? ??t?? ? ???ea t??

??ata e??e? p??t?

a?t' ep???ta t' ?d??

??t? de t?? ?ad??e??

t?efe?? t? d' a??e? ??t??

p???p???? ?ste pe?a???

???t???. Soph. Trachin.]

[Footnote 69: Of this the reader will find a n.o.ble instance in Pindar's first Pythian Ode, where he employs from the verse beginning ?a?s?f???ta?? d' ad?asea, &c. to the end of the stanza, one of the happiest and most natural ill.u.s.trations that is to be met with either in the works of Pindar, or in those of any Poet whatever. The abrupt address to Phbus, when he applies the metaphor, is peculiarly beautiful.]

It is likewise necessary that the Poet should take care in the higher species of the Ode, to a.s.sign to every object that precise degree of colour, as well as that importance in the arrangement of sentiments which it seems peculiarly to demand. The same images which would be considered as capital strokes in some pieces can be admitted only as secondary beauties in others; and we might call in question both the judgment and the imagination of that Poet who attempts to render a faint ill.u.s.tration adequate to the object, by clothing it with profusion of ornament. A defect likewise either in the choice, or in the disposition, of images, is conspicuous in proportion to the importance of the subject, as well as to the nature of those sentiments with which it stands in more immediate connection. It is therefore the business of the Lyric Poet, who would avoid the censure of competing with inequality, to consider the colouring of which particular ideas are naturally susceptible, and to discriminate properly betwixt sentiments, whose native sublimity requires but little a.s.sistance from the pencil of art, and a train of thought which (that it may correspond to the former) demands the heightening of poetic painting. The astonishing inequalities which we meet with, even in the productions of unquestioned Genius, are originally to be deduced from the carelessness of the Poet who permitted his imagination to be hurried from one object to another, dwelling with pleasure upon a favourite idea, and pa.s.sing slightly over intermediate steps, that he may catch that beauty which fluctuates on the gaze of Expectation.

I shall only observe further on this subject, that nothing is more contrary to the end of Lyric Poetry, than that habit of spinning out a metaphor which a Poet sometimes falls into by indulging the sallies of imagination. This will be obvious, when we reflect that every branch of the Ode is characterised by a peculiar degree of vivacity and even vehemence both of sentiment and expression. It is impossible to preserve this distinguishing character, unless the thoughts are diversified, and the diction is concise. When a metaphor is hunted down (if I may use that expression) and a description overwrought, its force and energy are gradually lessened, the object which was originally new becomes familiar, and the mind is satiated instead of being inflamed.

We must not think that this method of extending an ill.u.s.tration discovers always a defect or sterility of the inventive Faculty. It is, in truth, the consequence of that propensity which we naturally feel to consider a favourite idea in every point of light, and to render its excellence as conspicuous to others as it is to ourselves. By this means sentiments become _superficial_, because the mind is more intent upon their _external dress_, that their _real importance_. They are likewise _thinly scattered through a work_, because each of them receives an higher proportion or ornament than justly belongs to it. We frequently judge of them likewise, in the same manner as a birthday suit is estimated by its purchaser, not by the standard of intrinsic value, but by the opinion of the original proprietor. Thus to superficial readers,

------ _verb.u.m emicuit si forte decorum, Si versus paulo concinnior unus aut alter Injuste totum ducit, venditque poema[70]._

One simile that solitary shines In the dry desart of a thousand lines, Or lengthen'd thought that gleams thro' many a page, Has sanctified whole poems for an age. POPE.

[Footnote 70: Hor. Epist. Lib. II. Epist. 1.]

Custom, my Lord, that sovereign arbiter, from whose decision in literary as well as in civil causes, there frequently lies no appeal, will lead us to consider boldness of transition as a circ.u.mstance which is peculiarly characteristic of the Ode. Lyric Poets have in all ages appropriated to themselves the liberty of indulging imagination in her most irregular excursions; and when a digression is remotely similar to the subject, they are permitted to fall into it at any time by the invariable practice of their Predecessors. Pindar expressly lays claim to this privilege.

???a??? ?a? a?te? ?????

ep' a???t' a???? ?? te e- ??ssa ???e? ?????.[71]

The song that spreads some glorious name Shifts its bold wing from theme to theme; Roves like the bee regardless o'er, And culls the spoils of every flower.

[Footnote 71: Pin. Pyth. Ode X.]

We must indeed acknowledge in general, that when an high degree of spirit and vivacity is required to characterize any species of composition, the Author may be allowed to take greater liberties than we should grant to another, whose subject demanded regularity and connection. Let it however be observed at the same time, that this freedom is often granted, not because the theme indispensibly requires, but because we naturally expect it from the genius of the Writer. We justly suppose, that the Philosopher seldom mistakes his talents so far as to be solicitous of shining in a sphere, for which he must know himself to be wholly disqualified; and from the work of a Poet who addresseth imagination, we look for those marks of wildness and incoherence which discover the extent of that faculty.

I have acknowledged in a former part of this Essay, that the shorter Ode not only admits of bold and spirited transitions, but that these are in many instances necessary to const.i.tute a perfect imitation of nature[72]. This observation however cannot be applied with so much propriety to the other kinds of it, because the transport of pa.s.sion is abrupt, instantaneous, and the mind returns suddenly to the point from which it had digressed. On the contrary, as the pa.s.sions cannot be kept on their full stretch for any considerable time, we expect that in the higher species of Lyric Poetry, the Poet will keep the princ.i.p.al object more immediately in his eye, and that his transitions will never make us lose sight of it so far, as not to recall with ease the intermediate points of connection.

[Footnote 72: Letter I. p. x.x.xiii.]

When this rule is not violated, we can enter with pleasure into the design of the Poet, and consider his work as a whole in which every separate member has its distinct and proper use. Thus, when Pindar is celebrating Aristagoras, we can easily observe that the Poet's oblique encomium on the Father and friends of his Heroe, is introduced with great propriety, as every remark of this kind reflects additional l.u.s.tre on the character of the princ.i.p.al personage[73]. We are even sometimes highly entertained with digressions, which have not so near a relation to the subject of the Ode as the last mentioned circ.u.mstance; because though the immediate design is not going forward, we can still however keep it in view with the same ease, as a traveller can do the public road, from which he willingly makes an excursion to survey the neighbouring country. Thus the n.o.ble panegyric upon the whole people of Rhodes, and the account of their Founder Tlepolemus, which we meet with in the Ode inscribed to Diagoras the Rhodian; these are happy and beautiful embellishments, whose introduction enlivens the whole piece with a proper variety of objects[74].

[Footnote 73: Pin. Nem. Ode XI.]

[Footnote 74: Id. Olym. Ode VII.]

The same principle which induceth us to approve of Poet's transitions in the preceding instances, must (as your Lordship will immediately conceive) lead us to condemn those which are far-fetched, pursued too closely, or foreign to the subject of the poem. This is frequently the consequence of following the track of imagination with implicit compliance, as the Poet without being sensible of his mistake runs into one digression after another, until his work is made up of incoherent ideas; in which, as Horace expresseth it,

velut aegri somnia vanae Finguntur species, ut nec pes, nec caput uni Reddatur formae[75].

This is the character of the Ode to Thrasidaeus the Theban, in which the Poet is insensibly led from one digression to another, until his readers lose sight of the princ.i.p.al subject which is dropped almost as soon as proposed[76].

[Footnote 75: Hor. de Art. Poet.]

[Footnote 76: Pind. Pyth. Ode XI.]

The last circ.u.mstance mentioned as characteristic of the Ode, was a certain picturesque vivacity of description. In this we permit the Lyric Poet to indulge himself with greater freedom than any other, because beauties of this kind are necessary to the end of exciting admiration.

It is the peculiar province of imagination to give that life and expression to the ideas of the mind, by which Nature is most happily and judiciously imitated. By the help of this poetical magic the coldest sentiments become interesting, and the most common occurrences arrest our attention. A man of Genius, instead of laying down a series of dry precepts for the conduct of life, exhibits his sentiments in the most animating manner, by moulding them into symmetry, and superadding the external beauties of drapery and colour[77]. His reader by this expedient is led through an Elysium, in which his Fancy is alternately soothed and transported with a delightful succession of the most agreeable objects, whose combination at last suggests an important moral to be impressed upon the memory. The Ancients appear to have been fully sensible of the advantages of this method of ill.u.s.trating truth, as the works not only of their Poets, but even those of their Philosophers and Historians abound with just and beautiful personifications[78]. Their two allegorical Philosophers, Prodicus and Cebes, carry the matter still further, and inculcate their lessons, by subst.i.tuting in place of cool admonition a variety of personages, who a.s.sume the most dignified character, and address at the same time the imagination, the pa.s.sions, and even the senses of mankind[79]. These Authors consider man as a creature possessed of different, and of limited faculties, whose actions are directed more frequently by the impulse of pa.s.sion, than regulated by the dictates of reason and of truth[80].

[Footnote 77: Thus the reader, who would pay little regard to the person who should forbid him to trust the world too much, will yet be struck with this simple admonition, when it appears in the work of a genius.

Lean not on earth, 'twill pierce thee to the heart; A broken reed at best, but oft' a spear, On its sharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires.

NIGHT THOUGHTS.]

[Footnote 78: Thus Xenophon, the simplest and most perspicuous of Historians, has borrowed many n.o.ble images from Homer; and Plato is often indebted to this Poet, whom yet he banished from his Commonwealth. Cicero in his most serious pieces studies the _diction_, and copies the _manner_ of the Greek Philosopher; and it evidently appears, that Thucydides has taken many a _glowing Metaphor_ from the Odes of Pindar. We might produce many examples of this from their writings, if these would not swell this note to too great a length. The reader of taste may see this subject fully discussed in Mr. Gedde's ingenious Essay on the Composition of the Ancients.]

[Footnote 79: ?e? de t??? ????? s???sta?a?, ?a? t? ?e?e?

s??ape??a?es?a? ??t? a??sta p??? ?at?? te?ee???. ??t? ?a? a?'

e?a??estata ???? ?spe? pa? a?t??? ?????e??? t??? p?att?e????, e???s??? t? p?ep??, ?a? ???sta a?' ?a??a???t? ta ?pe?a?t?a.

Arist. Poet. c. 17.]

[Footnote 80: Thus Cicero tells us. Nec est majus in dicendo, quam ut Orator sic moveatur, ut impetu quodam animi, & perturbatione magis quam concilio regatur. Plura enim multo homines judicant odio, & amore, & cupiditate, &c. quam veritate & praescripto.

De Orat. Lib. II. c. 42.]

It is obvious, that in Lyric Poetry the Author cannot run into this series of methodised allegory, because the subjects of the Ode are real incidents which would be disfigured by the continued action of fict.i.tious personages. His descriptions therefore ought to be concise, diversified, and adapted properly to that train of sentiment which he is employed to ill.u.s.trate. When this is the case, we are highly entertained with frequent personifications, as these are criterions by which we estimate the genius of the Poet.

I need not, my Lord, to suggest on this branch of my subject, that it requires the utmost delicacy to personify inanimate objects so justly, as to render them adapted in every circ.u.mstance to the occasion on which they are introduced. Your Lordship however will permit me to observe, that as the happiest effect is produced upon the mind of the reader by the judicious introduction of an ideal personage; so he is apt to be disgusted in an equal degree, when the conduct of the Poet in this instance is in the smallest measure irregular or defective. When an intellectual idea falls under the cognizance of an external sense, it is immediately surveyed with an accuracy proportioned to its importance, and to the distance at which we suppose it to be placed. We judge of Virtue and Vice, when represented as persons, in the same manner as we judge of men whose appearance is suggested by memory; and we therefore expect that these ideal figures shall be discriminated from each other by their dress, att.i.tudes, features, and behaviour, as much as two real persons of opposite characters always are in the familiar intercourse of ordinary life. In reality we a.s.sign a particular shape, complection, and manner to the creatures of imagination, by the same rule which leads us to ascribe a certain a.s.semblage of features to a person whom we have never seen, upon seeing his character particularly displayed, or upon listening to a minute detail of his actions. Nay, odd as it may appear, it is yet certain, that in many instances our idea of the imaginary person may be more distinct and particular than that of the real one.

Thus we often find that the representation exhibited by Fancy of the figure of an Heroe, whose actions had raised admiration; I say, we find that this representation has been wide of the truth, when we come either to see the original, or a faithful copy of it: but our ideas of imaginary persons are generally so exact, that upon seeing a group of these displayed on a plate, we are capable to give each its proper designation, as soon as we observe it. Thus Anger, Revenge, Despair, Hope, &c. can be distinguished from each other almost as easily when they are copied by the pencil, as when _we feel their influence on our own minds, or make others observe it on our actions_.

From this detail it obviously follows, that as our ideas of imaginary personages are more just and accurate, than those which are excited merely by a particular relation of the actions of real ones; so we will judge with more certainty of the precise colouring which belongs to the former, and of the propriety with which they are introduced, than we can possibly do with regard to the latter. A Painter may deceive us, by throwing into the face of an Heroe, whom we have never seen, particular marks of resolution and fort.i.tude, which form only a part of his character. But we cannot be deceived with regard to the signatures which show the predominancy of these virtues, with whatever degree of justice they may be applied. This observation has equal force, when we refer it to the allegorical personages of the Poet. The least impropriety in the colouring, dress, or arrangement of objects, is immediately perceptible, and we pa.s.s a favourable judgment, when faults of this kind are ascribed to inattention. In short, the imaginary persons who are introduced in a poem, must on all occasions be distinguished by peculiar characters, and the manners attributed to each of them ought to be such as can be applied with no propriety to any other object. Every picture must therefore be, as Pope somewhere has it,

Something whose truth convinc'd at sight we find.

That gives us back the image of the mind.

A little reflection will enable us to discover the reason of this difference betwixt our ideas of allegorical and of real personages.

We are (as I formerly observed) often mistaken in our notions of the latter of these, because the mind cannot receive a sufficient degree of information, concerning the person, to be able to form any perfect judgment of his address or demeanour. Upon hearing, for instance, a recital of the actions of a man who is unknown to us, our idea of him is taken from the pa.s.sion which appears to have predominated in his conduct; but we are not acquainted with numberless little peculiarities which enter into a complicated character, and have their corresponding expressions imprinted on the countenance. Thus when we consider only the martial exploits of the celebrated Duke de Vendome, we have the idea of an Heroe full of spirit and impetuosity; but this idea would be very imperfect as a representation of his character, if we did not know likewise that he was slovenly, voluptuous, effeminate, and profuse[81].

[Footnote 81: Volt. Siec. Louis XIV. c. 21.]

These different ingredients, which enter into the mind of a real agent, ought likewise to be nicely estimated as to the degrees in which they predominate, before we could be properly qualified to judge of their influence on his external appearance. As it is evidently impossible that we can ever be thoroughly apprised of the former, it is therefore obvious that our judgment of the latter must be always imperfect. On the contrary, we are never at a loss to conceive a just idea of one simple expression, because the Original from which the Copy is drawn exists in our own mind. We are likewise naturally taught to distinguish properly the insignia of imaginary creatures. Thus Fear is always known by her _bristled hair_, Admiration by his _erected eyes_, Time has his _scythe_ and his _hour-gla.s.s_, and Fortune (unchangeable in one sense) stands _blind_ on the _globe_, to which she was exalted by Cebes[82].

[Footnote 82: Cebet. Tab.]

I ought, my Lord, to apologize for the length of this Digression on the nature of allegorical Persons; a subject which I have treated more particularly, as I do not remember to have seen it canva.s.sed minutely by any Writer either ancient or modern.

I shall only observe further on this head, that though a Poet is seldom in hazard of being grossly faulty, with respect to the dress and insignia of his personages, yet intemperate imagination will induce him to use this n.o.ble figure too frequently by personifying objects of small comparative importance; or by leaving the simple and natural path, to entangle himself in the labyrinth of Fiction. This is the fault which we have already found to characterise the writings of the first Lyric Poets, from which we should find it an hard task to vindicate their successors, even in the most improved state of ancient learning. Instead of producing examples of this intemperance, which the Greek Theology was peculiarly calculated to indulge, I shall only observe in general, that we are mistaken in thinking that the Genius of a Poet is indicated by the diversified incidents which enter into his Fable. True Genius, even in its most early productions, be discovered rather by _vivid_ and _picturesque descriptions_, than by any circ.u.mstances however extraordinary in the _narration_ of _events_. It is no difficult matter to conceive a series of fict.i.tious incidents, and to connect them together in one story, though it requires judgment to do this in such a manner, as that the whole may have some happy and continued allusion to truth. We can imagine, for instance, with great ease something as impossible as Ariosto's Magician pursuing the man who had taken off his head. But it will be found a much more difficult task, either to throw out one of those strokes of Nature which penetrate the heart, and cleave it with terror and with pity; or to paint Thought in such striking colours, as to render it immediately visible to the eye[83].

[Footnote 83: Upon the principle established here, we may account in some measure for Voltaire's apparently paradoxical a.s.sertion, with regard to the comparative merit of Homer and Ta.s.so. The Italian (says that spirited writer) has more conduct, variety and justness than the Greek. Admitting the truth of this reflection, we might still reply, that the princ.i.p.al merit of the Iliad, considered as the production of Genius, lies in the grandeur of the sentiments, the beauty and sublimity of the ill.u.s.trations, and the _original_ strokes which are wrought into the description of the _princ.i.p.al Actors_. In all these respects we may venture to affirm, that Homer remains without a superior among Authors unaided by Inspiration; and the reader must be left to judge whether or not it is from these criterions that we estimate the Genius of a Poet. Our Author proceeds upon the same principles to compare the Orlando Furioso with the Odyssey, and give a preference to the former. The merit of these works may be ascertained in some measure, by the rules we have already established. We need only to add further on this head, that among many beauties we meet with examples of the turgid and bombast in the work of Ariosto; from which that of the Greek Poet is wholly free. The two first lines of his Poem,

_Le Donne, e Cavalieri, l'arme, gli amore, Le Cortesie l'audaci impresi io canto._

if they do not put one in mind of the Cyclic Writer mentioned by Horace, who begins his Poem with