We might even ask, Would not one really appreciate the poem better without more knowledge than is required for a good understanding of what would otherwise be meaningless? Compare Keats, who delighted in Milton, and yet probably did not know many things that may be found in the annotated editions, and Bentley, who probably knew all there was to know as far as knowledge is concerned, and yet could change "the secret top of Oreb" (i. 7) into "the sacred top." Is not appreciation better than knowledge? We must admit that appreciation without knowledge is better than knowledge without appreciation. But appreciation without knowledge is not so fine, other things being equal, as appreciation which has made the most of knowledge. It is true that knowledge (of this sort) is an easy thing, and appreciation, for most people, is not. So knowledge of a great poem is apt to be commoner than appreciation of it, and held in less esteem. But although knowledge of a great poem is not worth very much considered in itself, yet the right knowledge may be so used as to produce something which is worth a great deal. For if it be not allowed to choke out one's appreciation, to overpower everything else, it may so saturate, so color, so invigorate one's ideas, that one's appreciation becomes a far stronger and finer thing, giving a fuller pleasure in the poem, and a greater admiration for the poet. And in the doubtful war, before he won The Latian realm, and built the destined town; O Muse! the causes and the crimes relate; 3. The Faerie Queene. Book I. Stanzas 1-4. Lo! I, the man whose Muse whilome did maske, For trumpets stern to change mine oaten reeds, Help then, O holy virgin! chief of nine, Of Faerie Knights, and fairest Tanaquill, Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill, O help thou my weak wit, and sharpen my dull tongue! And thou, most dreaded imp of highest Jove, And with thy mother mild come to mine aid; Come, both; and with you bring triumphant Mart, In loves and gentle jollities arrayed, After his murderous spoils and bloody rage allayed. And with them eke, O Goddess heavenly bright! Great Lady of this greatest Isle, whose light Like Phœbus' lamp throughout the world doth shine, And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile, The argument of mine afflicted style: The wish to hear vouchsafe, O dearest dread awhile! 4. Paradise Lost. Book VII. 1–39. Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name The meaning, not the name, I call; for thou Lest, from this flying steed unreined (as once Standing on Earth, not rapt above the pole, On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues, Of that wild rout that tore the Thracian bard 5. Paradise Regained. Book I. 1–17. I, who erewhile the Happy Garden sung And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute, And unrecorded left through many an age: Worthy to have not remained so long unsung. B. Epic Similes. The following similes are, 1 from the Iliad, in the translation of Lang, Leaf, and Myer, and 2 from Matthew Arnold's |