solidly answered in an excellent note of the Abbé Batteux upon this passage.
97.
mvp-aristotle-comment-97
NOTE 97. P. 88.
13.10
UPON THE STAGE AND IN THE DRAMATIC CONTESTS. —
Ἐπι των σκηνων και των ἀγωνων
i. e. merely, in the representation. There seems to be no more foundation for the distinction which Dacier here supposes, between
σκηνη
, and
ἀγων
, than for the same distinction between
ἀγων
, and
ὑποκριται
, in the similar expression,
ἀγωνος και ὑποκριτων
, in
cap. vi.
98.
mvp-aristotle-comment-98
NOTE 98. P. 88.
13.10
EURIPIDES THE MOST TRAGIC OF ALL POETS.
More, however, it has been observed, with respect to the emotion of pity, than that of terror. And so, Quintilian.
"In affec- tibus cum omnibus mirus, tum in iis qui MISERATIONE CONSTANT, facile præcipuus."
[lib. x. c. 1.]
Yet the powers of this admirable, though unequal, genius, were by no means confined to emotions of tenderness and pity. He, too, as one of "Nature's darlings," possessed that "golden key," which can not only "ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears," but can "unlock" also, and at the same time, the "gates of horror," and of "thrilling fears".
As proofs of this, I am tempted to produce two passages of this Poet, which I could never read without shuddering. In that scene between Medea and Jason, in which, previous to the execution of her horrid vengeance, she deludes him with feigned reconciliation and submission, when Jason, addressing the children, says,
Ιδοιμι δ᾿ ὑμας εὐτραφεις ἡβης τελος
Μολοντας, ἐχθρων των ἐμων ὑπερτερος.
v. 930.
"O may I see you blooming in the prime
"Of manhood, and to every virtue train'd,
"Superior to my foes!"
Mr. Potter's Transl. v. 989.
—Medea turns away her face and weeps and when Jason asks the reason of her tears, she answers,
Οὐδεν—τεκνων τωνδ᾿ ἐννουμενη περι.
"Nothing: I was but thinking of my sons."
"And why," says Jason again, "lament thus over these children?" —Medea, then, knowing, but veiling in ambiguity, her dreadful purpose of destroying them, replies,
Ἐτικτον αυτους —ΖΗΝ Δ᾿ ΟΤ᾿ ΕΞΗΥΧΟΥ ΤΕΚΝΑ, ΕΙΣΗΛΘΕ Μ᾿ ΟΙΚΤΟΣ, ΕΙ ΓΕΝΗΣΕΤΑΙ ΤΑΔΕ!
Potter's Eurip. v. 1000.
"I am their mother:—when thy wish was breath'd
"That they might live, a piteous thought arose,
"If that might be!"
The other passage is in the
Electra. In the fine scene between Orestes and Electra, immediately after the murder of their mother, Orestes asks his sister,
Κατείδες οἷον ἁ ταλαιν᾿ ἑων πεπλων
Ἔβαλεν, ἔδειξε, μαζον ἐν φοναις;
v. 1206.
Mark'd you not, how my mother, e'er I struck her,
Withdrew her robe, and to our view expos'd
The breast that nourish'd us!
I know not what more can be said to the praise of Euripides, than, that no one, I believe, can read this scene without being reminded of the
MACBETH OF SHAKSPEARE.
99.
mvp-aristotle-comment-99
NOTE 99. P. 88.
13.11
THAT WHICH IS OF A DOUBLE CONSTRUCTION, AND ALSO ENDS IN TWO OPPOSITE EVENTS TO THE GOOD, AND TO THE BAD, CHARACTERS.
ΣΥΣΤΑΣΙΣ, ἡ --ΣΥΣΤΑΣΙΝ ἐχουσα
. . . . That construction "which has a double construction." Can this be as the author left it? I cannot but suspect the first
συστασις
to be an interpolation. Without it, all will go on well. —
Ἡ μεν οὖν—καλλιστη Τραγῳδια ἐκ ταυτης της συστάσεως ἐστι. Δευτερα δε, [sc. Τραγῳδια,] ἡ πρωτη λεγομενη ὑπο τινων ἐστι· ἡ διπλην τε την συστασιν ἐχουσα, και τελευτωσα
&c.
The particle,
TE
, here, is neglected by most of the commentators and translators, who, accordingly, of two distinct things make one only; understanding Aristotle, by his
διπλη συστασις
, to mean only a fable that has a double catastrophe, ending oppositely to opposite characters. But the expression is, "that has
both a double construction, and a double catastrophe."
διπλην ΤΕ την συστασιν. ΚΑΙ τελευτωσα κ. τ. αλ.
We must not, however, confound this double construction with duplicity of action, and what we call double plots. I believe Castelvetro, who did not let the
te
escape him, has explained it rightly.
"Dice, che questa constitutione di favola è doppia, percioche ha due maniere di persone, l'una di buone, o di mezzane, et l'altra di scelerate."
(p. 293.)
An explanation that will come still better recommended to the reader by the coincident opinion of the learned and accurate author of
Critical Observations on Books, antient and modern
; who has given the following explanatory version of this passage
260
:
"That constitution of an Epic tale, which is reckoned the first by some, is in reality but the second in point of excellence, namely, that which, like the Odyssey, has a double set of characters, one virtuous, and one vitious, and wherein the action also ends contrarywise to the virtuous and vitious agents, so that the former terminate in prosperity, and the latter in adversity."
— These two things, though closely connected, are evidently distinct. There may be a double set of characters, where yet there is no contrariety of catastrophe, but all ends well to all. Such a fable, as Aristotle describes, though a very different thing from our plot and under-plot, yet, as it consists of opposite characters, opposite interests, and opposite events, may well enough be considered as of a double construction —
διπλης συστασεως
. Unity of action, indeed, upon Aristotle's
principles, was essential both to the single and to the double fable; yet that unity admits of degrees, and the double fable was less strictly one action than the single. The single fable might be compared to a single stream: the plot and under-plot, to two separate, though contiguous, and now and then intermingling, streams: Aristotle's fable of double construction, to two opposite collateral currents, (if such a thing may be imagined,) in the same channel.
100.
mvp-aristotle-comment-100
NOTE 100. P. 89.
13.13
THIS KIND OF PLEASURE IS NOT THE PROPER PLEASURE OF TRAGEDY, BUT BELONGS RATHER TO COMEDY, &C.
What is the proper pleasure to be expected from Tragedy, we have already been told, and we are told again, more plainly, if possible, in the next chapter. It is—
ἡ ἀπο ἐλεου και φοβου ἩΔΟΝΗ
: "the pleasure that arises from pity and terror". The double fable Aristotle seems to have considered as not giving this pleasure, or at least, as giving it weakly and imperfectly, because all the unhappiness of the catastrophe falls on the odious characters, the
σφοδρα πονηρος
. In the room of this pleasure, which Tragedy ought to give, the double fable substitutes that of a satisfactory conclusion; a catastrophe accommodated to the wishes of the spectator. But this, says Aristotle, is a pleasure that rather belongs to Comedy than to Tragedy:
ΜΑΛΛΟΝ της κωμῳδιας οἰκεια
. For he is not here rejecting this double plan, but only shewing why it is not, as some held it to be, the best,
πρωτη
. Such Tragedies, he says, afford a pleasure of the same kind, at least, with that which Comedy affords; though Comedy indeed goes farther; for there, all must end well; enemies, as inveterate as Orestes and Ægisthus, must shake hands
at last, and the spectator must be dismissed with no impression upon his mind, but that of pure and unmixed pleasure.
If we understand the passage in this way, it will not, I think, be necessary to suppose, what, I own, I was once much inclined to suppose with
Heinsius
, that the text is defective; and that, after the word
θεώταις
, Aristotle had, originally, mentioned the third and worst kind of fable, terminating in a happy event to all the characters; to which, and not to the second species, what follows about Comedy was meant to be applied . Very specious reasons might certainly be produced in support of such a conjecture, if it were necessary. But we have no encouragement from MSS. to suspect any omission, and the passage, as here explained, seems to have little, or no, difficulty. The chief objection is, that what is here said of Comedy is not applicable to the double Tragic fable, in which there is no reconciliation of enemies, &c. But it was not, I think, intended to be so closely applicable. All that Aristotle meant must have been, to shew, that the pleasure arising from his second species of fable, differed only in degree from that of Comedy; that the circumstance of ending satisfactorily was common to both
261
.
Chaucer's Monk had the true Aristotelic idea of Tragedy:
Canterbury tales, v. 13979. Mr. Tyrwhitt's ed.
Tragedie is to sayn a certain storie,
As olde bookes maken us memorie,
Of him that stood in gret prosperitee,
And is yfallen out of high degree
In to miserie, and endeth wretchedly.
But the knight, and the host, were among the
θεαται ΑΣΘΕΝΕΙΣ
:
Ho! quod the knight, good sire, no more of this:
That ye han said is right ynough ywis,
And mochel more; for litel hevinesse
Is right ynough to mochel folk, I gesse.
I say for me, it is a gret disese, [uneasiness]
Wher as men have ben in gret welth and ese,
To heren of hir sodein fall, alas!
And the contrary is joye and gret solas,
As whan a man hath ben in poure estat,
And climbeth up, and wexeth fortunat,
And ther abideth in prosperitee:
Swiche thing is gladsom, as it thinketh me,
And of swiche thing were goodly for to telle.
v. 14773, &c.
101.
mvp-aristotle-comment-101
NOTE 101. P. 89.
14.4
WHO MAKE USE OF THE DECORATION TO PRODUCE, NOT THE TERRIBLE, BUT THE MARVELLOUS ONLY-.
One would think, that commentators on Aristotle might find enough in this work to satisfy the keenest appetite for difficulties, without any assistance from their own invention. Yet here, they have contrived to perplex one of the plainest passages that can be found. Nothing can well be clearer than Aristotle's expression:
—οἱ δε ΜΗ ΤΟ ΦΟΒΕΡΟΝ, δια της όψεως, άλλα ΤΟ ΤΕΡΑΤΩΔΕΣ ΜΟΝΟΝ, παρασκευαζοντες
. — He is not, as some critics have supposed, examining here three different ways of raising terror, but
two only; by the plot itself, which he justly pronounces to be the best way, and by the
ὄψις
, the spectacle, scenes, dresses, &c. As for those Poets, he continues, who make use of the
ὄψις
, for the purpose of exciting, not terror, but wonder only, they are out of the question; this "has nothing to do with Tragedy," &c. If Aristotle, by
τερατωδες
, had meant only, as has been understood, a monstrous degree of the terrible "mostruoso, soprano spavento," as Castelvetro calls it, he surely would not have used so strong an expression as—
ΟΥΔΕΝ τῇ Τραγῳδίᾳ ΚΟΙΝΩΝΟΥΣΙΝ
. He does not here exclude even the
τερατωδες
, absolutely, and in general; but the mere
τερατωδες
;
τερατωδες ΜΟΝΟΝ
—"only the wonderful;" and that,
δια της όψεως
. The marvellous and supernatural, may, we know, in the hands of a Poet of genius, be made a powerful instrument of Tragic terror. Aristotle would hardly, I imagine, have censured a drama like that of
Macbeth, as having "nothing in common with Tragedy".
The difficulty, indeed, of managing the visible
τερατωδες
, so as to produce any serious effect, is sufficiently great. We have, I think, but one dramatic Poet who could walk, though others may have dared to walk, "within that circle". The decoration of the
Eumenides of Æschylus, and his chorus of fifty furies, with their
μυγμοι
, and their
ὠγμοι
, their snorings, their screams, and their torches, may very well be conceived to have put women and children in a real fright; but whether it produced any sympathetic, illusive, and pleasurable, terror—the only terror in question—I should much doubt. Yet Dacier, very gravely, produces this story of children fainting away, and women miscarrying, with the fright, as an example of Tragic terror excited by the
ὄψις
.
According to Dacier's account, the allegorical personage of
Λυσσα
, or Madness, in the
Hercules Furens of Euripides, appears in her aerial car, "with a hundred heads, round which hiss a thousand serpents". It is rather difficult to conceive how this could have been managed. These hundred heads, in the passage of the chorus alluded to, v. 884, certainly belong to the serpents, not to
Λυσσα
herself; and the emendation of Reiske seems probable; —
ἑκατογκεφαλοις ὄφεων ἰαχημασι
. "centicipitibus serpentum sibilis". Even so, I can scarce imagine an Athenian audience to have received this exhibition with countenances perfectly Tragic. The arrival of old
OCEAN mounted upon his Griffin, in the
Prometheus of Æschylus, must, one would suppose, have had as ridiculous an effect, as I remember the entrance of the Minotaur to have had upon the audience, some years ago, in the opera of
Teseo.
If such a dramatic entertainment as our
Pantomime had existed in the days of Aristotle, he would probably have represented the Tragic Poets, whom he here censures, as encroaching on that province: for, indeed, the
τερατωδες μονον δια της όψεως παρασκευαζομενον
, would accurately enough express the
ἡδονην οἰκειαν
of the pantomime. But, what would the philosopher have said to a species of the drama, of which the
ὄψις
, which he places at the very bottom of his scale [cap. vi.], is the very soul—
ἀρχη και οἷον ψυχη
: and where the
σκεύοποιος
, or the carpenter, takes the lead of the Poet? —To do it justice, however, it has its
Μυθος
, its fable, such as it is, with its beginning, its middle, and its end; though a spectator may be often puzzled to make, as we commonly say, head or tail of its plot. It has also its
δεσεις
and its
λυσεις
, its
nœuds and its
denouemens, in great abundance; being, indeed, from beginning to end, a continued series of knots, tied by love, and cut by magic. Here are also
περιπετειαι
and
ἀναγνωρισεις
, revolutions, and discove-
ries, in plenty; though the chief revolution, indeed, be in the scenery; —
ἡ εἰς το ἐναντιον των ὉΡΩΜΕΝΩΝ μεταβολη
. And with respect to discoveries, the pantomime may be characterized as Aristotle characterizes the Odyssey, —
ἀναγνωρισεις γαρ διολου
— "it abounds throughout with discoveries"; for the poor hero is perpetually discovered, and very seldom
εἰς φιλίαν
. Then there are
Παθη
too, disasters — the
πραξεις ὀδυνηραι
at least, which, to the upper gallery, make the merriest part of the entertainment. An essential character, the clown, is even appropriated to this purpose of suffering, and his clothes well wadded for the reception of blows, kicks, and falls. But Aristotle little foresaw, I suppose, when he wrote his first chapter, that a species of drama without words would one day be invented: still less, probably, could he have imagined, what to the antients would have appeared the strangest part of this business, that, though accompanied throughout by
MUSIC, yet it would not imitate "by gesticulated rhythm" —
δια σχηματιζομενων ΡΥΘΜΩΝ
; the gestures of the actors in pantomime, being not at all regulated by the measures of the music, or only occasionally, and accidentally, according to the ear, and inclination, of the performer.
102.
mvp-aristotle-comment-102
NOTE 102. P. 90.
14.6
MOST TERRIBLE, OR PITEOUS
After having established, that the terrible and piteous should arise from the circumstances of the action itself, Aristotle proceeds to examine what are the circumstances that will produce the highest degree of terror and pity, within the proper limits; that is, so as to avoid what he calls the
μιαρον
, the shocking, and disgusting . And this, perhaps, led him here to use the words
δεινα
, and
οικτρα
, as being, if I mistake not, rather stronger than
φοβερα
, and
ελεεινα
. For the subject of this chapter seems, in short, to be, the proper management of the
Παθη
or disastrous incidents:
"Comment,"
as Dacier has rightly observed,
"on doit se conduire dans les actions atroces," p. 236.
Without this leading idea it would be difficult to explain satisfactorily some passages that follow.
103.
mvp-aristotle-comment-103
NOTE 103. P. 90.
14.9
BETWEEN FRIENDS. —
Εν ταις φιλιαις.
—For the wide sense in which Aristotle here uses the word
φιλια
, see
Ethic. Nicom. VIII. 1, and 7, ed. Ox. 1716
, and the passage quoted in
NOTE 276
.
104.
mvp-aristotle-comment-104
NOTE 104. P. 90.
14.11
BUT IT IS HIS PROVINCE TO INVENT OTHER SUBJECTS, AND TO MAKE A SKILFUL USE OF THOSE WHICH HE FINDS ALREADY ESTABLISHED. —
Αυτον δε ευρισκειν δει, και τοις παραδεδομενοις χρησθαι καλως.
The expression is too short and general to be clear. It is fairly capable of not less than three different meanings.
Ευρισκειν
, may mean, to invent a subject from pure imagination, as Agatho invented his
ΑΝΘΟΣ
262
: or it may mean only, to find out a new historical subject; or, lastly, to invent, not a subject, but only circumstances and incidents, by which the old subjects may be varied; which is
Dacier's idea:
"Le Poete doit inventer lui-même, en se servant comme il faut des fables receuës."
I shall only say, that, on the whole, I prefer the second of these explanations. Aristotle, it is true, had allowed, that a Poet ought not to be chained down to the old traditional stories
263
; and even, that it would be ridiculous (
γελοιον
) to suppose subjects of pure invention absolutely prohibited. But this is delivered as a permission, not as a precept; and he would hardly have enforced a permission by such an expression as he here uses—
ευρισκειν $\Delta$EI$
. Again—
αυτον ΕΥΡΙΣΚΕΙΝ
, (against Dacier's explanation,) seems plainly opposed to
τοις παραδεδομενοις ΧΡΗΣΘΑI
—"to use old subjects properly, and to invent or find out new subjects: not new incidents for an old subject".
This may, perhaps, receive some illustration and support from a similar passage in the Rhetoric. In the second chapter of the first book, he divides the proofs of the orator into two kinds—the
ατεχνοι
, and the
εντεχνοι
. The
ατεχνοι
are the external proofs; witnesses, the torture, writings, and all such proofs as are ready provided to the pleader's hand—
οσα μη δι ημων πεπορισται, αλλα προυπηρχεν
. The
εντεχνοι
he defines to be those argumentative proofs which depend on the art and invention of the orator himself. He then concludes—
ωστε δει τουτων, τοις μεν ΧΡΗΣΑΣΘΑΙ, τα δε ΕΥΡΕΙΝ
: — "of these proofs, the first sort we have only to make a proper use of; the other we must invent".
105.
mvp-aristotle-comment-105
NOTE 105. P. 91.
14.15
BUT OF ALL THESE WAYS, &C.
All this is not a little
embrouillé. Aristotle describes three ways only. Then he says, or seems to say,—"There is no other way:" —
παρα ταυτα ουκ εστιν αλλως
. And to prove this, he enumerates all the ways possible; which, at last, turn out to be four. Hence the text has been supposed defective. Perhaps there is no occasion to suppose this. That, at least, there is no accidental omission of a fourth case, (that of purposing without executing,) seems pretty clear from the expression,
ΕΤΙ δε τριτον παρα ταυτα
: "there is still a third way beside these". It would have been rather strange, if, immediately after this, he had proceeded to mention a fourth way.—Taking then the passage as perfect, we must understand, I think, by
ουκ ΕΣΤΙΝ αλλως
, not—there is no other way possible—but, there is no other
proper, admissible way:
non licet aliter
—it must not be done in any other way. For, he proceeds, there are but four ways possible; but of all these, (
τουτων δε
—i. e. these four possible ways,) that of being "ready to execute, knowingly, and yet not executing," is the worst, and not to be enumerated by a critic among those ways which a Poet may be allowed to use.
Thus Dacier appears to have understood the passage, by his translation, which, I think, is right, as to the sense. But I thought Aristotle's meaning might be clearly enough expressed without periphrasis, or supplement.
106.
mvp-aristotle-comment-106
NOTE 106. P. 92.
14.19
BUT THE BEST OF ALL THESE WAYS IS THE LAST.
In the 13th chapter (Transl. Sect. 12.) Aristotle had pronounced that to be the best constituted Tragedy, which terminates unhappily; and had represented that species, which gratifies, by its catastrophe, the sympathetic wishes of the audience, as inferior, and affording a kind of pleasure rather appropriated to Comedy. Yet here, he appears to give the preference to a plan calculated to afford that very pleasure in the highest degree. This seeming inconsistence has given the commentators much trouble. It is rather surprising, that Dacier should have perceived what had escaped the superior acuteness of the Italian annotators, viz. that Aristotle is not, in this chapter, inquiring what is the best constitution of a Tragic fable in general, but, what is the best method of managing the most disastrous and atrocious incidents of Tragic story, so as to produce the highest possible degree of Tragical emotion in the spectator, without producing horror and disgust.
With this view of the subject, the reader, perhaps, will not see much difficulty in reconciling Aristotle to himself. He might surely say, without inconsistence, "Tragedy, to be perfect, should terminate unhappily. Yet there may be particular exceptions to this general rule. The end of Tragedy is, to excite terror and pity; and that end is most effectually answered, when those emotions are not only excited in the course of the drama, (as they undoubt-
edly may be, and to a high degree, even in such pieces as end fortunately,) but are left impressed upon the mind of the spectator by the catastrophe itself. Yet this Tragic terror is not to be pushed to absolute horror, nor the
τραγικον
to be confounded with the
μιαρον
: and I allow, that where the circumstances of the traditional story, from which the Poet takes his plot, are such, as leave him only the alternative, either of disgusting and shocking the spectator, or of gratifying his wishes, the latter is clearly to be preferred; and the
διπλη συστασις
, the double fable, to which I assigned only the second place
264
, will, in that particular case, deserve the first".
Nothing seems more just, or more accurately expressed, than Aristotle's idea of the end of Tragedy; that it is, "to give that pleasure which arises from pity and terror through imitation:" —
την απο ελεου και φοβου δια μιμησεως ηδονην παρασκευαζειν
cap. xiv. (Transl. P. II. Sect. 13.)
. But the Greek Tragedians will be thought, I believe, by most modern readers, to have sometimes pushed this principle rather too far, and to have excited a degree of horror, which even the charms of imitation cannot well be conceived to have softened into pleasurable emotion; and it appears to me, that Aristotle himself inclined to this opinion, and that he intended this chapter as a lesson of caution to the Poets against this excess. He seems plainly to have considered the actual murder of a mother, a son, a brother, and the like, as incidents rather too horrible to be exhibited in any way. If the deed must be done, let it, he says, if possible—if the story will permit it—be done ignorantly. But it will be still better, if you can avoid doing it, entirely; if you can contrive to make the expectation, combined with the atrociousness of the event expected, answer your purpose, by raising as much anxiety, commiseration, and terror in the spectator, as may consist with that pleasure which is the end of Tragedy, and then relieving him at last, by prevention at the very moment of execution.
That Aristotle thought the end of Tragedy might be sufficiently answered by the mere expectation of such events, properly managed, appears from his expression above:—
ει αδελφος αδελφον, η παις πατερα, η μητηρ υιον, η μητερα, αποκτανῃ, Η ΜΕΛΛΗι ταυτα δρᾳν
— "When a brother kills, or is going to kill," &c.. For this purpose, not only the expectation must be such, that the action shall appear imminent and inevitable, but the action itself expected must be such, as, had it taken place, would have been dreadful, "intolerable," &c. —
τι των ΑΝΗΚΕΣΤΩΝ
265
, as Aristotle expresses himself in describing these prevented
παθη
. By these means, the emotion of terror is brought as near as possible to that which would arise from the actual perpetration
266
.
If the purport of this chapter has been here rightly explained, the reader will see how Aristotle has been misrepresented by many modern critics, who have understood him to recommend the
Cresphontes of Euripides as a model of the best possible construction of a Tragic fable in general. Thus
Maffei, in the dedication of his Merope:
"Parla di essa Aristotele nella Poetica, dove trattando de' modi di ben comporre la favola, da per esempio dell' ottimo il Cresfonte d'Euripide, in cui l'atrocità veniva dalla ricognizione impedita."
And
Voltaire, in his letter to Maffei:
"Aristote, dans sa Poetique immortelle, ne balance pas à dire, que la reconnoissance de Merope et de son fils, etoit le moment le plus interessant de toute la scene Grecque. Il donnoit à ce coup de Theatre la preference sur tous les autres."
107.
mvp-aristotle-comment-107
NOTE 107. P. 92.
Plutarch's account of the effect of this
coup de Theatre upon the audience, is worth transcribing, though apparently incorrect.
Σκοπει δε την εν τῃ Τραγῳδιᾳ ΜΕΡΟΠΗΝ, επι τον υιον αυτον, ως φονεα του υιου, πελεκυν αραμενην, και λεγουσαν—Ὅσιωτεραν δη τηνδ᾿ εγω διδωμι σοι Πληγην—οσον εν τῳ θεατρῳ κινημα ποιει, συνεξορθιαζουσα φοβῳ και δεει μη φθασῃ τον επιλαμβανομενον γεροντα, και τρωσῃ το μειρακιον.
[
Περι Σαρκοφ. p. 1837, ed. H. St.
] For other fragments of this Tragedy, the reader may see the Ox. Euripides.
108.
mvp-aristotle-comment-108
NOTE 108. P. 92.
15.2
THE MANNERS SHOULD BE GOOD.
Good, in the usual sense of moral goodness; the only sense which
χρηστα
, applied to manners, will bear, and which, even though the word would admit of other senses, would here be fixed, beyond a doubt, by the plain, unequivocal expression of the whole passage. Dacier admires and follows the nonsense of Le Bossu, who makes
χρηστα ηθη
mean
poetically good; that is, well marked by the Poet, in which sense, the rule is equally well observed by Milton in his Satan, and by Richardson in his Grandison.
"There are," according to this "best interpreter of Aristotle,"
"deux sortes de bonté dans les mœurs; l'une que l'on peut appeller morale, et qui est propre à la vertu: et l'autre est la poetique, à laquelle les hommes les plus vicieux ont autant de part que les gens de bien."
How could Mr. Harris, with his thorough knowledge of the Greek language, recommend all this, as
"a fine and copious commentary on this part of Aristotle's Poetics?"
[On Music, &c. p. 83, note.]
I shall not waste time in confuting, what has been sufficiently confuted long ago
267
.
Aristotle says plainly, the
ηθος
will be
χρηστον
, if the
προαιρεσις
is
χρηστη
, and the contrary: —
φαυλον μεν, [sc. ηθος εξει,] εαν φαυλην [sc. προαιρεσιν ποιῃ φανεραν,] χρηστον δε, εαν χρηστην
. See, now, Dacier's version of this:
"Il y a des mœurs dans un discours, ou dans une action, lorsque l'un et l'autre font connoitre l'inclination ou la resolution telle qu'elle est, mauvaise si elle est mauvaise, bonne si elle est bonne."
The best comment I have seen on this passage is that of
Heinsius, (cap. xiv.)
which I shall therefore give entire.
"Cæterum, in moribus, quatuor tenenda esse docet Aristoteles; quorum primum est, ut sint boni. Quod est exponendum pluribus. Inter ea quæ quam maximè in Tragœdiâ reprehendebat PLATO, vel præcipuum hoc erat;—quod nimirum varia, non uniformis, sit illius imitatio; et occasione oblatâ, probos juxta improbosque imitetur; nonnunquam autem improbos tantum: quo facillimè animum decipi humanum, qui dum solum respicit decorum, quod propositum est illi, bonorum sæpe, et malorum, discrimen non agnoscit, et, ut ipse Poeta, utrosque mores imitatur; quo nihil magis in republicâ perniciosum excogitari potest . Quippe ratione istâ scholam vitiorum, non virtutum, fieri theatrum; et quidem quanto magis hanc in partem inclinamus omnes. Præterea, interpretes Platonis—alium admitti ab eo negant Poetam, quam qui Actiones imitetur; cætera enim delectare quidem, non autem docere; plerumque vero mores vitiare ac corrumpere, ideoque nocere magis quam prodesse. Huic ut occurreret Philosophus, primum hoc de moribus præceptum esse voluit, probi ut essent; tales enim esse in Tragœdiâ non modo posse, quod negabat Plato, sed et, quantum ratio poematis permitteret, debere . Confirmant hoc exempla tragicorum; qui sine ullâ lege hanc tamen legem sunt secuti. Etiam posteriores critici, qui nonnullas veterum hoc nomine notârunt, quod aut omnes, aut plerasque, pessime moratas haberent personas. Qualis est, ex. grat. Euripidæ Orestes; in quo, præter Pyladen, improbi omnium sunt mores. Neque enim hæc mens Aristotelis, aut non alios quam optimè moratos, esse inducendos, aut, si alii inducantur, quos fuisse improbos constat, probos iis tribuendos esse mores: sed, ut, quantum ratio permittit, plures optime morati in eodem inducantur dramate. Quamvis enim et utrique requiruntur, et tam horum quam illorum ratione constet decorum, probos tanto esse præferendos, quanto plus conducunt cum spectantur."
To do full justice to Aristotle's meaning, it must be observed, 1. That what he says should be understood chiefly, though by no means solely, as some have explained it, of the principal characters. 2. That the word
Χρηστος
does not imply a character of high and exemplary virtue. It seems to answer to our popular expression,
a good sort of man; and it excludes absolutely, only habitual vice, bad disposition,
πονηρια, ΜΟΧΘΗΡΙA
, as it is expressed in a passage that should be compared with this . 3. That the rule, even with respect to such characters, is not absolute; as is evident from Aristotle's expression, when he gives an example of the violation of it,
παραδειγμα πονηριας ΜΗ ΑΝΑΓΚΑΙΟΝ
: and, again, in cap. xxv.
οταν ΜΗ ΑΝΑΓΚΗΣ ΟΥΣΗΣ, κ. τ. αλ.
. 4. That what he presently adds,
εστι δε εν εκαστῳ γενει
, is a necessary modification of the precept, and shows, that he did not mean to exclude comparative badness of manners, but meant only—as good as may be, consistently with the observance of the other requisites mentioned—the
αρμοττον
, and the
ομοιον
.
The reason of the precept, Aristotle has not given us. But, it appears, I think, clearly, from his substituting the word
ΒΛΑΒΕΡΑ
(hurtful, pernicious,) for
μοχθηρα
, or
πονηρα
, in his enumeration of the greatest faults of Poetry at the end of cap. xxv. that, however he might differ from Plato as to the hurtful tendency of Tragedy, and of imitative Poetry in general, he so far at least agreed with him, as to admit the danger of those poetical, embellished, and flattering, exhibitions of vice, in which, as
one of the most eloquent of modern writers expresses it,
"L'auteur, pour faire parler chacun selon son caractere, est forcé de mettre dans la bouche des mechants leurs maximes, et leurs principes, revetus de tout l'eclat des beaux vers, et debités d'un ton imposant et sententieux, pour l'instruction du parterre."
268
With respect to characters of atrocious villainy, such as that of Glenalvon in
Douglas, which can excite only pure detestation, I believe the ideas of Plato, and perhaps of Aristotle, were very nearly, if not exactly, the same. This admirable writer has expressed in the concluding note of his
Nouvelle Eloise:
"En achevant de relire ce recueil, je crois voir pourquoi l'interêt, tout foible qu'il est, m'en est si agréable, et le fera, je pense, à tout lecteur d'un bon naturel. C'est qu'au moins ce foible interêt est pur et sans melange de peine; qu'il n'est point excité par des noirceurs, par des crimes, ni melé du tourment de haïr. Je ne sçaurois concevoir quel plaisir on peut prendre à imaginer et composer le personnage d'un scelerat, à se mettre à sa place tandis qu'on le représente, a lui prèter l'éclat le plus imposant. Je plains beaucoup les auteurs de tant de Tragédies pleines d'horreurs, lesquels passent leur vie à faire agir et parler des gens qu'on ne peut écouter ni voir sans souffrir," &c.
109.
mvp-aristotle-comment-109
NOTE 109. P. 92.
15.3
IN GENERAL, WOMEN ARE, PERHAPS, RATHER BAD THAN GOOD. —
"Aristote,"
says M. Batteux,
"ne parle pas içi des femmes en général, mais seulement de celles que les Poetes ont mises sur le Théâtre, telles que Medée, Clytemneitre," &c.
This is polite; but it will not make Aristotle polite. He speaks plainly; and what he says is, I fear, but too conformable to the manner in which the antients usually speak of the sex in general. At least, he is certainly consistent with himself: witness the following very curious character of women in his
History of Animals
, which I give the reader, by no means for his assent, but for his wonder, or his diversion.
Γυνη, ανδρος ελεημονεστερον και αριδακρυ μαλλον· ετι δε φθονερωτερον τε και μεμψιμοιροτερον, και ΦΙΛΟΛΟΙΔΟΡΟΝ μαλλον, και ΠΛΗΚΤΙΚΩΤΕΡΟΝ. ετι δε και δυσθυμον μαλλον και δυσελπι, και ΑΝΑΙΔΕΣΤΕΡΟΝ ΚΑΙ ΨΕΥΔΕΣΤΕΡΟΝ, ευαπατητοτερον τε, και μνημονικωτερον· ετι δε, ΑΓΡΥΠΝΟΤΕΡΟΝ ΚΑΙ ΟΚΝΗΡΟΤΕΡΟΝ και ολως ακινητοτερον κ. τ. αλ.
To make the reader amends for the pain which this cool and serious invective of the philosopher and the naturalist may have given him, I cannot resist the temptation of presenting him with a specimen of more sportive satire on this subject, in a very pleasant fragment, preserved by Athenæus, from a Comedy of Eubulus.
Ω Ζευ πολυτιμητ᾿, ει κακως εγω ποτε
Ερω γυναικας, νη $\Delta$ι᾿ απολοιμην αρα.
Παντων αριστον κτηματων. ειδ᾿ εγενετο
Κακη γυνη Μηδεια, Πηνελοπεια δε
Μεγα πραγμα. —ερει τις ως Κλυταιμνηστρα κακη;
Αλκηστιν αντεθηκα χρηστην. —αλλ᾿ ισως
Φαιδραν ερει κακως τις· αλλα, νη $\Delta$ια,
Χρηστη τις ην μεντοι ----τις; —οιμοι, δειλαιος·
Ταχεως γε μ᾿ αι ΧΡΗΣΤΑΙ ΓΥΝΑΙΚΕΣ επελιπον.
Τωνδ᾿ αυ ΠΟΝΗΡΩΝ ετι λεγειν πολλας εχω.
Athen. p. 559, or the Excerpta ex Trag. &c. of Grotius, p. 657.
If ever against woman-kind I rail,
Great Jupiter confound me!—for of all
The good things of this world, they are the best.
Medea, you will say, was bad:—agreed;
But, what a jewel was Penelope!
Urge you the wicked Clytemnestra?—I,
Oppose the good Alcestis. If you tell me
Of Phædra, I remind you of the good,
—Stay, let me see the good—Alas! how soon
My memory fails me there; while, of the bad,
Examples in abundance still occur.—
See Athen. p. 559, or the Excerpta ex Trag. &c. of Grotius, p. 657.
110.
mvp-aristotle-comment-110
NOTE 110. P. 93.
15.5
RESEMBLANCE----A DIFFERENT THING, &C.
The words,
ώσπερ ἐιρηται
, are embarrassing; for the difference here spoken of had not been mentioned before, as the expression, in its most obvious sense, implies. The only meaning I can find is
this. The two requisites, the
ἁρμοττον
and the
ὁμοιον
, propriety, and resemblance, might easily be confounded; the
ὁμοιον
being indeed only the
ἁρμοττον
in another point of view. The violence and fierceness of Medea, for example, which form her historical, or traditional character, and, therefore, the likeness of the Poet's picture, may be said to be
ἁρμοττοντα
, proper or suitable, with respect to the individual, though
ἀπρεπη και μη άρμοττοντα
, improper and unsuitable, to the general character of the sex. And thus
Piccolomini:
"la terza conditione che assegna Aristotele à i costumi, la qual consiste in esser simile, non differisce della seconda, posta nell' esser convenevoli, in altro, se non che la conditione del con- venevole riguarda l'universale; com' à dire, che quel costume convenga ad un principe, quello ad un suddito, quello à l'uomo &c. senza considerar questa particolar persona, ò quella: et la conditione del simile riguarda il particolare; come à dire, qual costume convenga di porre in uno che habbia da rappresentar' Achille; qual in quello che habbia da representare Oreste,"
&c. (p. 220.)
Indeed, Aristotle would hardly have thought of admonishing the reader not to confound the two things, had he not seen that they were liable to be confounded. He would not have remarked, that they were different, had they been perfectly, and obviously, distinct. I think then, that the words,
ώσπερ ἐιρηται
, must refer only to the
ἁρμοττον
, and the meaning must be, that, to make the manners like, is a different thing not only from making them good, but even from making them proper, in such a way as had been said—in that sense, in which the word
ἁρμοττοντα
had just been used, and explained by his instance. But if we understand the passage thus, there should be no stop after
ποιησαι
269
.
But, why does Aristotle mention at all, a difference so very obvious as that between resemblance, and goodness, of manners?— These two requisites could not easily be confounded, any more than likeness and beauty in a portrait. There was more danger of a reader's thinking the
ὁμοιον
too different from the
χρησον
, and, as a general precept, incompatible with it. And so indeed he seems to have apprehended himself, by what he presently after says about the
μιμησις βελτιονων
, and his rule, that the Poet, in imitation of the painter, should exhibit his characters as much better than they were, or are supposed to have been, as is consistent with the preservation of the likeness
270
.
111.
mvp-aristotle-comment-111
NOTE 111. P. 93.
15.6
THOUGH THE MODEL OF THE POET'S IMITATION BE SOME PERSON OF UNUNIFORM MANNERS, STILL THAT PERSON MUST BE REPRESENTED AS UNIFORMLY UNUNIFORM. —
Τεταρτον δε, το όμαλον κ'αν γαρ ἀνωμαλος τις ή, ὁ την μιμησιν παρέχων και τοιουτον ἠθος ὑποτιθεις, όμως όμαλως ἀνωμαλον δει ειναι.
----
"which last words," says an eminent writer,
"having been not at all understood, have kept his interpreters from seeing the true sense and scope of the precept. For they have been explained of such characters as that of Tigellius in Horace; which, however proper for satyr, or for farcical Comedy, are of too fantastic and whimsical a nature to be admitted into Tragedy; of which Aristotle must there be chiefly understood to speak, and to which Horace, in this place, alone confines himself. 'Tis true, indeed, it may be said, that 'though a whimsical or fantastic character be improper for Tragedy, an irresolute one is not. Nothing is finer than a struggle between different passions; and it is perfectly
natural, that in such a circumstance, each should prevail by turns."—"But then there is the widest difference between the two cases. Tigellius, with all his fantastic irresolution, is as uniform a character, as that of Mitio. If the expression may be allowed, its very inconsistency is of the essence of its uniformity. On the other hand, Electra, torn with sundry conflicting passions, is most apparently, and in the properest notion of the word, ununiform. One of the strongest touches in her character is that of a high, heroic spirit, sensible to her own, and her family's injuries, and determined, at any rate, to revenge them. Yet no sooner is this revenge perpetrated, than she softens, relents, and pities. Here is a manifest ununiformity, which can, in no proper sense of the expression, lay claim to the critic's
ὁμαλον
, but may be so managed, by the Poet's skill, as to become consistent with the basis or foundation of her character, that is, to be
ὁμαλως ἀνωμαλον
. And that this, in fact, was the meaning of the critic, is plain from the similar example to his own rule, given in the case of Iphigenia: which he specifies (how justly, will be considered hereafter) as an instance of the
ἀνωμαλε
, irregular, or ununiform, character, ill-expressed, or made inconsistent. So that the genuine sense of the precept is, 'Let the manners be uniform; or, if ununiform, yet consistently so, or uniformly ununiform:' exactly copied, according to the reading here given, by Horace. Whereas in the other way, it stands thus: 'Let your characters be uniform, or unchanged; or, if you paint an ununiform character (such as Tigellius) let it be ununiform all the way; i. e. such an irregular character to the end of the play, as it was at the beginning; which is, in effect, to say, let it be uniform:' which apparently destroys the latter part of the precept, and makes it an unmeaning tautology with the former.'"
I have given this passage entire, that the reader may have it fully in his power to judge, for himself, whether I mistake or misrepresent the meaning of any part of it. I should be sorry to be thought capable of a perfect confidence in my own opinion, however carefully and deliberately formed, when it is opposed by that of such a writer. But, after having repeatedly considered this comment, as it certainly deserves to be considered, with all the attention in my power, I am obliged to confess, that it does not satisfy me, and that the common interpretation still appears to me to stand its ground. — My reasons are these:
1. I cannot think, that such change, irresolution, and temporary inconsistence as arises from "conflicting passions," comes under the meaning of Aristotle's
ΗΘΟΣ ἀνωμάλον
.
Ηθος
, is the prevailing disposition, the habitual
προαιρεσις
, or settled character. "Electra," it is said, "torn with sundry conflicting passions, is most apparently, and in the properest sense of the word, ununiform." Not so, I think, in Aristotle's sense of the word
ἀνωμαλον
, expressly applied by him here to
ήθη
, or manners. The irregularities of conduct, or of sentiment and speech, arising from passion, seem to be a distinct thing from such as imply a change of the fixed, prevailing, or characteristic manners of the person. When such passionate ununiformity as that above described in Electra, is so managed by the Poet's skill, "as to become consistent with the basis or foundation of her character," that character is not, then, I think, as the ingenious critic considers it to be,
ὁμαλως ἀνωμαλον
, i. e. (as it is expressed in the beginning of the following note, p. 127.) "an ununiform character justly sustained, or, uniformly ununiform:" it is not, if I understand Aristotle rightly,
ἀνωμαλον
at all, in his sense;
for he speaks only of anomalous manners; and anomalous manners, plainly, cannot be made "consistent with the basis or foundation of a character," in any other sense, than as that very anomaly itself constitutes the character. And this I take to be Aristotle's meaning: for he is speaking of that anomaly, in which different characters, not, in which "different passions, prevail by turns."
2. The very expression, —
κ'αν γαρ ΑΝΩΜΑΛΟΣ ΤΙΣ ή, ὁ την μιμησιν παρέχων και ΤΟΙΟΥΤΟΝ ΗΘΟΣ ὑποτιθεις
, seems plainly to indicate an ununiform character, such as he explains by the
ὁμαλως ἀνωμαλον
that follows. —
ἀνωμαλά ΤΙΣ
an anomalous PERSON: i. e. a person of inconsistent manners, or character. This expression seems hardly applicable, without violence, to such casual and merely apparent inconsistence, as arises from conflicting passions, and is reconcilable with "the basis or foundation of a character."
3. "The genuine sense of the precept," we are told, "is, Let the manners be uniform; or, if ununiform, yet consistently so, or uniformly ununiform." But, consistently, and uniformly, seem to present different ideas. Aristotle's word,
ὁμαλως
, presents only the latter of these:—uniformly that is, more literally, equally*, evenly, &c. it does not, I think, answer at all to consistently, in the sense in which it is evidently applied, in this explanation, to what is not incongruous—not unaccountable, &c
271
. Had this, therefore, been Aristotle's meaning, he would, probably, have used, either
εικοτως
, or
ευλογως
, or some other such word appropriated to that meaning; not
ὁμαλως
, which is never, as far as I know, used in the sense of consistently
272
.
4. But it is objected, that if we take
ὁμαλως ἀνωμαλον
to mean "uniform all the way, i. e. such an irregular character to the end of the play, as it was at the beginning," this, "is, in effect to say, let it be uniform; which apparently destroys the latter part of the precept, and makes it an unmeaning tautology with the former." The first part of the precept, I think, is, Let the manners be uniform; or, as we say, of a piece. Now to this an objector might say,—"This cannot be an indispensable rule; uniformity cannot be essentially requisite to the manners: for, what, if the Poet should take for the subject of his imita- tion a person whose manners are not uniform?" —The answer, or "second part of the precept," is, "then, that want of uniformity must be such as constitutes the very character itself; for this falls within the rule; the 'very inconsistency' of the character (to use the ingenious critic's own words,) being, in this case, 'of the essence of its uniformity.'" I confess I do not here perceive any thing that can properly be called tautology; for though the philosopher says, indeed, in the second part of the precept no more than he meant to say in the first; yet he plainly apprehended it was more than he might be understood to say, and therefore he subjoined this necessary explanation
273
. What he says is, in short, only this—"Let the manners be uniform: an ununiform character is no exception to this rule."
The Tigellius of Horace offered himself naturally enough, upon this occasion, to the commentators, as an illustration. We need not, however, suppose Aristotle to have thought of so very fantastic and comic a species of incoherence. Mutability and caprice are sometimes found in higher characters, where they are less ludicrous in their appearance, and, sometimes, very serious in their effects. And though, perhaps, any character of the kind may have too much of a comic cast to accord with our ideas of Tragic dignity, we have no reason to conclude, that it would have found the same difficulty of admittance upon the Greek stage, where the Tragic muse did, not unfrequently, condescend to be seen, "
Δακρυσεν γελασασα
."
I shall only add to this note the following passage from the commentary of Victorius, which appears to me to explain well, in few words, the meaning, and the spirit, of Aristotle's precept.
"Studens ostendere quantopere hoc præceptum cuftodiendura fit, affirmat, si quis fortè varius diſſimiliſque sibi inductus semel fit, eum, talem in omni facto totius fabulæ fervandum esse, ut æquabilitas à Poetâ custodiatur in naturâ illâ inæquabili ostendenda: quod non fieret, fi aliquis levis, nec in eodem proposito permanens, inductus, paulò pofteà firmus et obftinati animi ungeretur. Si morum igitur inæqualitas naturæque inconstantia constanter servanda est, quanto magis natura indoleſque stabilis par sibi ac jugis ad extremum servari debet."
112.
mvp-aristotle-comment-112
NOTE 112. P. 93.
15.7
WE HAVE AN EXAMPLE OF MANNERS UNNECESSARILY BAD, IN THE CHARACTER OF MENELAUS, &C.
Mr. Potter, in the introduction to his translation of the Orestes, says of this passage, that it " may be considered as a mysterious oracular sentence, which wants an expounder." I can only say, that I think the commentators would have reason to congratulate themselves, if no sentence of this mangled work wanted an expo- sitor more than this. Whether we read
ἀναγκαιον
, or
ἀναγκαιε
; an unnecessary example of bad manners, or an example of unnecessary badness of manners; the sense seems evidently the same: and that Aristotle could not mean, what the excellent translator of Æschylus and Euripides seems to think he might mean—to "excuse the Poet upon the necessity"—sufficiently appears from
another passage, at the end of the 25th chapter, [Tranfl. Part IV. Sect. 7.] where this character is again mentioned as an instance of vitious manners, excused by no necessity—
μη ἀναγκης ἐσης
. Mr. Potter complains of " the little light which the passage derives from the connexion:" I think without reason. For as the other examples given are examples of the violation of his other precepts, relative to propriety, and uniformity, of manners, the connection plainly indicates this to be an example of the similar violation of his first rule—that the manners should be good. So far, then, seems to be clear. In what particular view Aristotle thought the badness of the character not necessary, may be, indeed, less clear. I should suppose him to mean, that the historical, or traditional, character of Menelaus, and the observance of the
ὁμοιον
, by no means obliged Euripides to paint him in such colours. With respect to the plea, that it was necessary, because "the drama could not," otherwise, " have been worked up to this terrible height of Tragic distress," Aristotle's answer would, perhaps, have been similar to that which he makes upon another occasion:—i. e. the Poet should not, originally, have so constructed his plan, as to bring upon himself the necessity of committing so great a fault : —
ἐξ ἀρχης γαρ ἐ δει συνισασα θαι τοικτες
. [ sc.
μυθες
]. cap. xxiv.
113.
mvp-aristotle-comment-113
NOTE 113. P. 93.
15.9
OF UNUNIFORM MANNERS, IN THE IPHIGENIA AT AULIS, &C. —
"How does this appear, independently of the name of this great critic? Iphigenia is drawn indeed at first, fearful and suppliant: and surely with the greatest observance of nature. The account of her destination to the altar was sudden, and without the least preparation: and, as Lucretius well observes, in commenting her case, NUBENDI TEMPORE IN IPSO; when her thoughts were all employed, and, according to the simplicity of those times, confessed to be so, on her promised nuptials. The cause of such destination too, as appeared at first, was the private family interest of Menelaus. All this justifies, or rather demands, the strongest expression of female fear and weakness. But she afterwards recants and voluntarily devotes herself to the altar." And this, with the same strict attention to probability. She had now informed herself of the importance of the case. Her devotement was the demand of Apollo, and the joint petition of all Greece. The glory of her country, the dignity and interest of her family, the life of the generous Achilles, and her own future fame, were, all, nearly concerned in it. All this considered, together with the high, heroic sentiments of those times, and the superior merit, as was believed, of voluntary devotement, Iphigenia's character must have been very unfit for the distress of a whole Tragedy to turn upon, if she had not, in the end, discovered the readiest submission to her appointment. But, to show with what wonderful propriety the Poet knew to sustain his characters, we find her, after all, and notwithstanding the heroism of the change, in a strong and passionate apostrophe to her native Mycenæ, confessing some involuntary apprehensions and regrets, the remains of that instinctive abhorrence of death, which had before so strongly possessed her.
Εθρέψας Ελλαδι μέγα φαβ / Θανεσα δ᾽ ἐκ ἀναινομαι.
Once the bright star of Greece / But I submit to die.
"This, I take to be not only a full vindication of the consistency of Iphigenia's character, but as delicate a stroke of nature as is, perhaps, to be found in any writer."
Commentary on the Ep. to the Pifos, &c. vol. i. p. 113, &c.
If all I knew of the Tragedy in question was from this ingenious defence, I should certainly acquit Euripides. I cannot acquit him, or can only partially acquit him, when I read the Tragedy itself. The fact perhaps is, that the question, whether the critic's censure be just or not, cannot possibly be decided by any general statement of the case. That Iphigenia, so circumstanced as she is here, and very justly, described to be, might at first be timid and suppliant, and, at last, meet death with resolution, and this, without any inconsistence, or duplicity of character, will hardly be disputed. But the question is, whether Euripides has actually so drawn this timidity, and this resolution, as to preserve the unity of character. To determine this fairly, we must, at last, have recourse to the detail of the Poet's execution, and the actual impression which, on the whole, it leaves upon the reader's mind. All depends here upon degree and manner. A single nuance in the colouring, a flight depression or elevation of tone, in the suppliant, or the heroine, may be sufficient to determine the impression this way, or that. What this impression was upon Aristotle's mind, it may be observed that he has marked very precisely and clearly by the expression,
ΟΥΔΕΝ ΕΟΙΚΕΝ Ἡ ἹΚΕΤΕΥΟΥΣΑ ΤΗ ΥΣΤΕΡΗ
:—"the supplicating Iphigenia is NOTHING LIKE the Iphigenia of the conclusion." The expression, I think, does not imply, that he thought the mere circumstance of her supplicating at first for life, and recanting afterwards, was, of itself, necessarily inconsistent, but, that the manner in which she supplicated was such, as to make her, in that part, appear to be a different character, another person, from what she appears to
be when she recants.
My own opinion I confess to be, that though the considerations suggested in this ingenious defence of Euripides may prove the censure of Aristotle to be too strongly, or, at least, too generally, expressed, yet they do not prove it to be without foundation. I say, too generally, because perhaps there is but one passage in the speech of the suppliant Iphigenia, to which the
ΟΥΔΕΝ ἐοικεν
is fairly applicable, in its full force. Her speech,
Ει μεν του Ορφέως
, &c. v. 1211, which, on the whole, is highly pathetic, ends with these unhappy lines:
μαινεται δ᾽ ὡς ἐυχεται / Θανειν ΚΑΚΩΣ ΖΗΝ ΚΡΕΙΣΣΟΝ Η ΘΑΝΕΙΝ ΚΑΛΩΣ.
v. 1249.
274
I leave it to the reader to determine, whether any intervening circumstances, that can be imagined, will make it at all conceivable, that the same Iphigenia, should, in the short space of time taken up by the recital of, at most, only 35 lines of dialogue, experience such a total change of sentiments, as to express the most heroic resolution, and the utmost sensibility to the glory of dying for her country; as to say,—
— δίδωμι σωμα τ' εμον Ἑλλαδι. / Θυετ , ἐκπορθειτε Τροιαν ταυτα γαρ μνημεια με, / Δια μακρε, και παιδες ἐτοι, και γαμοι, και δοξ᾿ ἐμη.
v. 1397.
275
For Greece I give my life. / "Slay me, demolish Troy: for these shall be / Long time my monuments, my children these, / My nuptials, and my glory."
Potter's Eurip. v. 1549.
It seems probable, that Aristotle had chiefly in view the particular lines I have quoted; and had he any way pointed his censure to that passage—had he said,
οὐδεν εοικεν ἡ ΟΥΤΩΣ ἱκετευκσα
, &c. quoting, or referring to, the verses, I think there could have been no objection to the justice of his criticism.
Gravina
, who has also defended
Euripides
in his book
Della Tragedia
, lays great stress upon a circumstance, which does, indeed, seem to be of considerable moment in the Poet's justification; I mean, the effect of necessity in producing courage and resolution.
" Non é maraviglia, se Ifigenia, quantunque per naturalezza del sesso, timida, ed amorosa della vita, finchè la poteva sperare; poi resa forte dalla necessità, madre spesso anche delle virtù morali, come anima generosamente educata, disprezza la morte, e cangia l'amor della vita in compiacenza di gloria. Il che alla giornata anche osserviamo in persone di nascita e d'animo vile, che condotte alla morte, arditamente l'abbracciano, quantunque al primo avviso costernate rimanessero; perchè l'idea della necessità non avea usata ancor la fua forza."
[Sect. 19.]
This seems much to the purpose; and it is supported by its agreement with what we find in the Tragedy itself. For the change in the sentiments and language of Iphigenia is not, as we have seen, produced before the scene in Trochaics between Cly- tæmneſtra and Achilles; the very scene in which the inevitable necessity of the sacrifice is first made clearly apparent. The effect of this on the resolution of Iphigenia is visible also in her speech:
τα δ᾽ ΑΔΥΝΑΘ᾽ ἡμιν καρτερειν ἐ ραδιον. / Αλλα και σε τεθ᾽ ὁραν χρη, μη διαβληθης σρατῳ, / ΚΑΙ ΠΛΕΟΝ ΠΡΑΞΩΜΕΝ ΟΥΔΕΝ.- / Αλλ' ΑΜΗΧΑΝΟΝ-δίδωμι σωμα τεμον Ελλαδι
, &c. v. 1372.
The learned
Mr. Markland
, in his excellent edition of the two Iphigenias, defends
Euripides
upon very different ground. He admits the inconsistence, not only in the character of Iphigenia, but in all the characters of the play, except Clytæmneſtra; and even in the chorus. But all this he supposes to have been in- tended by the Poet, as a moral lesson—a striking picture of the "levity and inconstancy of the human mind." And he wonders, which I cannot say I do, that this should have escaped the
ἀγχινοια
of Aristotle
276
.
114.
mvp-aristotle-comment-114
NOTE 114. P. 94.
15.10b
HENCE IT IS EVIDENT THAT THE DEVELOPMENT ALSO, &C. —
Heinsius
pronounces this whole passage, to the words,
εν τω Οιδ. τε Σοφ.
—inclusively, to be certainly out of its proper place
277
. And I should be of his opinion, if such digressive and parenthetical insertions were not very usual with
Aristotle
. The expression, how- ever, should be observed:
φανερον ἐν ὅτι ΚΑΙ τας λύσεις
, &c. that "the development also," &c. i. e. as well as the other incidents of the fable, just mentioned. Most of the versions neglect the word
και
, which is important, and greatly helps the connection. This digression, however, though not unrelated, is but flightly and obliquely related, to his present subject; and seems introduced rather
ἀπο μηχανης
, and in violation of his own rule—
τετο μετα τατο ἡ ἀναγκαιον ἐικο
. It interrupts the connection, and obscures the purport, of the chapter; and though we allow it to be where the author placed it, we may fairly question, whether he has placed it where it should be.
115.
mvp-aristotle-comment-115
NOTE 115. P. 94.
15.10b
MACHINERY.
Απο μηχανης
. — It appears from
Jul. Pollux, lib. iv. cap. 19
. that the term,
μηχανη
, was not applied indiscriminately to the machinery of the play-house in general, but was appropriated to that particular machine, in which Gods and Heroes made their appearance in the air.
Μηχανη δε, θεους δεικνυσι και ήρωας τους ἐν ἀερι
. I hope it was something better than the
Μηχανη
of the French opera, so pleasantly described by
Rousseau: —
278
"Les chars des Dieux et des Déesses sont composés de quatre solives encadrées et suspendues à une grosse corde en forme d’escarpolette; entre ces solives est une planche en travers, sur laquelle le Dieu s’assaye, et sur le devant pend un morceau de grosse toile barbouillée, qui sert de nuage à ce magnifique char. On voit vers le bas de la machine l’illumination de deux ou trois chandelles puantes et mal mouchées, qui, tandis que le personnage se démene et crie en branlant dans son escarpolette, l’enfume tout à son aise. Encens digne de la divinité."
The account of the machinery of a Greek Theatre, in the chapter of
Jul. Pollux above referred to, is curious, and amusing, as far as it is intelligible.
116.
mvp-aristotle-comment-116
NOTE 116. P. 94.
15.10c
OR THE RETURN OF THE GREEKS IN THE ILIAD.
Και ἐν ΤΗΙ ΙΛΙΑΔΙ τα περι τον ἀποπλουν
. It has been disputed, whether Aristotle here speaks of the Iliad of
Homer, or of some Tragedy called
The Iliad. See
Dacier’s note.
But, if we suppose the text to be right here, I see not how we can reasonably reject the first of these interpretations.
Ἡ ΙΛΙΑΣ
, as
Beni has well observed, can only be,
THE Iliad, i. e.
Homer’s Iliad.
Dacier supposes the Tragedy to have been called, "The Iliad, or, The return of the Greeks;" and to be that mentioned by
Longinus, Sect. 15
, and attributed to
Sophocles. But, even supposing a Tragedy to be meant, it seems very clear from Aristotle’s expression, that the title must have been,
Ιλιας
, only; for he says,
ΕΝ τη Ιλιάδι ΤΑ ΠΕΡΙ τον ἀποπλουν
i. e. "the circumstances, or incidents, relative to the return of the Greeks, in [the Tragedy of] The Iliad." — So,
cap. xxiv.
ἐν τῇ Οδυσσεια — τα περι την ἐκθεσιν
. — Indeed,
The Iliad, taken alone, seems an improbable title for a Tragedy; but
Dacier’s junction is still more improbable. He might as well have imagined a Tragedy with this title —
Η Οδύσσεια, η, Ἡ ΕΚΘΕΣΙΣ
. As to the Tragedy of
Sophocles mentioned by
Longinus, it seems clearly to have been his
POLYXENA.
279
Supposing, then, the text not to be defective, we cannot, I think, avoid understanding
Aristotle to speak of the machinery, (to use the word in his general sense,) in the second book of the
Iliad,
280
where
Minerva descends to prevent the return of the Greeks. It is true indeed, as has been objected, that an instance drawn from an Epic Poem is not what one would expect here, where the subject is Tragedy; and, that though there be, in this instance, a difficulty solved — a knot cut — yet this
λυσις
, is not, properly,
λυσις μυθου
in that sense, in which
Aristotle applies the term in
cap. xviii.
281
to the final
denouëment of a Tragic fable.
We must therefore suppose him to have produced this, merely as an obvious and well known example of the sort of supernatural interposition, or machinery, that would be improper in the
λυσις
of a Tragedy. For, that he intended to censure the "
ministeria Deorum
," so necessary to the Epic Poem, and so frequent in the great model of all Epic Poems, cannot be imagined without absurdity, and is by no means necessarily implied, as
Dacier seems to think, in this interpretation.
Such appears to me to be the only meaning, and the best apology, which the passage will bear, taking for granted the integrity of the original. But of this, I confess, I doubt.
M. Batteux translates "
la petite Iliade." But if we admit that sense, as
Aristotle certainly would not have called that Poem
THE Iliad, without distinction, we must necessarily suppose the text defective, and the word
ΜΙΚΡΑ
to be omitted;
282
and it seems very probable that this was the case. The illustration, indeed, will still be drawn from an Epic Poem; but from one of an irregular and historic structure, consisting of a string of ill-united stories, and which seems to have been considered as a sort of seed-plot, or nursery, of subjects for the use of the Tragic Poets: so that in referring to it,
Aristotle may be understood to refer to such Tragedies as were founded on it; of which he enumerates himself no fewer than eight, and one of these was called
ΑΠΟΠΛΟΥΣ; taken, I suppose, like the
Polyxena of
Sophocles mentioned by
Longinus, from that part of the
Little Iliad, which related the detention of the Greeks in the Thracian Chersonese, and the appearance of the ghost of
Achilles demanding the sacrifice of
Polyxena.
283
117.
mvp-aristotle-comment-117
NOTE 117. P. 95.
15.11
OR OF INDOLENT—.
Ραθυμους
: — indolent —
nonchalant.
Hesychius explains
Ραθυμα, ΜΗ ΠΟΝΗΤΙΚΟΣ ἀλλ᾿ ΕΚΛΥΤΟΣ
. It is improperly rendered, "
timide
," by
M. Batteux, and "
mansueto
," by the Italian translators.
118.
mvp-aristotle-comment-118
NOTE 118. P. 95.
15.11
SHOULD DRAW AN EXAMPLE APPROACHING RATHER TO A GOOD, THAN TO A HARD AND FEROCIOUS, CHARACTER.
The original is —
Ουτω και τον ποιητην, μιμουμενον και ὀργιλους και ῥαθυμους, και τ'αλλα τα τοιαυτα ἐχοντας ἐπι των ἠθων, ἐπιεικειας ποιειν παραδειγμα η σκληροτητα δει: οἷον τον Αχίλλεα Αγαθων και Όμηρος
. — A passage that has much perplexed and divided the commentators. Of all the explanations which this perplexity has produced, that of
Dacier is the most improbable and ill-founded. He forces
ῥαθυμους
into the sense of,
emporté, furieux, and makes it
"encherir sur ὀργιλος."
Επιεικεια
, he wrenches from the obvious and proper sense in which it is continually used by
Aristotle, into that of probability. And the result of this violent operation upon the passage, is the following strange version: —
"Il faut tout de même, qu’un Poete qui veut imiter un homme colere et emporté, ou quelqu’ autre caractere semblable, se remette bien plus devant les yeux ce que la colere doit faire vraisemblablement (i. e.
ἐπιεικειας
) que ce qu’elle a fait (i. e.
σκληροτητα
!) et c’est ainsi,"
&c.
I may venture to leave all this to the learned reader’s rejection,
without any farther comment. I shall only just observe, that the expression,
ΚΑΙ ὀργ. ΚΑΙ ῥαθ.
evidently marks different characters; not, as
Dacier makes it, different degrees only of the same character.
Heinsius first suggested, that the phrase
ἐπιεικειας η σκληροτητα
, was elliptical, and
μαλλον
to be understood. But in spite of the "
Attica venustas
," I am much more inclined to suspect an omission of the word.
Aristotle would hardly have used a mode of expression so unavoidably ambiguous — or rather, that would, almost unavoidably, lead to a wrong sense; for, the fact is, that all the commentators, before
Heinsius, understood the
η
, as indeed every reader, I believe, would at first naturally understand it, in the disjunctive sense of,
or. Besides this, I doubt whether any example of this elliptic phrase occurs in
Aristotle’s works. That it may, I will not take upon me to deny; but it seems, at least, very unusual. An instance of it I have not found; but the reader may find many instances of the full phrase,
μαλλον η
, even in this treatise.
284
However, one, or the other, of these suppositions, it seems necessary to adopt. The passage will then, without forcing the words
ἐπιεικεια
and
σκληροτης
from their usual and proper signification, afford a clear and consistent meaning.
Επιεικεια
is used, I think, here, as it is in
cap. xiii.
in the general sense of
good.
285
Σκληροτης
plainly relates only to his first instance, of the
ὀργιλος
, the angry character, of which it seems to express the extreme degree. In the
Ethics ad Nicom. we have —
ΑΓΡΙΟΙ και ΣΚΛΗΡΟΙ
, as synonymous, or very nearly so. A passage of
Plato may serve to illustrate and confirm this sense of the word.
286
Speaking of the
θυμοειδες
, or irascible nature, he says, it may produce the
ἀγριον
: —
και όρθως μεν τραφεν, ἀνδρειον ἂν ειη ΜΑΛΛΟΝ Δ' ΕΠΙΤΑΘΕΝ ΤΟΥ ΔΕΟΝΤΟΣ, ΣΚΛΗΡΟΤΕΡΟΝ τε και χαλεπον γεγνοιτ' ἀν, ὡς το εικος
. — And just before —
ΑΓΡΙΟΤΗΤΟΣ τε και ΣΚΛΗΡΟΤΗΤΟΣ, και αὖ μαλακιας τε και ἡμεροτητος
.
287
The sense of the passage, then, will be, that, in order to reconcile the first precept, of the
χρηστον
, with the third, of the
ὁμοιον
, the character should be brought as near to a good one, as is consistent with the circumstance of likeness. Thus, if such a character as that of
Achilles is to be drawn, its striking features are to be preserved, but, at the same time, to be rather improved and softened, than exaggerated. For the expression must be observed.
Aristotle does not say absolutely, according to the sense of
Heinsius, that
Achilles ought to be drawn, or was drawn,
παραδειγμα ἐπιεικειας
, but rather so than otherwise; —
ΜΑΛΛΟΝ η σκληροτητα
.
M. Batteux has very well expressed the spirit of the rule, though he has generalized it, and made it refer to all that precedes
και ὀργιλους, και ῥαθυμους
, &c. — whereas it appears plainly, from what has been said of the force of
σκληροτης
, that the words,
ἐπιεικειας ποιειν παραδ. η σκληρ.
can be applied only to the
ὀργιλοι
; for as to the
ῥαθυμους
, such a character may, indeed, be flattered into the
ἐπιεικης
, but cannot well, by any distortion, be made to appear
σκληρος
.
"Loin de charger encore le defaut, il le rapprochera de la vertu"
Still, however, what every one, I believe, naturally expects at the first reading of this passage, as it now stands, is, that after having mentioned two instances of faulty characters, the
ὀργιλοι
, and the
ῥαθυμοι
,
Aristotle should mention two corresponding instances of good qualities bordering upon, or connected with, each, and of which the Poet might avail himself, to give to each a favour-
able turn. But, instead of this, we have a good, and a bad quality, (
ἐπιεικεια
, and
σκληροτης
,) both of which, as we have seen, can be made to relate only to his first instance, the
ὀργιλος
; so that all the rest, between the words
ὀργιλους
, and
ἐπιεικειας
, must be parenthetical. The harshness and embarrassment of such a construction, led me formerly to suspect an error in one of the words,
ἐπιεικειας
, or
σκληροτητα
; and a conjecture was suggested to me by a passage in the
Rhetoric, which, I hope, will at least be thought plausible enough to excuse my laying it before the reader. The suspicion seemed to fall upon
σκληροτητα
; for the
ἐπιεικεια
would answer well enough as a softening, or improvement, of
ῥαθυμια
; as an indolent man, who concerns himself about nothing, and cares only for his own ease, is often spoken of as a quiet, good kind of man. Instead of
σκληροτητα
, then, I thought it not improbable, that
Aristotle might have written
ἁπλοτητα
. The passage of
Aristotle himself which suggested this to me, is in the
first book of his Rhetoric, cap. ix.
where, delivering the usual precepts relative to the art of encomiastic misrepresentation, he says,
Ληπτεον δε-----ἑκαστον, ἐκ των παρακολουθουντων αει, κατα το ΒΕΛΤΙΣΤΟΝ· οἷον, ΤΟΝ ΟΡΓΙΛΟΝ και τον μανικον, ῾ΑΠΛΟΥΝ και τον αυθαδη, μεγαλοπρεπη και σεμνον
· κ. τ. αλλ. The whole passage is much to the purpose of this place; and is, plainly, not more applicable to the Rhetorician, with respect to the hero of his oration, than it is to the Poet, with respect to the hero of his poem. A passage of
Euripides will add, perhaps, some probability to this conjecture. In the
Iphigenia at Aulis,
Achilles thus draws his own character:
Iphigenia at Aulis, v. 926.
Εγω δ’ ἐν ἀνδρως εὐσεβεστάτου τραφεις, Χειρωνος, ἔμαθον τους τροπους ῾ΑΠΛΟΥΣ ἔχειν. Και τοις Ατρείδαις, ἢν μεν ἡγωνται καλως, Πεισομεθ᾽. — ὅταν δε μη καλως, οὐ πεισομεθ'.
Where the meaning of
τροπες άπλες
, is very well fixed by the two subsequent lines, and by the expression,
ἐλευθεραν φυσιν
, in the verse that follows them.
Plato, also, in the
Hippias, talks much of the simplicity, truth, and sincerity, of
Achilles; as if, in his view, they were the pro-
minent features of what was good in the Homeric character of that hero. When
Socrates asks
Hippias, whether
Achilles is not represented by
Homer as an artful, designing character,
Hippias answers —
Ἥκιστά γε, ὦ Σωκρατες, ἀλλ᾿ ῾ΑΠΛΟΥΣΤΑΤΟΣ
. And, again,
ὡς ὁ μεν Αχιλλευς εἴη ἀληθης τε και ῾ΑΠΛΟΥΣ· ὁ δε Οδυσσευς πολυτροπος τε και ψευδης
.
288
And the following lines are there quoted, in which
Homer has made
Achilles strongly mark this feature of his own character:
Il. ix. 308.
Διογένες Λαερτιάδη, πολυμηχαν᾿ Οδυσσευ, Χρη μεν δη τον μυθον ἀπηλεγεως ἀποειπειν, Ἧι περ δη φρονεω τε, και ὡς τετελεσμενον ἐσται· Εχθρα γαρ μοι κεινος ὁμως ἀΐδαο πυλησιν, Ὡς χ᾿ ἑτερον μεν κευθει ἐνι φρεσιν, ἀλλο δε βαζει.
The sense, then, of the passage before us, according to this conjecture, would be this: — If the Poet choose for the subject of his imitation a passionate, or an indolent man, he should give to the former the cast of plain sincerity, and honest frankness; and to the other, (the
ῥαθυμος
) that of moderation, gentleness,
289
good-nature, and what the French, by an expressive word which our language wants, term,
bonhommie. But I dwell too long upon a mere conjecture. The evident propriety of the word
σκληροτης
, as applicable to the unsoftened and unflattered character of
Achilles, may justly, perhaps, protect it from suspicion; though, on the other hand, the passages I have adduced, added to the improbability of the ellipse supposed by
Heinsius, the embarrassment of the parenthesis, and the advantage of leaving the
η
to its most obvious, disjunctive, sense, prevent me from a total rejection of this idea.
The word
παραδειγμα
, here, is taken by most of the commentators
290
to mean a perfect ideal model — "
summum exemplar
." Of
this I see no reason. I take it to be used here, as it is generally, I believe, if not always, used by
Aristotle, merely for an example. Of this the reader may easily satisfy himself by consulting the useful index to
Mr. Winstanley’s edition.
119.
mvp-aristotle-comment-119
NOTE 119. P. 95.
15.11
AS ACHILLES IS DRAWN BY AGATHO AND BY HOMER.
PLATO, in the third book of his
Republic, gives a very different view of the Homeric
Achilles. He makes him a mere compound of extreme pride and extreme meanness:
ὡστε ἔχειν ἐν αυτῳ νοσηματα δυο ἐναντιω ἀλληλοιν, ἀνελευθερίαν μετα φιλοχρηματίας, και αὖ ὑπερηφανιαν θεων τε και ἀνθρωπων
.
291
To which we may add, as a companion,
Dr. Jortin’s portrait of
Achilles:
"A boisterous, rapacious, mercenary, cruel, and unrelenting brute; and the reader pities none of his calamities, and is pleased with none of his successes!"
292
This is far enough from the
παραδειγμα ἐπιεικειας
. But for a juster account of this matter, and for the best illustration of this passage of
Aristotle that can be given, I refer the reader to
Dr. Beattie’s analysis of the character of this hero, as drawn by
Homer;
293
120.
mvp-aristotle-comment-120
NOTE 120. P. 95.
15.12
AND BESIDES THESE, WHATEVER RELATES TO THOSE SENSES WHICH HAVE A NECESSARY CONNECTION WITH POETRY.
Here are two readings:
τας παρα τα ἐξ ἀναγκης ἀκολουθουσας ἀισθησεις τη ποιητικη
: and,
τα παρα τας ἐξ ἀναγκης
, &c. but in both, the object, and general sense of the passage, seem to be the same, though in both, the expression, it must be confessed, is sufficiently embarrassed and obscure. I have preferred the latter, (which is that of
Victorius,) as being, on the whole, the clearest.
294
The senses that belong to, accompany, or are connected with, Poetry, are, plainly, the sight, and the hearing, as relative to the
Οψις
, or Spectacle, in the whole extent of that term, and to the
Μελοποιία
or Music. When these are said to be
ἐξ ἀναγκης ἀκολουθουσαι τη ποιητικη
, it cannot be meant that the parts relative to them are essential to the Tragic Poem, like the fable, manners, &c.
295
but only, that they are necessary appendages of the drama in its complete state, as designed for representation. This is perfectly conformable to what was before said of the
Οψις
;
296
that, though confessedly, in one view,
ἥκιστα οἰκειον της ποιητικης
, yet, in another view,
ΕΞ ΑΝΑΓΚΗΣ ἀν εἴη τι μοριον της Τραγωδίας ὁ της Οψεως κοσμος
.
297
The drift of the precept is obvious. The decoration should be such as to agree with the rules just laid down for the manners.
The scenery, dresses, action, &c. must be
ἁρμοττοντα, ὁμοια
— probability, nature, and the costume, must be observed. Even the
μιμησις βελτιονων
, the improved imitation, has here, too, its obvious application. The squalid hair, and ragged dress, of
Electra,
298
must, as well as the
σκληροτης
of
Achilles, be a little flattered in the representation, and not too like, &c.
The rule extends, also, to the
Melopæia, or the Music; which, from other passages of
Aristotle’s works, we may suspect to have been sometimes such, as sacrificed propriety, and just expression — the
ἠθη
, the
πρεπον
, &c. to the depraved taste of what he calls the
Φορτικοι
spectators.
299
300
It is probable that
Aristotle alludes, also, to
cap. xvii.
301
and to the mistakes, which the Poet is liable to commit, who composes without keeping the stage, and the effects of representation, in his eye. Though the Poet neither painted the scenes, nor made the dresses, yet all this formed one of the six constituent parts of Tragedy; fell, of course, under the direction and control of the Poet, and was of the utmost importance to the success of his piece, at a time when representation was almost essential to the idea of dramatic poetry.
121.
mvp-aristotle-comment-121
NOTE 121. P. 96.
16.5
ALL THOSE DISCOVERIES IN WHICH THE SIGN IS PRODUCED BY WAY OF PROOF.
῾Αι πιστεως ἐνεκα
. Well explained by
Dacier after the Italian commentators. Indeed, the very words of
Homer, in the passage alluded to, sufficiently illustrate the meaning of the expression.
Od. φ. 217.
Ει δ'αγε δη και ΣΗΜΑ ἀριφραδες άλλο τι δείξω, Ὀφρα με ἐυ γνωτον, ΠΙΣΤΩΘΗΤΟΝ τ᾽ ἐνι θυμῳ, ΟΥΛΗΝ, &c.
Pope, xxi. 226.
"To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye: "Lo! the broad scar indented on my thigh."
Other instances of signs thus used, not for the purpose of accidental discovery, but as confirmations of a voluntary discovery previously made, may easily be found. Thus, in the
Electra of
Sophocles, when
Electra asks her brother,
η γαρ συ κεινος;
— he answers —
Τηνδε προσβλεψασ᾽ ἐμε Σφραγίδα πατρος, ἐκμαθ᾽ ἐι σαφη λεγω.
122.
mvp-aristotle-comment-122
NOTE 122. P. 96.
16.5
THOSE WHICH----HAPPEN SUDDENLY AND CASUALLY, ARE BETTER.
Εκ περιπετειας
. —
"Non valet hic περιπετεια, mutationem illam ingentem fortunarum, sed, ἐκ περιπετειας, significat, casu, fortuito, et quia ita cecidit."
—
Victorius.
So in the passage from
Polybius quoted by
Suidas, under the words
Περιπετεια
, and
Ευμενης
:
τυχη το πλειον συνεργῳ χρωμενου, οὐκ ΕΚ ΠΕΡΙΠΕΤΕΙΑΣ, ἀλλα δια της ἀγχίνοιας. κ. τ. λ.
Aristotle's using the word thus, adverbially, after having hitherto used it only in its technical, or dramatic, sense, of a sudden change of fortune, produces some ambiguity; and the more so, as the adverbial phrase,
ἐκ περιπετειας
, seems not to be of very common occurrence.
Heinsius, taking
περιπετεια
in the dramatic sense, translates —
"quæ e mutationibus in contrarium oriuntur;"
which, indeed, is the obvious meaning of the expression, if not understood adverbially. But it cannot be
Aristotle's meaning, because the discovery of the fear of
Ulysses was not the consequence of any such
περιπετεια
. Indeed, it was neither the consequence, nor the cause, of any reverse of fortune.
I have sometimes suspected that
Aristotle might write it,
ἐκ ΠΡΟΠΕΤΕΙΑΣ
, by which all ambiguity would have been avoided. But, perhaps, after all, the phrase had no ambiguity to Greek ears, and the passage may be right as it stands.
123.
mvp-aristotle-comment-123
NOTE 123. P. 96.
16.6
DISCOVERIES INVENTED, AT PLEASURE, BY THE POET, AND, ON THAT ACCOUNT, STILL INARTIFICIAL.
Δευτεραι δε, αι πεποιημεναι ὑπο του ποιητου, διο ἀτεχνοι
. — The expression,
πεποιημεναι ὑπο του ποιητου
, must necessarily, I think, be understood emphatically, and must mean, not merely
invented, (for so are the other discoveries also, which follow,) but
arbitrarily invented by the Poet, and obviously so, upon the spur of the occasion; in opposition to such means of discovery and recognition, as, though still indeed of the Poet's invention, are artfully prepared in the very texture of his plot, and appear to arise, necessarily or pro-
bably, from the action itself. And thus I find it well explained by
Piccolomini:
"Chiama Aristotele questa seconda spetie di riconoscimento, fatto dal Poeta e cosi lo chiama, non perche in tutte le spetie il Poeta non sia quello che li riconoscimenti, siccome le altre parti dell' attione e della favola ponga e formi coi versi suoi; ma ha dato à questa spetie più ch' all' altre questo nome, perche in essa, non fondandosi il Poeta, nè nello stesso connettimento delle cose, e nella stessa favola, nè in segno alcuno che la persona stessa, che s'ha da riconoscere, gli offerisca inanzi; egli, per questo, come libero divenuto, à suo mero (quasi) arbitrio, reca, finge, e pone in bocca della persona à voglia sua, quella occasione di riconoscimento che più gli piace,"
&c. [p. 230.] — Yet, as this sense is rather inferred from the explanation subjoined, (
ταυτα γὰρ αυτος λεγει ῾Α ΒΟΥΛΕΤΑΙ Ὁ ΠΟΙΗΤΗΣ, ἀλλ' οὐχ Ὁ ΜΥΘΟΣ
) than expressed by the words themselves, I am much inclined to suppose some omission in the text.
The other reading,
ΟΥΚ ἀτεχνοι
, is very plausibly supported by the
Abbé Batteux, from a passage of
Aristotle's
Rhetoric, which has been already mentioned in NOTE 104.
302
I doubt, however, whether that passage be fairly applicable to this. But though it were, the sense above given, and which I think must be given, to the expression
πεποιημεναι ὑπο του Π.
seems hardly reconcilable with this reading. For can we conceive that
Aristotle would assign as a reason why such discoveries are
not inartificial, that they are arbitrarily (and therefore easily,) invented by the Poet? —
ΔΙΟ οὐκ ἀτεχνοι
.
I must observe, however, that though these two readings are diametrically opposite,
ἀτεχνοι
-
οὐκ ἀτεχνοι
— yet, it is some comfort, that whichever we adopt, the general sense of the passage
will be the same. As such discoveries are of the Poet's invention, they are not
ἀτεχνοι
, in the rhetorical sense: as they require very little invention, compared with those which arise from the action itself, they may, in this view, be denominated,
ἀτεχνοι
. In either reading, therefore,
Aristotle will be found to say the same thing; i. e. that the discoveries of this second species are, in point of art and ingenuity, superior to the first species, and inferior to all the rest.
124.
mvp-aristotle-comment-124
NOTE 124. P. 96.
16.6
ORESTES, AFTER HAVING DISCOVERED HIS SISTER, DISCOVERS HIMSELF TO HER.
The Greek is —
ἀνεγνωρισε την ἀδελφην, ἀνεγνωρισθεις ὑπ᾿ ἐκεινης
: — this, as
Victorius has observed, seems to say the reverse; i. e. that
Orestes discovered his sister after having been discovered by her: which is not the fact. One would rather have expected —
ἀναγνωρισας την ἀδελφην, ἀνεγνωρισθη ὑπ᾿ ἐκεινης
: which would also have been clearer, and not have given occasion to the commentators to suppose, that the discovery of
Iphigenia by the letter was meant to be included in this second and faulty species of discovery; whereas the expression
ΟΙΟΝ Ορ. ΑΝΕΓΝΩΡΙΣΕ την ἀδελφην
, leads very naturally to that idea. But it is easy to see, upon the least reflection, that the discovery of
Orestes
only is the example here intended. This is sufficiently explained by
Dacier after
Victorius. It was natural enough, however, for
Aristotle to mention the other discovery, in passing, as being the counterpart of a double
ἀναγνωρισις
in the same drama. [See
cap. xi.
at the end. Transl. Part II. Sect. 9.] — But this whole passage, I may say, this whole chapter, has undoubtedly been most miserably mangled in transcription.
125.
mvp-aristotle-comment-125
NOTE 125. P. 96.
16.6
BUT ORESTES, BY [VERBAL PROOFS] &c.
The reading which
Victorius regarded as most authentic is this: —
ἐκεινος δε * * * * ταυτα γὰρ αυτος λέγει ἃ βέλεται ὁ ποιητης, ἀλλ᾿ οὐχ ὁ μυθος
. — But four Medicean manuscripts, and, it seems, all those in the King of
France's library, agree in reading —
ἐκεινου δε αυτος λέγει, κ. τ. λ.
303
and, in the latter, we are told, the words are written without any hiatus. This last reading, however, appears to me short and deficient. I cannot but think that the author, after the words
ἐκεινος δε
, — had expressed the means of the discovery, and by them denominated this species, as he has all the others: —
δια σημειων
—
δια μνημης
—
ἐκ συλλογισμου
—. But how the vacancy was filled, it is impossible to determine; and it is of the less consequence to determine, as we are in possession of the Tragedy itself. —
Δια σημείων
, which
Victorius found in one MS. or,
δια τεκμηρίων
, as
Dacier ingeniously conjectured from the words of
Euripides himself, seem most probable.
In point of meaning, it is indifferent by which of these appellations these discoveries were distinguished;
τεκμηριον
being, according to
Aristotle's own definition in his
Rhetoric, only a species of
σημειον
.
Τουτων δε ( . . των σημείων,) το μεν ἀναγκαιον, τεκμηριον
.
304
Σημειον
is a sign, or token:
Τεκμηριον
, a certain, decisive sign, such as puts an end to all doubt, according to the derivation of the word given by
Aristotle in the passage just referred to. We see, therefore, with what strict propriety the word is used by
Euripides, when
Iphigenia demands, and
Orestes professes to give, a decisive proof:
Iphig. in Taur. v. 808.
ἔχεις τι τωνδε μοι ΤΕΚΜΗΡΙΟΝ ;
And
Orestes, presently after, when he produces his last and strongest proof, says —
Iphig. in Taur. v. 822.
῾Αδ᾽ ἐιδον αυτος, ταδε φρασω ΤΕΚΜΗΡΙΑ.
305
It is, indeed, some objection to
δια σημειων
, in this passage of
Aristotle, that it would appear to confound this discovery with the first, by giving it the same denomination. But this, perhaps, would be sufficiently obviated by the explanation immediately subjoined: —
δια σημείων ΤΑΥΤΑ γὰρ αυτος ΛΕΓΕΙ ἃ βέλεται
, &c.
Σημειον
, in the first species of discovery, is used for visible, external proofs: here, it would be used for verbal, argumentative proofs; as it is used, continually, in this treatise. And it may also be observed, that
Aristotle himself, at the end of this chapter, (if the integrity of the text be admitted,) refers to this sort of discovery, among others, under the denomination of
πεποιημενα ΣΗΜΕΙΑ
.
126.
mvp-aristotle-comment-126
NOTE 126. P. 96.
16.6
FOR SOME OF THE THINGS, FROM WHICH THOSE PROOFS ARE DRAWN, ARE EVEN SUCH AS MIGHT HAVE BEEN PRODUCED AS VISIBLE SIGNS.
Εξην γαρ ἂν ἐνια και ἐνεγκαν
. In the sense which I have given to this obscure sentence, the only sense that I thought could fairly be extracted from the words, I am glad to find myself supported by the judgment of
Victorius.
"Quare propè dictum peccatum est: (ὅ ἐγγυς της ειρημενης ἁμαρτιας ἐστιν.) quia si illa quibus usus est Orestes non omninò signa fuerunt; neque enim ostendi potuerunt; — propè tamen illa accesserunt; atque ita propè ut quædam ex ipsis illius prorsus generis fuerint, quamvis ita ipsis ille usus non sit. Hoc enim arbitror valere, 'licebat enim quædam etiam portare' id est, manu tenere, et jubere ut ipsa videret ac reminisceretur,"
&c.
Ενια
, because all the proofs of
Orestes were not of this kind, but only
Electra's work, and the lance.
127.
mvp-aristotle-comment-127
NOTE 127. P. 96.
16.7
THE DISCOVERY BY THE SOUND OF THE SHUTTLE,
Ἡ της κερκιδος φωνη
—
Dacier, after some other commentators, makes a
speaking shuttle of this; and wonders, as, indeed, he well might, that the great critic should let so monstrous an absurdity pass without a severer censure than that of its wanting art. Others understand, much more reasonably, not the literal, but the metaphorical, voice of the shuttle, in the epistolary web by which
Philomela is said to have conveyed to her sister the dismal tale of her sufferings, —
ἱστῳ ποικίλμασι ΣΤΟΜΑΤΙ χρησαμένη
, in the language of that most curious of all Poets,
John Tzetzes.
306
But as this seems to have been the current traditional story, I do not see how it could be adduced as a circumstance invented at pleasure by the Poet. I should rather suppose, that the discovery in question, whatever it might be, was effected by the
sound of the shuttle, which
Aristotle calls,
φωνη
,
voice, not, probably, in his own language, but in the poetical language of the Tragedy itself to which he alludes. For these
κερκιδες
, it seems, were a very vocal sort of things, nothing like the shuttles of "these degenerate days." Every one recollects the
"arguto pectine"
of
Virgil. But this is nothing to the amplification of some Greek epigrammatists, who scruple not to compare them to swallows, and even to nightingales;
Κερκίδας ὀρθρολαλοισι ΧΕΛΙΔΟΣΙΝ εικελοφωνους
— And,
Κερκίδα δ' εὐποἰητον ΑΗΔΟΝΑ
— .
307
Hence the ridiculous fancy of
Joseph Scaliger, that the metamorphosis of
Procne into a swallow was exhibited in the
Tereus of
Sophocles, and that a shuttle was made use of, instead of a whistle or bird-pipe, to imitate the swallow's voice!
128.
mvp-aristotle-comment-128
NOTE 128. P. 96.
16.8
THUS IN THE CYPRIANS OF DICÆOGENES
That this was a distinct Poem from the
Κυπρια
mentioned afterwards in
cap. xxiii.
seems clear from this single circumstance, observed by
Victorius, that the Epic Poem called
The Cypriacs, —
τα Κυπρια ἐπη
, — is mentioned there by
Aristotle, as it is, generally, by other antient writers, in terms that imply a doubt of its author:
308
whereas here the author is named, without any expression of uncertainty. Whether the Poem was Epic, or Tragic, cannot be determined; nor, from the ambiguity of the case,
τοις Κυπριοις
, whether the title of it was
Τα Κυπρια, or
Κυπριοι —
The Cypriacs, or,
The Cyprians. The latter is, certainly, the most probable title for a Tragedy, and therefore, as
Dicæogenes is recorded only as a Tragic and Dithyrambic Poet, I have ventured to adopt it.
129.
mvp-aristotle-comment-129
NOTE 129. P. 96.
16.8
IN THE TALE OF ALCINOUS.
See
Od. VIII. 521
. There is another discovery of the same kind in the
4th book
, where
Menelaus recognizes
Telemachus by the tears he sheds at the mention of his father. There is not, I think, either in
Homer, or in any other Poet, a more natural and affecting picture of friendly regret on the one hand, and filial affection on the other. "Of all the friends I have lost," says
Menelaus, addressing himself to
Telemachus without knowing who he was — "one there is, whom I lament more than all the rest:"
Od. Δ. 105.
ὅστε μοι ὑπνον ἀπεχθαιρει και ἐδωδην Μνωσμενῳ· ἐπει οὔτις Αχαιων τοσσ᾿ ἐμογησεν Ὁσσ᾽ Ὀδυσευς ἐμογησε και ήρατο — τῳ δ᾽ ἀρ ἔμελλε Αυτῳ κηδε᾽ ἐσεσθαι, ἐμοι δ᾽ ἀχος ἀιεν ἀλαστον Κεινου, ὅπως δη δηρον ἀποιχεται· οὐδε τι ίδμεν, Ζωει ὅγ᾽, η τεθνηκεν. . . . . . . . Οδυρονται νυ που αυτον Λαέρτης θ' ὁ γερων, και ἐχέφρων Πηνελοπεια, Τηλεμαχος θ᾽, ὃν ἐλειπε νεον γεγαωτ᾽ ἐνι οἴκῳ. Ὡς φατο — τῳ δ' ἀρα πατρος ὑφ' ἵμερον ὦρσε γοοιο. Δακρυ δ᾽ ἀπο βλεφαρων χαμάδις βαλε, πατρος ἀκουσας, Χλαιναν πορφυρεην ἀντ᾽ ὀφθαλμοῖν ἀνασχων Αμφοτέρησι χερσι· νοησε δε μιν Μενελαος.
309
That the title,
Αλκινοου
, or
Αλκινου ἀπολογος
, was understood to refer chiefly to the long narration of
Ulysses, which occupies four books of the
Odyssey, seems clear, even from the proverbial
application of the expression.
Απολογος Αλκίνου· ἐπι των φλυαρούντων, και μακρον ἀποτεινοντων λογον
. —
Suidas. And so
Jul. Pollux: —
ἐπι μακρων ῥησεων
.
310
But a passage in
Aristotle's
Rhetoric leaves no doubt. He there expressly mentions
Homer's account of the speech of
Ulysses to
Penelope,
Od. xxiii. 310, &c.
as being the
Αλκινου ἀπολογος
compressed into an abridgment of thirty verses.
Παραδειγμα ὁ Αλκινου ἀπολογος, ὅτι προς την Πηνελοπην ἐν τριακοντα ἐπεσι πεποἰηται
.
311
Now those verses are, in fact, a mere table of contents to the 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th books, which contain the narrative of
Ulysses at the court of
Alcinous. This title, therefore, (
Αλκινου Απολογος
) must at least have extended to those four books. But the passage which is the subject of this note, seems to prove that it extended still farther; for here we are referred to the eighth book under that title; though the speech, the
μακρα ῥησις
of
Ulysses, does not commence till the ninth. The editions prefix the title,
Αλκινου ἀπολογΟΙ
, only to the eighth book. The fact seems to be, that the titles, by which the different parts of
Homer's Poems were first distinguished, were applied to parts of very unequal lengths; so that afterwards, when the equal, or nearly equal, division into books took place, it would not always coincide exactly with the other division, formed by the different distinct subjects or episodes of the Poem; but one title would sometimes comprehend several books, and different parts of the same book, would sometimes be distinguished by different titles. Thus, for example, the fifth book of the
Odyssey had two titles,
Καλυψους Αντρον
, and
Σχεδια
, or
Τα περι την σχεδιαν
: and the last book three,
Νέκυιαν
—
Τα ἐν Λαερτου
— and,
Σπονδαι
.
312
And thus, on the other hand, the title,
Αλκινου Απολογος
, is not, I apprehend, to be considered as appropriated to any one book, but, probably, comprehended five books — from the eighth to the twelfth, inclusively;
perhaps, was understood to refer, generally, to the whole Episode of
Alcinous; as indeed the expression
ΑΛΚΙΝΟΥ ἀπολογ.
— the "story OF ALCINOUS" — seems rather to imply. And the different parts of this long Episode were, again, subdistinguished by other titles; such as,
Κυκλωπια, Νέκυια, Τα Κιρκης
, &c. Indeed, the title,
Αλκινου Απολογοι
, though prefixed only to the eighth book, seems evidently extended beyond that book by the title subjoined as its equivalent,
η, τα του Οδυσσεως παρα Αλκινῳ
. But how the word
ἀπολογος
got into the plural number here, I do not well understand. This circumstance, however, together with the idea of its being confined to this single book, has, I think, led
Perizonius and other learned men into mistakes concerning the reason of the appellation.
Perizonius (ubi sup.) thinks the eighth book was so called, "because there are several speeches of
Alcinous in it;" and others suppose, that the title alludes to the songs of
Demodocus.
313
130.
mvp-aristotle-comment-130
NOTE 130. P. 96.
16.9
THE DISCOVERY OCCASIONED BY REASONING, OR INFERENCE; SUCH AS THAT IN THE CHOEPHORA-.
Here is much obscurity and confusion. One thing, however, seems clear; that
ἐκ συλλογισμου
, cannot mean as some interpreters have understood it to mean, "by reasoning or inference in the mind of the person who makes the discovery;" because this is common to all the modes of discovery. When
Electra recognizes her brother, does she not infer, or, in the philosopher's language, syllogize? "This man has seen the lance — nobody could see it but
Orestes — This is
Orestes." And the same may be said of all the other recognitions. Discovery by inference, therefore, on
the part of the discoverer, cannot be made a distinct species. The discovery
Aristotle means, is plainly a discovery, not
made, but
occasioned, by inference. Throughout all his instances, he considers only the means, or occasion, of discovery, as furnished, in some way or other, by the person discovered. With respect to bodily marks, bracelets, &c. the letter of
Iphigenia, and the verbal
τεκμηρια
of
Orestes, this is obvious enough. But the case is the same with the discovery by memory: in both the examples of that species, the persons are discovered, not by recollection in the discoverers, but by the effects of it in themselves. And so here too, in the three last examples of discovery
ἐκ συλλογισμου
, however obscure in other respects, this at least seems clearly enough expressed, that the persons are discovered by their own reasoning, or inference; that is, by something which it leads them to say.
314
But, the difficulty is, that
Aristotle's first example, appears not to accord with this idea, and with the other examples.
315
The inference here, appears to be, even from the words themselves, and, if the
Choephora of
Æschylus be intended, as the commentators suppose, certainly is, — inference in the mind of the person who makes the discovery.
316
But as this, for the reasons already given, cannot, I think, be admitted, we must either leave this knot as it is, or solve it by supposing some other Tragedy, not extant, to be meant, in which the conclusion mentioned was, as in all the other instances that follow, the occasion only of the discovery. Nor will this appear a very improbable supposition, if we recollect the
swarm of Tragic Poets who were continually exercising their invention upon a few popular subjects, and the number of different Tragedies which, in consequence, we find recorded, not only on the same subject, but even with the same title; often with some slight variation only, in the mode of a discovery, and other episodic incidents of the plot, which would still leave a general resemblance, a sort of family likeness, between them, such as, in fact, we find in Tragedies on the same subject now extant; in the
Electra of
Sophocles, and that of
Euripides, and the
Choephora of
Æschylus.
But we may say, farther, that this supposition seems to be favoured by the Tragedy of
Æschylus, itself;
317
with which, what
Aristotle here says, appears to me by no means exactly to correspond. The reader, who will take the trouble to examine the whole passage supposed to be here alluded to, from v. 166, to v. 233, will, I believe, think with me, that the discovery, in that play, cannot with propriety be denominated a discovery made by inference from resemblance. The circumstances of the lock of hair, and the footsteps, produce in
Electra's mind no more than a glimmering of hope —
σαινομαι δ᾽ ὑπ᾿ ἐλπιδος
[v. 192.] and she is so far from discovering
Orestes by them, that even when he appears before her, she is not convinced till he produces the
ὑφασμα
— the vest, or veil. This is justly remarked by
Brumoy;
318
"Tout cela (i. e. the hair, &c.) ne fait que la rendre plus inquiete: Elle demeure donc dans ce trouble jusqu' à ce qu' Oreste paroisse à ses yeux. Il se montre tout à coup, et se fait reconnoitre pour son frere, en lui présentant un voile qu'elle a tissu elle-meme."
This I take to be the true
ἀναγνωρισις
of this drama; and it belongs
rather to
Aristotle's first class —
δια σημειων
; if not even to the worst sort of that class, where the sign is produced
πιστεως ἐνεκα
, — by way of proof. Indeed, even admitting that
Electra may be considered as recognizing her brother by inference from the resemblance of the lock of hair and the footsteps only, still, as
Piccolomini acutely and solidly observes, this instance would belong to the first species of discovery by signs.
"Questo riconoscimento non è della quarta specie, ma della prima; nato, non da sillogismo, ma da segno: posciache Elettra, preso per segno d'Oreste la capigliatura, sopra tal segno, quasi sopra mezzo termine, fabrica il sillogismo che ella fa in se stessa, argomentando, che colui fusse Oreste: havendo io già detto, ch' in ogni riconoscimento suol intervenir sillogismo ed argomentatione dentro all'animo della persona riconoscente."
p. 236.
131.
mvp-aristotle-comment-131
NOTE 131. P. 97.
16.9
"HE CAME TO FIND HIS SON, AND HE HIMSELF MUST PERISH."It is not very obvious, how these words are to be brought to any thing like, reasoning, or inference. But all here is darkness. The far-fetched explanation which
Dacier has condescended to borrow, without notice, from
Castelvetro, for whom, in his preface, he expresses so much contempt, only serves to make the "darkness" more "visible."
I know not whether it be worth while to remark a mere resemblance of expression, but a very close one, in
Homer:
Od. Ο. 90.
Μη πατερ᾿ ἀντίθεον ΔΙΖΗΜΕΝΟΣ, ΑΥΤΟΣ ΟΛΩΜΑΙ.
132.
mvp-aristotle-comment-132
NOTE 132. P. 97.
16.10
THERE IS ALSO A COMPOUND SORT, &C.When the meaning of an author cannot be satisfactorily explained, all that a translator can do, is, to be particularly careful to render faithfully his words. This I have endeavoured to do here: but whether I have done even this, the manifest corruption of the text must leave uncertain. Whatever sense may be enveloped in the Greek, I hope remains enveloped in the English. But what that is, I will not undertake to say.
With respect to the title of the drama,
Οδυσσευς Ψευδαγγελος
, if I have not given it its only possible sense, I have, surely, given it its most natural and obvious sense: —
Ulysses in the disguise of a messenger. For I am really not able to see, how the words, without violent twisting, can be made to signify passively, as
Castelvetro would have it,
"Ulisse di cui sono recate false novelle;"
though
Victorius has pronounced a man to be a fool, who pretends to determine which of these two meanings is the right one.
319
Had a false
Ulysses been meant, it seems probable, that the word
Ψευδοδυσσευς
would rather have been used; as
Ψευδηράκλης
,
The false Hercules, was the title of a Comedy of
Menander.
Αναγνωριεντα . . τε θεατρου
: I see no other construction, as the text stands. And so
Victorius:
"Spectatores ita accepisse illam vocem, tanquam si ipsi, rei illius auxilio, ipsum agnituri essent."
Ulysses seems to have been a rich and valuable resource to the dramatic writers. His history furnished the subjects of many Comedies, as well as Tragedies. See
Cassaubon upon Athenæus, p. 297
. There were,
Ulysses Wounded —
Ulysses Mad —
Ulysses the Deserter —
Ulysses Shipwrecked —
Ulysses Weaving, &c. — The subject
of the play here mentioned seems to have been suggested by
Homer, Od. Τ. 120
. But, what it was — how this discovery was compound (
συνθετος
) — or how, indeed, it was a discovery at all — what the precise paralogism was, &c. I confess myself totally unable, from the short, perplexed, and probably corrupt words of the text, to make out. The reader may see, however, a great variety of different conjectures in the commentators; and I believe when he has read them all he will find himself just where he was. For my part, I leave this bow of
Ulysses to be bent by stronger arms than mine: —
Ω φίλοι, οὐ μεν ἐγω τανυω — λαβετω δε και άλλος.
133.
mvp-aristotle-comment-133
NOTE 133. P. 97.
16.11
BUT OF ALL DISCOVERIES, THE BEST IS THAT WHICH ARISES FROM THE ACTION ITSELF--.I agree with those commentators, who understand this to be given by
Aristotle as a species of
ἀναγνωρισις
distinct from any of the preceding. This appears, 1. From his examples, which are very different from all those before produced, and not reducible, I think, to any of his classes. The discovery of
Iphigenia by the letter, is, indeed, mentioned under his second class, but not as an instance of that species. — See NOTE 124. 2dly, and principally, from his saying, "After these, the next best are the discoveries by inference" naming an entire species; which he would not, surely, have done, had his best of all discoveries been such, as might be found equally in the other species; had he been speaking, as some understand him, only of the best way of using the discoveries already enumerated.
134.
mvp-aristotle-comment-134
NOTE 134. P. 98.
16.11
SUCH DISCOVERIES ARE THE BEST, BECAUSE THEY ALONE ARE EFFECTED WITHOUT INVENTED PROOFS, OR BRACELETS, &C. NEXT TO THESE ARE THE DISCOVERIES BY INFERENCE.If the words,
πεποιημένων σημείων
, refer, as it is generally understood, to the second sort of discoveries exclusively, it is not easy to see how it can be true, that the fifth and best sort of discoveries, that
ἐκ πραγματων
, is the only one that is effected without invented signs, bracelets, &c. for, on this supposition, the same may evidently be said of the third and fourth classes, those by memory, and by inference, which are expressly distinguished from the two first classes.
This inconsistence is not, I think, to be removed, but by understanding the words
πεποιημενα σημεια
, here, to be used in a wider sense, as including the third and fourth species, and, in general, all discoveries that have any degree of the defect which
Aristotle means to point out by the expression
πεποιημεναι ὑπο του ποιητου
, used in describing the second species, as opposed to what he calls,
ἐξ ἀυτων πραγματων
;
320
though that second species only is expressly so denominated, because it had this fault in the most glaring degree.
Any incident, or single action, of that combination of actions that compose a fable, is said, I think, to be
ἐξ αυτων πραγματων
, when it is prepared in the texture of the plot, and appears to follow so naturally and of course (
κατα το ἀναγκαιον ἢ το ἐικος
) from the incidents which precede it, that the spectator does not see how it could have been otherwise.
321
On the contrary, those incidents
are not
ἐξ ἀυτων πραγματων
, which are not thus gradually prepared, but have, more or less, the appearance of expedients brought in to answer the purpose of the moment; which suggest the idea of occasional and easy contrivance; which, though not, perhaps, improbable, yet have not such a degree of probability, as answers fully the purpose of dramatic illusion, by acting upon the mind of the spectator as necessity, and keeping his attention rivetted to the action, without suffering him, as it were, to turn his eyes a moment from it, to the resources of the Poet’s invention.
Now the third and fourth sorts of discovery appear, when we examine them, to be of this kind. They are not prepared and brought on gradually by the previous circumstances of the fable, as in the examples given from the
Oedipus, and
Iphigenia in Tauris, but effected by contrivances, more or less naturally introduced by the Poet, at the moment when they are wanted; by tears suddenly shed at the sight of a picture, by an exclamation suddenly uttered. These, therefore, are not improperly included under the denomination of
πεποιημενα
(
ὑπο του ποιητου
); and they are, also, in the proper and logical sense of the word,
σημεια
; the tears, in the one case, and the illative reflection, or exclamation, in the other, being tokens, by which the persons are recognized. And thus, what
Aristotle here says seems true that the discovery which arises out of the action itself, is the only sort that is entirely effected
ἀνευ των πεποιημενων σημείων και περιδεραιων
: by
περιδεραια
, meaning the first class of discoveries, and under
πεποιημενα σημεια
comprehending the three other classes.
He has, plainly, arranged his modes of discovery, as he had before arranged the modes of managing the
παθη
, or disastrous incidents, of Tragedy (
cap. xiv.
) — in the order of their comparative excellence; beginning with the worst, and proceeding gradually to the best. When he tells us, that the discoveries by inference are the next best, he evidently considers them, as not being, strictly at least,
ἐξ ἀυτων πραγματων
; and so far, I think, is intelligible: but, in what respect they are better than the preceding species,
δια μνημης
, he has not told us. The discovery by recollection may, perhaps, in this respect be regarded as less
ἐξ ἀυτων πραγματων
, more of the "Poet’s making," as it seems to require the introduction of something accidental and extraneous, such as the picture in his first instance, and the Bard and his performance, in the second; circumstances, which have more the appearance of expedients than the reflection of
Orestes, for example, in the Tragedy of
Polyides. For that reflection arose, at least, naturally, and solely, from his situation, and that situation was essential to the fable.
But it is time to release the reader, and myself, from the embarrassments of one of the most corrupt, confused, and ambiguous chapters of this mutilated and disfigured work.
135.
mvp-aristotle-comment-135
NOTE 135. P. 98.
17.2
THIS, THE POET, &c.
Ὁ μη ὁρωντα τον θεατην ἐλανθανεν
. —
Dacier has, at least, I think, satisfactorily proved, that this passage wants some emendation, and that the sense must be — "escaped the Poet, (not the spectator,) for want of his seeing, or conceiving himself to see, the action." He might have added to his other reasons, that the word
λανθανει
, applied just before to the Poet, seems to fix the same application of
ἐλανθανε
here. The opposition, as he has observed, is strongly marked: — it escaped the Poet;
ἐπι ΔΕ της ΣΚΗΝΗΣ
, &c.
but upon the stage, &c.
Castelvetro had seen this before
Dacier, and conjectured,
ὁ μη, ὁρωντα, ΩΣ τον θεατην, ἐλανθανεν ΑΝ
.
"La qual contrarietà non sarebbe potuto essere celata a Carcino, se avesse riguardata la sua Tragedia non come Poeta, ma come veditore."
322
The ingenuity of the conjecture may be allowed; not so, I fear, the accuracy of the Greek.
136.
mvp-aristotle-comment-136
NOTE 136. P. 98.
17.3
IN COMPOSING, THE POET SHOULD ALSO, AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, BE AN ACTOR.
Τοις σχήμασι συναπεργαζομενον ποιειν
. — The same expression occurs in the
Rhetoric III. 8
.
ἀναγκη τους συναπεργαζομενους σχήμασι, και φωναις, και ἐσθητι, και όλως τη ὑποκρισει, ἐλεεινοτερους ειναι
. But there, this is mentioned only as the means, by which the Orator may excite greater emotion in the hearer, immediately: here, as the means, by which the Poet may excite a stronger emotion, a greater reality of imagination and feeling, and a more perfect alienation of person, if I may venture so to call it, in himself, immediately; in order to produce afterwards a correspondent effect upon the spectator, by the force and truth of his imitation.
"I have often observed,"
says the admirable author of the
Inquiry concerning the Sublime and Beautiful,
323
"that on mimicking the looks and gestures of angry, or placid, or frighted, or daring men, I have involuntarily found my mind turned to that passion whose appearance I endeavoured to imitate; nay, I am convinced it is hard to avoid it, though one strove to separate the passion from its correspondent gestures."
I believe, however, it is hardly possible to put on the bodily appearance of any passion,
without previously turning the mind, in some degree, to that passion. But it is certain, that the effect, in this case, will react upon the cause, and convert a slight and nascent emotion into a more steady, strong, and real feeling of the passion.
A singular instance of the practice of this rule of
Aristotle —
σχημασι συναπεργαζομενον ποιειν
— in a sister art, is given in the following curious account, from
Felibien, of
Domenichino, a painter remarkable for expression.
"Il ne pouvoit comprendre qu’il y eut des peintres qui travaillassent à des ouvrages considérables avec si peu d’application, que pendant leur travail ils ne laisassent pas de s’entretenir avec leurs amis. Il les regardoit comme des ouvriers qui n’avoient que la pratique, et nulle intelligence de l’art; etant persuadé qu’un Peintre, pour bien réüssir, doit entrer dans une parfaite connoissance des affections de l’esprit et des passions de l’ame; qu’il doit les sentir en lui même, et s’il faut ainsi dire, faire les memes actions et souffrir les mêmes mouvemens qu’il veut représenter: ce qui ne se peut au milieu des distractions. Aussi on l’entendoit quelquefois parler en travaillant, avec une voix languissante et pleine de douleur, ou tenir des discours agréables et joyeux, selon les divers sentimens qu’il avoit intention d’exprimer. Mais pour cela, il s’enfermoit dans un lieu fort retiré, pour n’être pas apperçu dans ces differens états, ni par ses eléves, ni par ceux de sa famille; parcequ’il lui étoit arrivé quelquefois, que des gens qui l’avoient vû dans ces transports, l’avoient soupçonné de folie. Lorsque dans sa jeunesse il travailloit au Tableau, du Martyre de S. André qui est à S. Gregoire, Annibal Carrache étant allé pour le voir, il le surprit comme il étoit dans une action de colére et menaçante. Après l’avoir observé quelque temps, il connut qu’il representoit un soldat qui menace le S. Apôtre. Alors ne pouvant plus se tenir caché, il s’approcha du Dominiquin, et en l’embrassant, lui avoüa qu’il avoit dans ce moment-là beaucoup appris de lui."
324
I will just observe, farther, that this precept, or rather counsel, of
Aristotle, would appear the less strange to the Poets of his time, because, as he himself tells us, the earlier Tragic Poets were also actors:
ὑπεκρινοντο γαρ αυτοι Τραγῳδιας οι ποιηται το πρωτον
. —
Rhet. III. 1
. But, indeed, I am so far from seeing any thing strange or improbable in this advice, that, on the contrary, if it be liable to any objection at all, it is, perhaps, rather to that of being unnecessary: for I scarce believe, that any Poet of genius, antient or modern, ever yet composed a Tragedy without practising involuntarily, in some degree or other, what the critic here recommends. No dramatic Poetry, I think, can be less chargeable with the
μανικον
, than that of the French. Yet
M. Marmontel sees no difficulty in this precept. In his account of this part of
Aristotle’s work, he says,
"Il recommande que l’on soit présent à l’action que l’on veut peindre, que l’on se penetre soi-meme des sentimens que l’on doit exprimer, et qu’on imite, en composant, l’action des personnages qu’on met sur la scene: méthode qui contribue réellement à donner au style plus de chaleur et de vérité."
[
Poet. Franc. I. p. 15.]
Mr. Mason says of the late ingenious and amiable
Mr. Whitehead, whose dramatic compositions, whatever other merit may justly be allowed them, certainly bear no marks of any unmanageable phrensy in the Poet, that "he is apt to believe, that he always acted, or at least declaimed, while he was composing for the stage." If, then, even the modern Tragic Poet is, almost necessarily, more or less, "an actor in composing," there can surely be little difficulty in conceiving an
Aeschylus, or a
Sophocles, in their free, solitary, and unwritten meditations, to have given still greater scope to their imaginations, and,
ΟΣΑ ΔΥΝΑΤΟΝ
, at least,
σχημασι συναπεργασασθαι
. We must, for once, divest ourselves of modern ideas, and think, not of a spruce Poet of "these degenerate days," shut up in his study, with his pen in his hand, and his writing-table before him — but of
Euripides, retired into that lonely, dark, and shaggy cavern, which is said to have been the favourite scene of his
Tragic meditations.
"Philochorus refert, in insulâ Salamine speluncam esse tetram et horridam, quam nos vidimus, in quâ Euripides Tragedias fcriptitarit."
—
Aul. Gell. xv. 20
.
137.
mvp-aristotle-comment-137
NOTE 137. P. 98.
17.3
FOR BY NATURAL SYMPATHY, &C.
Πιθανωτατοι γαρ ἀπο της αυτης φυσεως δι ἐν παθεσιν εισι
. — Nothing, I think, can be more forced and improbable, than the sense given to the words,
ἀπο της αυτης φυσεως
, by
Victorius, and, after him, by
Goulston and
Dacier:
"eorum qui pari naturâ ingenioque præditi, &c."
"De deux hommes qui seront d’un égal genie, celui qui se mettra dans la passion sera toujours plus persuasif."
If the text be right, the only sense I see is that given by
Heinsius:
"propter similitudinem ejusdem naturæ:"
i. e. "from natural sympathy." — But I am much disposed to suspect, that we should read,
ἀπ᾿ ΑΥΤΗΣ ΤΗΣ φυσεως
—
ab ipsa naturâ
; —
Ipsa naturâ comparatum est, ut, &c.
A similar, but contrary, transposition, of the same words, occurred at the end of the second chapter:
ἐν ἀυτῃ δε τη διαφορα
— plainly, as
Victorius observes, instead of
ΤΗ ΑΥΤΗ
. And, indeed, this sense is so obvious, that
Robortelli,
Castelvetro, and
Piccolomini, have all given it in their translations, though certainly not warranted by the text. However, as the other reading seems to express, though somewhat obscurely, the same idea, I have not departed from it any farther, than by adopting the explanatory version of
Heinsius, which takes the meaning, and leaves the obscurity.
138.
mvp-aristotle-comment-138
NOTE 138. P. 98.
17.3
WE SHARE THE AGITATION OF THOSE WHO APPEAR TO BE TRULY AGITATED-THE ANGER OF THOSE WHO APPEAR TO BE TRULY ANGRY.
Χειμαινει ὁ χειμαζομενος, και χαλεπαινει ὁ ὀργιζομενος ἀληθινωτατα
. I have given that sense of this passage, in which all the commentators I have seen are perfectly agreed. But I cannot dissemble a difficulty which has always occurred to me in this interpretation, though, to my surprise, I have not found it any where taken notice of. I mean, that it gives a transitive sense to the verbs,
χειμαινει
, and
χαλεπαινει
.
With respect, particularly, to the verb
χαλεπαινειν
, (for the other occurs but seldom,) the difficulty from the general, if not the constant, use of it, as a verb neuter, seems not easily to be overcome. This use of it, by
Aristotle himself, and by other prose writers, is so common and well known, that it would be mere trifling to produce instances. That it is never used by them transitively, it would be rash, perhaps, even in those, whose Greek reading is much more extensive than my own, to affirm. I can only say, that I have never seen a clear instance of it, either in prose, or verse. The lexicographers, indeed, send us to
Homer: but without giving any instance that appears to me to be at all decisive.
325
And, on the other hand, the word occurs clearly in its usual and intransitive sense in other passages: as,
Il. Ξ. 256. Π. 386. Σ. 103, &c.
But even admitting the verb to be now and then used by
Homer in a sense indisputably transitive, it seems very unlikely, that
Aristotle should transplant so rare, and poetical, a use of the word, into plain and philosophical prose; especially as other verbs were probably at hand, if he meant what
he is supposed to mean, which would not have been liable to this ambiguity.
This difficulty has sometimes led me to suspect, that the passage may possibly, after all, admit of a different sense; and that
Aristotle may have meant only to say this: — "The Poet should work himself, as far as may be, into the passion he is to represent, by even assuming the countenance, and the gestures, which are its natural expressions. For they, of course, have most probability and truth in their imitation, who actually feel, in some degree, the passion: and no one expresses agitation of mind (
χειμαινει
) so naturally, (
ἀληθινωτατα
,) as he who is really agitated, (
χειμαζομενος
,) or expresses anger (
χαλεπαινει
) so naturally, as he who is really angry (
ὀργιζομενος
.)" — Thus, the forms,
χειμαινει
,
χαλεπαινει
, will retain their neuter signification, referring to the Poet’s expression of the passion in his composition; as,
χειμαζομενου
, and
ὀργιζομενου
, refer to the internal feeling of the passion, which he has excited in his own mind.
Χειμαζεσθαι
— to be violently agitated in mind: —
Χειμαινειν
— to express that agitation by words or actions:
ὀργιζεσθαι
— to be angry:
χαλεπαινειν
— to express that anger by words or actions.
It will, perhaps, be objected, that
χαλεπαινειν
, used as a verb neuter, appears to be synonymous with
ὀργιζεσθαι
. That it may be often so, I will not take upon me to deny: but numerous instances may certainly be produced, where it is not so — where it clearly denotes something beyond the mere internal passion. In this line of
Homer, for example;
Ζευς, ὅτε δη ῥ' ἀνδρεσσι ΚΟΤΕΣΣΑΜΕΝΟΣ ΧΑΛΕΠΗΝΗΙ.
Il. Π. 386.
—
"iratus sæviat;"
— where the anger of
Jupiter is expressed by
κοτεσσάμενος
but
χαλεπήνη
goes on to the external demonstration of it,
ὅτε λαβροτατον χεει ὑδωρ
. [
v. 385
]
326
So, too,
Od. Τ. v. 83
.
Μη πως τοι δεσποινα κοτεσσάμενη ΧΑΛΕΠΗΝΗ
— which, in vulgar language, would be fairly rendered, "lest your mistress should be angry, and scold."
Thus, again,
Il. Ο. 256
, of
Jupiter:
ὁ δ᾽ ἐπεγρομενος ΧΑΛΕΠΑΙΝΕ ΡΙΠΤΑΖΩΝ ΚΑΤΑ ΔΩΜΑ ΘΕΟΥΣ.
In the very passage adduced to exemplify the transitive use of this verb,
Il. Τ. 183
, it appears to have the same sense: for the words,
ὅτε τις προτερου χαλεπηνη
, allude to
Agamemnon’s own words,
Il. Β. 378
.
Και γαρ ἐγων Αχιλευς τε μαχεσσαμεθ᾽, εἵνεκα κουρης, Αντιβίοις ΕΠΕΕΣΣΙΝ· ἐγω δ᾽ ΗΡΧΟΝ ΧΑΛΕΠΑΙΝΩΝ.
Χαλεπαινειν
is here, I think, put as synonymous with
μαχεσθαι ἔπεεσσιν
.
Agamemnon confesses, that he himself gave the first verbal provocation — alluding, I think, to his speech, v. 131, where he first hints at the seizure of
Briseis. For though
Achilles speaks, indeed, somewhat roughly to the king in the preceding speech, yet his wrath cannot properly be said to commence before the subsequent speech,
Ω μοι, ἀναιδείην
, &c. [
v. 149
.]
I shall add only an instance or two more. In the
first book of Plato’s Repub.
Socrates says to
Thrasymachus,
ἐλεεισθαι οὖν ἡμας πολυ μαλλον εικός ἐστι παρ᾽ ὑμων των δεινων, ἢ ΧΑΛΕΠΑΙΝΕΣΘΑΙ
— i. e. "we deserve rather to be pitied by you wise men, than to be scolded at." In the passage quoted NOTE 22, p. 188,
Plato says of a dog,
ὃν μεν ἂν ἴδῃ ἀγνωτα, ΧΑΛΕΠΑΙΝΕΙ· — ὃν δ᾽ ἂν γνωριμον, ΑΣΠΑΖΕΤΑΙ
: "fawns on those he knows, and barks at strangers." In the
Memorabilia of
Xenophon,
II. 2
, we have —
Αισθομενος δε ποτε Λαμπροκλεα, τον πρεσβύτατον υἱον ἑαυτου, προς την μητερα ΧΑΛΕΠΑΙΝΟΝΤΑ
: i.e. "when he had heard him speaking angrily to his mother." It seems, then, that the passage will fairly admit of the meaning I have proposed, And whether that meaning would
not be more to
Aristotle’s purpose, than the other, I willingly submit to the reader’s consideration. For why recommend it to the Poet to help his imagination by action, when he composes? — plainly, for the sake of the effect of this method upon his poetry; that his expression of passion may have more of truth and nature; that his characters may
χειμαινειν
, or
χαλεπαινειν
,
ἀληθινωτατα
.
327
Now it seems more consonant to this purpose, that the words which follow as the reason of the advice, should refer to this immediate effect upon the Poet’s work, which is the object of the advice, than to the more remote and implied effect of the work upon the spectator. It seems, indeed, to have been this reference to the audience, in the usual way of understanding the passage, that led
Madius into the mistake of supposing this precept intended, not for the Poet, but for the Player.
Such are my objections to the sense hitherto given to this passage, and my reasons for thinking, that its meaning may have been mistaken. I abandon them, without reserve, to the judgment of the learned reader: in my own, it is impossible for me to confide, when I reflect, that the whole band of commentators, who have preceded me, have acquiesced, without doubt or scruple, in that interpretation which to me appears so unsatisfactory.
139.
mvp-aristotle-comment-139
NOTE 139. p. 98.
17.4
GREAT NATURAL QUICKNESS OF PARTS
Εὐφυὲς ἡ ποιητική ἐστιν. Εὐφυΐα—ΟΞΥΤΗΣ.
Hefychius
. See also
Casaub. upon Athenaeus, p. 454
, and
Suidas
, voc.
Εὐφυᾶ
, and
Εὐφυΐα
, where the passage he quotes from
Alex. Aphrod.
shews what was the common idea of
εὐφυΐα
, though its propriety is disputed. The
εὐφυεῖς
were generally understood to be
ὁι ῥᾳδίως μανθάνοντες, ὁμοἰως δὲ ἔχοντες πρὸς πάντα τὰ μαθήματα
, &c. The passage seems to allude to
Ethic. Nicom. III. 5. p. 113. ed. Wilk.
No epithet can be more exactly adapted to the
εὐφυής
, than that of
εὔπλαστος
, which follows; a man of quick, mimetic parts, who can turn himself, as we say, to every thing with equal facility, and mould himself, without effort, to every form. But the word had considerable latitude, and would have been applied by the antients, to the genius of a Shakspeare, the talents of a Foote, or the docility of a school-boy
328
.
140.
mvp-aristotle-comment-140
NOTE 140. p. 98.
17.4
OR, AN ENTHUSIASM ALLIED TO MADNESS
μανικοῦ.
— My translation here will, I fear, be thought too paraphrastical. But this is one among many passages, that have occurred, where I have found it impossible to give, at the same time, word for word, and idea for idea. This, indeed, is the great misfortune of translation; for what
Mr. Harris
has observed is too true, that
"much of the force of the original will necessarily be lost in the translation, where single words in one language cannot be found corresponding to single words in the other."
The word,
μανικοῦ
, wanted no explanation to Greek readers, to whom, from the writings of Plato, in particular, it was familiar to consider enthusiasm of every kind, as a species of madness
329
. They would understand no more, from Aristotle's expression, than that comparative insanity which Cicero has so exactly expressed:—
"Poetam bonum neminem sine inflammatione animorum existere posse, et sine quodam afflatu quasi furoris."
— But what can a mere modern reader think, when he is told, in Dacier's translation, that, to succeed in Poetry,
"il faut avoir un genie excellent, ou etre FURIEUX?"
Nor could I, without danger of confounding the philosopher's distinction, have rendered
εὐφυΐα
by the single word
genius; which, as we usually apply it to the fine arts, implies much of that very warmth, and illusive power, of imagination, that
"inflammatio animorum"
which Aristotle meant to express by the other word,
μανικοῦ
.
I must not omit, that this whole passage receives considerable illustration from another, in the
Problems
, pointed out by Mr. Winstanley in his edition, p. 292
330
. If Aristotle had given any instance of the
μανικοῦ
among the Tragic Poets, it would, in all probability, have been Æschylus. It is pleasant to observe the appearance which the wild invention and ferocious sublimity of his PROMETHEUS, had to the eye of a French critic, of admirable good sense, indeed, but,
καρδίᾳ νήφοντος
.
"Je crois,"
says Fontenelle,
"qu' Æschile etoit UNE MANIERE DE FOU, qui avoit l'imagination trés-vive, et pas trop reglée."
331
He would probably have said much the same of Shakspeare. The charge certainly cannot be retorted upon the French Tragic writers. It is related of the unfortunate Nat Lee, that, when he was in Bedlam, somebody had the inhumanity to tell him, it was a very easy thing to write like a madman. "No," replied the Poet, "it is not an easy thing to write like a madman; but it is a very easy thing to write like a fool." I believe these two things are almost equally difficult to our ingenious neighbours. It would be hard to detect Racine writing like a fool. But I confess I never read him without wishing he had written a little more like a madman.
We must allow him much merit;—but he never "rolled his eye" in the "fine phrensy" of the Poet; he knew little of "the tricks" of "strong imagination." The character given of him by Lord Kaims appears to me perfectly exact and just; that
"he is always sensible, generally correct, never falls low, maintains a moderate degree of dignity without reaching the sublime, paints delicately the tender passions, but is a stranger to the genuine language of enthusiastic or fervid passion."
332
I have often wondered, what it was that could attach Mr. Gray so strongly to a Poet whose genius was so little analogous to his own
333
. I must confess I cannot, even in the dramatic fragment given us by Mr. Mason, discover any other resemblance to Racine, than in the length of the speeches. Its fault, indeed, is Racine's; its beauties are, surely, of a higher order. What pity, that a work of genius, should have been smothered in its birth, by a little cold and trifling criticism!— We have, indeed, been told, that
"it was certainly no loss to the English stage, that Agrippina was never finished:"
but we have been told it by the same critic who has pronounced, also, that the BARD of Gray, only "endeavours at sublimity;" who saw in the juvenile Poems of Milton "no promise of Paradise Lost;" and who has admitted, with seeming complacence, into the catalogue of English POETS, such names as Blackmore, Yalden, and Pomfret—
"Alcandrumque Haliumque Noemonaque Prytanimque!"
141.
mvp-aristotle-comment-141
NOTE 141. p. 98.
17.5
WHEN THE POET INVENTS A SUBJECT
Here is a confusion of various readings, none of them, I think, free from suspicion. How the sense given to the passage by Victorius, and almost all the commentators, is fairly to be obtained from any of them, I confess, I never could see. I follow the common, and, in my opinion, the least suspicious, reading—
τούς τε λόγους τοὺς πεποιημένους
—. And I understand Aristotle to speak of subjects, either wholly invented by the Poet, like the
Anthos of Agatho, or, having only some very slight and general foundation in history or tradition.—
Λόγος
—the general story, or argument. (
Λόγος — Η ΤΟΥ ΔΡΑΜΑΤΟΣ ΥΠΟΘΕΣΙΣ.
Hefychius
.)—
ΚΑΙ αὐτὸν ποιεῖν
, because, I suppose, such arguments were commonly drawn up by others, probably in the
Διδασκαλίαι
, and, perhaps, prefixed to the copies of the play. But here, Aristotle—
"poetam etiam ipsum hoc facere jubet, quod novum erat, et inusitatum:"
—as the force of
ΚΑΙ ΑΥΤΟΝ
seems rightly explained by Victorius
334
.
142.
mvp-aristotle-comment-142
NOTE 142. p. 99.
17.7
WHEN HE HAS GIVEN NAMES TO HIS CHARACTERS
This seems to shew plainly, that by
λόγους πεποιημένους
the critic means only such subjects as were of the Poet's own invention
335
. For he says—first, form a general sketch of your fable; then, give names to your characters. This manifestly implies, that the names were not already fixed by history or tradition, but were at the Poet's choice. To avoid this difficulty, the Abbé Batteux translates,
"on remet les noms."
But this, certainly, is not what Aristotle says; and it is too trifling, surely, to be what he means
336
. If the names are given by the particular history which the Poet follows, what purpose will it answer to omit them in his plan?—They will certainly be in his mind; they may as well be upon his paper. In short, the method here recommended by Aristotle seems perfectly absurd and nugatory, upon any other supposition than that of a story, either wholly invented by the Poet, or, of which, at least, he owes only some slight hint to fact, and real life. In this case, and in this only, it is, that the subject first presents itself to the Poet's mind in a general and abstracted view, which he afterwards circumstantiates by time, place, and names, and fills up by the detail of particular episodes and scenes.
That this is the meaning, will appear, I think, still more clearly from the 9th chapter, with which this passage should be compared. What is here said of the method to be pursued by
Tragic Poets, answers exactly to what is there said of the Comic:
συστήσαντες γὰρ τὸν μῦθον διὰ τῶν εἰκότων, ΟΥΤΩ ΤΑ ΤΥΧΟΝΤΑ ΟΝΟΜΑΤΑ ΕΠΙΤΙΘΕΑΣΙ
337
;—with this difference, indeed, that the Comic writer may give whatever names he pleases; while the Tragic generally adopts historical names, even when his subject is feigned. Yet Aristotle, there, not only allows that Tragedy, as well as Comedy, may be all invention, both plot and names, but even says, that it would be "ridiculous" to think otherwise:
γελοῖον τοῦτο ζητεῖν
. And he immediately adds, that it is the invention or making of his fable, (not of his verse only,) that truly constitutes the Poet.
143.
mvp-aristotle-comment-143
NOTE 143. p. 99.
17.8
THAT THE EPISODES BELONG PROPERLY TO THE SUBJECT
. See NOTE 37. Here are two instances given by Aristotle of what he means by
ἐπεισόδια
in dramatic Poetry. They confirm, I think, what was said in that note. That Orestes should be taken, by some means or other, and should, by some means or other, be saved, were essential parts of the Poet's fable. These were not episodes, in Aristotle's view; for he expressly includes them both in that general sketch of the story, which is previous to the intertexture of the episodes:
ἐλθὼν δὲ καὶ ΛΗΦΘΕΙΣ
—and,
ἐντεῦθεν δὲ ἡ ΣΩΤΗΡΙΑ
.
The episodes are the circumstances by which the Poet chose to effect this capture, and this escape; i.e. the madness of Orestes, and the ablution of the statue; or rather, these facts drawn out into some particularity of descriptive narration, so as to form distinct, though subordinate, parts of the action; for this, perhaps, made a part of Aristotle's idea of
ἐπεισόδιον
.—And the
examples here given seem to confirm this. See the
Iphig. in Tauris, v. 260, to 340. v. 1153, &c.
And, particularly, the narration of the
ἀγγέλου
, v. 1327, &c. From the very observation, that these episodes should be properly related to the subject, and from what he adds of the difference of dramatic and epic episodes in point of length, it clearly appears, that, as I observed in the note referred to, the word is not applied to Tragedy in a different sense from that in which it is applied to the Epic Poem
338
.
144.
mvp-aristotle-comment-144
NOTE 144. p. 99.
17.9
BUT IN THE EPIC THEY ARE THE MEANS OF DRAWING OUT THE POEM TO ITS PROPER LENGTH
Ἡ δ' ἐποποιΐα τούτοις μηκύνεται.
—Compare cap. xxiv.
Ἔχει δὲ πρὸς τὸ ἐπεκτείνεσθαι, κ. τ. ἀλ.
—to,
ἐπεισοδίοις.
145.
mvp-aristotle-comment-145
NOTE 145. p. 99.
17.10
THE GENERAL STORY OF THE ODYSSEY—LIES IN A SMALL COMPASS
Μικρός
, (instead of
μακρός
,) has now the support of a manuscript. See,
ed. Ox. 1780
, with the learned editor of which I perfectly agree.
Λόγος
is plainly used here in the same sense as before, for the general argument, or summary, of the Poem: whereas, if we read
μακρός
, it can mean only the entire story at full length, with all its episodes. Farther; the epitome of the Odyssey which
follows, is evidently the exemplification of the preceding assertion, that the story of the Odyssey, stripped of its episodes, is very short.
Homer himself has given us a still more general outline of the Poem in two lines and a half;
—σύνοψιν πάσης τῆς Ὀδυσσείας
, as the scholiast has observed upon it:
Φῆν, κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντ', ὀλέσαντ' ἀπὸ πάντας ἑταίρους, Ἄγνωστον πάντεσσιν, ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ, Οἴκαδ' ἐλεύσεσθαι.
Od. B. 174.
—where,
ὀλέσαντ' ἀπὸ πάντας ἑταίρους
, is equivalent to Aristotle's
μόνου ὄντος
.
146.
mvp-aristotle-comment-146
NOTE 146. p. 99.
17.10
PERSECUTED BY NEPTUNE
ΠΑΡΑΦΥΛΑΤΤΟΜΕΝΟΥ ὑπὸ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος
—The same idea is thus expressed by Virgil:
nec Teucris addita Juno Usquam aberit.
Æn. VI. 90.
—upon which passage the reader will find an excellent and useful note in the best of all editions of this Poet, that of Heyne. Horace comes still nearer to the word
παραφυλάττεσθαι
:
Incontinentis nec Tityi jecur Relinquit ales, nequitiæ ADDITUS CUSTOS.
Lib. III. Ode iv.
147.
mvp-aristotle-comment-147
NOTE 147. p. 99.
17.10
AND MAKING HIMSELF KNOWN TO SOME OF HIS FAMILY
Ἀναγνωρίσας τινάς, αὐτοῖς ἐπιθεμενΘ-.
This is all very strange, and, probably, very corrupt; as may appear, merely from the awkward and cacophonous repetition of the pronoun—
ΑΥΤΟΣ ἀφικνεῖται ---- ΑΥΤΟΙΣ ἐπιθέμενος, ΑΥΤΟΣ μὲν ἐσώθη.
And what is,
ἀναγνωρίσας τινάς
?—Certainly, not what one expects. Ulysses, we know, was discovered by the nurse, and discovered himself to Eumæus, and the herdsman, and to Telemachus; but I do not recollect that he discovers any one. Castelvetro saw this; and he says, that
οἰκείων
is to be understood; and that the signification of the word
ἀναγνωρίσας
here must be observed, which is, not that Ulysses discovered any of his friends, but that he made himself known to them. But we have no authority, that I know of, for this use of
ἀναγνωρίζειν
with an accusative case. Piccolomini, too, understands this passage as Castelvetro did—
"datofi à conoscere ad alcuni."
And the Abbé Batteux—
"se fait reconnoitre,"
&c.
But what, again, is,
αὐτοῖς ἐπιθέμενος
?—Does
αὐτοῖς
refer to the friends, or to the enemies, of Ulysses?—Is
ἐπιθέμενος
, deceiving, imposing on, as it is rendered by Victorius, and others after him, or, as others understand it, attacking? for it will bear either of these senses. I have preferred the latter as most obvious, and, on the whole, most to the purpose.
Ἐπιτιθέμενοι
is used by Aristotle in this sense,
Rhet. II. 5
. It generally, I believe, implies an attack more or less insidious, such as that of Ulysses upon the suitors. The scholiast upon
Homer, Od. Υ. 156
, observes, that a day of
festivity was made choice of, as furnishing a favourable opportunity of attacking the suitors:
ἵνα τῶν ἀνδρῶν περὶ τὴν ἑορτὴν καταγινομένων, εὔκαιρον ἔχῃ τὸ ΕΠΙΤΙΘΕΣΘΑΙ ΤΟΙΣ ΜΝΗΣΤΗΡΣΙ.
