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it,’ said the King, ‘that saves a world of
trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any. And yet I don’t know,’
he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee, and looking at them
with one eye; ‘I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. “--SAID
I COULD NOT SWIM--” you can’t swim, can you?’ he added, turning to the
Knave.
The Knave shook his head sadly. ‘Do I look like it?’ he said. (Which he
certainly did NOT, being made entirely of cardboard.)
‘All right, so far,’ said the King, a
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a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity. Exact
disposition, just thought, correct elocution, polished numbers, may have
been found in a thousand; but this poetic fire, this "vivida vis animi,"
in a very few. Even in works where all those are imperfect or neglected,
this can overpower criticism, and make us admire even while we disapprove.
Nay, where this appears, though attended with absurdities, it brightens
all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing but its own splendour. This
fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned as through a glass, reflected
from Homer, more shining than fierce, but everywhere equal and constant:
in Lucan and Statius it bursts out in sudden, short, and interrupted
flashes: In Milton it glows like a furnace kept up to an uncommon ardour
by the force of art: in Shakspeare it strikes before we are aware, like an
accidental fire from heaven: but in Homer, and in him only, it burns
everywhere clearly and everywhere irresistibly.
I shall here endeavour to show how this vast invention exerts itself in a
manner superior to that of any poet through all the main constituent parts
of his work: as it is the great and peculiar characteristic which
distinguishes him from all other authors.
This strong and ruling faculty was like a powerful star, which, in the
violence of its course, drew all things within its vortex. It seemed not
enough to have taken in the whole circle of arts, and the whole compass of
nature, to supply his maxims and reflections; all the inward passions and
affections of mankind, to furnish his characters: and all the outward
forms and images of things for his descriptions: but wanting yet an ampler
sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and boundless walk for his
imagination, and created a world for himself in the invention of fable.
That which Aristotle calls "the soul of poetry," was first breathed into
it by Homer, I shall begin with considering him in his part, as it is
naturally the first; and I speak of it both as it means