HUMBLY INSCRIBED
TO THE
b2
MY LORD,
It
is an observation, no doubt, familiar to your Lordship, that Genius is
the offspring of Reason and Imagination properly moderated, and
co-operating with united influence to promote the discovery, or the
illustration of truth. Though it is certain that a separate province is
assigned to each of these faculties, yet it often becomes a matter of
the greatest difficulty to prevent them from making mutual
encroachments, and from leading to extremes which are the more
dangerous, because they are brought on by an imperceptible progression.
—Reason in every mind is an uniform power, and its appearance is
regular, and invariably permanent. When this Faculty therefore
predominates in the sphere of composition, sentiments will follow each
other in connected succession, the arguments employed to prove any point
will be just and forcible; the stability of a work will be principally
considered, and little regard will be payed to its exterior ornament.
Such a work however, though it may be valued by a few for its intrinsic
excellence, yet can never be productive of general improvement, as
attention can only be fixed by entertainment, and entertainment is
incompatible with unvaried uniformity1.
On
the contrary, when Imagination is permitted to bestow the graces of
ornament indiscriminately, we either find in the general that sentiments
are superficial, and thinly scattered through a work, or we are obliged
to search for them beneath a load of superfluous colouring. Such, my
Lord, is the appearance of the superior Faculties of the mind when they
are disunited from each other, or when either of them seems to be
remarkably predominant.
Your
Lordship is too well acquainted with this subject not to have observed,
that in composition, as in common
life, extremes, however pernicious, are not always so distant from each
other, as upon superficial inspection we may be apt to conclude. Thus in
the latter, an obstinate adherence to particular opinions is contracted
by observing the consequences of volatility; indifference ariseth from
despising the softer feelings of tenderness; pride takes its origin from
the disdain of compliance; and the first step to avarice is the desire
of avoiding profusion. Inconveniencies similar to these are the
consequences of temerity in canvassing the subjects of speculation. The
mind of an Author receives an early bias from prepossession, and the
dislike which he conceives to a particular fault precipitates him at
once to the opposite extreme. For this reason perhaps it is, that young
authors who possess some degree of Genius, affect on all occasions a
florid manner2, and clothe their sentiments in the dress of imagery. To
them nothing appears so disgusting as dry and lifeless uniformity; and
instead of pursuing a middle course betwixt the extremes of profusion
and sterility, they are only solicitous to shun that error of which
Prejudice hath shown the most distorted resemblance. It is indeed but
seldom, that Nature adjusts the intellectual balance so accurately as
not to throw an unequal weight into either of the scales.
Such likewise is the situation of man, that in the first stage of life
the predominant Faculty engrosseth his attention, as the
predominant Passion influenceth his actions. Instead therefore of
strengthening the weaker power by assisting its exertions, and by
supplying its defects, he is adding force to that which was originally
too strong; and the same reflection which discovers his error,
shows him likewise the difficulty of correcting it. Even in those minds,
in which the distribution was primarily equal, education, habit, or some
early bias is ready to break that perfect poise which is
necessary to constitute consummate excellence.
From
this account of the different manners, in which the faculties of the
mind exert themselves in the sphere of competition, your Lordship will
immediately observe, that the Poet who attempts to combine distant
ideas, to catch remote allusions, to form vivid and agreeable pictures;
is more apt from the very nature of his profession to set up a false
standard of excellence, than the cool and dispassionate
Philosopher who proceeds deliberately from position to argument, and who
employs Imagination only as the Handmaid of a superior faculty. Having
gone thus far, like persons who have got into a track from which they
cannot recede, we may venture to proceed a step farther; and affirm that
the Lyric Poet is exposed to this hazard more nearly than any
other, and that to prevent
him from falling into the extreme we have mentioned, will require the
exercise of the closest attention.
That
I may illustrate this observation as fully as the nature of the subject
will permit, it will be expedient to enquire into the end which Lyric
Poetry proposeth to obtain, and to examine the original standards from
which the rules of this art are deduced.
Aristotle,
who has treated of poetry at great length, assigns two causes of its
origin,—Imitation and Harmony; both of which are natural to
the human mind3. By Imitation he understands, “whatever employs means to
represent any subject in a natural manner, whether it hath a real or
imaginary existence4.” The desire of imitating is originally stamped on the
mind, and is a source of perpetual pleasure. “Thus” (says the great
Critic) “though the figures of wild beasts, or of dead men, cannot be
viewed as they naturally are without horror and reluctance; yet the
Imitation of these in painting is highly agreeable, and our pleasure is
augmented in proportion to that degree of resemblance which we conceive
to subsist betwixt the Original and the Copy5.” By Harmony he understands not
the
numbers or measures of poetry only, but that music of language, which
when it is justly adapted to variety of sentiment or description,
contributes most effectually to unite the pleasing with the
instructive6. This indeed seems to be the opinion of all the Ancients
who have written on this subject. Thus Plato says expressly, that those
Authors who employ numbers and images without music have no other merit
than that of throwing prose into measure7.
You
will no doubt be of opinion, my Lord, upon reflecting on this subject,
that Poetry was originally of an earlier date than Philosophy, and that
its different species were brought to a certain pitch of perfection
before that Science had been cultivated in an equal degree. Experience
informs us on every occasion, that Imagination shoots forward to its
full growth, and even becomes wild and luxuriant, when the reasoning
Faculty is only beginning to open, and is wholly unfit to connect the
series of accurate deduction. The information of the senses (from which
Fancy generally borrows her images) always obtains the earliest credit,
and makes for that reason the most lasting impressions. The sallies of
this irregular Faculty
c
are likewise abrupt and instantaneous, as they are generally the effects
of a sudden impulse which reason is not permitted to restrain. As
therefore we have already seen, that the desire of imitating is
innate to the mind (if your Lordship will permit me to make use
of an unphilosophical epithet) and as the first inhabitants of the world
were employed in the culture of the field, and in surveying the scenery
of external Nature, it is probable that the first rude draughts of
Poetry were extemporary effusions, either descriptive of the scenes of
pastoral life, or extolling the attributes of the Supreme Being. On this
account Plato says that Poetry was originally Ενθεος Μιμησις8, or an inspired imitation of
those objects which produced either pleasure or admiration. To paint
those objects which produced pleasure was the business of the pastoral,
and to display those which raise admiration was the task consigned to
the Lyric Poet. —To excite this passion, no method was so
effectual as that of celebrating the perfections of the Powers who were
supposed to preside over Nature. The Ode therefore in its first
formation was a song in honour of these Powers9, either sung at solemn
festivals or after the days of Amphion who was the inventor
of the Lyre, accompanied with the musick of that instrument. Thus Horace
tells us,
Musa dedit fidibus Divos, puerosque Divorum,10
The Muse to nobler subjects tun’d her lyre,
Gods, and the sons of Gods her song inspire.
Francis.
In
this infancy of the arts, when it was the business of the Muse, as the
same Poet informs us,
Publica privatis secernere, sacra prophanis;
Concubitu prohibere vago, dare jura maritis,
Oppida moliri, leges includere ligno.11
Poetic Wisdom mark’d with happy mean,
Public and private, sacred and profane,
The wandering joys of lawless love supprest,
With equal rites the wedded couple blest,
Plann’d future towns, and instituted laws, &c.
Francis.
your Lordship will immediately conclude that the species of Poetry
which was first cultivated (especially when its end was to excite
admiration) must for that reason have been the loosest and the
most undetermined. There are indeed particular circumstances, by
the concurrence of which one branch of an Art may be rendered perfect,
when it is first introduced; and these circumstances were favourable to
the Authors of the Eclogue. But whatever some readers may think, your
Lordship will not look upon it as a paradox, to affirm that the same
causes which produced
c2
this advantage to pastoral poetry, contributed in an equal degree to
make the first Lyric Poems the most vague, uncertain, and
disproportioncd standards.
In
general it may be observed, that the difficulty of establishing rules is
always augmented in proportion to the variety of objects which an Art
includes. Pastoral Poetry is defined by an ingenious Author, to be an
imitation of what may be supposed to pass among Shepherds12. This was
accomplished the more easily by the first performers in this art,
because they were themselves employed in the occupation which they
describe, and the subjects which fell within their sphere must have been
confined to a very narrow circle. They contented themfelves with
painting in the simplest language the external beauties of nature, and
with conveying an image of that age in which men generally lived on the
footing of equality, and followed the dictates of an understanding
uncultivated by Art. In succeeding ages, when manners became more
polished, and the refinements of luxury were substituted in place of the
simplicity of Nature, men were still fond of retaining an idea of this
happy period (which perhaps originally existed in its full extent, only
in the imagination of Poets) and the character of a perfect pastoral was
justly drawen from the writings of those Authors who first attempted to
excel in it13.
Though
we must acknowledge, that the poetic representations of a golden
age are chimerical, and that descriptions of this kind were not
always measured by the standard of truth; yet it must be allowed at the
same time, that at a period when Manners were uniform and natural, the
Eclogue, whose principal excellence lies in exhibiting simple and lively
pictures of common objects and common characters, was brought at once to
a state of greater perfection by the persons who introduced it, than it
could have arrived at in a more improved and enlightned aera.
You
will observe, my Lord, that these circumstances were all of them
unfavourable to Lyric Poetry. The Poet in this branch of his Art
proposed as his principal aim to excite Admiration, and his mind without
the assistance of critical skill was left to the unequal task of
presenting succeeding ages with the rudiments of Science. He was at
liberty indeed to range through the ideal world, and to collect images
from every quarter; but in this research he proceeded without a guide,
and his imagination
like a fiery courser with loose reins was left to pursue that path into
which it deviated by accident, or was enticed by temptation. In short,
Pastoral Poetry takes in only a few objects, and is characterized by
that simplicity, tenderness, and delicacy which were happily and easily
united in the work of an ancient Shepherd. He had little use for the
rules of criticism, because he was not much exposed to the danger of
infringing them. The Lyric Poet on the other hand took a more
diversified and extensive range, and his imagination required a strong
and steady rein to correct its vehemence, and restrain its rapidity.
Though therefore we can conceive without difficulty, that the Shepherd
in his poetic effusions might contemplate only the external
objects which were presented to him, yet we cannot so readily
believe that the mind in framing a Theogony, or in assigning distinct
provinces to the Powers who were supposed to preside over Nature, could
in its first Essays proceed with so calm and deliberate a pace through
the fields of invention, as that its work should be the perfect pattern
of just and corrected composition.
From
these observations laid together, your Lordship will judge of the state
of Lyric Poetry, when it was first introduced, and will perhaps be
inclined to assent to a part of the proposition laid down in the
beginning, “that as Poets in general are more apt to set up a false
standard
of excellence than Philosophers are, so the Lyric Poet was exposed to
this danger more immediately than any other member of the same
profession.” Whether or not the preceding Theory can be justly applied
to the works of the first Lyric Poets, and how far the Ode continued to
be characterised by it in the more improved state of ancient Learning,
are questions which can only be answered by taking a short view of
both.
It
is indeed, my Lord, much to be regretted, that we have no certain
guide to lead us through that labyrinth in which we grope for the
discovery of Truth, and are so often entangled in the maze of
Error when we attempt to explain the origin of Science, or to trace the
manners of remote antiquity. I should be at a loss to enter upon
this perplexed and intricate subject, if I did not know, that History
has already familiarized to your Lordship the principal objects which
occur in this research, and that it is the effect of extensive knowledge
and superior penetration to invigorate the effort of Diffidence, and to
repress the surmises of undistinguishing Censure.
The
Inhabitants of Greece who make so eminent a figure in the records of
Science, as well as in the History of the progression of Empire, were
originally a savage and lawless people, who lived in a state of war with
one another, and possessed a desolate country, from which
they expected to be driven by the invasion of a foreign enemy14. Even after
they had begun to emerge from this state of absolute barbarity, and had
built a kind of cities to restrain the encroachments of the neighbouring
nations, the inland country continued to be laid waste by the
depredations of robbers, and the maritime towns were exposed to the
incursions of pirates15. Ingenious as this people naturally were, the terror
and suspence in which they lived for a considerable time, kept them
unacquainted with the Arts and Sciences which were flourishing in other
countries. When therefore a Genius capable of civilizing them started
up, it is no wonder that they held him in the highest estimation, and
concluded that he was either descended from, or inspired by some of
those Divinities whose praises he was employed in rehearsing.
Such
was the situation of Greece, when Linus, Orpheus, and Museus, the first
Poets whose names have reached posterity, made their appearance on the
theatre of life. These writers undertook the difficult task of reforming
their countrymen, and of laying down a theological and philosophical
system16. —We are informed by
Diogenes Laertius, that Linus, the Father of Grecian Poetry, was the son
of Mercury and the Muse Urania, and that he sung of the Generation of
the world, of the course of the sun and moon, of the origin of animals,
and of the principles of vegetation17. He taught, says the same Author, that
all things were formed at one time, and that they were jumbled together
in a Chaos, till the operation of a Mind introduced regularity.
After
all, however, we must acknowledge, that so complex, so diversified, and
so ingenious a system as the Greek Theology, was too much for an
uninstructed Genius, however exuberant, to have conceived in its
full extent. Accordingly we are told, that both Orpheus and Museus
travelled into Ægypt, and infused the traditionary learning of a
cultivated people into the minds of their own illiterate countrymen18. To do
this the more effectually, they composed Hymns, or short sonnets, in
which their meaning was couched under the veil of beautiful allegory,
that their lessons might at once arrest the
d
imagination, and be impressed upon the Memory19. This, my Lord, we are
informed by the great Critic, was the first dress in which Poetry made
its appearance20.
Of
Orpheus we know little more with certainty, than that the subjects of
his poems were the formation of the world, the offspring of Saturn, the
birth of the Giants, and the origin of man21. These were favourite
topics among the first Poets, and the discussion of them tended at once
to enlarge the imagination, and to give the reasoning faculty a proper
degree of exercise. This Poet however, though he obtained the highest
honours from his contemporaries, yet seems to have managed his subjects
in so loose a manner, that succeeding Writers will not allow him to have
been a Philosopher22. At present we are not sufficiently qualified to
determine his character, as most of the pieces which pass under his name
are ascribed to one Onomacritus, an Athenian who flourished about the
time of Pisistratus. That the writings of Orpheus were highly and
extensively useful, is a truth confirmed by the most convincing
evidence. The extraordinary
effects which his Poetry and Music are said to have produced, however
absurd and incredible in themselves, are yet unquestioned proofs that he
was considered as a superior Genius, and that his countrymen thought
themselves highly indebted to him. Horace gives an excellent account of
this matter in very few words.
Sylvestres homines, Sacer, Interpresque Deorum
Cædibus, & victu fœdo deterruit Orpheus,
Dictus ob hoc lenire tigres, rabidosque leones.23
The wood-born race of men when Orpheus tam’d,
From acorns, and from mutual blood reclaim’d.
The Priest divine was fabled to assuage
The tiger’s fierceness, and the lion’s rage.
Francis.
Museus,
the Pupil of Orpheus, is as little known to posterity as his Master. His
only genuine production which has reached the present times is an Ode to
Ceres, a piece indeed full of exuberance and variety24. The Ancients in
general seem to have entertained a very high opinion of his Genius and
writings, as he is said to have been the first person who composed a
regular Theogony, and is likewise celebrated as the inventor of the
Sphere25. His principle
d2
was that all things would finally resolve into the same materials of
which they were originally compounded26. Virgil assigns him a place of
distinguishied eminence in the plains of Elysium.
——sic est affata Sibylla.
Musæum ante omnes, medium nam plurima turba
Hunc habet, atque humeris extantem suspicit altis.27
——The Sibyl thus address’d
Musæus, rais’d o’er all the circling throng.
It
is generally allowed that Amphion, who was a native of Bæotia, brought music
into Greece from Lydia, and invented that instrument (the Lyre) from
which Lyric Poetry takes its name28. Before his time they had no
regular knowledge of this divine art, though we must believe that they
were acquainted with it in some measure, as dancing is an art in which
we are informed that the earliest Poets were considerable proficients29.
Such,
my Lord, was the character of the first Lyric Poets, and such were the
subjects upon which they exercised invention. We have seen, in the
course of this short detail, that these Authors attempted to civilize a
barbarous people, whose imagination it was necessary to seize by every
possible expedient; and upon whom chastised composition would have
probably lost its effect, as its beauties are not perceptible to the
rude and illiterate. That they employed this method principally to
instruct their countrymen is more probable, when we remember that the
rudiments of learning were brought from Ægypt, a country in which Fable
and Allegory remarkably
predominated30. By conversing with this people, it is natural to
suppose that men of impetuous imaginations would imbibe their manner,
and would adopt that species of composition as the most proper, which
was at the same time agreeable to their own inclination, and authorised
as expedient by the example of others.
From
the whole, my Lord, we may conclude with probability, that the Greek
Hymn was originally a loose allegorical Poem, in which Imagination was
permitted to take its full career, and sentiment was rendered at once
obscure and agreeable, by being screened behind a veil of the richest
poetic imagery.
The
loose fragments of these early writers which have come down to our
times, render this truth as conspicuous as the nature of the subject
will permit. A Theogony, or an account of the procession of fabulous
Deities, was a theme on which Imagination might display her inventive
power in its fullest extent. Accordingly Hesiod introduces his work with
recounting the genealogy of the Muses, to whom he assigns “an apartment
and attendants, near the summit of snowy Olympus31.” These Ladies,
he tells us, “came to pay him a visit, and complimented him with a
scepter and a branch of laurel, when he was feeding his flock on the
mountain of Helicon32.” Some tale of this kind it was usual with the Poets to
invent, that the vulgar in those ages of fiction and ignorance might
consider their persons as sacred, and that the offspring of their
imaginations might be regarded as the children of Truth.
From
the same licentious use of Allegory and Metaphor sprung the Fables of
the wars of the Giants, of the birth and education of Jupiter, of the
dethroning of Saturn, and of the provinces assigned by the Supreme to
the Inferior Deities; all of which are subjects said to have been
particularly treated by Orpheus33. The love of Fable became indeed so
remarkably prevalent in the earliest ages, that it is now impossible in
many instances to distinguish real from apparent truth in the History of
these times, and to discriminate the persons who were useful members of
society, from those who exist only in the works of a Poet, whose aim was
professedly to excite Admiration. Thus every event of importance was
disfigured by the colouring of poetic narration, and by ascribing to one
man the separate actions which perhaps were
performed by several persons of one name34, we are now wholly unable to
disentangle truth from a perplexed and complicated detail of real and
fictitious incidents.
It
appears likewise from these shreds of antiquity, that the subjects of
the Hymn were not sufficiently limited, as we sometimes find one of them
addressed to several Deities, whose different functions recurring
constantly to the mind must have occasioned unavoidable obscurity35. The
Poet by this means was led into numberless digressions, in which the
remote points of connection will be imperceptible to the reader, who
cannot place himself in some situation similar to that of the Writer,
and attend particularly to the character and manners of the period at
which he wrote.
Your
Lordship, without the testimony of experience, would hardly believe that
a species of composition which derived its origin from, and owed its
peculiarities to the circumstances we have mentioned, could have been
considered in an happier æra as a pattern worthy the imitation of
cultivated genius, and the perusal of a polished and civilized people.
One is indeed ready to conclude, at the first view, that a mode of
writing which was assumed for a particular purpose, and was adopted to
the manners of an illiterate age, might at least have undergone
considerable alterations in succeeding periods, and might have received
improvements proportioned to those which are made in other branches of
the same art. But the fact
is, that while the other branches of poetry have been gradually
modelled by the rules of criticism, the Ode hath only been changed in a
few external circumstances, and the enthusiasm, obscurity and
exuberance, which characterised it when first introduced, continue to be
ranked among its capital and discriminating excellencies.
To
account for this phenomenon, my Lord, I need only remind your
Lordship of a truth which reflexion has, no doubt, frequently
suggested;—that the rules of criticism are originally drawen, not
from the speculative idea of perfection in an art, but from the work of
that Artist to whom either merit or accident hath appropriated
e
the most established character. From this position it obviously follows,
that such an art must arrive at once to its highest perfection, as the
attempts of succeeding performers are estimated not by their own
intrinsic value or demerit, but by their conformity to a standard
which is previously set before them. It hath happened fortunately for
the republic of letters, that the two higher species of poetry are
exempted from the bad consequences which might have followed an exact
observation of this rule. An early and perfect standard was settled to
regulate the Epopee, and the Drama was susceptible of gradual
improvement, as Luxury augmented the subjects, and decorated the
machinery of the theatre. We have already seen that Lyric Poetry was not
introduced with the advantages of the former, and reflection must
convince us, that it is not calculated to gain the slow and
imperceptible accessions of the latter. We may observe however in the
general, that as the opinions of the bulk of mankind in speculative
matters are commonly the result of accident rather than the consequences
of reflection, so it becomes extremely difficult, if not impossible, in
some instances to point out a defect in an established model
without incurring the censure of the multitude. Such, my Lord, is the
nature of man, and so trifling and capricious are the circumstances upon
which his sentiments depend.
Accustomed
as your Lordship has been to survey the improved manners of an
enlightned age, you will contemplate with pleasure an happier aera in
the progression of Science, when the Ode from being confined wholly to
fictitious Theology, was transposed to the circle of Elegance and the
Graces. Such is its appearance in the writings ot Anacreon, of Horace,
and in the two fragments of Sappho.
Anacreon
was nearly contemporary with that Onomacritus, whom we have mentioned as
the Author of those poems which are ascribed to Orpheus. He flourished
between the 60th and the 70th Olympiad. His pieces
are the offspring of genius and indolence. His subjects are perfectly
suited to his character. The devices which he would have to be carved
upon a silver cup are extremely ingenious.
——Διος
γονον
Βακχον Ευιον
ἡμιν.
Μυστιν αματε
Κυπριν
Ὑμεναιοις
κροτουσαν.
Και Εροτας
αποπλους
Και χαριτας
γελωσας, &c.36
——The race of Jove,
Bacchus whose happy smiles approve;
e2
The Cyprian Queen, whose gentle hand
Is quick to tye the nuptial band;
The sporting Loves unarm’d appear,
The Graces loose and laughing near.
Sweetness
and natural elegance characterise the writings of this Poet, as much as
carelessness and ease distinguished his manners. In some of his pieces
there is exuberance and even wildness of imagination, as in that
particularly which is addressed to a young girl, where he wishes
alternately to be transformed into a mirror, a coat, a stream, a
bracelet, and a pair of shoes, for the different purposes which he
recites37. This is meer sport and wantonness, and the Poet would
probably have excused himself for it, by alledging that he took no
greater liberties in his own sphere than his predecessors of the same
profession had done in another. His indolence and love of ease is often
painted with great simplicity and elegance38, and his writings abound
with those beautiful and unexpected turns which are characteristic of
every species of the Ode39.
Though
we must allow Anacreon to have been an original Genius, yet it is
probable, as I formerly observed, that he took Lyric Poetry as he found
it; and without attempting to correct imperfections, of which he might
have been sensible, made on the contrary the same use of this which a
man of address will do of the foibles of his neighbour, by employing
them to promote his own particular purposes. We may conclude indeed from
the character of this Poet, that he was not fitted to strike out new
lights in the field of Science, or to make considerable deviations from
the practice of his Predecessors. He was, no doubt, of opinion likewise,
that his manner was authorised in some measure by the example of the
Mitylenian Poetess, whose pieces are celebrated for softness and
delicacy40, and who possessed above all others the art of
selecting the happiest circumstances which she placed likewise in the
most striking points of view41. Longinus produceth, as a proof of this, her
fine Ode inscribed to a favourite attendant, in which the progression of
that tumultuous emotion, which deprived her of her senses, is described
with peculiar elegance and sensibility42.
We
are at a loss to judge of the character of Alcæus, the countryman and
rival of Sappho, because scarce any fragment of his writings has reached
the present times. He is celebrated by the Ancients as a spirited
Author, whose poems abounded with examples of the sublime and vehement.
Thus Horace says, when comparing him to Sappho, that he sung so forcibly
of wars, disasters, and shipwrecks, that the Ghosts stood still to hear
him in silent astonishment43. The same Poet informs us, that he likewise sung
of Bacchus, Venus, the Muses, and Cupid44. From these sketches of his
character we may conclude that his pieces were distinguished by those
marks of rapid and uncontrolled imagination, which we have found to
characterise the works of the first Lyric Poets.
Your
Lordship needs not be told, that the Roman Poet who had the advantage of
improving upon so many originals, takes in a greater variety of subjects
than any of
his predecessors, and runs into more diffuse and diversified measure.
I have said, my Lord, that
his subjects are more diversified, because in the character of a Lyric
Poet we must consider him as a professed imitator both of Anacreon and
of Pindar. In the former point of view he falls under our immediate
cognisance; in the latter we shall take a view of him afterwards, when
we come to examine the works of that great Original, whose example he
follows.
The
Reader will observe, that in the shorter Odes of Horace there is
commonly one leading thought, which is finely enlivened with the graces
of description. A constant Unity of sentiment is therefore
preserved in each of them, and the abrupt starts and sallies of passion
are so artfully interwoven with the principal subject, that upon a
review of the whole piece, we find it to be a perfect imitation of
Nature. This Poet (whose judgment appears to have been equal to his
imagination) is particularly careful to observe propriety in his most
irregular excursions, and the vivacity of his passion is justified by
the circumstances in which he is supposed to be placed. The diction of
these poems is likewise adapted with great accuracy to the sentiment, as
it is generally concise, forcible, and expressive. Brevity of language
ought indeed particularly to characterise this species of the Ode, in
which the Poet writes from immediate feeling, and is intensely
animated by his subject. Delicacy is likewise indispensibly requisite,
because the reader is apt to be disgusted with the least appearance of
constraint or harshness in a poem, whose principal excellence lies in
the happy and elegant turn of a pointed reflection. In short, little sallies and picturesque epithets
have a fine effect in pieces of this kind, as by the former the passions
are forcibly inflamed, and by the latter their effects are feelingly
exposed.
Of
all these delicate beauties of composition, the Odes of Horace abound
with pregnant and striking examples. Sometimes he discovers the strength
of his passion, when he is endeavouring to forget it, by a sudden and
lively turn which is wholly unexpected. Thus he tells Lydia,
Non si me satis audias,
Speres perpetuum dulcia barbare
Lædentem oscula, quæ Venus
Quinta parte sui nectaris imbuit.45
Sometimes
his pictures are heightned with beautiful imagery, and he seizeth the
imagination before he appeals to reason. Thus, when he is advising his
friend not to mourn any longer for a man who was dead, instead of
proposing the subject immediately he says,
Non semper imbres nubibus hispidos
Manant in agros, &c.46
Not always snow, and hail, and rain
Defend, and beat the fruitful plain. Creech.
On
other occasions he breaks abruptly into a short and spirited
transition.
Auditis? an me ludit amabilis
Insania? audire et videor pios
Errare per lucos, amœnæ
Quos et aquae subeunt et auræ.47
Dos’t hear? or sporting in my brain,
What wildly-sweet deliriums reign!
Lo! mid Elysium’s balmy groves,
Each happy shade transported roves!
I see the living scene display’d,
Where rills and breathing gales sigh murmuring thro’ the shade.
On
some subjects he is led imperceptibly into a soft melancholy, which
peculiar elegance of expression renders extremely agreeable in the end
of this poem. There is a fine stroke of this kind in his Ode to
Septimus, with whom he was going to fight against the Cantabrians. He
figures out a poetical recess for his old age, and then says,
f
Ille te mecum locus, et beatæ
Postulant arces, ibi tu calentem
Debita sparges lachryma favillam
Vatis amici.48
That happy place, that sweet retreat.
The charming hills that round it rise,
Your latest hours, and mine await;
And when your Poet Horace dyes;
There the deep sigh thy poet-friend shall mourn,
And pious tears bedew his glowing urn.
Francis.
Upon
the whole, my Lord, you will perhaps be of opinion, that though the
subjects of this second species of the Ode are wholly different from
these of the first; yet the same variety of images, boldness of
transition, figured diction, and rich colouring which characterised this
branch of poetry on its original introduction, continue to be uniformly
and invariably remarkable in the works of succeeding performers.
Reflection indeed will induce us to acknowledge, that in this branch of
Lyric Poetry the Author may be allowed to take greater liberties than we
could permit him to do in that which has formerly been mentioned.
It is the natural effect of any
passion by which the mind is agitated, to break out into short and
abrupt sallies which are expressive of its impetuosity, and of an
imagination heated, and starting in the
tumult of thought from one object to another. To follow therefore the
workings of the mind in such a situation and to paint them happily, is
in other words to copy Nature. But your Lordship will observe, that the
transitions of the Poet who breaks from his subject to exhibit an
historical detail whose connection with it is remote, or who is
solicitous to display the fertility of a rich imagination at the expence
of perspicuity, when it is not supposed that his passions are inflamed:
you will observe, my Lord, that his digressions are by no means so
excusable as those of the other, because obscurity in the latter may be
an excellence, whereas in the former it is always a blemish.
It
is only necessary to observe farther on this head, that the difference
of the subjects treated by Anacreon and Horace, from those of Orpheus,
Museus, &c. is owing to the different characters of the ages in
which they lived. We could not indeed have expected to meet with any
thing very serious, at any period, from so indolent and careless a
writer as Anacreon. But Luxury even in his time had made considerable
progress in the world. The principles of Theology were sufficiently well
established. Civil polity had succeeded to a state of confusion, and men
were become fond of ease and affluence, of wine and women. Anacreon
lived at the court of a voluptuous Monarch49, and had nothing to divert
his mind from
f2
the pursuit of happiness in his own way. His Odes therefore are of that
kind, in which the gentler Graces peculiarly predominate. Sappho and
Horace were employed in the same manner. The Lady had a Gallant, of whom
it appears that she was extremely fond, and the Roman Poet lived in a
polite court, was patronized by a man of distinguished eminence, and was
left at full liberty to pursue that course of life to which he was most
powerfully prompted by inclination.
The
poetic vein in these Writers takes that turn, which a stranger must have
expected upon hearing their characters. Their pieces are gay,
entertaining, loose, elegant, and ornamented with a rich profusion of
the graces of description. The
reader of sensibility will receive the highest pleasure from
perusing their works, in which the internal movements of the mind warmed
by imagination, or agitated by passion, are exposed in the happiest and
most agreeable attitudes. This, perhaps, is the principal excellence of
the looser branches of poetic composition. The mind of the Poet in these
pieces is supposed to be intensely kindled by his subject. His Fancy
assumes the rein, and the operation of reason is for a moment suspended.
He follows the impulse of enthusiasm, and throws off those simple but
lively strokes of Nature and Passion, which can only be felt, and are
beyond imitation.
Ut sibi quivis
Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret
Ausus idem!50
All may hope to imitate with ease:
Yet while they drive the same success to gain,
Shall find their labour and their hopes are vain.
Francis.
The
unequal measures which are used in these shorter Odes, are likewise
adapted with great propriety to the subjects of which they treat. Horace
says, that this inequality of numbers was originally fixed upon as
expressive of the complaints of a lover; but he adds, that they became
quickly expressive likewise of his exultation.
Versibus impariter junctis Querimonia primum
Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.51
Unequal measures first were taught to flow,
Sadly expressive of the Lover’s woe.
These
looser and shorter measures distinguish this branch of the Ode from the
Hymn which was composed in heroic measure52, and from the Pindaric Ode (as it
is commonly called) to which the dithyrambique or more diversified
stanza was particularly appropriated. Of the shorter Ode therefore it
may be said with propriety,
Son stile impetueux souvent marche au hazarde
Chez un beau disordre est un effect de l’art.53
Thus,
my Lord, we have taken a view of the Lyric poetry of the Ancients, as it
appeared originally in the works of the earliest Poets, and as it was
afterwards employed to enliven a train of more elegant and delicate
sentiment. I have attempted, in the course of this enquiry, to
follow the lights which Antiquity throws on this subject as closely as
possible, to explain facts by placing them in connection, and to
illustrate reasoning by example.
Your
Lordship’s acquaintance with the principles of civil Government, and
your experience of the effects of education have enabled you to observe
the character, which the Manners of an age stamp upon the
productions of the Authors who live in it. Experience will convince us,
that these general revolutions resemble more nearly than we are apt to
imagine at first view, the circumstances of an Individual at the
different periods of life. In one age he is captivated by the beauties
of description, at another he is fond of the deductions of Philosophy;
his opinions vary with his years, and his actions, as directed by these,
are proportionably diversified. In all these circumstances however, the
original bias which he received from Nature remains unalterable, and the
peculiarity of his character appears conspicuous, notwithstanding
the accidental diversity of fluctuating sentiments. It is to be expected
in such a situation, that changes similar to these will usually take
place in arts which are susceptible of perpetual mutation; and of this a
particular instance is exhibited in the preceding detail. Another branch
of this subject remains to be considered, and on this I shall give your
Lordship the trouble of perusing a few remarks in a subsequent letter.
Permit me only to observe, from what hath already been advanced, that
the ingredients of Genius are often bestowed by Nature, when the polish
of Art is wanted to mould the original materials into elegant
proportion. He who possesseth the former in the highest degree may be a
Shakespear or an Æschylus; but both were united in forming the more
perfect characters of Demosthenes and Homer.
The
view, my Lord, of the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients which has been taken
in the preceding part of this Essay, may probably have suggested a
Question to your Lordship, to which it is necessary that an answer
should be given, before I enter upon that part of the subject which
remains to be considered. From the observations formerly made, I am
afraid that your Lordship has been looking upon my procedure, as you
would have viewed that of the honest Irishman, who pulled an old house
about his ears, before he had reflected that it was necessary to
substitute a better in its room. In the same manner you will perhaps
think, that I have taken a good deal of pains to point out the
Defects of Lyric Poetry, and to assign the Causes which
originally produced them; without however establishing the rules of this
branch of the Art, and without enquiring what proportion of poetic
embellishment naturally belongs to it, considered as distinguished from
every other species.
Permit
me therefore to observe, that my intention in the preceding remarks will
be greatly mistaken, if, when I have been endeavouring to expose the
abuse of imagination, it should be thought, either that I would
wholly repress the excursions of this noble Faculty, or that I would
confine its exercise within narrow limits. It must be obvious to every
person who reflects on this subject, that Imagination presides over
every branch of the Poetic Art, and that a certain infusion of her
peculiar beauties is necessary to constitute its real and essential
character. The Poet therefore of every denomination may be said with
great propriety in an higher sense than the Orator, “to paint to the
eyes, and touch the soul, and combat with shining arms54.” It is from this
consideration that Horace says, speaking of Poetry in general,
Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores,
Cur ego si nequeo ignoroque, Poeta salutor?55
Though
the influence of imagination on every species of Poetry is so obvious,
as not to stand in need of illustration, yet we must observe at the same
time, that
g
this power is exerted in different degrees56, as the Poet is led by the
nature of that subject to which his Genius hath received the most
remarkable bias. Thus the simple beauties of the Eclogue would appear in
the same light, when transposed to the Epopee, as plants brought to
forced vegetation in a Green-house must do to those who have seen them
flourishing in their native soil, and ripened by the benignity of an
happier climate. In the one case they are considered as unnatural
productions, whose beauty is surpassed by the Natives of the soil; in
the other they are regarded as just and decent ornaments, whose real
excellence is properly estimated. The same remark may be applied
indiscriminately to all the other branches of this art. Though they are
originally the offspring of one Parent, yet there are certain
characteristic marks, by which a general resemblance is fully
distinguished from perfect similarity.
It
is necessary to observe in general on this subject, that whatever degree
of superiority the reasoning Faculty ought ultimately to possess in the
sphere of Composition, we are not to consider this Power as acting the
same part in the work of a Poet, which it should always act in that of a
Philosopher. In the performance of the latter, an appeal to reason is
formally stated, and is carried on by the
process of connected argumentation; whereas in that of the former the
Judgment is principally employed in the disposition of
materials57. Thus the Philosopher and the Poet are equally entitled
to the character of judicious, when the arguments of the one are just
and conclusive, and when the images of the other are apposite and
natural.
g2
When
your Lordship reflects on the Nature and End of Lyric Poetry, it will
appear to be at least as much characterised by the Graces of ornament as
any other species whatever. We have already seen that the Ode was early
consecrated to the purposes of Religion, and that it was intended to
raise Admiration by extolling the attributes of the Supreme Being. On a
subject of this nature the Poet probably thought, that sublime and
exuberant imagery was necessary to support the grandeur of those
sentiments which were naturally suggested to his mind58. Even when these
original topics were laid aside, and the Lyric Muse acted in another
sphere, her strains were still employed, either to commemorate the
actions of Deified Heroes, or to record the exploits of persons whom
rank and abilities rendered eminently conspicuous.
All
these subjects afford a noble field for the play of imagination, and it
is a certain truth that the purity of composition is generally
defective, in proportion to that degree of sublimity at which the Poet
is capable of arriving59. Great objects are apt to confound and dazzle
the imagination. In proportion as this faculty expands to take them in,
its power of conceiving them distinctly becomes less adequate to the
subject; and when the mind is overwrought and drained as it were of
sentiment, it is no wonder that we find it sometimes attempting to
repair this loss, by substituting in the room of true sublimity an
affected pomp and exuberance of expression.
That
we may conceive more fully the propriety of this observation with regard
to Lyric Poetry, I shall now proceed to enquire what part
Imagination naturally claims in the composition of the Ode, and what are
the errors into which the Poet is most ready to be betrayed.
As
to the first, I need not tell your Lordship, that whatever Art proposeth
as an ultimate end to excite Admiration, must owe its principal
excellence to that Faculty of the mind which delights to contemplate the
sublime and the wonderful. This indeed may be called the sphere, in
which Imagination peculiarly predominates. When we attempt, even in the
course of conversation, to paint any object whose magnificence hath made
a strong impression upon the memory, we naturally adopt the boldest and
most forcible epithets we can think of, to convey our own idea as
compleatly as possible to the mind of another. We are prompted by a
powerful propensity to retouch our description again and again, we
select the most apposite images to animate our expression; in short,
we fall without perceiving it, into the stile and figures of poetry. If
then Admiration produceth such an effect upon the mind in the more
common occurrences of life, we may conceive the superior influence which
it must have upon the imagination of a Poet, when it is wound up to the
highest pitch, and is placing a great object in every point of light by
which its excellence may most conspicuously appear. It will at least be
obvious, that in such a situation the feelings of the heart must be more
intensely animated than in any other, not only because Genius is
supposed to be the Parent of Sensibility, but as the person who is
possessed of this quality exerts the full force of his talents and art
to produce one particular effect. He endeavours (as Longinus expresseth
it) “not to be seen himself, but to place the idea which he hath formed
before the very eye of another60.”
It
is a common mistake among people who have not examined this subject, to
suppose that a Poet may with greater ease excite Admiration when his
theme is sublime, than when it is such as we have been more accustomed
to contemplate61. This opinion is indeed plausible at the first view,
because it may be said that
we go half-way to meet that Author, who proposeth to reach an end by
means which have an apparent probability to effectuate it; but it will
appear upon reflection, that this very circumstance, instead of being
serviceable, is in reality detrimental to the Poet.
Admiration
is a passion which can never be excited in any person, unless when there
is something great and astonishing, either in the general disposition of
a work or in some of the separate members of which it is formed. Thus we
admire a whole piece, when we observe that the parts which compose it
are placed in a striking and uncommon combination, and we even consider
one happy stroke as an indication of genius in the Artist. It frequently
happens that the subject of a Poem is of such a nature, as that its most
essential members cannot be set in any light distinct from that in which
custom and experience has led us to consider them. Thus when the Poet
addressed an Hymn to Jupiter, Diana, or Apollo, he could not be ignorant
that his readers were well apprised of the general manner, in which it
was necessary to treat of these Personages, and that they would have
been offended, if he had presumed to differ in any material point from
the opinions handed down by traditionary evidence. It was therefore
necessary, that the Poet should manage a subject of this kind in the
same manner as Rubens and Caypel have painted the Crucifixion, by either
varying
the attitude of the principal object to make it more sublime and
admirable, or by rendering some inferior figure picturesque and
animated which had escaped the notice of his Predecessors. When
therefore a sublime object is not shown in some great and uncommon point
of view, the Poet sinks in our esteem as much as he would have risen in
it, if we had found his Genius equal to his Ambition.
As
I have already borrowed one illustration from painting, permit me to
recall to your Lordship’s memory, that noble figure by which the Church
of Rome permitted Raphael to represent the Eternal Father, a figure
which has always been considered as one of the greatest ornaments of the
galleries of the Vatican62. Any person may conclude that the difficulty of
succeeding in this great attempt, must have bore some proportion to the
temerity (shall we call it) of venturing to design it. If this
celebrated Artist had failed of throwing into that figure an Air wholly
extraordinary, his Design would either have been considered as rash, or
his imagination censured as deficient.
On
the contrary, the Poet who chuseth a more unpromising subject, and
displays an unexpected fertility of invention
in his manner of treating it, is admired as an Original Genius, and the
perusal of his work excites in our mind the most agreeable mixture of
surprize and pleasure.
It
must immediately occur to any reader who peruseth the Hymn of
Callimachus to Jupiter, that the subject was too great to be properly
managed by the correct and elegant genius of that writer. Instead of
enlarging (as we should have naturally expected) on any particular
perfection of this Supreme Deity, or even of enumerating in a poetical
manner the attributes which were commonly ascribed to Him, he entertains
us coldly with traditionary stories about His birth and education; and
the sublime part of his subject is either wholly omitted, or
superficially passed over. Thus speaking of the bird of Jove, he says
only,
Θηκαο δ’ οιωνον μεγ’ ὑπειροχον αγγελεωτην,
Σων τεραων‧ ἁτ’ εμοισι φιλοις ενδεξια
φαινοις.63
Thy bird, celestial messenger, who bears
Thy mandate thro’ the sky;—O be his flight
Propitious to my friends!
Pindar
introduceth this King of the feathered race in a much nobler and more
animated manner. He exhibits with true poetic enthusiasm, as an instance
of the power of harmony, the following vivid picture.
h
— — — — — εὑ-
δει
ανα σκαπτω Διος αιετος, ω-
κειαν
πτερυγ’ αμφοτερω-
θεν
χαλαξεις,
Αρχος αιωνων‧
— —
— — ὁ δε
κνωσσων
ὑγρον
νωτον αιωρει, τεαις
ρεπαισι
κατασχομενος.64
The birds fierce Monarch drops his vengeful ire;
Perch’d on the sceptre of the Olympian King,
The thrilling darts of harmony he feels,
And indolently hangs his rapid wing,
While gentle sleep his closing eye-lids seals;
And o’er his heaving limbs, in loose array
To every balmy gale the ruffling feathers play.
West.
Homer
never touches this sublime subject, without employing the utmost reach
of his invention to excite admiration in his reader.
Ζευς δε Πατηρ ιδηθεν ευτροχον ἁρμα και ἱππους
Ολυμπονδ’ εδιωκε, θεων δ’ εξεκετο θωκους.
Τω δε και ἱππους μεν λυσε κλυτος Εννοσιγαιος
Ἁρματα δ’ αμβρωμοισι τιθει, κατα λιτα
πετασσας.
Αυτος δε χρυσειον επι θρωνον ευρυοπα Ζευς
Ἑζετο, τω δε ὑπο ποσσι μεγας πελεμιζετ’
Ολυμπος.65
——The Thund’rer meditates his flight
From Ida’s summits to th’ Olympian height.
Swifter than thought the wheels instinctive fly,
Flame thro’ the vast of air, and reach the sky.
’Twas Neptune’s charge his coursers to unbrace,
And fix the car on its immortal base, &c.
He whose all-conscious eyes the world behold,
Th’ eternal Thunderer, sate thron’d in gold.
High heav’n the footstool of his feet He makes,
And wide beneath him all Olympus shakes.
Pope.
I have
mentioned these examples, as they shew the light in which a great object
will be contemplated by a man of genius; and as the reader will observe
that our admiration is not merely excited by the dignity of the theme,
but that it results from the great and uncommon circumstances which are
happily thrown into the description. Pindar, no doubt, found it a much
easier task to raise this passion in favour of Theron, whom he artfully
introduceth to the reader’s attention, after enquiring of his Muse what
God or what distinguished Heroe he should attempt to celebrate.66
h2
It
is however obvious, from what hath been advanced on this subject, that
whatever may be the nature of the theme on which the Poet insists, it is
the business of Fancy to enliven the whole piece with those natural and
animating graces which lead us to survey it with admiration. From the
whole therefore it appears, that this Faculty of the mind claims an
higher share of merit in the competition of the Ode than in any other
species of Poetry; because in the other branches of this art different
ends may be obtained, and different expedients may be fallen upon to
gain them; but the most perfect kind of Lyric Poetry admits only of that
end, to the attainment of which fertility of Imagination is
indispensably requisite.
You
will recollect, my Lord, a petition laid down in the beginning of this
Essay;—that “when Imagination is permitted to bestow the graces of
ornament indiscriminately, sentiments are either superficial, and thinly
scattered through a work, or we are obliged to search for them beneath a
load of superfluous colouring.” I shall now endeavour to evince the
truth of this reflection, by enquiring more particularly what are the
faults into which the Lyric Poet is most ready to be betrayed, by giving
a loose rein to that Faculty which colours and enlivens his
composition.
It
may be observed then in general, that we usually judge of the Genius of
a Lyric Poet by the variety of his
images, the boldness of his transitions, and the
picturesque vivacity of his descriptions. I shall under this
head trouble your Lordship with a few reflections on each of these
considered separately.
By
the Images which are employed in the Ode, I mean those
illustrations borrowed from natural and often from
familiar objects, by which the Poet either clears up an
obscurity, or arrests the attention, and kindles the imagination of his
reader. These illustrations have very distinct uses in the different
species of poetic composition. The greatest Masters in the Epopee often
introduce metaphors, which have only a general relation to the subject;
and by pursuing these through a variety of circumstances, they disengage
the reader’s attention from the principal object. This indeed often
becomes necessary in pieces of length, when attention begins to relax by
following too closely one particular train of ideas. It requires however
great judgment in the Poet to pursue this course with approbation, as he
must not only fix upon metaphors which in some points have a striking
similarity to the object illustrated, but even the digressive
circumstances must be so connected with it, as to exhibit a succession
of sentiments which resemble, at least remotely, the subject of his
Poem67. It must be obvious, at first
view, that as the Lyric Poet cannot adopt this plea, his metaphors will
always have the happiest effect, when they correspond to the object in
such a manner, as to shew its compleat proportions in the fullest point
of view, without including foreign and unappropriated epithets. This
however is not the course which a Writer of imagination will naturally
follow, unless his judgment restrains the excursions of that excentric
faculty. He will, on the contrary, catch with eagerness every image
which Fancy enlivens with the richest colouring, and he will contemplate
the external beauty of his metaphor, rather than consider the propriety
with which it is applied as an illustration. It is probably owing to
this want of just attention to propriety, that the first Lyric Poets
have left such imperfect standards to the imitation of posterity.
When
we examine the works of later Poets among the Ancients, we find that
even those of them who are most exceptionable in other circumstances,
have yet in a great measure corrected this mistake of their
predecessors. In the lyric
Odes of Euripides and Sophocles, the metaphors made use of are
generally short, expressive, and fitted to
correspond with great accuracy to the point which requires to be
illustrated68. Pindar is in many instances equally happy in the
choice of his images, which are frequently introduced with address, and
produce a very striking effect69.
It
is likewise necessary that the Poet should take care in the higher
species of the Ode, to assign 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
illustration 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 assistance 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 passing 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 illustration 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,
———verbum emicuit si forte decorum,
Si versus paulo concinnior unus aut alter
Injuste totum ducit, venditque poema.70
i
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.
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 circumstance 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.
Εγκαμιων γαρ αωτες ὑμνων
επ’ αλλοτ’
αλλον ως τε με-
λισσα θυνει
λογον.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.
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 constitute a perfect imitation of nature72. This
observation however cannot be applied with so much propriety to the
other kinds of it, because the transport of passion is abrupt,
instantaneous, and the mind returns suddenly to the point from which it
had digressed. On the contrary, as the passions 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 principal object more
immediately in his eye, and that his transitions will never make us lose
sight of it so far, as
i2
not to recall with ease the intermediate points of connection.
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 lustre on the character
of the principal personage73. 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 circumstance; 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 noble
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 objects74.
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 ægri somnia vanæ
Finguntur species, ut nec pes, nec caput uni
Reddatur formæ.75
This is the character of the Ode to Thrasidæus the Theban, in which
the Poet is insensibly led from one digression to another, until his
readers lose sight of the principal subject which is dropped almost as
soon as proposed76.
The
last circumstance 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 colour77. 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 illustrating truth, as the works not only
of their Poets, but even those of their Philosophers and Historians
abound with just and beautiful personifications78. Their two allegorical
Philosophers, Prodicus and Cebes, carry the matter still further, and
inculcate their lessons, by substituting in place of cool admonition a
variety of personages, who assume the most dignified character, and
address at the same time the imagination, the passions, and even the
senses of mankind79. These Authors consider man as a creature possessed of
different, and of limited faculties, whose actions are directed more
frequently by the impulse of passion, than regulated by the dictates of
reason and of truth80.
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
fictitious personages. His descriptions therefore ought to be concise,
diversified, and adapted properly to that train of sentiment which he is
employed to illustrate. 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 circumstance 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, attitudes, features, and behaviour, as much as two real
persons of opposite characters always are in the familiar intercourse of
ordinary life. In reality we assign a particular shape, complection, and
manner to the creatures of imagination, by the same rule which leads us
to ascribe a certain assemblage 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 fortitude, which form only a part of his
character. But we cannot be deceived with regard to
k
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 pass 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
passion 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 profuse81.
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-glass, and Fortune (unchangeable
in one sense) stands blind on the globe, to which she was
exalted by Cebes82.
k2
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 canvassed 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 noble 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 circumstances however
extraordinary in the narration of events. It is no
difficult matter to conceive a series of fictitious 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 eye83.
The
noblest instances of this personification are to be found in the Sacred
Writings. Nothing can exceed the majesty, with which the descent of the
Almighty is described by the Prophet Habakkuk. “Before Him (he tells us)
went the Pestilence, &c.” then suddenly addressing the Deity in the
second person, he says “the Mountains saw Thee, and they
trembled, the Overflowing of the waters passed by, the
Deep uttered his voice, and lift up his hands on high84.” In
another place, the Deluge is nobly animated, in order to display the
Omnipotence of God. “The waters (says the Psalmist) stood above the
mountains. At thy rebuke they fled, at the voice of thy thunder
they hasted away.”
From
this simple and impartial view of the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients,
considered as one branch of a cultivated Art, your Lordship will perhaps
be inclined to conclude, that in the Arts, as in the characters of men,
those which are susceptible of the highest excellence, are
likewise frequently marked with the most striking defects. This mixture
of beauty and deformity, of grandeur and meanness, which enters so often
into the action as well as the speculation of mankind, ought to be
considered as the characteristic of the human mind, which in the
chimerical pursuit of perfection is hurried by its own impetuosity from
one extreme to another. Your Lordship has, no doubt, frequently
observed, that there is upon the whole a greater uniformity in the
characters of men than superficial enquiry would lead us to conceive.
A temptation operating forcibly on the ruling passion will produce
in a temper naturally gentle and equal, an irregularity as remarkable,
and sometimes carried to a greater length, than the most powerful
stimulus is able to excite in a man of warm passions, and florid
imagination. This is a fact, of which experience will suggest examples
to every person who is conversant with mankind.
We
ought not therefore to wonder, when we observe in the writings of a
Great Genius beauties and blemishes blended promiscuously, and when we
find the Poet’s imagination distinguished only by those marks of
inaccuracy which appear in the actions of others, and which are
ultimately to be derived from the complicated ingredients of the human
mind.
I have
been led into this train of reflection, as it will enable us to account
for the inequalities which are to be met with in the writings of Pindar,
exposed as they have been to the admiration, and to the censure of
posterity. Whatever propriety the preceding rules may have with regard
to Lyric Poetry, it is certain that this Poet is not the standard from
whose work they are deduced. We have already seen that He himself
disclaims all conformity to the shackles of method, and that he insists
upon the privilege of giving a loose rein to the excursions of
imagination. The consequences of this proceeding are eminently
conspicuous in every part of his writings. His composition is coloured
with that rich imagery which Fancy throws upon the coldest sentiments,
his digressions are often too frequent and but remotely connected with
the principal subject, his personifications are bold and exuberant, and
he has made as free an use of theological fable as any Poet among the
Ancients.
The
learned and ingenious Translator of Pindar has suggested several
striking pleas in his favour, both with respect to the connection of
his thoughts and the regularity of his measure85. To resume on
the present occasion any part of what he hath advanced, would be equally
useless and improper. As to the first, I shall only add to this
Gentleman’s observations, that all the writings of Pindar
which have reached the present times are of the panegyrical kind, in
which remote circumstances and distant allusions are often
referred to with great propriety; that sometimes several Odes are
inscribed to the same person; and that all of them are wrote on
subjects too exactly similar to afford room for continued
variety of description, without allowing him frequently to digress.
It is obvious that in these circumstances the Poet must have been
forcibly prompted to indulge the natural exuberance of his genius, that
he might gain materials to fill up his subject, and that he might pay a
compliment to his Patron by some digression on the merit of his
Ancestors, as well as by an encomium on his personal qualities86. If these
considerations do not fully apologize for the excursions of this Great
Genius, they render them at least more
l
excusible in him, than the same liberties without an equal inducement
can possibly be in any of his imitators.
After
all however we must acknowledge, that Pindar has rendered his pieces
obscure on many occasions by giving too much scope to a wild
imagination; and perhaps the true reason for which he took this liberty
was that he imitated the example of his Predecessors. He had seen
the first Lyric Poets indulging the boldest sallies of Fancy, and
applying to particular purposes the Mythology of their country; and as
their writings had been held in admiration by succeeding ages, instead
of being exposed to the researches of criticism, he was encouraged to
proceed in the same course, by the expectation of obtaining a similar
reward. From a passage formerly quoted, it would appear that Pindar
thought himself peculiarly exempted from conforming to rules of any kind
whatever87, and we can suppose this opinion to have proceeded
originally from no other foundation than his knowledge of the practice
of former authors.
I am
sufficiently aware, my Lord, that some readers may object to the
preceding theory, that it is probable, if Pindar had been of opinion
that Lyric Poetry in his time stood in need of material emendations, the
same fertility of invention which enabled him to reach the heighth of
excellence in this art, without however altering
its original principles; that this would have led him likewise to invent
new rules, and to supply the deficiencies of his Predecessors.
I will venture to affirm, that this is the only species of
invention, in which we have seldom reason to expect that an Original
Genius will attempt to excel.
It
hath often been observed, that the earliest productions of a Great
Genius are generally the most remarkable for wildness and inequality.
A sublime imagination is always reaching at something great and
astonishing. Sometimes it seizeth the object of its pursuit, and at
others, like a person dizzy with the heighth of his station, it staggers
and falls headlong. When the mind of such a person ripens, and his
judgment arrives at its full maturity, we have reason to expect that the
strain of his competition will be more confident and masterly; but his
imagination, cramped by the rules which have been formerly laid down,
will be still desirous of breaking the old fetters, rather
than felicitous of inventing new ones. Though therefore it must
be acknowledged that the same Faculty which is able to invent
characters, and to colour sentiment may likewise discover the
rules and principles of an Art, yet we have no ground to hope that it
will often be employed to effectuate a purpose which an Author may
consider as in some measure prejudicial.
l2
To
compensate for the blemishes formerly mentioned, the writings of Pindar
abound with the most instructive moral sentiments, as well as with the
most exquisite beauties of descriptive poetry. The Poet often throws in
a reflection of this kind in the most natural manner, as it seems to
arise spontaneously from the subject. Thus he prepares the mind to hear
of the catastrophe of Tlepolemus by an exclamation perfectly apposite,
and appropriated to the occasion.
Αμφι δ’
ανδρω-
πων φρεσιν
αμπλακιαι
Αναριθμητοι
κρεμανται
τουτο δ’
αμηκανον εὑρειν
Ὁτι νυν, και
εν τελευ-
τα
φερτατον ανδρε τυχειν. Pin. Olym. VII.
But wrapt in error is the human mind,
And human bliss is ever insecure;
Know we what fortune yet remains behind?
Know we how long the present shall endure?
West.
This
method of introducing moral observations adds peculiar dignity and
importance to Lyric Poetry, and is likewise happily suited to the Ode,
whose diversified composition naturally admits of it.
I shall
only observe further with regard to Pindar, that his character is
eminently distinguished by that noble superiority to vulgar opinions,
which is the inseparable concomitant of true genius. He appears to have
had his Zoilus as well as Homer, and to have been equally fallible of
the extent and sublimity of his own talents. Thus he compares his
enemies to a parcel of crows and magpies pursuing an eagle.
The
learned Abbe Fraquier in a short dissertation on the character of Pindar
affirms, that one will discover too obvious an imitation of this Poet in
those pieces of Horace which are sublime and diversified88. He mentions, as
examples of this, his celebrated Odes to Virgil89 and to Galatea90, intended to
dissuade them from going to sea; and that in which he so artfully
represents to the Roman people the danger and impropriety of removing
the seat of the Empire to Troy91. Upon comparing these with the Odes of
Pindar, he says that we shall find more strength, more energy, and more
sublimity in the works of the Greek, than in those of the Roman Poet92. In
the three Odes formerly mentioned, he observes that the digressions
never lead us far from the principal subject, and the Poet’s imagination
appears to be too much confined to one place. On the contrary, Pindar
never curbs the
exuberance of his Genius. He celebrates promiscuously in the same Ode,
Gods, Heroes, and persons who have made a shining figure in their age
and country, by imitating illustrious examples93.
From
the observations made on the manner of Horace in a preceding part of
this Essay, it is sufficiently obvious, that his Genius in Lyric Poetry
was principally fitted to excel in the composition of the shorter Ode;
and that his imagination was not so equal as that of Pindar to the
higher and more perfect species. Of the three Pieces, however, which
this Author hath mentioned as imitations of the Greek Poet, we can only
admit one to have been compleatly attempted in the manner of this Great
Master. It is that which regards the design of removing the imperial
seat to Troy. The other two Odes are highly beautiful in their kind; but
the subjects are not treated at so much length, nor with that variety of
high poetic colouring which characteriseth so eminently the writings of
the latter. The Ode to the Roman people is indeed composed in an higher
strain, and is full of that enthusiasm which the subject might naturally
be supposed to excite in the mind of a Poet, who was animated by the
love of his country. Through the whole of this noble performance, the
address of the Author, and the emphatical energy with which the
sentiments are conveyed,
deserve to be equally the objects of admiration. The Poem opens with a
just and poetical description of the security of Virtue; from which the
Poet takes occasion to introduce an artful compliment to Augustus, whom
he ranks with Bacchus and Romulus; on the ascent of which last to
heaven, Juno expresseth her aversion to the repeopling of Troy. She
breaks abruptly into the subject, in a manner expressive of eager
solicitude.
——Ilion, Ilion,
Fatalis incestusque Judex
Et Mulier peregrina vertit
In pulverem.94
Troy,—perjured Troy has felt
The dire effects of her proud tyrant’s guilt;—
An Umpire partial and unjust,
And a lewd woman’s impious lust,
Lay heavy on her head, and sunk her to the dust.
Addison.
She then proceeds in the most artful manner to insinuate, that as the
destruction of this city was occasioned by her ingratitude to the Gods,
as well as by the particular injury done to her and Minerva, if Troy
should be thrice rebuilt by the hand of Apollo, the Greeks would thrice
be permitted to overturn it; and
——ter Uxor
Capta, virum puerosque ploret.95
Thrice should her captive dames to Greece return,
And their dead sons, and slaughter’d Husbands mourn.
Addison.
The prosperity which she promiseth to the Roman arms is therefore
granted, only upon condition that they never think of rebuilding this
detested city.
From
the preceding short account of this celebrated Ode, it will appear that
the transitions are extremely artful, the sentiments noble, and that the
whole conduct is happy and judicious. These, if I mistake not, are the
distinguishing excellencies of the larger Odes of Horace, in which the
Poet’s didactic genius is remarkably conspicuous. Perhaps
however, your Lordship, like the French Critic, is at a loss to find in
all this, the energy, the vehemence, the exuberance of Pindar. Horace
himself was perfectly sensible of the superior excellence of the Greek
Poet, and never rises to truer sublimity than when he is drawing his
character. The following image is great, and appropriated to the
subject.
Monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres
Quem super notas aluere ripas
Fervet, immensusque ruit profundo
Pindarus ore.96
Pindar like some fierce torrent swoln with show’rs,
Or sudden Cataracts of melting Snow,
Which from the Alps its headlong Deluge pours,
And foams, and thunders o’er the Vales below,
With desultory fury borne along,
Rolls his impetuous, vast, unfathomable song.
West.
I know
not, my Lord, how it happens, that we generally find ourselves more
highly pleased with excess and inequality in poetic composition, than
with the serene, the placid, and the regular progression of a corrected
imagination. Is it because the mind is satiated with uniformity of any
kind, and that remarkable blemishes, like a few barren fields
interspersed in a landschape give additional lustre to the more
cultivated scenery? Or does it proceed from a propensity in human nature
to be pleased, when we observe a great Genius sometimes sinking as
far below the common level, as at others, he is capable of rising
above it? I confess, that I am inclined to deduce this feeling
more frequently from the former than from the latter of
these causes; though I am afraid that the warmest benevolence
will hardly prevail upon your Lordship not to attribute it in some
instances to a mixture of both.
Whatever
may be in this, it is certain that the Odes of Horace, in which he has
professedly imitated Pindar, are much more correct and faultless than
these of his Master. It would, perhaps, be saying too much, to affirm
with some Critics, that the judgment of the Roman Poet was superior to
that of his Rival; but it is obvious, that the operation of this Faculty
is more remarkable in
m
his writings, because his imagination was more ductile and pliable.
—Upon the whole, therefore, we shall not do injustice to these two
great men, if we assign to their works the same degree of comparative
excellence, which the Italians ascribe to the pieces of Dominichino and
Guido. The former was a great but an unequal Genius; while
the more corrected performances of the latter were animated by the
Graces, and touched by the pencil of Elegance97.
I am
afraid, that your Lordship is now thinking it high time to bring the
whole of this detail to a period.—— Upon reviewing the
observations made on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients through the
preceding part of this Essay,
you will find that the subject has been considered under the three
following heads. In the first part I have attempted to lay before your
Lordship, the state of Lyric Poetry in the earliest ages, as it appears
from what we can collect either of the character of the writings of
Amphion, Linus, Orpheus, Museus, and Hesiod. In the course of this
enquiry I have had occasion to assign the causes, whose concurrence
rendered this branch of the poetic Art less perfect at its first
introduction than any of the other species. —Upon advancing a
little further, a richer and more diversified prospect opened to the
imagination. In the first dawn of this more enlightened period,
we meet with the names of Alcaeus and Sappho, who, without altering
the original character of the Ode, made a considerable change on
the subjects to which it was appropriated; and in the full
meridian of Science, we find this second form of Lyric Poetry
brought to its highest perfection in the writings of Horace. —Some
remarks on the nature of those beauties which are peculiarly
characteristic of the higher species of the Ode, and on the part
which Imagination particularly claims in its composition, led me to
mention, a few rules, the exact observation of which will, perhaps,
contribute to render this species of poetry more correct and regular,
without retrenching any part of its discriminating beauties, and
without straitning too much the Genius of the Poet. With this view I
m2
have endeavoured to characterize impartially the pindaric manner, by
pointing out its excellencies, by enumerating its defects,
and by enquiring from what particular causes the latter are to be
deduced.
I consider
it, my Lord, as a circumstance particularly agreeable on the present
occasion, that the Persons who are most capable to observe the
defects of an Author, are likewise commonly the readiest to
excuse them. Little minds, like the fly on the Edifice, will find
many inequalities in particular members of a work, which an
enlarged understanding either overlooks as insignificant, or
contemplates as the mark of human imperfection. I am,
however, far from intending to insinuate, that feelings of this nature
will prevail on your Lordship to consider real blemishes merely as the
effects of an inadvertency, which is excusable in proportion to the
intricacy of a subject. I have been induced to throw together the
preceding remarks, with an intention to rescue Lyric Poetry from the
contempt in which it has been unjustly held by Authors of unquestioned
penetration, to prove that it is naturally susceptible of the highest
poetic beauty; and that under proper regulations, it may be made
subservient to purposes as beneficial as any other branch of the Art.
These facts will indeed be sufficiently obvious to persons unacquainted
with the Ancients, by perusing the works of eminent Poets of the
present age, whose names it
would be superfluous to mention. I dismiss this attempt, and the
pieces which accompany it, to the judgment of the public, with that
timidity and diffidence which the review of so many great names, and the
sense of Inexperience are fitted to inspire. Whatever may be the fate of
either, I shall remember, with pleasure, that they have afforded me
an opportunity of testifying that high and respectful esteem, with which
I have the Honour to be,
|
MY LORD,
YOUR LORDSHIP’s
MOST OBLIGED,
AND MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT,
|
The facsimile of the title page includes
two handwritten lines between “Lord Deskfoord” and the author’s
name:
The last Earl of Findlater who died 1812 without iſsue
Title claimed by Sir Wm Ogilvie Bart of Carnousie, who
died Feb 20th 1861
The two lines were probably written at different times: the first
uses
long “s” while the second had to have been written in or after 1861. The
underlined year “1812” is an error for 1811 (October). The William
Ogilvie (more often spelled Ogilvy) of the second line was born in 1810,
so his claim to the title cannot have been immediate. He does not appear
to have been related to the book’s author.
The quotation from Gravina (misspelled Gavina), Della
Tragedia, is given exactly as printed in note
97, including clear errors. The passage appears in the 1819 Opere
Scelte (Selected Works) as:
Né ci dobbiamo maravigliare, se corrotta la poesia, si è anche corrotta
la musica: perché, come nella Ragion Poetica accennammo, tutte le arti
imitative hanno una idea comune, dalla cui alterazione si alterano
tutte; e particolarmente la musica dall’ alterazion della poesia si
cangia, come dal corpo l’ombra. Onde corrotta la poesia dai soverchi
ornamenti e dalla copia delle figure, ha comunicato il suo morbo anche
alla musica, ormai tanto figurata, che ha perduta quasi la natural
espressione.
Greek
The printed Greek used no diacritics, except for the one word ὅς
(including accent) in the Odyssey quotation. All other rough-breathing
marks have been added by the transcriber. Line breaks in verse citations
are as in the original.
The errors are unusual. Instead of confusing similar letters such as
υ and ν, or garbling diacritics, the Greek passages read as if they were
learned orally, and written down from memory. Substitutions of ο for ω
and ι for ε are especially common. The more significant differences
between Ogilvie’s text and “standard” readings are given here.
Aristotle, Poetics 1448b (in notes 3, 5, 6 as
“c. 4”):
Και Ἁρμονια και ρυθμος εξ αρχης
or: τῆς ἁρμονίας καὶ τοῦ ῥυθμοῦ ... ἐξ ἀρχῆς
οἱτινες θηρεων τε μορφας των αγριοτατων και νεκρων
or: οἷον θηρίων τε μορφὰς τῶν ἀτιμοτάτων καὶ νεκρῶν
Τα γαρ μετρα ὁτι μοιρον των ρυθμων ...
or: τὰ γὰρ μέτρα ὅτι μόρια τῶν ῥυθμῶν ...
Plato, Leges 669de (in note 7
as “Lib. XI”):
Μελος δε αυ και ρυθμους ανευ ρηματων
or: μέλος δ’ αὖ καὶ ῥυθμὸν ἄνευ ῥημάτων
Hesiod, Theogony 31 (in note
31 as l. 63):
Δρεψασθαι θηητον· επενευσαν δε μοι αυδην
or: δρέψασαι, θηητόν· ἐνέπνευσαν δέ μοι αὐδὴν
Aristotle, Poetics 1449a (in note
52 as “c. 4”):
... οἱ δε αντι των Επων τραγωδιδασκαλοι, δια τω μειζω και ενεμοτερα τα
σχηματα ειναι ...
or: ... οἱ δὲ ἀντὶ τῶν ἐπῶν τραγῳδοδιδάσκαλοι, διὰ τὸ μείζω καὶ
ἐντιμότερα τὰ σχήματα εἶναι ...
Callimachus I. 68-69 (body text and
note 63):
Θηκαο δ’ οιωνον μεγ’ ὑπειροχον αγγελεωτην,
Σων τεραων‧ ἁτ’ εμοισι φιλοις ενδεξια φαινοις
or:
θήκαο δ’ οἰωνῶν μέγ’ ὑπείροχον ἀγγελιώτην
σῶν τεράων‧ ἅ τ’ ἐμοῖσι φίλοις ἐνδέξια φαίνοι
Iliad VIII. 438-443 (body text and
note 65):
Ζευς δε Πατηρ ιδηθεν ευτροχον ἁρμα και ἱππους
Ολυμπονδ’ εδιωκε, θεων δ’ εξεκετο θωκους.
Τω δε και ἱππους μεν λυσε κλυτος Εννοσιγαιος
Ἁρματα δ’ αμβρωμοισι τιθει, κατα λιτα πετασσας.
Αυτος δε χρυσειον επι θρωνον ευρυοπα Ζευς
Ἑζετο, τω δε ὑπο ποσσι μεγας πελεμιζετ’ Ολυμπος.
or:
Ζεὺς δὲ πατὴρ Ἴδηθεν ἐύ̈τροχον ἅρμα καὶ ἵππους
Οὔλυμπον δὲ δίωκε, θεῶν δ’ ἐξίκετο θώκους.
τῷ δὲ καὶ ἵππους μὲν λῦσε κλυτὸς ἐννοσίγαιος,
ἅρματα δ’ ἂμ βωμοῖσι τίθει κατὰ λῖτα πετάσσας:
αὐτὸς δὲ χρύσειον ἐπὶ θρόνον εὐρύοπα Ζεὺς
ἕζετο, τῷ δ’ ὑπὸ ποσσὶ μέγας πελεμίζετ’ Ὄλυμπος.
Pindar, Pythian I. 33 (note
69):
ναυσιφορηταις δ’ αδρασεα
or: ναυσιφορήτοις δ’ ἀνδράσι
Aristotle, Poetics 1455a (in note
79 as “c. 17”):
Δει δε τους μυθους συνισταναι, και τη λεξει συναπεργαζεσθαι οντι μαλιστα
προς ομματων τεθεμενον. Οὑτο γαρ αν’ εναργεστατα ὁρων ὡσπερ παρ αυτοις
γιγνομενος τοις πραττομενοις, εὑρισκοι το πρεπον, και ἡκιστα αν’
λανθανοιτο τα ὑπεναντια.
or: δεῖ δὲ τοὺς μύθους συνιστάναι καὶ τῇ λέξει συναπεργάζεσθαι
ὅτι μάλιστα πρὸ ὀμμάτων τιθέμενον: οὕτω γὰρ ἂν ἐναργέστατα [ὁ] ὁρῶν
ὥσπερ παρ’ αὐτοῖς γιγνόμενος τοῖς πραττομένοις εὑρίσκοι τὸ πρέπον καὶ
ἥκιστα ἂν λανθάνοι [τὸ] τὰ ὑπεναντία.