The Enquirer on Verse and Poetry
[William Enfield] The Enquirer, No. VI. Monthly Magazine 2 (July 1796), 453-456.
William Enfield (1741-1797) published a series of articles in the Monthly Magazine under the name of The Enquirer. Enfield, who was a Presbyterian minister, had earlier taught at the dissenting academy at Warrington (1770-83) and published several educational books, notably The Speaker (1774) and Institutes of Natural Philosophy (1785). Enfield's article, reproduced in full below, appears to have contributed to Wordsworth's thinking in his Preface to Lyrical Ballads. Another Enquirer article on sensibility is available on the CD.
QUESTION: Is Verse essential to Poetry?
Let me, for once, presume t' instruct the times,
To know the poet from the man of rhimes. Pope.
["The First Epistle of the Second Book of Horace, Imitated," 340-41]
In this age of bold examination, in which high pretensions of every kind are, without scruple, brought to the touchstone of reason, it may not be thought presumptuous to enquire, whether that spirit of monopoly, which has proved so injurious in ecclesiastical and civil society, has not also found its way into the republic of letters. There is, perhaps, some reason to assert, that an arrogant assumption of this kind has been made in favour of poets. That ambitious race, not satisfied with holding the almost undisputed possession of the first division in the ranks of literary merit, have, by the help of that magical wand which they know so well how to use, conjured up a wall of separation between themselves and other writers. Fancying the inhabitants of this consecrated inclosure a privileged order, they have been accustomed to look down, with a kind of senatorial haughtiness, upon the prose-men, who inhabit the common of letters, as a vulgar, plebeian herd. Without fear of offending the god Terminus, I shall, in this paper, take leave to examine, whether this wall of separation ought to remain? -- whether the exclusive appropriation of the term poetry to verse, has any solid foundation?
It affords a tolerable presumption in favour of the opinion that verse is not essential to poetry, that, among the numerous definitions given of this art by critics, not one is to be found, which distinctly marks the boundaries between poetry and prose, or suggests any reason for confining the productions of the muses within the inclosure of measured lines.
Aristotle makes the essence of poetry to consist in imitation: at the beginning of his poetics, he describes music, dancing, and poetry, as imitative arts. After the Stagyrite, Horace requires his poet to make his language a copy of life:
--------------- respicere exemplar vit.*
*contemplate the example of life [ars poetica (The Art of Poetry), 317]
Among modern critics, Vossius defines poetry to be the art of representing actions in metre: Batteaux, in his Belles Lettres, calls poetry the imitation of elegant nature; and Trapp, in his Lectures on Poetry, gives, upon the same principle, this laboured definition: "Poetry is the art of imitating or illustrating, in metrical numbers, every being in nature, and every object of the imagination, for the delight and improvement of mankind." Without dwelling upon the obvious objection to this definition, that the term imitation is improperly used to express the description of objects by arbitrary signs, which exhibit no copy of nature; if the definition be admitted, it must evidently comprehend all verbal delineations of nature, whether in verse or prose. A prose comedy is at least as perfect an imitation of nature as a tragedy in verse; and a well written novel is as accurate a copy of nature as an epic poem.
Other critics have chosen to derive their definition of poetry from its end; though they have been by no means agreed, whether that end be principally to instruct or to please. Racine, and others, have held, that the primary object of poetry is instruction; and in support of this opinion they have remarked, that, in ancient times, poetry was employed to perform the office of an auxiliary to religion and virtue. A modern critic, of great refinement in classical taste, but too deeply imbued with the subtilty of the Warburtonian school, has, on the contrary, taken much pains to prove that the first object of poetry is to please, and that this is the only kind of literary composition in which use is subordinate to pleasure; and he has hence deduced a definition of poetry, considered as an art, describing it to be: "Such a way, or method, of treating a subject, as is found most pleasing and delightful to us." If either of these definitions be adopted, it is evident that they make no other difference between poetry and prose, than in the degree of power which the former may be supposed to possess above the latter, of conveying instruction, or affording pleasure. Towards the purpose of instruction, verse can contribute nothing, except as an aid to the memory; for that of conveying pleasure it will be allowed to possess peculiar, but certainly not exclusive advantage.
A definition of poetry, similar to that of bishop Hurd, is given by Johnson. "Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth, by calling imagination to the help of reason." "The true poet," he adds, "enables you to feel what you remember to have felt before, and to feel it with a great increase of sensibility: you recognize a familiar image, but meet it again amplified and expanded, embellished with beauty, and enlarged with majesty." This is an admirable description of the power of fine writing; but it applies as truly to works of fancy and sentiment in prose as in verse.
Those writers appear to have approached nearest to a true definition of poetry, who have understood it to be the immediate offspring of a vigorous imagination and quick sensibility, and have called it the language of fancy and passion. This appears to have been the idea entertained of poetry by Plato, and to have furnished the chief ground of his exclusion of poets from his republic. Cicero formed the same idea of poetry; and said, that "while all other accomplishments must be acquired by instruction and precept, the poet derives sufficient resources from himself, from the native vigour of his mind, and a certain divine impulse." This notion is adopted, among the moderns, by Dr. Blair. From this idea of poetry arise the terms poetic embusiosin, and poetic inspiration, and the application of the title Vates, both to the poet and the prophet. Little credit is, indeed, given to the modern poet's invocation of the Muses; and we now seldom read of Mount Parnassus, or the waters of Hippocrene: but poets are still considered as men inspired by the power of imagination, and pouring forth the strong language of fancy and feeling. It, however, by no means necessarily follows, that they must speak and write verses. In the rude state of nature, before the art of versification was known, men felt strong passions, and expressed them strongly. Their language would be bold and figurative; it would be vehement and abrupt: sometimes, under the impulse of the gentle and the tender, or the gay and joyous passions, it would flow in a kind of wild and unfettered melody; for, under such impressions, melody is natural to man. These first expressions of passion and sentiment would be poetry, but they would not assume the regular form of verse. So artificial a production must have been the result of innumerable efforts, and could not attain any high degree of perfection but in a period of great refinement. "No one can doubt," says Quintilian, "that poetry, at first, flowed without art; and that it was reduced to feet after the ear had discovered, by frequent observation, the regular intervals of melodious sounds."
If the several excellencies of poetry be distinctly examined, it will be found that, except measured hamony, none of these are excluded from prose.
We have the authority of Horace and of Johnson, and a still higher authority, that of common sense, for asserting, that truth and nature are the basis of all literary merit: and it will not be pretended, that truth and nature are the exclusive possession of the versifier. The stores of knowledge and sentiment are equally open to the man of sense and information, or to the man of feeling and fancy, whether he expresses his conceptions in verse or in prose. He who is capable of conceiving a noble, a tender, or an ingenious sentiment, may be a sublime, a pathetic, or a witty writer, though he should not choose to give his ideas a metrical dress. Milton would have written a magnificent fable concerning the loss of Paradise, and Butler a witty tale of Hudibras, had they only expressed their conceptions in prose.
If it be one of the offices of poetry, to exhibit exact and lively pictures of men and things; if it be the province of the poet, to observe, with a discriminating eye, the objects which are best adapted to excite emotions, and to represent them with such distinctness and force as to make a vivid impression upon the reader's fancy; what reason can be given, why these effects may not be produced in prose? The same objects, on either supposition, lie before the eye or imagination of the writer; he has access to the same magazine of words; and he has equal scope for the exercise of judgment and taste in the arrangement of his materials.
If, beyond the simple description of real objects, it be understood to be the peculiar privilege of the poet to give ideal existence to objects, and scenes of which no archetype is found in nature; if we be told, that fiction is the hallowed temple of poetry, and reminded of "the poet's eye in a fine phrenzy rolling," &c. [Midsummer Night's Dream, V.i.12] this character may be ascribed to poetry in its full extent, without confining it within the narrow inclosure of metre. By the united aid of memory, and the power of association, to give birth to imaginary beings, to transfer the powers of one being to another, to people any part of the universe with new forms, to call up spectres from the infernal deep, to bring down divinities from the celestial regions, and even to bestow personal existence upon abstract ideas; these wonders, fancy can perform; and the man who possesses, in an uncommon degree, this inventive faculty, has, undoubtedly, the best title to the appellation of poet, according to the original meaning of the term; for he is, in truth, a creator. But this divine power is not the exclusive privilege of those who have acquired the art of measuring out words in regular feet; and introduced, at fixed intervals, similar sounds. The mechanical task of versifying, and the sublime operation of poetic invention, are not so intimately conjoined by nature, as not to admit of an easy separation; and it is an indisputable fact, that fictions of the boldest kind, which have required the highest exertion of genius, have been written in prose as well as in verse.
The character of poetry, which may seem most to require that it be limited to verse, is its appropriate diction. It will be admitted, that metaphorical language, being more impressive than general terms, is best suited to poetry. That excited state of mind, which poetry supposes, naturally prompts a figurative style. But the language of fancy, sentiment, and passion, is not peculiar to verse. Whatever is the natural and proper expression of any conception or feeling in metre or rhyme, is its natural and proper expression in prose. All beyond this is a departure from the true principles of taste. If the artificial diction of modern poetry would be improper, on similar occasions, in prose, it is equally improper in verse. In support of this opinion, the appeal may be made, not only to the general sense of propriety, but to those most perfect models of fine writing, the Greek poets. The language of these great masters is always so consonant to nature, that, thrown out of rhythm, it would become the proper expression of the same sentiment in prose. If modern poetry will seldom bear to be brought to the same taste, it is because the taste of the moderns has been refined to a degree of fastidiousness, which leads them to prefer the meretricious ornaments of art, to the genuine simplicity of nature.
If, in order to establish the opinion, that verse is not essential to poetry, it were required, that examples should be adduced of writings in prose, which possess all the properties of genuine poetry, except its metrical numbers; it would be easy, in treating the subject more at large, to point out many passages sublimely poetical in the prose parts of the Hebrew scriptures; to refer to many dialogues of Plato, replete with elevated conceptions and poetical diction; to call to the reader's recollection Xenophon's Choice of Hercules, the Table of Cebes, the Metamorphosis of Apuleius, with his beautiful Fable of Cupid and Psyche; many of the productions of Lucian's sportive fancy, and satyrical humour, and Cicero's Dream of Scipio, with many passages, truly poetical, from his orations and philosophical writings, as well as from the works of ancient historians, moralists, and critics: nor would it be less easy, among the moderns, to produce a long list of poetical historians, fabulists, and novelists; to refer to the writings of Rabelais, Cervantes, and Sterne; to lay open the rich poetic stores of the English Offian; to recal the amusement which every youthful fancy has received, from the wonderful tales of the Arabian Nights Entertainments; to mention the elegant fictions lately produced by the fertile genius of Wieland, and by other German writers; and lastly, to dwell upon the numberless beauties of Fenelon's Telemachus, a work which possesses every character of the epic, except versification.
In farther confirmation of the opinion supported in this paper, may be adduced the authority of Horace. He gives the honourable appellation of poet, not to the mere versifier, but to the man who possesses the divine inspiration of genius, and can command a suitable grandeur of expression:
Ingenium cui sit, cui mens divinior, atque os
Magna sonaturum, des nominis hujus honorem.**may you give honour to the name of him who has natural talent, a sharper mind, and a voice about to sound great things. [Horace, Satires 1.4.43-44]
And to prevent misapprehension, he gives an example of a passage from Ennius, in which, when the verse is broken up, that is, when the passage becomes prose, the reader still finds disjecti membra poeta, the limbs of the disjointed poet.
The present discussion is not a mere verbal dispute. Its object is more important, than to introduce a new, or extended use of the term poetry: it is, to detect one of those numerous mistakes in the use of words, which are attended with ill effects. In appropriating the name of poet to the composer of verses, the honours of poetry have been confined to this class of writers; and it has not been sufficiently perceived, that all the essential and most valuable powers of the poet may be found in one, who does not understand, or who is not willing to submit to the mental fatigue of practising, the art of versification. It is not my design to depreciate this art. Though it may not, in these degenerate times, be able to perform all the wonders of Orpheus's lyre, it can still add an irresistible charm to the productions of fancy. Verse is certainly the fairest dress of poetry; and when true genius and correct taste employ it to embellish their productions, the finished piece is deservedly placed in the first class of human productions. But let not the honour due to that divine enchantress, Poesy, whose sublime conceptions fill the fancy, and delight the heart, be bestowed upon the hand-maid, whose humble office consists alone in melodious arrangement. It were as if the mechanical hand, that prepares and mixes the painter's colours, were to steal away the praise from the inventive genius which produced and executed the design. Nor let those whose literary productions are dictated by a ready invention, a glowing fancy, and a feeling heart, and chastised by a sound judgment and correct taste, be refused an honourable station among poets, merely because their works are not cast in the mold of verse. Let the exclusive homage which has hitherto been paid to the first class of poets be dismissed with other superstitions; and let the merit of every literary performance be fairly estimated, not by the comparatively trivial circumstance of having been written in prose or verse, but by the share of judgment, genius, and taste which it discovers.
It obviously follows from the point established in this paper, that the terms poetry and prose are incorrectly opposed to each other. Verse is, properly, the contrary of prose; and because poetry speaks the language of fancy, passion, and sentiment, and philosophy speaks the language of reason, these two terms should be considered as contraries, and writing should be divided, not into poetry and prose, but into poetry and philosophy: -- a division which might answer an useful purpose, by occasionally reminding both poets and philosophers of the propriety of keeping within their respective provinces: poets might learn that their proper office is to amuse rather than to instruct the world, in which, as poets, they have hitherto had little success: and -- which is more important -- philosophers might learn, in instructing mankind, to abandon the idle project of amusing them at the same time, with poetical fancies and fictions.