interest as the nature of the action requires; as Voltaire has proved in
the single combat of Aumale and Turenne in the Henriad. Had he managed his
general descriptions and the other parts of the conduct of his poem as
well, he would have made it a far more interesting work than he has.
However, since our single combats must be insignificant in their
consequences, not deciding any thing as to the result of the battle,
it would be inconvenient and misplaced to make much use of them in our
descriptions. And here lies our disadvantage, compared with the ancients.

But in a general engagement, the shock of modern armies is, beyond
comparison, more magnificent, more sonorous and more discoloring to the
face of nature, than the ancient could have been; and is consequently
susceptible of more pomp and variety of description. Our heaven and earth
are not only shaken and tormented with greater noise, but filled and
suffocated with fire and smoke. If Homer, with his Grecian tongue and all
its dialects, had had the battle of Blenheim to describe, the world would
have possessed a picture and a piece of music which now it will never
possess. The description would have astonished all ages, and enriched every
language into which it might have been translated.

With regard to naval battles the moderns have altogether the advantage. But
there has been no naval battle described in modern poetry; neither is there
any remaining to us from the ancients, except that in the bay of Marseilles
by Lucan, and that near Syracuse by Silius. It would seem strange indeed
that Homer, whose wonderful powers of fiction were not embarrassed by
historical realities, and who in other respects is so insatiable of
variety, did not introduce a sea fight either in the defence of Troy, or
in the disastrous voyages of Ulysses. But the want of this in Homer's two
poems amounts almost to a proof that in his time the nations had not yet
adopted any method of fighting at sea; so that the poet could have no such