‘Surely,’ said Mr. Feathernest one evening, ‘you will not maintain that Chevy Chase is a finer poem than Paradise Lost?’ _Mr. Derrydown._ I do not know what you mean by a fine poem; but I will maintain that it gives a much deeper insight into the truth of things. _Mr. Feathernest._ I do not know what you mean by the truth of things. _The Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub._ Define, gentlemen, define; let the one explain what he means by a fine poem, and the other what he means by the truth of things. _Mr. Feathernest._ A fine poem is a luminous development of the complicated machinery of action and passion, exalted by sublimity, softened by pathos, irradiated with scenes of magnificence, figures of loveliness, and characters of energy, and harmonised with infinite variety of melodious combination. _Lord Anophel Achthar._ Admirable! _Miss Danaretta Contantina Pinmoney._ Admirable, indeed, my lord! (_With a sweet smile at his Lordship, which unluckily missed fire._) _The Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub._ Now, sir, for the truth of things. _Mr. O’Scarum._ Troth, sir, that is the last point about which I should expect a gentleman of your cloth to be very solicitous. _The Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub._ I must say, sir, that is a very uncalled-for and very illiberal observation. _Mr. O’Scarum._ Your coat is your protection, sir. _The Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub._ I will appeal to his lordship if—— _Mr. O’Scarum._ I shall be glad to know his lordship’s opinion. _Lord Anophel Achthar._ Really, sir, I have no opinion on the subject. _Mr. O’Scarum._ I am sorry for it, my lord. _Mr. Derrydown._ The truth of things is nothing more than an exact view of the necessary relations between object and subject, in all the modes of reflection and sentiment which constitute the reciprocities of human association. _The Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub._ I must confess I do not exactly comprehend—— _Mr. Derrydown._ I will illustrate. You all know the ballad of Old Robin Gray. Young Jamie loved me well, and ask’d me for his bride; But saving a crown, he had nothing else beside. To make the crown a pound my Jamie went to sea, And the crown and the pound they were both for me. He had not been gone a twelvemonth and a day, When my father broke his arm, and our cow was stolen away; My mother she fell sick, and Jamie at the sea, And old Robin Gray came a-courting to me. In consequence whereof, as you all very well know, old Robin being rich, the damsel married the aforesaid old Robin. _The Rev. Mr. Grovelgrub._ In the heterodox kirk of the north? _Mr. Derrydown._ Precisely. Now, in this short space, you have a more profound view than the deepest metaphysical treatise or the most elaborate history can give you of the counteracting power of opposite affections, the conflict of duties and inclinations, the omnipotence of interest, tried by the test of extremity, and the supreme and irresistible dominion of universal moral necessity.