NARRATION, in oratory, poetry, and history, a recital or rehearsal of a fact as it happened, or as it is supposed to have happened. See ORATORY, No 26. 123. Concerning NARRATION and Description we have the following rules and observations in the Elements of Criticism. 1. The first rule is, That in history the reflections ought to be chaste and solid; for while the mind is intent upon truth, it is little disposed to the operation of the imagination. Strada's Belgic history is full of poetical images, which being discordant with the subject, are unpleasant; and they have a still worse effect by giving an air of fiction to a genuine history. Such flowers ought to be scattered with a sparing hand, even in epic poetry; and at no rate are they proper till the reader be warmed, and by an enlivened imagination be prepared to relish them: in that state of mind, they are agreeable; but while we are sedate and attentive to an historical chain of facts, we reject with disdain every fiction. 2. Vida, following Horace, recommends a modest commencement of an epic poem; giving for a reason that the writer ought to husband his fire. Besides bold thoughts and figures are never relished till the mind be heated and thoroughly engaged, which is not the reader's case at the commencement. Homer introduces not a single simile in the first book of the Iliad, nor in the first book of the Odyssey. On the other hand, Shakespeare begins one of his plays with a sentiment too bold for the most heated imagination: Bedford. Hung be the heav'n's with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states,Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,And with them scourge the bad revolting stars,That have consented unto Henry's death!Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. First part Henry VI. The passage with which Strada begins his history, is too poetical for a subject of that kind; and at any rate too high for the beginning of a grave performance. 3. A third rule or observation is, That where the subject is intended for entertainment solely, not for instruction, a thing ought to be described as it appears, not as it is in reality. In running, for example, the impulse upon the ground is proportioned in some degree to the celerity of motion; though in appearance it is otherwise, for a person in swift motion seems to skim the ground, and scarcely to touch it. Virgil, with great taste, describes quick running according to appearance; and raises an image far more lively than by adhering scrupulously to truth: Hos super advenit Volscan de gente Camilla,Agmen agens equitum, et florentes vere catervas,Bellatrix: non illa colo calathive MinervaeFemineas assuetas manus; sed praelia virgoDura pati curruque pedum praevertere ventos.Illa vel intactae segetis per summa volaretGramina, nec teneras cursu læssisset aristas:Vel mare per medium, fluctu suspensa tumentis,Ferret iter, celeres nec tingeret aequore plantas. Aeneid. vii. 803. 4. In narration as well as in description, objects ought to be painted so accurately as to form in the mind of the reader distinct and lively images. Every useless circumstance ought indeed to be suppressed, because every such circumstance loads the narration; but if a circumstance be necessary, however slight, it cannot be described too minutely. The force of language consists in raising complete images, which have the effect to transport the reader as by magic into the very place of the important action, and to convert him as it were into a spectator, beholding every thing that passes. The narrative in an epic poem ought to rival a picture in the liveliness and accuracy of its representations: no circumstance must be omitted that tends to make a complete image; because an imperfect image, as well as any other imperfect conception, is cold and uninteresting. We shall illustrate this rule by several examples, giving the first place to a beautiful passage from Virgil: Qualis populea moerens Philomela sub umbrâAmillos queritur factus, quos durus aratorObservans nido implumes detrahit. Georg. lib. iv. 511. The poplar, ploughman, and unshod young, though not essential in the description, tend to make a complete image, and upon that account are an embellishment. Again: Hic viridem Aeneas frondenti ex ilice metamConstituit, signum nautis. Aeneid. v. 129. Horace addressing to Fortune: Te pauper ambit sollicita preceRuris colonus: te dominam sequor,Quicumque Bithynâ laceffitCarpadium pelagus carinâ. Carm. lib. i. ode 35. — Illum ex moenibus hosticisMatrona bellantis tyranniProspectens, et adulta virgo,Suspires: Eheu, ne rudis agminumSponsus laceffit regius asperumTactu leonem, quem cruentaPer medias rapit ira cedes. Carm. lib. iii. ode 2. Shakespeare says, "You may as well go about to turn the sun to ice by fanning in his face with a peacock's feather." The peacock's feather, not to mention the beauty of the object, completes the image: an accurate image cannot be formed of that fanciful operation, without conceiving a particular feather; and one is at a loss when this is neglected in the description. Again, "The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse, as they would have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen or twenty litters." Old Lady. You would not be a queen? Anne. No, not for all the riches under heaven. Old Lady. 'Tis strange: a threepence bow'd would hire me, old as I am, to queen it. Henry VIII. act. ii. sc. 5. In the following passage, the action, with all its materials Narration. al circumstances, is represented so much to the life, that it would scarce appear more distinct to a real spectator; and it is the manner of description that contributes greatly to the sublimity of the passage— He spake; and, to confirm his words, out flewMillions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighsOf mighty cherubim; the sudden blazeFar round illumin'd hell: highly they rag'dAgainst the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms,Clash'd on their sounding shields the din of war,Hurling defiance toward the vault of heav'n.