Book IV.

ODES ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS:--

Book I.--

Ode I. Preface.

Ode II. On the Winter-solstice, 1740.

Ode II. For the Winter-solstice, December 11, 1740.

As originally written.

Ode III. To a Friend, Unsuccessful in Love.

Ode IV. Affected Indifference. To the same.

Ode V. Against Suspicion.

Ode VI. Hymn to Cheerfulness.

Ode VII. On the Use of Poetry.

Ode VIII. On leaving Holland.

Ode IX. To Curio.

Ode X. To the Muse.

Ode XI. On Love. To a Friend.

Ode XII. To Sir Francis Henry Drake, Baronet.

Ode XIII. On Lyric Poetry.

Ode XIV. To the Honourable Charles Townshend; from the

Country.

Ode XV. To the Evening Star.

Ode XVI. To Caleb Hardinge, M. D.

Ode XVII. On a Sermon against Glory.

Ode XVIII. To the Right Honourable Francis, Earl of Huntingdon.

Book II.--

Ode I. The Remonstrance of Shakspeare.

Ode II. To Sleep.

Ode III. To the Cuckoo.

Ode IV. To the Honourable Charles Townshend; in the Country.

Ode V. On Love of Praise.

Ode VI. To William Hall, Esquire; with the Works of

Chaulieu.

Ode VII. To the Right Reverend Benjamin, Lord Bishop of

Winchester.

Ode VIII.

Ode IX. At Study.

Ode X. To Thomas Edwards, Esq.; on the late Edition

of Mr. Pope's Works.

Ode XI. To the Country Gentlemen of England.

Ode XII. On Recovering from a Fit of Sickness; in the

Country.

Ode XIII. To the Author of Memoirs of the House of Brandenburg.

Ode XIV. The Complaint.

Ode XV. On Domestic Manners.

Notes to Book I.

Notes to Book II.

HYMN TO THE NAIADS.

Notes.

INSCRIPTIONS:--

I. For a Grotto.

II. For a Statue of Chaucer at Woodstock.

III.

IV.

V.

VI. For a Column at Runnymede.

VII. The Wood Nymph.

VIII.

IX.

AN EPISTLE TO CURIO.

THE VIRTUOSO.

AMBITION AND CONTENT. A FABLE.

THE POET. A RHAPSODY.

A BRITISH PHILIPPIC.

HYMN TO SCIENCE.

LOVE. AN ELEGY.

TO CORDELIA.

SONG.

AKENSIDE'S POETICAL WORKS.

THE PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION.

A POEM, IN THREE BOOKS.

[Greek: 'Asebous men 'estin 'anthropou tas para tou theou

charitas 'atimazein.]

EPICT. apud Arrian. II. 23.

THE DESIGN.

There are certain powers in human nature which seem to hold a middle

place between the organs of bodily sense and the faculties of moral

perception: they have been called by a very general name, the Powers

of Imagination. Like the external senses, they relate to matter and

motion; and, at the same time, give the mind ideas analogous to

those of moral approbation and dislike. As they are the inlets of

some of the most exquisite pleasures with which we are acquainted,

it has naturally happened that men of warm and sensible tempers have

sought means to recall the delightful perceptions which they afford,

independent of the objects which originally produced them. This gave

rise to the imitative or designing arts; some of which, as painting

and sculpture, directly copy the external appearances which were

admired in nature; others, as music and poetry, bring them back to

remembrance by signs universally established and understood.

But these arts, as they grew more correct and deliberate, were, of

course, led to extend their imitation beyond the peculiar objects of

the imaginative powers; especially poetry, which, making use of

language as the instrument by which it imitates, is consequently

become an unlimited representative of every species and mode of being.

Yet as their intention was only to express the objects of imagination,

and as they still abound chiefly in ideas of that class, they, of

course, retain their original character; and all the different

pleasures which they excite, are termed, in general, Pleasures of

Imagination.

The design of the following poem is to give a view of these in the

largest acceptation of the term; so that whatever our imagination

feels from the agreeable appearances of nature, and all the various

entertainment we meet with, either in poetry, painting, music, or

any of the elegant arts, might be deducible from one or other of

those principles in the constitution of the human mind which are

here established and explained.

In executing this general plan, it was necessary first of all to

distinguish the imagination from our other faculties; and in the

next place to characterise those original forms or properties of

being, about which it is conversant, and which are by nature adapted

to it, as light is to the eyes, or truth to the understanding. These

properties Mr. Addison had reduced to the three general classes of

greatness, novelty, and beauty; and into these we may analyse every

object, however complex, which, properly speaking, is delightful to

the imagination. But such an object may also include many other

sources of pleasure; and its beauty, or novelty, or grandeur, will

make a stronger impression by reason of this concurrence. Besides

which, the imitative arts, especially poetry, owe much of their

effect to a similar exhibition of properties quite foreign to the

imagination, insomuch that in every line of the most applauded poems,

we meet with either ideas drawn from the external senses, or truths

discovered to the understanding, or illustrations of contrivance and

final causes, or, above all the rest, with circumstances proper to

awaken and engage the passions. It was, therefore, necessary to

enumerate and exemplify these different species of pleasure;

especially that from the passions, which, as it is supreme in the

noblest work of human genius, so being in some particulars not a

little surprising, gave an opportunity to enliven the didactic turn

of the poem, by introducing an allegory to account for the appearance.

After these parts of the subject which hold chiefly of admiration,

or naturally warm and interest the mind, a pleasure of a very

different nature, that which arises from ridicule, came next to be

considered. As this is the foundation of the comic manner in all the

arts, and has been but very imperfectly treated by moral writers, it

was thought proper to give it a particular illustration, and to

distinguish the general sources from which the ridicule of

characters is derived. Here, too, a change of style became necessary;

such a one as might yet be consistent, if possible, with the general

taste of composition in the serious parts of the subject: nor is it

an easy task to give any tolerable force to images of this kind,

without running either into the gigantic expressions of the mock

heroic, or the familiar and poetical raillery of professed satire;

neither of which would have been proper here.

The materials of all imitation being thus laid open, nothing now

remained but to illustrate some particular pleasures which arise

either from the relations of different objects one to another, or

from the nature of imitation itself. Of the first kind is that

various and complicated resemblance existing between several parts

of the material and immaterial worlds, which is the foundation of

metaphor and wit. As it seems in a great measure to depend on the

early association of our ideas, and as this habit of associating is

the source of many pleasures and pains in life, and on that account

bears a great share in the influence of poetry and the other arts,

it is therefore mentioned here, and its effects described. Then

follows a general account of the production of these elegant arts,

and of the secondary pleasure, as it is called, arising from the

resemblance of their imitations to the original appearances of nature.

After which, the work concludes with some reflections on the general

conduct of the powers of imagination, and on their natural and moral

usefulness in life.

Concerning the manner or turn of composition which prevails in this

piece, little can be said with propriety by the author. He had two

models; that ancient and simple one of the first Grecian poets, as

it is refined by Virgil in the Georgics, and the familiar epistolary

way of Horace. This latter has several advantages. It admits of a

greater variety of style; it more readily engages the generality of

readers, as partaking more of the air of conversation; and,

especially with the assistance of rhyme, leads to a closer and more

concise expression. Add to this the example of the most perfect of

modern poets, who has so happily applied this manner to the noblest

parts of philosophy, that the public taste is in a great measure

formed to it alone. Yet, after all, the subject before us, tending

almost constantly to admiration and enthusiasm, seemed rather to

demand a more open, pathetic, and figured style. This, too, appeared

more natural, as the author's aim was not so much to give formal

precepts, or enter into the way of direct argumentation, as, by

exhibiting the most engaging prospects of nature, to enlarge and

harmonise the imagination, and by that means insensibly dispose the

minds of men to a similar taste and habit of thinking in religion,

morals, and civil life. 'Tis on this account that he is so careful

to point out the benevolent intention of the Author of Nature in

every principle of the human constitution here insisted on; and also

to unite the moral excellencies of life in the same point of view

with the mere external objects of good taste; thus recommending them

in common to our natural propensity for admiring what is beautiful

and lovely. The same views have also led him to introduce some

sentiments which may perhaps be looked upon as not quite direct to

the subject; but since they bear an obvious relation to it, the

authority of Virgil, the faultless model of didactic poetry, will

best support him in this particular. For the sentiments themselves

he makes no apology.

BOOK I.

ARGUMENT.

The subject proposed. Difficulty of treating it poetically. The

ideas of the Divine Mind the origin of every quality pleasing to the

imagination. The natural variety of constitution in the minds of men;

with its final cause. The idea of a fine imagination, and the state

of the mind in the enjoyment of those pleasures which it affords.

All the primary pleasures of the imagination result from the

perception of greatness, or wonderfulness, or beauty in objects. The

pleasure from greatness, with its final cause. Pleasure from novelty

or wonderfulness, with its final cause. Pleasure from beauty, with

its final cause. The connexion of beauty with truth and good,

applied to the conduct of life. Invitation to the study of moral

philosophy. The different degrees of beauty in different species of

objects; colour, shape, natural concretes, vegetables, animals, the

mind. The sublime, the fair, the wonderful of the mind. The

connexion of the imagination and the moral faculty. Conclusion.

With what attractive charms this goodly frame

Of Nature touches the consenting hearts

Of mortal men; and what the pleasing stores

Which beauteous Imitation thence derives

To deck the poet's or the painter's toil,

My verse unfolds. Attend, ye gentle Powers

Of musical delight! and while I sing

Your gifts, your honours, dance around my strain.

Thou, smiling queen of every tuneful breast,

Indulgent Fancy! from the fruitful banks 10

Of Avon, whence thy rosy fingers cull

Fresh flowers and dews to sprinkle on the turf

Where Shakspeare lies, be present: and with thee

Let Fiction come, upon her vagrant wings

Wafting ten thousand colours through the air,

Which, by the glances of her magic eye,

She blends and shifts at will, through countless forms,

Her wild creation. Goddess of the lyre,

Which rules the accents of the moving sphere,

Wilt thou, eternal Harmony, descend 20

And join this festive train? for with thee comes

The guide, the guardian of their lovely sports,

Majestic Truth; and where Truth deigns to come,

Her sister Liberty will not be far.

Be present all ye Genii, who conduct

The wandering footsteps of the youthful bard,

New to your springs and shades: who touch his ear

With finer sounds: who heighten to his eye

The bloom of Nature, and before him turn

The gayest, happiest attitude of things. 30

Oft have the laws of each poetic strain

The critic-verse employ'd; yet still unsung

Lay this prime subject, though importing most

A poet's name: for fruitless is the attempt,

By dull obedience and by creeping toil

Obscure to conquer the severe ascent

Of high Parnassus. Nature's kindling breath

Must fire the chosen genius; Nature's hand

Must string his nerves, and imp his eagle-wings,

Impatient of the painful steep, to soar 40

High as the summit; there to breathe at large

AEthereal air, with bards and sages old,

Immortal sons of praise. These flattering scenes,

To this neglected labour court my song;

Yet not unconscious what a doubtful task

To paint the finest features of the mind,

And to most subtile and mysterious things

Give colour, strength, and motion. But the love

Of Nature and the Muses bids explore,

Through secret paths erewhile untrod by man, 50

The fair poetic region, to detect

Untasted springs, to drink inspiring draughts,

And shade my temples with unfading flowers

Cull'd from the laureate vale's profound recess,

Where never poet gain'd a wreath before.

From Heaven my strains begin: from Heaven descends

The flame of genius to the human breast,

And love and beauty, and poetic joy

And inspiration. Ere the radiant sun

Sprang from the east, or 'mid the vault of night 60

The moon suspended her serener lamp;

Ere mountains, woods, or streams adorn'd the globe,

Or Wisdom taught the sons of men her lore;

Then lived the Almighty One: then, deep retired

In his unfathom'd essence, view'd the forms,

The forms eternal of created things;

The radiant sun, the moon's nocturnal lamp,

The mountains, woods, and streams, the rolling globe,

And Wisdom's mien celestial. From the first

Of days, on them his love divine he fix'd, 70

His admiration: till in time complete

What he admired and loved, his vital smile

Unfolded into being. Hence the breath

Of life informing each organic frame;

Hence the green earth, and wild resounding wares;

Hence light and shade alternate, warmth and cold,

And clear autumnal skies and vernal showers,

And all the fair variety of things.

But not alike to every mortal eye

Is this great scene unveil'd. For, since the claims 80

Of social life to different labours urge

The active powers of man, with wise intent

The hand of Nature on peculiar minds

Imprints a different bias, and to each

Decrees its province in the common toil.

To some she taught the fabric of the sphere,

The changeful moon, the circuit of the stars,

The golden zones of heaven; to some she gave

To weigh the moment of eternal things,

Of time, and space, and fate's unbroken chain, 90

And will's quick impulse; others by the hand

She led o'er vales and mountains, to explore

What healing virtue swells the tender veins

Of herbs and flowers; or what the beams of morn

Draw forth, distilling from the clifted rind

In balmy tears. But some, to higher hopes

Were destined; some within a finer mould

She wrought and temper'd with a purer flame.

To these the Sire Omnipotent unfolds

The world's harmonious volume, there to read 100

The transcript of Himself. On every part

They trace the bright impressions of his hand:

In earth or air, the meadow's purple stores,

The moon's mild radiance, or the virgin's form

Blooming with rosy smiles, they see portray'd

That uncreated beauty, which delights

The Mind Supreme. They also feel her charms,

Enamour'd; they partake the eternal joy.

For as old Memnon's image, long renown'd

By fabling Nilus, to the quivering touch 110

Of Titan's ray, with each repulsive string

Consenting, sounded through the warbling air

Unbidden strains, even so did Nature's hand

To certain species of external things,

Attune the finer organs of the mind;

So the glad impulse of congenial powers,

Or of sweet sound, or fair proportion'd form,

The grace of motion, or the bloom of light,

Thrills through Imagination's tender frame,

From nerve to nerve; all naked and alive 120

They catch the spreading rays; till now the soul

At length discloses every tuneful spring,

To that harmonious movement from without

Responsive. Then the inexpressive strain

Diffuses its enchantment: Fancy dreams

Of sacred fountains and Elysian groves,

And vales of bliss: the intellectual power

Bends from his awful throne a wondering ear,

And smiles: the passions, gently soothed away,

Sink to divine repose, and love and joy 130

Alone are waking; love and joy, serene

As airs that fan the summer. Oh! attend,

Whoe'er thou art, whom these delights can touch,

Whose candid bosom the refining love

Of Nature warms, oh! listen to my song;

And I will guide thee to her favourite walks,

And teach thy solitude her voice to hear,

And point her loveliest features to thy view.

Know then, whate'er of Nature's pregnant stores,

Whate'er of mimic Art's reflected forms 140

With love and admiration thus inflame

The powers of Fancy, her delighted sons

To three illustrious orders have referr'd;

Three sister graces, whom the painter's hand,

The poet's tongue confesses--the Sublime,

The Wonderful, the Fair. I see them dawn!

I see the radiant visions, where they rise,

More lovely than when Lucifer displays

His beaming forehead through the gates of morn,

To lead the train of Phoebus and the spring. 150

Say, why was man [Endnote A] so eminently raised

Amid the vast Creation; why ordain'd

Through life and death to dart his piercing eye,

With thoughts beyond the limit of his frame;

But that the Omnipotent might send him forth

In sight of mortal and immortal powers,

As on a boundless theatre, to run

The great career of justice; to exalt

His generous aim to all diviner deeds;

To chase each partial purpose from his breast; 160

And through the mists of passion and of sense,

And through the tossing tide of chance and pain,

To hold his course unfaltering, while the voice

Of truth and virtue, up the steep ascent

Of nature, calls him to his high reward,

The applauding smile of Heaven? Else wherefore burns

In mortal bosoms this unquenched hope,

That breathes from day to day sublimer things,

And mocks possession? Wherefore darts the mind,

With such resistless ardour to embrace 170

Majestic forms; impatient to be free,

Spurning the gross control of wilful might;

Proud of the strong contention of her toils;

Proud to be daring? Who but rather turns

To heaven's broad fire his unconstrained view, 175

Than to the glimmering of a waxen flame?

Who that, from Alpine heights, his labouring eye

Shoots round the wide horizon, to survey

Nilus or Ganges rolling his bright wave

Through mountains, plains, through empires black with shade, 180

And continents of sand, will turn his gaze

To mark the windings of a scanty rill

That murmurs at his feet? The high-born soul

Disdains to rest her heaven-aspiring wing

Beneath its native quarry. Tired of earth

And this diurnal scene, she springs aloft

Through fields of air; pursues the flying storm;

Rides on the vollied lightning through the heavens;

Or, yoked with whirlwinds and the northern blast,

Sweeps the long tract of day. Then high she soars 190

The blue profound, and hovering round the sun

Beholds him pouring the redundant stream

Of light; beholds his unrelenting sway

Bend the reluctant planets to absolve

The fated rounds of Time. Thence far effused

She darts her swiftness up the long career

Of devious comets; through its burning signs

Exulting measures the perennial wheel

Of Nature, and looks back on all the stars,

Whose blended light, as with a milky zone, 200

Invests the orient. Now amazed she views

The empyreal waste, [Endnote B] where happy spirits hold,

Beyond this concave heaven, their calm abode;

And fields of radiance, whose unfading light [Endnote C]

Has travell'd the profound six thousand years,

Nor yet arrives in sight of mortal things.

Even on the barriers of the world untired

She meditates the eternal depth below; 208

Till, half recoiling, down the headlong steep

She plunges; soon o'erwhelm'd and swallow'd up

In that immense of being. There her hopes

Rest at the fated goal. For from the birth

Of mortal man, the Sovereign Maker said,

That not in humble nor in brief delight,

Not in the fading echoes of renown,

Power's purple robes, nor pleasure's flowery lap,

The soul should find enjoyment: but from these

Turning disdainful to an equal good,

Through all the ascent of things enlarge her view,

Till every bound at length should disappear, 220

And infinite perfection close the scene.

Call now to mind what high capacious powers

Lie folded up in man; how far beyond

The praise of mortals, may the eternal growth

Of Nature to perfection half divine,

Expand the blooming soul! What pity then

Should sloth's unkindly fogs depress to earth

Her tender blossom; choke the streams of life,

And blast her spring! Far otherwise design'd

Almighty Wisdom; Nature's happy cares 230

The obedient heart far otherwise incline.

Witness the sprightly joy when aught unknown

Strikes the quick sense, and wakes each active power

To brisker measures: witness the neglect

Of all familiar prospects, [Endnote D] though beheld

With transport once; the fond attentive gaze

Of young astonishment; the sober zeal

Of age, commenting on prodigious things.

For such the bounteous providence of Heaven,

In every breast implanting this desire 240

Of objects new and strange, [Endnote E] to urge us on

With unremitted labour to pursue

Those sacred stores that wait the ripening soul,

In Truth's exhaustless bosom. What need words

To paint its power? For this the daring youth

Breaks from his weeping mother's anxious arms,

In foreign climes to rove; the pensive sage,

Heedless of sleep, or midnight's harmful damp,

Hangs o'er the sickly taper; and untired

The virgin follows, with enchanted step, 250

The mazes of some wild and wondrous tale,

From morn to eve; unmindful of her form,

Unmindful of the happy dress that stole

The wishes of the youth, when every maid

With envy pined. Hence, finally, by night

The village matron, round the blazing hearth,

Suspends the infant audience with her tales,

Breathing astonishment! of witching rhymes,

And evil spirits; of the death-bed call

Of him who robb'd the widow, and devour'd 260

The orphan's portion; of unquiet souls

Risen from the grave to ease the heavy guilt

Of deeds in life conceal'd; of shapes that walk

At dead of night, and clank their chains, and wave

The torch of hell around the murderer's bed.

At every solemn pause the crowd recoil,

Gazing each other speechless, and congeal'd

With shivering sighs: till eager for the event,

Around the beldame all erect they hang,

Each trembling heart with grateful terrors quell'd. 270

But lo! disclosed in all her smiling pomp,

Where Beauty onward moving claims the verse

Her charms inspire: the freely-flowing verse

In thy immortal praise, O form divine,

Smooths her mellifluent stream. Thee, Beauty, thee

The regal dome, and thy enlivening ray

The mossy roofs adore: thou, better sun!

For ever beamest on the enchanted heart

Love, and harmonious wonder, and delight

Poetic. Brightest progeny of Heaven! 280

How shall I trace thy features? where select

The roseate hues to emulate thy bloom?

Haste then, my song, through Nature's wide expanse,

Haste then, and gather all her comeliest wealth,

Whate'er bright spoils the florid earth contains,

Whate'er the waters, or the liquid air,

To deck thy lovely labour. Wilt thou fly

With laughing Autumn to the Atlantic isles,

And range with him the Hesperian field, and see

Where'er his fingers touch the fruitful grove, 290

The branches shoot with gold; where'er his step

Marks the glad soil, the tender clusters grow

With purple ripeness, and invest each hill

As with the blushes of an evening sky?

Or wilt thou rather stoop thy vagrant plume,

Where gliding through his daughters honour'd shades,

The smooth Penéus from his glassy flood

Reflects purpureal Tempo's pleasant scene?

Fair Tempe! haunt beloved of sylvan Powers,

Of Nymphs and Fauns; where in the golden age 300

They play'd in secret on the shady brink

With ancient Pan: while round their choral steps

Young Hours and genial Gales with constant hand

Shower'd blossoms, odours, shower'd ambrosial dews,

And spring's Elysian bloom. Her flowery store

To thee nor Tempe shall refuse; nor watch

Of winged Hydra guard Hesperian fruits

From thy free spoil. Oh, bear then, unreproved,

Thy smiling treasures to the green recess

Where young Dione stays. With sweetest airs 310

Entice her forth to lend her angel form

For Beauty's honour'd image. Hither turn

Thy graceful footsteps; hither, gentle maid,

Incline thy polish'd forehead: let thy eyes

Effuse the mildness of their azure dawn;

And may the fanning breezes waft aside

Thy radiant locks: disclosing, as it bends

With airy softness from the marble neck,

The cheek fair-blooming, and the rosy lip,

Where winning smiles and pleasures sweet as love, 320

With sanctity and wisdom, tempering blend

Their soft allurement. Then the pleasing force

Of Nature, and her kind parental care

Worthier I'd sing: then all the enamour'd youth,

With each admiring virgin, to my lyre

Should throng attentive, while I point on high

Where Beauty's living image, like the Morn

That wakes in Zephyr's arms the blushing May,

Moves onward; or as Venus, when she stood

Effulgent on the pearly car, and smiled, 330

Fresh from the deep, and conscious of her form,

To see the Tritons tune their vocal shells,

And each cerulean sister of the flood

With loud acclaim attend her o'er the waves,

To seek the Idalian bower. Ye smiling band

Of youths and virgins, who through all the maze

Of young desire with rival steps pursue

This charm of Beauty, if the pleasing toil

Can yield a moment's respite, hither turn

Your favourable ear, and trust my words. 340

I do not mean to wake the gloomy form

Of Superstition dress'd in Wisdom's garb,

To damp your tender hopes; I do not mean

To bid the jealous thunderer fire the heavens,

Or shapes infernal rend the groaning earth

To fright you from your joys: my cheerful song

With better omens calls you to the field,

Pleased with your generous ardour in the chase,

And warm like you. Then tell me, for ye know,

Does Beauty ever deign to dwell where health 350

And active use are strangers? Is her charm

Confess'd in aught, whose most peculiar ends

Are lame and fruitless? Or did Nature mean

This pleasing call the herald of a lie,

To hide the shame of discord and disease,

And catch with fair hypocrisy the heart

Of idle faith? Oh, no! with better cares

The indulgent mother, conscious how infirm

Her offspring tread the paths of good and ill,

By this illustrious image, in each kind 360

Still most illustrious where the object holds

Its native powers most perfect, she by this

Illumes the headstrong impulse of desire,

And sanctifies his choice. The generous glebe

Whose bosom smiles with verdure, the clear tract

Of streams delicious to the thirsty soul,

The bloom of nectar'd fruitage ripe to sense,

And every charm of animated things,

Are only pledges of a state sincere,

The integrity and order of their frame, 370

When all is well within, and every end

Accomplish'd. Thus was Beauty sent from heaven,

The lovely ministries of Truth and Good

In this dark world: for Truth and Good are one,

And Beauty dwells in them, [Endnote F] and they in her,

With like participation. Wherefore then,

O sons of earth! would ye dissolve the tie?

Oh! wherefore, with a rash impetuous aim,

Seek ye those flowery joys with which the hand

Of lavish Fancy paints each flattering scene 380

Where Beauty seems to dwell, nor once inquire

Where is the sanction of eternal Truth,

Or where the seal of undeceitful Good,

To save your search from folly! Wanting these,

Lo! Beauty withers in your void embrace,

And with the glittering of an idiot's toy

Did Fancy mock your vows. Nor let the gleam

Of youthful hope that shines upon your hearts,

Be chill'd or clouded at this awful task,

To learn the lore of undeceitful Good, 390

And Truth eternal. Though the poisonous charms

Of baleful Superstition guide the feet

Of servile numbers, through a dreary way

To their abode, through deserts, thorns, and mire;

And leave the wretched pilgrim all forlorn

To muse at last, amid the ghostly gloom

Of graves, and hoary vaults, and cloister'd cells;

To walk with spectres through the midnight shade,

And to the screaming owl's accursed song

Attune the dreadful workings of his heart; 400

Yet be not ye dismay'd. A gentler star

Your lovely search illumines. From the grove

Where Wisdom talk'd with her Athenian sons,

Could my ambitious hand entwine a wreath

Of Plato's olive with the Mantuan bay,

Then should my powerful verse at once dispel

Those monkish horrors: then in light divine

Disclose the Elysian prospect, where the steps

Of those whom Nature charms, through blooming walks,

Through fragrant mountains and poetic streams, 410

Amid the train of sages, heroes, bards,

Led by their winged Genius, and the choir

Of laurell'd science and harmonious art,

Proceed exulting to the eternal shrine,

Where Truth conspicuous with her sister-twins,

The undivided partners of her sway,

With Good and Beauty reigns. Oh, let not us,

Lull'd by luxurious Pleasure's languid strain,

Or crouching to the frowns of bigot rage,

Oh, let us not a moment pause to join 420

That godlike band. And if the gracious Power

Who first awaken'd my untutor'd song,

Will to my invocation breathe anew

The tuneful spirit; then through all our paths,

Ne'er shall the sound of this devoted lyre

Be wanting; whether on the rosy mead,

When summer smiles, to warn the melting heart

Of luxury's allurement; whether firm

Against the torrent and the stubborn hill

To urge bold Virtue's unremitted nerve, 430

And wake the strong divinity of soul

That conquers chance and fate; or whether struck

For sounds of triumph, to proclaim her toils

Upon the lofty summit, round her brow

To twine the wreath of incorruptive praise;

To trace her hallow'd light through future worlds,

And bless Heaven's image in the heart of man.

Thus with a faithful aim have we presumed,

Adventurous, to delineate Nature's form;

Whether in vast, majestic pomp array'd, 440

Or dress'd for pleasing wonder, or serene

In Beauty's rosy smile. It now remains,

Through various being's fair proportion'd scale,

To trace the rising lustre of her charms,

From their first twilight, shining forth at length

To full meridian splendour. Of degree

The least and lowliest, in the effusive warmth

Of colours mingling with a random blaze,

Doth Beauty dwell. Then higher in the line

And variation of determined shape, 450

Where Truth's eternal measures mark the bound

Of circle, cube, or sphere. The third ascent

Unites this varied symmetry of parts

With colour's bland allurement; as the pearl

Shines in the concave of its azure bed,

And painted shells indent their speckled wreath.

Then more attractive rise the blooming forms

Through which the breath of Nature has infused

Her genial power to draw with pregnant veins

Nutritious moisture from the bounteous earth, 460

In fruit and seed prolific: thus the flowers

Their purple honours with the Spring resume;

And such the stately tree which Autumn bends

With blushing treasures. But more lovely still

Is Nature's charm, where to the full consent

Of complicated members, to the bloom

Of colour, and the vital change of growth,

Life's holy flame and piercing sense are given,

And active motion speaks the temper'd soul:

So moves the bird of Juno; so the steed 470

With rival ardour beats the dusty plain,

And faithful dogs with eager airs of joy

Salute their fellows. Thus doth Beauty dwell

There most conspicuous, even in outward shape,

Where dawns the high expression of a mind:

By steps conducting our enraptured search

To that eternal origin, whose power,

Through all the unbounded symmetry of things,

Like rays effulging from the parent sun,

This endless mixture of her charms diffused. 480

Mind, mind alone, (bear witness, earth and heaven!)

The living fountains in itself contains

Of beauteous and sublime: here hand in hand,

Sit paramount the Graces; here enthroned,

Celestial Venus, with divinest airs,

Invites the soul to never-fading joy.

Look then abroad through nature, to the range

Of planets, suns, and adamantine spheres

Wheeling unshaken through the void immense;

And speak, O man! does this capacious scene 490

With half that kindling majesty dilate

Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose [Endnote G]

Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's fate,

Amid the crowd of patriots; and his arm

Aloft extending, like eternal Jove

When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud

On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel,

And bade the father of his country, hail!

For lo! the tyrant prostrate on the dust,

And Rome again is free! Is aught so fair 500

In all the dewy landscapes of the Spring,

In the bright eye of Hesper, or the morn,

In Nature's fairest forms, is aught so fair

As virtuous friendship? as the candid blush

Of him who strives with fortune to be just?

The graceful tear that streams for others' woes?

Or the mild majesty of private life,

Where Peace with ever blooming olive crowns

The gate; where Honour's liberal hands effuse

Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings 510

Of Innocence and Love protect the scene?

Once more search, undismay'd, the dark profound

Where Nature works in secret; view the beds

Of mineral treasure, and the eternal vault

That bounds the hoary ocean; trace the forms

Of atoms moving with incessant change

Their elemental round; behold the seeds

Of being, and the energy of life

Kindling the mass with ever-active flame;

Then to the secrets of the working mind 520

Attentive turn; from dim oblivion call

Her fleet, ideal band; and bid them, go!

Break through time's barrier, and o'ertake the hour

That saw the heavens created: then declare

If aught were found in those external scenes

To move thy wonder now. For what are all

The forms which brute, unconscious matter wears,

Greatness of bulk, or symmetry of parts?

Not reaching to the heart, soon feeble grows

The superficial impulse; dull their charms, 530

And satiate soon, and pall the languid eye.

Not so the moral species, nor the powers

Of genius and design; the ambitious mind

There sees herself: by these congenial forms

Touch'd and awaken'd, with intenser act

She bends each nerve, and meditates well pleased

Her features in the mirror. For, of all

The inhabitants of earth, to man alone

Creative Wisdom gave to lift his eye

To Truth's eternal measures; thence to frame 540

The sacred laws of action and of will,

Discerning justice from unequal deeds,

And temperance from folly. But beyond

This energy of Truth, whose dictates bind

Assenting reason, the benignant Sire,

To deck the honour'd paths of just and good,

Has added bright Imagination's rays:

Where Virtue, rising from the awful depth

Of Truth's mysterious bosom, [Endnote H] doth forsake

The unadorn'd condition of her birth; 550

And dress'd by Fancy in ten thousand hues,

Assumes a various feature, to attract,

With charms responsive to each gazer's eye,

The hearts of men. Amid his rural walk,

The ingenuous youth, whom solitude inspires

With purest wishes, from the pensive shade

Beholds her moving, like a virgin muse

That wakes her lyre to some indulgent theme

Of harmony and wonder: while among

The herd of servile minds, her strenuous form 560

Indignant flashes on the patriot's eye,

And through the rolls of memory appeals

To ancient honour; or in act serene,

Yet watchful, raises the majestic sword

Of public Power, from dark Ambition's reach

To guard the sacred volume of the laws.

Genius of ancient Greece! whose faithful steps

Well pleased I follow through the sacred paths

Of Nature and of Science; nurse divine

Of all heroic deeds and fair desires! 570

Oh! let the breath of thy extended praise

Inspire my kindling bosom to the height

Of this untempted theme. Nor be my thoughts

Presumptuous counted, if, amid the calm

That soothes this vernal evening into smiles,

I steal impatient from the sordid haunts

Of strife and low ambition, to attend

Thy sacred presence in the sylvan shade,

By their malignant footsteps ne'er profaned.

Descend, propitious, to my favour'd eye! 580

Such in thy mien, thy warm, exalted air,

As when the Persian tyrant, foil'd and stung

With shame and desperation, gnash'd his teeth

To see thee rend the pageants of his throne;

And at the lightning of thy lifted spear

Crouch'd like a slave. Bring all thy martial spoils,

Thy palms, thy laurels, thy triumphal songs,

Thy smiling band of art, thy godlike sires

Of civil wisdom, thy heroic youth

Warm from the schools of glory. Guide my way 590

Through fair Lycéum's [Endnote I] walk, the green retreats

Of Academus, [Endnote J] and the thymy vale,

Where oft enchanted with Socratic sounds,

Ilissus [Endnote K] pure devolved his tuneful stream

In gentler murmurs. From the blooming store

Of these auspicious fields, may I unblamed

Transplant some living blossoms to adorn

My native clime: while far above the flight

Of Fancy's plume aspiring, I unlock

The springs of ancient wisdom! while I join 600

Thy name, thrice honour'd! with the immortal praise

Of Nature; while to my compatriot youth

I point the high example of thy sons,

And tune to Attic themes the British lyre.

BOOK II.

ARGUMENT.

The separation of the works of Imagination from Philosophy, the

cause of their abuse among the moderns. Prospect of their reunion

under the influence of public Liberty. Enumeration of accidental

pleasures, which increase the effect of objects delightful to the

Imagination. The pleasures of sense. Particular circumstances of the

mind. Discovery of truth. Perception of contrivance and design.

Emotion of the passions. All the natural passions partake of a

pleasing sensation; with the final cause of this constitution

illustrated by an allegorical vision, and exemplified in sorrow, pity,

terror, and indignation.

When shall the laurel and the vocal string

Resume their honours? When shall we behold

The tuneful tongue, the Promethéan band

Aspire to ancient praise? Alas! how faint,

How slow the dawn of Beauty and of Truth

Breaks the reluctant shades of Gothic night

Which yet involves the nations! Long they groan'd

Beneath the furies of rapacious force;

Oft as the gloomy north, with iron swarms

Tempestuous pouring from her frozen caves, 10

Blasted the Italian shore, and swept the works

Of Liberty and Wisdom down the gulf

Of all-devouring night. As long immured

In noontide darkness, by the glimmering lamp,

Each Muse and each fair Science pined away

The sordid hours: while foul, barbarian hands

Their mysteries profaned, unstrung the lyre,

And chain'd the soaring pinion down to earth.

At last the Muses rose, [Endnote L] and spurn'd their bonds,

And, wildly warbling, scatter'd as they flew, 20

Their blooming wreaths from fair Valclusa's [Endnote M] bowers

To Arno's [Endnote N] myrtle border and the shore

Of soft Parthenopé. [Endnote O] But still the rage

Of dire ambition [Endnote P] and gigantic power,

From public aims and from the busy walk

Of civil commerce, drove the bolder train

Of penetrating Science to the cells,

Where studious Ease consumes the silent hour

In shadowy searches and unfruitful care.

Thus from their guardians torn, the tender arts [Endnote Q] 30

Of mimic fancy and harmonious joy,

To priestly domination and the lust

Of lawless courts, their amiable toil

For three inglorious ages have resign'd,

In vain reluctant: and Torquato's tongue

Was tuned for slavish pasans at the throne

Of tinsel pomp: and Raphael's magic hand

Effused its fair creation to enchant

The fond adoring herd in Latian fanes

To blind belief; while on their prostrate necks 40

The sable tyrant plants his heel secure.

But now, behold! the radiant era dawns,

When freedom's ample fabric, fix'd at length

For endless years on Albion's happy shore

In full proportion, once more shall extend

To all the kindred powers of social bliss

A common mansion, a parental roof.

There shall the Virtues, there shall Wisdom's train,

Their long-lost friends rejoining, as of old,

Embrace the smiling family of Arts, 50

The Muses and the Graces. Then no more

Shall Vice, distracting their delicious gifts

To aims abhorr'd, with high distaste and scorn

Turn from their charms the philosophic eye,

The patriot bosom; then no more the paths

Of public care or intellectual toil,

Alone by footsteps haughty and severe

In gloomy state be trod: the harmonious Muse

And her persuasive sisters then shall plant

Their sheltering laurels o'er the bleak ascent, 60

And scatter flowers along the rugged way.

Arm'd with the lyre, already have we dared

To pierce divine Philosophy's retreats,

And teach the Muse her lore; already strove

Their long-divided honours to unite,

While tempering this deep argument we sang

Of Truth and Beauty. Now the same glad task

Impends; now urging our ambitious toil,

We hasten to recount the various springs

Of adventitious pleasure, which adjoin 70

Their grateful influence to the prime effect

Of objects grand or beauteous, and enlarge

The complicated joy. The sweets of sense,

Do they not oft with kind accession flow,

To raise harmonious Fancy's native charm?

So while we taste the fragrance of the rose,

Glows not her blush the fairer? While we view

Amid the noontide walk a limpid rill

Gush through the trickling herbage, to the thirst

Of summer yielding the delicious draught 80

Of cool refreshment, o'er the mossy brink

Shines not the surface clearer, and the waves

With sweeter music murmur as they flow?

Nor this alone; the various lot of life

Oft from external circumstance assumes

A moment's disposition to rejoice

In those delights which, at a different hour,

Would pass unheeded. Fair the face of Spring,

When rural songs and odours wake the morn,

To every eye; but how much more to his 90

Round whom the bed of sickness long diffused

Its melancholy gloom! how doubly fair,

When first with fresh-born vigour he inhales

The balmy breeze, and feels the blessed sun

Warm at his bosom, from the springs of life

Chasing oppressive damps and languid pain!

Or shall I mention, where celestial Truth

Her awful light discloses, to bestow

A more majestic pomp on Beauty's frame?

For man loves knowledge, and the beams of Truth 100

More welcome touch his understanding's eye,

Than all the blandishments of sound his ear,

Than all of taste his tongue. Nor ever yet

The melting rainbow's vernal-tinctured hues

To me have shown so pleasing, as when first

The hand of Science pointed out the path

In which the sunbeams, gleaming from the west,

Fall on the watery cloud, whose darksome veil

Involves the orient; and that trickling shower

Piercing through every crystalline convex 110

Of clustering dewdrops to their flight opposed,

Recoil at length where concave all behind

The internal surface of each glassy orb

Repels their forward passage into air;

That thence direct they seek the radiant goal

From which their course began; and, as they strike

In different lines the gazer's obvious eye,

Assume a different lustre, through the brede

Of colours changing from the splendid rose

To the pale violet's dejected hue. 120

Or shall we touch that kind access of joy,

That springs to each fair object, while we trace,

Through all its fabric, Wisdom's artful aim,

Disposing every part, and gaining still,

By means proportion'd, her benignant end?

Speak ye, the pure delight, whose favour'd steps

The lamp of Science through the jealous maze

Of Nature guides, when haply you reveal

Her secret honours: whether in the sky,

The beauteous laws of light, the central powers 130

That wheel the pensile planets round the year;

Whether in wonders of the rolling deep,

Or the rich fruits of all-sustaining earth,

Or fine-adjusted springs of life and sense,

Ye scan the counsels of their Author's hand.

What, when to raise the meditated scene,

The flame of passion, through the struggling soul

Deep-kindled, shows across that sudden blaze

The object of its rapture, vast of size,

With fiercer colours and a night of shade? 140

What, like a storm from their capacious bed

The sounding seas o'erwhelming, when the might

Of these eruptions, working from the depth

Of man's strong apprehension, shakes his frame

Even to the base; from every naked sense

Of pain or pleasure, dissipating all

Opinion's feeble coverings, and the veil

Spun from the cobweb fashion of the times

To hide the feeling heart? Then Nature speaks

Her genuine language, and the words of men, 150

Big with the very motion of their souls,

Declare with what accumulated force

The impetuous nerve of passion urges on

The native weight and energy of things.

Yet more: her honours where nor Beauty claims,

Nor shows of good the thirsty sense allure,

From passion's power alone [Endnote R] our nature holds

Essential pleasure. Passion's fierce illapse

Rouses the mind's whole fabric; with supplies

Of daily impulse keeps the elastic powers 160

Intensely poised, and polishes anew

By that collision all the fine machine:

Else rust would rise, and foulness, by degrees

Encumbering, choke at last what heaven design'd

For ceaseless motion and a round of toil.--

But say, does every passion thus to man

Administer delight? That name indeed

Becomes the rosy breath of love; becomes

The radiant smiles of joy, the applauding hand

Of admiration: but the bitter shower 170

That sorrow sheds upon a brother's grave;

But the dumb palsy of nocturnal fear,

Or those consuming fires that gnaw the heart

Of panting indignation, find we there

To move delight?--Then listen while my tongue

The unalter'd will of Heaven with faithful awe

Reveals; what old Harmodius wont to teach

My early age; Harmodius, who had weigh'd

Within his learned mind whate'er the schools

Of Wisdom, or thy lonely-whispering voice, 180

O faithful Nature! dictate of the laws

Which govern and support this mighty frame

Of universal being. Oft the hours

From morn to eve have stolen unmark'd away,

While mute attention hung upon his lips,

As thus the sage his awful tale began:--

''Twas in the windings of an ancient wood,

When spotless youth with solitude resigns

To sweet philosophy the studious day,

What time pale Autumn shades the silent eve, 190

Musing I roved. Of good and evil much,

And much of mortal man my thought revolved;

When starting full on fancy's gushing eye

The mournful image of Parthenia's fate,

That hour, O long beloved and long deplored!

When blooming youth, nor gentlest wisdom's arts,

Nor Hymen's honours gather'd for thy brow,

Nor all thy lover's, all thy father's tears

Avail'd to snatch thee from the cruel grave;

Thy agonising looks, thy last farewell 200

Struck to the inmost feeling of my soul

As with the hand of Death. At once the shade

More horrid nodded o'er me, and the winds

With hoarser murmuring shook the branches. Dark

As midnight storms, the scene of human things

Appear'd before me; deserts, burning sands,

Where the parch'd adder dies; the frozen south,

And desolation blasting all the west

With rapine and with murder: tyrant power

Here sits enthroned with blood; the baleful charms 210

Of superstition there infect the skies,

And turn the sun to horror. Gracious Heaven!

What is the life of man? Or cannot these,

Not these portents thy awful will suffice,

That, propagated thus beyond their scope,

They rise to act their cruelties anew

In my afflicted bosom, thus decreed

The universal sensitive of pain,

The wretched heir of evils not its own?'

Thus I impatient: when, at once effused, 220

A flashing torrent of celestial day

Burst through the shadowy void. With slow descent

A purple cloud came floating through the sky,

And, poised at length within the circling trees,

Hung obvious to my view; till opening wide

Its lucid orb, a more than human form

Emerging lean'd majestic o'er my head,

And instant thunder shook the conscious grove.

Then melted into air the liquid cloud,

And all the shining vision stood reveal'd. 230

A wreath of palm his ample forehead bound,

And o'er his shoulder, mantling to his knee,

Flow'd the transparent robe, around his waist

Collected with a radiant zone of gold

Aethereal: there in mystic signs engraved,

I read his office high and sacred name,

Genius of human kind! Appall'd I gazed

The godlike presence; for athwart his brow

Displeasure, temper'd with a mild concern,

Look'd down reluctant on me, and his words 240

Like distant thunders broke the murmuring air:

'Vain are thy thoughts, O child of mortal birth!

And impotent thy tongue. Is thy short span

Capacious of this universal frame?--

Thy wisdom all-sufficient? Thou, alas!

Dost thou aspire to judge between the Lord

Of Nature and his works--to lift thy voice

Against the sovereign order he decreed,

All good and lovely--to blaspheme the bands

Of tenderness innate and social love, 250

Holiest of things! by which the general orb

Of being, as by adamantine links,

Was drawn to perfect union, and sustain'd

From everlasting? Hast thou felt the pangs

Of softening sorrow, of indignant zeal,

So grievous to the soul, as thence to wish

The ties of Nature broken from thy frame,

That so thy selfish, unrelenting heart

Might cease to mourn its lot, no longer then

The wretched heir of evils not its own? 260

O fair benevolence of generous minds!

O man by Nature form'd for all mankind!'

He spoke; abash'd and silent I remain'd,

As conscious of my tongue's offence, and awed

Before his presence, though my secret soul

Disdain'd the imputation. On the ground

I fix'd my eyes, till from his airy couch

He stoop'd sublime, and touching with his hand

My dazzling forehead, 'Raise thy sight,' he cried,

'And let thy sense convince thy erring tongue.' 270

I look'd, and lo! the former scene was changed;

For verdant alleys and surrounding trees,

A solitary prospect, wide and wild,

Rush'd on my senses. 'Twas a horrid pile

Of hills with many a shaggy forest mix'd,

With many a sable cliff and glittering stream.

Aloft, recumbent o'er the hanging ridge,

The brown woods waved; while ever-trickling springs

Wash'd from the naked roots of oak and pine

The crumbling soil; and still at every fall 280

Down the steep windings of the channel'd rock,

Remurmuring rush'd the congregated floods

With hoarser inundation; till at last

They reach'd a grassy plain, which from the skirts

Of that high desert spread her verdant lap,

And drank the gushing moisture, where confined

In one smooth current, o'er the lilied vale

Clearer than glass it flow'd. Autumnal spoils

Luxuriant spreading to the rays of morn,

Blush'd o'er the cliffs, whose half-encircling mound 290

As in a sylvan theatre enclosed

That flowery level. On the river's brink

I spied a fair pavilion, which diffused

Its floating umbrage 'mid the silver shade

Of osiers. Now the western sun reveal'd

Between two parting cliffs his golden orb,

And pour'd across the shadow of the hills,

On rocks and floods, a yellow stream of light

That cheer'd the solemn scene. My listening powers

Were awed, and every thought in silence hung, 300

And wondering expectation. Then the voice

Of that celestial power, the mystic show

Declaring, thus my deep attention call'd:--

'Inhabitant of earth, [Endnote S] to whom is given

The gracious ways of Providence to learn,

Receive my sayings with a steadfast ear--

Know then, the Sovereign Spirit of the world,

Though, self-collected from eternal time,

Within his own deep essence he beheld

The bounds of true felicity complete, 310

Yet by immense benignity inclined

To spread around him that primeval joy

Which fill'd himself, he raised his plastic arm,

And sounded through the hollow depths of space

The strong, creative mandate. Straight arose

These heavenly orbs, the glad abodes of life,

Effusive kindled by his breath divine

Through endless forms of being. Each inhaled

From him its portion of the vital flame,

In measure such, that, from the wide complex 320

Of coexistent orders, one might rise,

One order, [Endnote T] all-involving and entire.

He too, beholding in the sacred light

Of his essential reason, all the shapes

Of swift contingence, all successive ties

Of action propagated through the sum

Of possible existence, he at once,

Down the long series of eventful time,

So fix'd the dates of being, so disposed,

To every living soul of every kind 330

The field of motion and the hour of rest,

That all conspired to his supreme design,

To universal good: with full accord

Answering the mighty model he had chose,

The best and fairest [Endnote U] of unnumber'd worlds

That lay from everlasting in the store

Of his divine conceptions. Nor content,

By one exertion of creative power

His goodness to reveal; through every age,

Through every moment up the tract of time, 340

His parent hand with ever new increase

Of happiness and virtue has adorn'd

The vast harmonious frame: his parent hand,

From the mute shell-fish gasping on the shore,

To men, to angels, to celestial minds,

For ever leads the generations on

To higher scenes of being; while, supplied

From day to day with his enlivening breath,

Inferior orders in succession rise

To fill the void below. As flame ascends, [Endnote V] 350

As bodies to their proper centre move,

As the poised ocean to the attracting moon

Obedient swells, and every headlong stream

Devolves its winding waters to the main;

So all things which have life aspire to God,

The sun of being, boundless, unimpair'd,

Centre of souls! Nor does the faithful voice

Of Nature cease to prompt their eager steps

Aright; nor is the care of Heaven withheld

From granting to the task proportion'd aid; 360

That in their stations all may persevere

To climb the ascent of being, and approach

For ever nearer to the life divine.--

'That rocky pile thou seest, that verdant lawn

Fresh-water'd from the mountains. Let the scene

Paint in thy fancy the primeval seat

Of man, and where the Will Supreme ordain'd

His mansion, that pavilion fair-diffused

Along the shady brink; in this recess

To wear the appointed season of his youth, 370

Till riper hours should open to his toil

The high communion of superior minds,

Of consecrated heroes and of gods.

Nor did the Sire Omnipotent forget

His tender bloom to cherish; nor withheld

Celestial footsteps from his green abode.

Oft from the radiant honours of his throne,

He sent whom most he loved, the sovereign fair,

The effluence of his glory, whom he placed

Before his eyes for ever to behold; 380

The goddess from whose inspiration flows

The toil of patriots, the delight of friends;

Without whose work divine, in heaven or earth,

Nought lovely, nought propitious, conies to pass,

Nor hope, nor praise, nor honour. Her the Sire

Gave it in charge to rear the blooming mind,

The folded powers to open, to direct

The growth luxuriant of his young desires,

And from the laws of this majestic world

To teach him what was good. As thus the nymph 390

Her daily care attended, by her side

With constant steps her gay companion stay'd,

The fair Euphrosyné, the gentle queen

Of smiles, and graceful gladness, and delights

That cheer alike the hearts of mortal men

And powers immortal. See the shining pair!

Behold, where from his dwelling now disclosed

They quit their youthful charge and seek the skies.'

I look'd, and on the flowery turf there stood

Between two radiant forms a smiling youth 400

Whose tender cheeks display'd the vernal flower

Of beauty: sweetest innocence illumed

His bashful eyes, and on his polish'd brow

Sate young simplicity. With fond regard

He view'd the associates, as their steps they moved;

The younger chief his ardent eyes detain'd,

With mild regret invoking her return.

Bright as the star of evening she appear'd

Amid the dusky scene. Eternal youth

O'er all her form its glowing honours breathed; 410

And smiles eternal from her candid eyes

Flow'd, like the dewy lustre of the morn

Effusive trembling on the placid waves.

The spring of heaven had shed its blushing spoils

To bind her sable tresses: full diffused

Her yellow mantle floated in the breeze;

And in her hand she waved a living branch

Rich with immortal fruits, of power to calm

The wrathful heart, and from the brightening eyes

To chase the cloud of sadness. More sublime 420

The heavenly partner moved. The prime of age

Composed her steps. The presence of a god,

High on the circle of her brow enthroned,

From each majestic motion darted awe,

Devoted awe! till, cherish'd by her looks

Benevolent and meek, confiding love

To filial rapture soften'd all the soul.

Free in her graceful hand she poised the sword

Of chaste dominion. An heroic crown

Display'd the old simplicity of pomp 430

Around her honour'd head. A matron's robe,

White as the sunshine streams through vernal clouds,

Her stately form invested. Hand in hand

The immortal pair forsook the enamel'd green,

Ascending slowly. Rays of limpid light

Gleam'd round their path; celestial sounds were heard,

And through the fragrant air ethereal dews

Distill'd around them; till at once the clouds,

Disparting wide in midway sky, withdrew

Their airy veil, and left a bright expanse 440

Of empyrean flame, where, spent and drown'd,

Afflicted vision plunged in vain to scan

What object it involved. My feeble eyes

Endured not. Bending down to earth I stood,

With dumb attention. Soon a female voice,

As watery murmurs sweet, or warbling shades,

With sacred invocation thus began:

'Father of gods and mortals! whose right arm

With reins eternal guides the moving heavens,

Bend thy propitious ear. Behold well pleased 450

I seek to finish thy divine decree.

With frequent steps I visit yonder seat

Of man, thy offspring; from the tender seeds

Of justice and of wisdom, to evolve

The latent honours of his generous frame;

Till thy conducting hand shall raise his lot

From earth's dim scene to these ethereal walks,

The temple of thy glory. But not me,

Not my directing voice he oft requires,

Or hears delighted: this enchanting maid, 460

The associate thou hast given me, her alone

He loves, O Father! absent, her he craves;

And but for her glad presence ever join'd,

Rejoices not in mine: that all my hopes

This thy benignant purpose to fulfil,

I deem uncertain: and my daily cares

Unfruitful all and vain, unless by thee

Still further aided in the work divine.'

She ceased; a voice more awful thus replied:--

'O thou, in whom for ever I delight, 470

Fairer than all the inhabitants of Heaven,

Best image of thy Author! far from thee

Be disappointment, or distaste, or blame;

Who soon or late shalt every work fulfil,

And no resistance find. If man refuse

To hearken to thy dictates; or, allured

By meaner joys, to any other power

Transfer the honours due to thee alone;

That joy which he pursues he ne'er shall taste,

That power in whom delighteth ne'er behold. 480

Go then, once more, and happy be thy toil;

Go then! but let not this thy smiling friend

Partake thy footsteps. In her stead, behold!

With thee the son of Nemesis I send;

The fiend abhorr'd! whose vengeance takes account

Of sacred order's violated laws.

See where he calls thee, burning to be gone,

Pierce to exhaust the tempest of his wrath

On yon devoted head. But thou, my child,

Control his cruel frenzy, and protect 490

Thy tender charge; that when despair shall grasp

His agonising bosom, he may learn,

Then he may learn to love the gracious hand

Alone sufficient in the hour of ill,

To save his feeble spirit; then confess

Thy genuine honours, O excelling fair!

When all the plagues that wait the deadly will

Of this avenging demon, all the storms

Of night infernal, serve but to display

The energy of thy superior charms 500

With mildest awe triumphant o'er his rage,

And shining clearer in the horrid gloom.'

Here ceased that awful voice, and soon I felt

The cloudy curtain of refreshing eve

Was closed once more, from that immortal fire

Sheltering my eyelids. Looking up, I view'd

A vast gigantic spectre striding on

Through murmuring thunders and a waste of clouds,

With dreadful action. Black as night his brow

Relentless frowns involved. His savage limbs 510

With sharp impatience violent he writhed,

As through convulsive anguish; and his hand,

Arm'd with a scorpion lash, full oft he raised

In madness to his bosom; while his eyes

Rain'd bitter tears, and bellowing loud he shook

The void with horror. Silent by his side

The virgin came. No discomposure stirr'd

Her features. From the glooms which hung around,

No stain of darkness mingled with the beam

Of her divine effulgence. Now they stoop 520

Upon the river bank; and now to hail

His wonted guests, with eager steps advanced

The unsuspecting inmate of the shade.

As when a famish'd wolf, that all night long

Had ranged the Alpine snows, by chance at morn

Sees from a cliff, incumbent o'er the smoke

Of some lone village, a neglected kid

That strays along the wild for herb or spring;

Down from the winding ridge he sweeps amain,

And thinks he tears him: so with tenfold rage, 530

The monster sprung remorseless on his prey.

Amazed the stripling stood: with panting breast

Feebly he pour'd the lamentable wail

Of helpless consternation, struck at once,

And rooted to the ground. The Queen beheld

His terror, and with looks of tenderest care

Advanced to save him. Soon the tyrant felt

Her awful power. His keen tempestuous arm

Hung nerveless, nor descended where his rage

Had aim'd the deadly blow: then dumb retired 540

With sullen rancour. Lo! the sovereign maid

Folds with a mother's arms the fainting boy,

Till life rekindles in his rosy cheek;

Then grasps his hands, and cheers him with her tongue:--

'Oh, wake thee, rouse thy spirit! Shall the spite

Of yon tormentor thus appal thy heart,

While I, thy friend and guardian, am at hand

To rescue and to heal? Oh, let thy soul

Remember, what the will of heaven ordains

Is ever good for all; and if for all, 550

Then good for thee. Nor only by the warmth

And soothing sunshine of delightful things,

Do minds grow up and flourish. Oft misled

By that bland light, the young unpractised views

Of reason wander through a fatal road,

Far from their native aim; as if to lie

Inglorious in the fragrant shade, and wait

The soft access of ever circling joys,

Were all the end of being. Ask thyself,

This pleasing error did it never lull 560

Thy wishes? Has thy constant heart refused

The silken fetters of delicious ease?

Or when divine Euphrosyné appear'd

Within this dwelling, did not thy desires

Hang far below the measure of thy fate,

Which I reveal'd before thee, and thy eyes,

Impatient of my counsels, turn away

To drink the soft effusion of her smiles?

Know then, for this the everlasting Sire

Deprives thee of her presence, and instead, 570

O wise and still benevolent! ordains

This horrid visage hither to pursue

My steps; that so thy nature may discern

Its real good, and what alone can save

Thy feeble spirit in this hour of ill

From folly and despair. O yet beloved!

Let not this headlong terror quite o'erwhelm

Thy scatter'd powers; nor fatal deem the rage

Of this tormentor, nor his proud assault,

While I am here to vindicate thy toil, 580

Above the generous question of thy arm.

Brave by thy fears and in thy weakness strong,

This hour he triumphs: but confront his might,

And dare him to the combat, then with ease

Disarm'd and quell'd, his fierceness he resigns

To bondage and to scorn: while thus inured

By watchful danger, by unceasing toil,

The immortal mind, superior to his fate,

Amid the outrage of external things,

Firm as the solid base of this great world, 590

Rests on his own foundations. Blow, ye winds!

Ye waves! ye thunders! roll your tempest on;

Shake, ye old pillars of the marble sky!

Till all its orbs and all its worlds of fire

Be loosen'd from their seats; yet still serene,

The unconquer'd mind looks down upon the wreck;

And ever stronger as the storms advance,

Firm through the closing ruin holds his way,

Where Nature calls him to the destined goal.'

So spake the goddess; while through all her frame 600

Celestial raptures flow'd, in every word,

In every motion kindling warmth divine

To seize who listen'd. Vehement and swift

As lightning fires the aromatic shade

In Aethiopian fields, the stripling felt

Her inspiration catch his fervid soul,

And starting from his languor thus exclaim'd:--

'Then let the trial come! and witness thou,

If terror be upon me; if I shrink

To meet the storm, or falter in my strength 610

When hardest it besets me. Do not think

That I am fearful and infirm of soul,

As late thy eyes beheld: for thou hast changed

My nature; thy commanding voice has waked

My languid powers to bear me boldly on,

Where'er the will divine my path ordains

Through toil or peril: only do not thou

Forsake me; Oh, be thou for ever near,

That I may listen to thy sacred voice,

And guide by thy decrees my constant feet. 620

But say, for ever are my eyes bereft?

Say, shall the fair Euphrosyné not once

Appear again to charm me? Thou, in heaven!

O thou eternal arbiter of things!

Be thy great bidding done: for who am I,

To question thy appointment? Let the frowns

Of this avenger every morn o'ercast

The cheerful dawn, and every evening damp

With double night my dwelling; I will learn

To hail them both, and unrepining bear 630

His hateful presence: but permit my tongue

One glad request, and if my deeds may find

Thy awful eye propitious, oh! restore

The rosy-featured maid; again to cheer

This lonely seat, and bless me with her smiles.'

He spoke; when instant through the sable glooms

With which that furious presence had involved

The ambient air, a flood of radiance came

Swift as the lightning flash; the melting clouds

Flew diverse, and amid the blue serene 640

Euphrosyné appear'd. With sprightly step

The nymph alighted on the irriguous lawn,

And to her wondering audience thus began:--

'Lo! I am here to answer to your vows,

And be the meeting fortunate! I come

With joyful tidings; we shall part no more--

Hark! how the gentle echo from her cell

Talks through the cliffs, and murmuring o'er the stream

Repeats the accents; we shall part no more.--

O my delightful friends! well pleased on high 650

The Father has beheld you, while the might

Of that stern foe with bitter trial proved

Your equal doings: then for ever spake

The high decree, that thou, celestial maid!

Howe'er that grisly phantom on thy steps

May sometimes dare intrude, yet never more

Shalt thou, descending to the abode of man,

Alone endure the rancour of his arm,

Or leave thy loved Euphrosyné behind.'

She ended, and the whole romantic scene 660

Immediate vanish'd; rocks, and woods, and rills,

The mantling tent, and each mysterious form

Flew like the pictures of a morning dream,

When sunshine fills the bed. Awhile I stood

Perplex'd and giddy; till the radiant power

Who bade the visionary landscape rise,

As up to him I turn'd, with gentlest looks

Preventing my inquiry, thus began:--

'There let thy soul acknowledge its complaint

How blind, how impious! There behold the ways 670

Of Heaven's eternal destiny to man,

For ever just, benevolent, and wise:

That Virtue's awful steps, howe'er pursued

By vexing fortune and intrusive pain,

Should never be divided from her chaste,

Her fair attendant, Pleasure. Need I urge

Thy tardy thought through all the various round

Of this existence, that thy softening soul

At length may learn what energy the hand

Of virtue mingles in the bitter tide 680

Of passion swelling with distress and pain,

To mitigate the sharp with gracious drops

Of cordial pleasure? Ask the faithful youth,

Why the cold urn of her whom long he loved

So often fills his arms; so often draws

His lonely footsteps at the silent hour,

To pay the mournful tribute of his tears?

Oh! he will tell thee, that the wealth of worlds

Should ne'er seduce his bosom to forego

That sacred hour, when, stealing from the noise 690

Of care and envy, sweet remembrance soothes

With virtue's kindest looks his aching breast,

And turns his tears to rapture.--Ask the crowd

Which flies impatient from the village walk

To climb the neighbouring cliffs, when far below

The cruel winds have hurl'd upon the coast

Some helpless bark; while sacred Pity melts

The general eye, or Terror's icy hand

Smites their distorted limbs and horrent hair;

While every mother closer to her breast 700

Catches her child, and pointing where the waves

Foam through the shatter'd vessel, shrieks aloud

As one poor wretch that spreads his piteous arms

For succour, swallow'd by the roaring surge,

As now another, dash'd against the rock,

Drops lifeless down: Oh! deemest thou indeed

No kind endearment here by Nature given

To mutual terror and compassion's tears?

No sweetly melting softness which attracts,

O'er all that edge of pain, the social powers 710

To this their proper action and their end?--

Ask thy own heart, when, at the midnight hour,

Slow through that studious gloom thy pausing eye,

Led by the glimmering taper, moves around

The sacred volumes of the dead, the songs

Of Grecian bards, and records writ by Fame

For Grecian heroes, where the present power

Of heaven and earth surveys the immortal page,

Even as a father blessing, while he reads

The praises of his son. If then thy soul, 720

Spurning the yoke of these inglorious days,

Mix in their deeds, and kindle with their flame,

Say, when the prospect blackens on thy view,

When, rooted from the base, heroic states

Mourn in the dust, and tremble at the frown

Of cursed ambition; when the pious band

Of youths who fought for freedom and their sires,

Lie side by side in gore; when ruffian pride

Usurps the throne of Justice, turns the pomp

Of public power, the majesty of rule, 730

The sword, the laurel, and the purple robe,

To slavish empty pageants, to adorn

A tyrant's walk, and glitter in the eyes

Of such as bow the knee; when honour'd urns

Of patriots and of chiefs, the awful bust

And storied arch, to glut the coward rage

Of regal envy, strew the public way

With hallow'd ruins; when the Muse's haunt,

The marble porch where Wisdom wont to talk

With Socrates or Tully, hears no more, 740

Save the hoarse jargon of contentious monks,

Or female Superstition's midnight prayer;

When ruthless Rapine from the hand of Time

Tears the destroying scythe, with surer blow

To sweep the works of glory from their base;

Till Desolation o'er the grass-grown street

Expands his raven wings, and up the wall,

Where senates once the price of monarchs doom'd,

Hisses the gliding snake through hoary weeds

That clasp the mouldering column; thus defaced, 750

Thus widely mournful when the prospect thrills

Thy beating bosom, when the patriot's tear

Starts from thine eye, and thy extended arm

In fancy hurls the thunderbolt of Jove

To fire the impious wreath on Philip's [Endnote W] brow,

Or dash Octavius from the trophied car;

Say, does thy secret soul repine to taste

The big distress? Or wouldst thou then exchange

Those heart-ennobling sorrows for the lot

Of him who sits amid the gaudy herd 760

Of mute barbarians bending to his nod,

And bears aloft his gold-invested front,

And says within himself, I am a king,

And wherefore should the clamorous voice of woe

Intrude upon mine ear?--The baleful dregs

Of these late ages, this inglorious draught

Of servitude and folly, have not yet,

Bless'd be the eternal Ruler of the world!

Defiled to such a depth of sordid shame

The native honours of the human soul, 770

Nor so effaced the image of its Sire.'

BOOK III.

ARGUMENT.

Pleasure in observing the tempers and manners of men, even where

vicious or absurd. The origin of Vice, from false representations of

the fancy, producing false opinions concerning good and evil.

Inquiry into ridicule. The general sources of ridicule in the minds

and characters of men, enumerated. Final cause of the sense of

ridicule. The resemblance of certain aspects of inanimate things to

the sensations and properties of the mind. The operations of the

mind in the production of the works of Imagination, described. The

secondary pleasure from Imitation. The benevolent order of the world

illustrated in the arbitrary connexion of these pleasures with the

objects which excite them. The nature and conduct of taste.

Concluding with an account of the natural and moral advantages

resulting from a sensible and well formed imagination.

What wonder therefore, since the endearing ties

Of passion link the universal kind

Of man so close, what wonder if to search

This common nature through the various change

Of sex, and age, and fortune, and the frame

Of each peculiar, draw the busy mind

With unresisted charms? The spacious west,

And all the teeming regions of the south,

Hold not a quarry, to the curious flight

Of Knowledge, half so tempting or so fair, 10

As man to man. Nor only where the smiles

Of Love invite; nor only where the applause

Of cordial Honour turns the attentive eye

On Virtue's graceful deeds. For, since the course

Of things external acts in different ways

On human apprehensions, as the hand

Of Nature temper'd to a different frame

Peculiar minds; so haply where the powers

Of Fancy [Endnote X] neither lessen nor enlarge

The images of things, but paint in all 20

Their genuine hues, the features which they wore

In Nature; there Opinion will be true,

And Action right. For Action treads the path

In which Opinion says he follows good,

Or flies from evil; and Opinion gives

Report of good or evil, as the scene

Was drawn by Fancy, lovely or deform'd:

Thus her report can never there be true

Where Fancy cheats the intellectual eye,

With glaring colours and distorted lines. 30

Is there a man, who, at the sound of death,

Sees ghastly shapes of terror conjured up,

And black before him; nought but death-bed groans

And fearful prayers, and plunging from the brink

Of light and being, down the gloomy air,

An unknown depth? Alas! in such a mind,

If no bright forms of excellence attend

The image of his country; nor the pomp

Of sacred senates, nor the guardian voice

Of Justice on her throne, nor aught that wakes 40

The conscious bosom with a patriot's flame;

Will not Opinion tell him, that to die,

Or stand the hazard, is a greater ill

Than to betray his country? And in act

Will he not choose to be a wretch and live?

Here vice begins then. From the enchanting cup

Which Fancy holds to all, the unwary thirst

Of youth oft swallows a Circaean draught,

That sheds a baleful tincture o'er the eye

Of Reason, till no longer he discerns, 50

And only guides to err. Then revel forth

A furious band that spurn him from the throne,

And all is uproar. Thus Ambition grasps

The empire of the soul; thus pale Revenge

Unsheaths her murderous dagger; and the hands

Of Lust and Rapine, with unholy arts,

Watch to o'erturn the barrier of the laws

That keeps them from their prey; thus all the plagues

The wicked bear, or o'er the trembling scone

The tragic Muse discloses, under shapes 60

Of honour, safety, pleasure, ease, or pomp,

Stole first into the mind. Yet not by all

Those lying forms, which Fancy in the brain

Engenders, are the kindling passions driven

To guilty deeds; nor Reason bound in chains,

That Vice alone may lord it: oft adorn'd

With solemn pageants, Folly mounts the throne,

And plays her idiot antics, like a queen.

A thousand garbs she wears; a thousand ways

She wheels her giddy empire.--Lo! thus far 70

With bold adventure, to the Mantuan lyre

I sing of Nature's charms, and touch well pleased

A stricter note: now haply must my song

Unbend her serious measure, and reveal

In lighter strains, how Folly's awkward arts [Endnote Y]

Excite impetuous Laughter's gay rebuke;

The sportive province of the comic Muse.

See! in what crowds the uncouth forms advance:

Each would outstrip the other, each prevent

Our careful search, and offer to your gaze, 80

Unask'd, his motley features. Wait awhile,

My curious friends! and let us first arrange

In proper order your promiscuous throng.

Behold the foremost band; [Endnote Z] of slender thought,

And easy faith; whom flattering Fancy soothes

With lying spectres, in themselves to view

Illustrious forms of excellence and good,

That scorn the mansion. With exulting hearts

They spread their spurious treasures to the sun,

And bid the world admire! But chief the glance 90

Of wishful Envy draws their joy-bright eyes,

And lifts with self-applause each lordly brow.

In number boundless as the blooms of Spring,

Behold their glaring idols, empty shades

By Fancy gilded o'er, and then set up

For adoration. Some in Learning's garb,

With formal band, and sable-cinctured gown,

And rags of mouldy volumes. Some elate

With martial splendour, steely pikes and swords

Of costly frame, and gay Phoenician robes 100

Inwrought with flowery gold, assume the port

Of stately Valour: listening by his side

There stands a female form; to her, with looks

Of earnest import, pregnant with amaze,

He talks of deadly deeds, of breaches, storms,

And sulphurous mines, and ambush: then at once

Breaks off, and smiles to see her look so pale,

And asks some wondering question of her fears.

Others of graver mien; behold, adorn'd

With holy ensigns, how sublime they move, 110

And bending oft their sanctimonious eyes

Take homage of the simple-minded throng;

Ambassadors of Heaven! Nor much unlike

Is he, whose visage in the lazy mist

That mantles every feature, hides a brood

Of politic conceits, of whispers, nods,

And hints deep omen'd with unwieldy schemes,

And dark portents of state. Ten thousand more,

Prodigious habits and tumultuous tongues,

Pour dauntless in and swell the boastful band. 120

Then comes the second order; [Endnote AA] all who seek

The debt of praise, where watchful Unbelief

Darts through the thin pretence her squinting eye

On some retired appearance which belies

The boasted virtue, or annuls the applause

That Justice else would pay. Here side by side

I see two leaders of the solemn train

Approaching: one a female old and gray,

With eyes demure, and wrinkle-furrow'd brow,

Pale as the cheeks of death; yet still she stuns 130

The sickening audience with a nauseous tale,

How many youths her myrtle chains have worn,

How many virgins at her triumphs pined!

Yet how resolved she guards her cautious heart;

Such is her terror at the risks of love,

And man's seducing tongue! The other seems

A bearded sage, ungentle in his mien,

And sordid all his habit; peevish Want

Grins at his heels, while down the gazing throng

He stalks, resounding in magnific praise 140

The vanity of riches, the contempt

Of pomp and power. Be prudent in your zeal,

Ye grave associates! let the silent grace

Of her who blushes at the fond regard

Her charms inspire, more eloquent unfold

The praise of spotless honour: let the man,

Whose eye regards not his illustrious pomp

And ample store, but as indulgent streams

To cheer the barren soil and spread the fruits

Of joy, let him by juster measures fix 150

The price of riches and the end of power.

Another tribe succeeds; [Endnote BB] deluded long

By Fancy's dazzling optics, these behold

The images of some peculiar things

With brighter hues resplendent, and portray'd

With features nobler far than e'er adorn'd

Their genuine objects. Hence the fever'd heart

Pants with delirious hope for tinsel charms;

Hence oft obtrusive on the eye of scorn,

Untimely zeal her witless pride betrays! 160

And serious manhood from the towering aim

Of wisdom, stoops to emulate the boast

Of childish toil. Behold yon mystic form

Bedeck'd with feathers, insects, weeds, and shells!

Not with intenser view the Samian sage

Bent his fix'd eye on heaven's intenser fires,

When first the order of that radiant scene

Swell'd his exulting thought, than this surveys

A muckworm's entrails, or a spider's fang.

Next him a youth, with flowers and myrtles crown'd, 170

Attends that virgin form, and blushing kneels,

With fondest gesture and a suppliant's tongue,

To win her coy regard: adieu, for him,

The dull engagements of the bustling world!

Adieu the sick impertinence of praise!

And hope, and action! for with her alone,

By streams and shades, to steal these sighing hours,

Is all he asks, and all that fate can give!

Thee too, facetious Momion, wandering here,

Thee, dreaded censor, oft have I beheld 180

Bewilder'd unawares: alas! too long

Flush'd with thy comic triumphs and the spoils

Of sly derision! till on every side

Hurling thy random bolts, offended Truth

Assign'd thee here thy station with the slaves

Of Folly. Thy once formidable name

Shall grace her humble records, and be heard

In scoffs and mockery bandied from the lips

Of all the vengeful brotherhood around,

So oft the patient victims of thy scorn. 190

But now, ye gay! [Endnote CC] to whom indulgent fate,

Of all the Muse's empire hath assign'd

The fields of folly, hither each advance

Your sickles; here the teeming soil affords

Its richest growth. A favourite brood appears,

In whom the demon, with a mother's joy,

Views all her charms reflected, all her cares

At full repaid. Ye most illustrious band!

Who, scorning Reason's tame, pedantic rules,

And Order's vulgar bondage, never meant 200

For souls sublime as yours, with generous zeal

Pay Vice the reverence Virtue long usurp'd,

And yield Deformity the fond applause

Which Beauty wont to claim, forgive my song,

That for the blushing diffidence of youth,

It shuns the unequal province of your praise.

Thus far triumphant [Endnote DD] in the pleasing guile

Of bland Imagination, Folly's train

Have dared our search: but now a dastard kind

Advance reluctant, and with faltering feet 210

Shrink from the gazer's eye: enfeebled hearts

Whom Fancy chills with visionary fears,

Or bends to servile tameness with conceits

Of shame, of evil, or of base defect,

Fantastic and delusive. Here the slave

Who droops abash'd when sullen Pomp surveys

His humbler habit; here the trembling wretch

Unnerved and struck with Terror's icy bolts,

Spent in weak wailings, drown'd in shameful tears,

At every dream of danger: here, subdued 220

By frontless laughter and the hardy scorn

Of old, unfeeling vice, the abject soul,

Who, blushing, half resigns the candid praise

Of Temperance and Honour; half disowns

A freeman's hatred of tyrannic pride;

And hears with sickly smiles the venal mouth

With foulest licence mock the patriot's name.

Last of the motley bands [Endnote EE] on whom the power

Of gay Derision bends her hostile aim,

Is that where shameful Ignorance presides. 230

Beneath her sordid banners, lo! they march

Like blind and lame. Whate'er their doubtful hands

Attempt, Confusion straight appears behind,

And troubles all the work. Through many a maze,

Perplex'd they struggle, changing every path,

O'erturning every purpose; then at last

Sit down dismay'd, and leave the entangled scene

For Scorn to sport with. Such then is the abode

Of Folly in the mind; and such the shapes

In which she governs her obsequious train. 240

Through every scene of ridicule in things

To lead the tenor of my devious lay;

Through every swift occasion, which the hand

Of Laughter points at, when the mirthful sting

Distends her sallying nerves and chokes her tongue;

What were it but to count each crystal drop

Which Morning's dewy fingers on the blooms

Of May distil? Suffice it to have said, [Endnote FF]

Where'er the power of Ridicule displays

Her quaint-eyed visage, some incongruous form, 250

Some stubborn dissonance of things combined,

Strikes on the quick observer: whether Pomp,

Or Praise, or Beauty, mix their partial claim

Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds,

Where foul Deformity are wont to dwell;

Or whether these with violation loathed,

Invade resplendent Pomp's imperious mien,

The charms of Beauty, or the boast of Praise.

Ask we for what fair end, [Endnote GG] the Almighty Sire

In mortal bosoms wakes this gay contempt, 260

These grateful stings of laughter, from disgust

Educing pleasure? Wherefore, but to aid

The tardy steps of Reason, and at once

By this prompt impulse urge us to depress

The giddy aims of Folly? Though the light

Of Truth slow dawning on the inquiring mind,

At length unfolds, through many a subtile tie,

How these uncouth disorders end at last

In public evil! yet benignant Heaven,

Conscious how dim the dawn of truth appears 270

To thousands; conscious what a scanty pause

From labours and from care, the wider lot

Of humble life affords for studious thought

To scan the maze of Nature; therefore stamp'd

The glaring scenes with characters of scorn,

As broad, as obvious, to the passing clown,

As to the letter'd sage's curious eye.

Such are the various aspects of the mind--

Some heavenly genius, whose unclouded thoughts

Attain that secret harmony which blends 280

The etherial spirit with its mould of clay,

Oh! teach me to reveal the grateful charm

That searchless Nature o'er the sense of man

Diffuses, to behold, in lifeless things,

The inexpressive semblance [Endnote HH] of himself,

Of thought and passion. Mark the sable woods

That shade sublime yon mountain's nodding brow:

With what religious awe the solemn scene

Commands your steps! as if the reverend form

Of Minos or of Numa should forsake 290

The Elysian seats, and down the embowering glade

Move to your pausing eye! Behold the expanse

Of yon gay landscape, where the silver clouds

Flit o'er the heavens before the sprightly breeze:

Now their gray cincture skirts the doubtful sun;

Now streams of splendour, through their opening veil

Effulgent, sweep from off the gilded lawn

The aërial shadows, on the curling brook,

And on the shady margin's quivering leaves

With quickest lustre glancing; while you view 300

The prospect, say, within your cheerful breast

Plays not the lively sense of winning mirth

With clouds and sunshine chequer'd, while the round

Of social converse, to the inspiring tongue

Of some gay nymph amid her subject train,

Moves all obsequious? Whence is this effect,

This kindred power of such discordant things?

Or flows their semblance from that mystic tone

To which the new-born mind's harmonious powers

At first were strung? Or rather from the links 310

Which artful custom twines around her frame?

For when the different images of things,

By chance combined, have struck the attentive soul

With deeper impulse, or, connected long,

Have drawn her frequent eye; howe'er distinct

The external scenes, yet oft the ideas gain

From that conjunction an eternal tie,

And sympathy unbroken. Let the mind

Recall one partner of the various league,

Immediate, lo! the firm confederates rise, 320

And each his former station straight resumes:

One movement governs the consenting throng,

And all at once with rosy pleasure shine,

Or all are sadden'd with the glooms of care.

'Twas thus, if ancient fame the truth unfold,

Two faithful needles, [Endnote II] from the informing touch

Of the same parent stone, together drew

Its mystic virtue, and at first conspired

With fatal impulse quivering to the pole:

Then, though disjoin'd by kingdoms, though the main 330

Roll'd its broad surge betwixt, and different stars

Beheld their wakeful motions, yet preserved

The former friendship, and remember'd still

The alliance of their birth: whate'er the line

Which one possess'd, nor pause, nor quiet knew

The sure associate, ere with trembling speed

He found its path and fix'd unerring there.

Such is the secret union, when we feel

A song, a flower, a name, at once restore

Those long-connected scenes where first they moved 340

The attention, backward through her mazy walks

Guiding the wanton fancy to her scope,

To temples, courts, or fields, with all the band

Of painted forms, of passions and designs

Attendant; whence, if pleasing in itself,

The prospect from that sweet accession gains

Redoubled influence o'er the listening mind.

By these mysterious ties, [Endnote JJ] the busy power

Of Memory her ideal train preserves

Entire; or when they would elude her watch, 350

Reclaims their fleeting footsteps from the waste

Of dark oblivion; thus collecting all

The various forms of being to present,

Before the curious aim of mimic art,

Their largest choice; like Spring's unfolded blooms

Exhaling sweetness, that the skilful bee

May taste at will, from their selected spoils

To work her dulcet food. For not the expanse

Of living lakes in Summer's noontide calm,

Reflects the bordering shade, and sun-bright heavens, 360

With fairer semblance; not the sculptured gold

More faithful keeps the graver's lively trace,

Than he whose birth the sister powers of Art

Propitious view'd, and from his genial star

Shed influence to the seeds of fancy kind,

Than his attemper'd bosom must preserve

The seal of Nature. There alone unchanged,

Her form remains. The balmy walks of May

There breathe perennial sweets; the trembling chord

Resounds for ever in the abstracted ear, 370

Melodious; and the virgin's radiant eye,

Superior to disease, to grief, and time,

Shines with unbating lustre. Thus at length

Endow'd with all that nature can bestow,

The child of Fancy oft in silence bends

O'er these mix'd treasures of his pregnant breast

With conscious pride. From them he oft resolves

To frame he knows not what excelling things,

And win he knows not what sublime reward

Of praise and wonder. By degrees, the mind 380

Feels her young nerves dilate: the plastic powers

Labour for action: blind emotions heave

His bosom; and with loveliest frenzy caught,

From earth to heaven he rolls his daring eye,

From heaven to earth. Anon ten thousand shapes,

Like spectres trooping to the wizard's call,

Flit swift before him. From the womb of earth,

From ocean's bed they come: the eternal heavens

Disclose their splendours, and the dark abyss

Pours out her births unknown. With fixed gaze 390

He marks the rising phantoms. Now compares

Their different forms; now blends them, now divides,

Enlarges and extenuates by turns;

Opposes, ranges in fantastic bands,

And infinitely varies. Hither now,

Now thither fluctuates his inconstant aim,

With endless choice perplex'd. At length his plan

Begins to open. Lucid order dawns;

And as from Chaos old the jarring seeds

Of Nature at the voice divine repair'd 400

Each to its place, till rosy earth unveil'd

Her fragrant bosom, and the joyful sun

Sprung up the blue serene; by swift degrees

Thus disentangled, his entire design

Emerges. Colours mingle, features join,

And lines converge: the fainter parts retire;

The fairer eminent in light advance;

And every image on its neighbour smiles.

Awhile he stands, and with a father's joy

Contemplates. Then with Promethéan art, 410

Into its proper vehicle [Endnote KK] he breathes

The fair conception; which, embodied thus,

And permanent, becomes to eyes or ears

An object ascertain'd: while thus inform'd,

The various organs of his mimic skill,

The consonance of sounds, the featured rock,

The shadowy picture and impassion'd verse,

Beyond their proper powers attract the soul

By that expressive semblance, while in sight

Of Nature's great original we scan 420

The lively child of Art; while line by line,

And feature after feature we refer

To that sublime exemplar whence it stole

Those animating charms. Thus Beauty's palm

Betwixt them wavering hangs: applauding Love

Doubts where to choose; and mortal man aspires

To tempt creative praise. As when a cloud

Of gathering hail, with limpid crusts of ice

Enclosed and obvious to the beaming sun,

Collects his large effulgence; straight the heavens 430

With equal flames present on either hand

The radiant visage; Persia stands at gaze,

Appall'd; and on the brink of Ganges doubts

The snowy-vested seer, in Mithra's name,

To which the fragrance of the south shall burn,

To which his warbled orisons ascend.

Such various bliss the well-tuned heart enjoys,

Favour'd of Heaven! while, plunged in sordid cares,

The unfeeling vulgar mocks the boon divine;

And harsh Austerity, from whose rebuke 440

Young Love and smiling Wonder shrink away

Abash'd and chill of heart, with sager frowns

Condemns the fair enchantment. On my strain,

Perhaps even now, some cold, fastidious judge

Casts a disdainful eye; and calls my toil,

And calls the love and beauty which I sing,

The dream of folly. Thou, grave censor! say,

Is Beauty then a dream, because the glooms

Of dulness hang too heavy on thy sense,

To let her shine upon thee? So the man 450

Whose eye ne'er open'd on the light of heaven,

Might smile with scorn while raptured vision tells

Of the gay-colour'd radiance flushing bright

O'er all creation. From the wise be far

Such gross unhallow'd pride; nor needs my song

Descend so low; but rather now unfold,

If human thought could reach, or words unfold,

By what mysterious fabric of the mind,

The deep-felt joys and harmony of sound

Result from airy motion; and from shape 460

The lovely phantoms of sublime and fair.

By what fine ties hath God connected things

When present in the mind, which in themselves

Have no connexion? Sure the rising sun

O'er the cerulean convex of the sea,

With equal brightness and with equal warmth

Might roll his fiery orb, nor yet the soul

Thus feel her frame expanded, and her powers

Exulting in the splendour she beholds,

Like a young conqueror moving through the pomp 470

Of some triumphal day. When join'd at eve,

Soft murmuring streams and gales of gentlest breath

Melodious Philomela's wakeful strain

Attemper, could not man's discerning ear

Through all its tones the sympathy pursue,

Nor yet this breath divine of nameless joy

Steal through his veins and fan the awaken'd heart,

Mild as the breeze, yet rapturous as the song?

But were not Nature still endow'd at large

With all that life requires, though unadorn'd 480

With such enchantment? Wherefore then her form

So exquisitely fair? her breath perfumed

With such ethereal sweetness? whence her voice

Inform'd at will to raise or to depress

The impassion'd soul? and whence the robes of light

Which thus invest her with more lovely pomp

Than Fancy can describe? Whence but from Thee,

O source divine of ever-flowing love!

And Thy unmeasured goodness? Not content

With every food of life to nourish man, 490

By kind illusions of the wondering sense

Thou mak'st all Nature beauty to his eye,

Or music to his ear; well pleased he scans

The goodly prospect, and with inward smiles

Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain,

Beholds the azure canopy of heaven,

And living lamps that over-arch his head

With more than regal splendour; bends his ears

To the full choir of water, air, and earth;

Nor heeds the pleasing error of his thought, 500

Nor doubts the painted green or azure arch,

Nor questions more the music's mingling sounds,

Than space, or motion, or eternal time;

So sweet he feels their influence to attract

The fixed soul, to brighten the dull glooms

Of care, and make the destined road of life

Delightful to his feet. So fables tell,

The adventurous hero, bound on hard exploits,

Beholds with glad surprise, by secret spells

Of some kind sage, the patron of his toils, 510

A visionary paradise disclosed

Amid the dubious wild; with streams, and shades,

And airy songs, the enchanted landscape smiles,

Cheers his long labours and renews his frame.

What then is taste, but these internal powers

Active, and strong, and feelingly alive

To each fine impulse,--a discerning sense

Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust

From things deform'd, or disarranged, or gross

In species? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold, 520

Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow;

But God alone, when first His active hand

Imprints the secret bias of the soul.

He, mighty Parent! wise and just in all,

Free as the vital breeze or light of heaven,

Reveals the charms of Nature. Ask the swain

Who journeys homeward from a summer day's

Long labour, why, forgetful of his toils

And due repose, he loiters to behold

The sunshine gleaming as through amber clouds, 530

O'er all the western sky; full soon, I ween,

His rude expression and untutor'd airs,

Beyond the power of language, will unfold

The form of beauty, smiling at his heart,

How lovely! how commanding! But though Heaven

In every breast hath sown these early seeds

Of love and admiration, yet in vain,

Without fair culture's kind parental aid,

Without enlivening suns, and genial showers,

And shelter from the blast, in vain we hope 540

The tender plant should rear its blooming head,

Or yield the harvest promised in its spring.

Nor yet will every soul with equal stores

Repay the tiller's labour, or attend

His will, obsequious, whether to produce

The olive or the laurel. Different minds

Incline to different objects; one pursues

The vast alone, [Endnote LL] the wonderful, the wild;

Another sighs for harmony, and grace,

And gentlest beauty. Hence, when lightning fires 550

The arch of heaven, and thunders rock the ground,

When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air,

And ocean, groaning from his lowest bed,

Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky;

Amid the mighty uproar, while below

The nations tremble, Shakspeare looks abroad

Prom some high cliff, superior, and enjoys

The elemental war. But Waller longs, [Endnote MM]

All on the margin of some flowery stream

To spread his careless limbs amid the cool 560

Of plantane shades, and to the listening deer

The tale of slighted vows and love's disdain

Resound soft-warbling all the livelong day;

Consenting Zephyr sighs; the weeping rill

Joins in his plaint, melodious; mute the groves;

And hill and dale with all their echoes mourn.

Such and so various are the tastes of men.

Oh! bless'd of Heaven, whom not the languid songs

Of Luxury, the siren! not the bribes

Of sordid Wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils 570

Of pageant Honour, can seduce to leave

Those ever-blooming sweets, which from the store

Of Nature fair Imagination culls

To charm the enliven'd soul! What though not all

Of mortal offspring can attain the heights

Of envied life; though only few possess

Patrician treasures or imperial state;

Yet Nature's care, to all her children just,

With richer treasures and an ampler state,

Endows at large whatever happy man 580

Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp,

The rural honours his. Whate'er adorns

The princely dome, the column, and the arch,

The breathing marbles and the sculptured gold,

Beyond the proud possessor's narrow claim,

His tuneful breast enjoys. For him, the Spring

Distils her dews, and from the silken gem

Its lucid leaves unfolds; for him, the hand

Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch

With blooming gold and blushes like the morn. 590

Each passing Hour sheds tribute from her wings;

And still new beauties meet his lonely walk,

And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze [Endnote NN]

Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes

The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain

From all the tenants of the warbling shade

Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake

Fresh pleasure, unreproved. Nor thence partakes

Fresh pleasure only; for the attentive mind,

By this harmonious action on her powers 600

Becomes herself harmonious; wont so oft

In outward things to meditate the charm

Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home

To find a kindred order, to exert

Within herself this elegance of love,

This fair-inspired delight; her temper'd powers

Refine at length, and every passion wears

A chaster, milder, more attractive mien.

But if to ampler prospects, if to gaze

On Nature's form, where, negligent of all 610

These lesser graces, she assumes the port

Of that Eternal Majesty that weigh'd

The world's foundations, if to these the mind

Exalts her daring eye, then mightier far

Will be the change, and nobler. Would the forms

Of servile custom cramp her generous powers?

Would sordid policies, the barbarous growth

Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down

To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear?

Lo! she appeals to Nature, to the winds 620

And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course,

The elements and seasons; all declare

For what the Eternal Maker has ordain'd

The powers of man; we feel within ourselves

His energy divine; he tells the heart,

He meant, he made us to behold and love

What he beholds and loves, the general orb

Of life and being; to be great like him,

Beneficent and active. Thus the men

Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himself 630

Hold converse; grow familiar, day by day,

With his conceptions, act upon his plan;

And form to his, the relish of their souls.

_NOTES_

* * * * *

BOOK FIRST.

ENDNOTE A.

_'Say why was man'_, etc.--P.8.

In apologising for the frequent negligences of the sublimest authors

of Greece, 'Those godlike geniuses,' says Longinus, 'were well

assured, that Nature had not intended man for a low-spirited or

ignoble being: but bringing us into life and the midst of this wide

universe, as before a multitude assembled at some heroic solemnity,

that we might be spectators of all her magnificence, and candidates

high in emulation for the prize of glory; she has therefore

implanted in our souls an inextinguishable love of everything great

and exalted, of everything which appears divine beyond our

comprehension. Whence it comes to pass, that even the whole world is

not an object sufficient for the depth and rapidity of human

imagination, which often sallies forth beyond the limits of all that

surrounds us. Let any man cast his eye through the whole circle of

our existence, and consider how especially it abounds in excellent

and grand objects, he will soon acknowledge for what enjoyments

and pursuits we were destined. Thus by the very propensity of

nature we are led to admire, not little springs or shallow rivulets,

however clear and delicious, but the Nile, the Rhine, the Danube,

and, much more than all, the Ocean,' etc.

--_Dionys. Longin. de Sublim_. ss. xxiv.

ENDNOTE B.

_'The empyreal waste'_.--P. 9.

'Ne se peut-il point qu'il y a un grand espace au-delà de la région

des étoiles? Que ce soit le ciel empyrée, ou non, toujours cet

espace immense quî environne toute cette region, pourra être rempli

de bonheur et de gloire. Il pourra être conçu comme l'océan, òu se

rendent les fleuves de toutes les créatures bienheureuses, quand

elles seront venues à leur perfection dans le système des étoiles.'

--_Leibnitz dans la Theodicée_, part i. par. 19.

ENDNOTE C.

_'Whose unfading light'_, etc.--P. 9.

It was a notion of the great Mr. Huygens, that there may be fixed

stars at such a distance from our solar system, as that their light

should not have had time to reach us, even from the creation of the

world to this day.

ENDNOTE D.

_'The neglect

Of all familiar prospects'_, etc.--P. 10.

It is here said, that in consequence of the love of novelty, objects

which at first were highly delightful to the mind, lose that effect

by repeated attention to them. But the instance of habit is opposed

to this observation; for there, objects at first distasteful are in

time rendered entirely agreeable by repeated attention.

The difficulty in this case will be removed if we consider, that,

when objects at first agreeable, lose that influence by frequently

recurring, the mind is wholly passive, and the perception involuntary;

but habit, on the other hand, generally supposes choice and activity

accompanying it: so that the pleasure arises here not from the object,

but from the mind's conscious determination of its own activity; and

consequently increases in proportion to the frequency of that

determination.

It will still be urged perhaps, that a familiarity with disagreeable

objects renders them at length acceptable, even when there is no

room for the mind to resolve or act at all. In this case, the

appearance must be accounted for one of these ways.

The pleasure from habit may be merely negative. The object at first

gave uneasiness: this uneasiness gradually wears off as the object

grows familiar: and the mind, finding it at last entirely removed,

reckons its situation really pleasurable, compared with what it had

experienced before.

The dislike conceived of the object at first, might be owing to

prejudice or want of attention. Consequently the mind being

necessitated to review it often, may at length perceive its own

mistake, and be reconciled to what it had looked on with aversion.

In which case, a sort of instinctive justice naturally leads it to

make amends for the injury, by running toward the other extreme of

fondness and attachment.

Or lastly, though the object itself should always continue

disagreeable, yet circumstances of pleasure or good fortune may

occur along with it. Thus an association may arise in the mind, and

the object never be remembered without those pleasing circumstances

attending it; by which means the disagreeable impression which it at

first occasioned will in time be quite obliterated.

ENDNOTE E.

_'This desire

Of objects new and strange'_.--P. 10.

These two ideas are oft confounded; though it is evident the mere

novelty of an object makes it agreeable, even where the mind is not

affected with the least degree of wonder: whereas wonder indeed

always implies novelty, being never excited by common or well-known

appearances. But the pleasure in both cases is explicable from the

same final cause, the acquisition of knowledge and enlargement of

our views of nature: on this account it is natural to treat of them

together.

ENDNOTE F.

_'Truth and Good are one,

And Beauty dwells in them'_, etc.--P. 14.

'Do you imagine,' says Socrates to Aristippus, 'that what is good is

not beautiful? Have you not observed that these appearances always

coincide? Virtue, for instance, in the same respect as to which we

call it good, is ever acknowledged to be beautiful also. In the

characters of men we always [1] join the two denominations together.

The beauty of human bodies corresponds, in like manner, with that

economy of parts which constitutes them good; and in every

circumstance of life, the same object is constantly accounted both

beautiful and good, inasmuch as it answers the purposes for which it

was designed.'

--_Xenophont. Memorab. Socrat_. 1.iii.c.8.

This excellent observation has been illustrated and extended by the

noble restorer of ancient philosophy. (See the _Characteristics_, vol.

ii., pp. 339 and 422, and vol. iii., p. 181.) And another ingenious

author has particularly shewn, that it holds in the general laws of

nature, in the works of art, and the conduct of the sciences

(_Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue_,

treat, i. Section 8). As to the connexion between beauty and truth,

there are two opinions concerning it. Some philosophers assert an

independent and invariable law in nature, in consequence of which

all rational beings must alike perceive beauty in some certain

proportions, and deformity in the contrary. And this necessity being

supposed the same with that which commands the assent or dissent of

the understanding, it follows, of course, that beauty is founded on

the universal and unchangeable law of truth.

But others there are who believe beauty to be merely a relative and

arbitrary thing; that, indeed, it was a benevolent provision in

nature to annex so delightful a sensation to those objects which are

best and most perfect in themselves, that so we might be engaged to

the choice of them at once, and without staying to infer their

usefulness from their structure and effects; but that it is not

impossible, in a physical sense, that two beings, of equal

capacities for truth, should perceive, one of them beauty, and the

other deformity, in the same proportions. And upon this supposition,

by that truth which is always connected with beauty, nothing more

can be meant than the conformity of any object to those proportions

upon which, after careful examination, the beauty of that species is

found to depend. Polycletus, for instance, a famous ancient sculptor,

from an accurate mensuration of the several parts of the most perfect

human bodies, deduced a canon or system of proportions, which was

the rule of all succeeding artists. Suppose a statue modelled

according to this: a man of mere natural taste, upon looking at it,

without entering into its proportions, confesses and admires its

beauty; whereas a professor of the art applies his measures to the

head, the neck, or the hand, and, without attending to its beauty,

pronounces the workmanship to be just and true.

[Footnote 1: This the Athenians did in a peculiar manner, by the

words [Greek: kalokagathus] and [Greek: kalokagathia].]

ENDNOTE G.

'_As when Brutus rose_,' etc.--P. 18.

Cicero himself describes this fact--'Cassare interfecto--statim

cruentum alte extollens M. Brutus pugionem, Ciceronem nominatim

exclamavit, atque ei recuperatam libertatem est gratulatus.'

--_Cic. Philipp_. ii. 12.

ENDNOTE H.

'_Where Virtue rising from the awful depth

Of Truth's mysterious bosom_,' etc.--P. 20.

According to the opinion of those who assert moral obligation to be

founded on an immutable and universal law; and that which is usually

called the moral sense, to be determined by the peculiar temper of

the imagination and the earliest associations of ideas.

ENDNOTE I.

'_Lycéum_.'--P. 21.

The school of Aristotle.

ENDNOTE J.

'_Academus_.'--P. 21.

The school of Plato.

ENDNOTE K.

'_Ilissus_.'--P. 21.

One of the rivers on which Athens was situated. Plato, in some of

his finest dialogues, lays the scene of the conversation with

Socrates on its banks.

* * * * *

BOOK SECOND.

ENDNOTE L

'_At last the Muses rose_,' etc.--P. 22.

About the age of Hugh Capet, founder of the third race of French

kings, the poets of Provence were in high reputation; a sort of

strolling bards or rhapsodists, who went about the courts of princes

and noblemen, entertaining them at festivals with music and poetry.

They attempted both the epic, ode, and satire; and abounded in a

wild and fantastic vein of fable, partly allegorical, and partly

founded on traditionary legends of the Saracen wars. These were the

rudiments of Italian poetry. But their taste and composition must

have been extremely barbarous, as we may judge by those who followed

the turn of their fable in much politer times; such as Boiardo,

Bernardo, Tasso, Ariosto, etc.

ENDNOTE M.

'_Valclusa_.'--P. 22.

The famous retreat of Francisco Petrarcha, the father of Italian

poetry, and his mistress, Laura, a lady of Avignon.

ENDNOTE N.

'_Arno_.'--P. 22.

The river which runs by Florence, the birth-place of Dante and

Boccaccio.

ENDNOTE O.

'_Parthenopé_.'--P. 23.

Or Naples, the birth-place of Sannazaro. The great Torquato Tasso was

born at Sorrento in the kingdom of Naples.

ENDNOTE P.

'_The rage

Of dire ambition_,' etc.--P. 23.

This relates to the cruel wars among the republics of Italy, and

abominable politics of its little princes, about the fifteenth

century. These, at last, in conjunction with the papal power,

entirely extinguished the spirit of liberty in that country, and

established that abuse of the fine arts which has been since

propagated over all Europe.

ENDNOTE Q.

'_Thus from their guardians torn, the tender arts_,' etc.--P. 23.

Nor were they only losers by the separation. For philosophy itself,

to use the words of a noble philosopher, 'being thus severed from

the sprightly arts and sciences, must consequently grow dronish,

insipid, pedantic, useless, and directly opposite to the real

knowledge and practice of the world.' Insomuch that 'a gentleman,'

says another excellent writer, 'cannot easily bring himself to like

so austere and ungainly a form: so greatly is it changed from what

was once the delight of the finest gentlemen of antiquity, and their

recreation after the hurry of public affairs! From this condition it

cannot be recovered but by uniting it once more with the works of

imagination; and we have had the pleasure of observing a very great

progress made towards their union in England within these few years.

It is hardly possible to conceive them at a greater distance from

each other than at the Revolution, when Locke stood at the head of

one party, and Dryden of the other. But the general spirit of liberty,

which has ever since been growing, naturally invited our men of wit

and genius to improve that influence which the arts of persuasion

gave them with the people, by applying them to subjects of

importance to society. Thus poetry and eloquence became considerable;

and philosophy is now, of course, obliged to borrow of their

embellishments, in order even to gain audience with the public.

ENDNOTE R.

'_From passion's power alone_,' etc.--P. 26.

This very mysterious kind of pleasure, which is often found in the

exercise of passions generally counted painful, has been taken

notice of by several authors. Lucretius resolves it into self-love:--

'Suave mari magno,' etc., lib. ii. 1.

As if a man was never pleased in being moved at the distress of a

tragedy, without a cool reflection that though these fictitious

personages were so unhappy, yet he himself was perfectly at ease and

in safety. The ingenious author of the _Reflections Critiques sur la

Poésie et sur la Peinture_ accounts for it by the general delight

which the mind takes in its own activity, and the abhorrence it

feels of an indolent and inattentive state: and this, joined with the

moral approbation of its own temper, which attends these emotions

when natural and just, is certainly the true foundation of the

pleasure, which, as it is the origin and basis of tragedy and epic,

deserved a very particular consideration in this poem.

ENDNOTE S.

'_Inhabitant of earth_,' etc.--P. 31.

The account of the economy of Providence here introduced, as the

most proper to calm and satisfy the mind when under the compunction

of private evils, seems to have come originally from the Pythagorean

school: but of the ancient philosophers, Plato has most largely

insisted upon it, has established it with all the strength of his

capacious understanding, and ennobled it with all the magnificence

of his divine imagination. He has one passage so full and clear on

this head, that I am persuaded the reader will be pleased to see it

here, though somewhat long. Addressing himself to such as are not

satisfied concerning divine Providence: 'The Being who presides over

the whole,' says he, 'has disposed and complicated all things for

the happiness and virtue of the whole, every part of which,

according to the extent of its influence, does and suffers what is

fit and proper. One of these parts is yours, O unhappy man, which

though in itself most inconsiderable and minute, yet being connected

with the universe, ever seeks to co-operate with that supreme order.

You in the meantime are ignorant of the very end for which all

particular natures are brought into existence, that the

all-comprehending nature of the whole may be perfect and happy;

existing, as it does, not for your sake, but the cause and reason of

your existence, which, as in the symmetry of every artificial work,

must of necessity concur with the general design of the artist, and

be subservient to the whole of which it is a part. Your complaint

therefore is ignorant and groundless; since, according to the

various energy of creation, and the common laws of nature, there is

a constant provision of that which is best at the same time for you

and for the whole.--For the governing intelligence clearly beholding

all the actions of animated and self-moving creatures, and that

mixture of good and evil which diversifies them, considered first of

all by what disposition of things, and by what situation of each

individual in the general system, vice might be depressed and subdued,

and virtue made secure of victory and happiness with the greatest

facility and in the highest degree possible. In this manner he

ordered through the entire circle of being, the internal

constitution of every mind, where should be its station in the

universal fabric, and through what variety of circumstances it

should proceed in the whole tenor of its existence.' He goes on in

his sublime manner to assert a future state of retribution, 'as well

for those who, by the exercise of good dispositions being harmonised

and assimilated into the divine virtue, are consequently removed to

a place of unblemished sanctity and happiness; as of those who by

the most flagitious arts have risen from contemptible beginnings to

the greatest affluence and power, and whom you therefore look upon

as unanswerable instances of negligence in the gods, because you are

ignorant of the purposes to which they are subservient, and in what

manner they contribute to that supreme intention of good to the whole.'

--_Plato de Leg_. x. 16.

This theory has been delivered of late, especially abroad, in a

manner which subverts the freedom of human actions; whereas Plato

appears very careful to preserve it, and has been in that respect

imitated by the best of his followers.

ENDNOTE T.

'_One might rise,

One order_,' etc.--P. 31.

See the _Meditations_ of Antoninus and the _Characteristics_, passim.

ENDNOTE U.

'_The best and fairest_,' etc.--P. 32.

This opinion is so old, that Timaeus Locrus calls the Supreme Being

[Greek: demiourgos tou beltionos], the artificer of that which is

best; and represents him as resolving in the beginning to produce

the most excellent work, and as copying the world most exactly from

his own intelligible and essential idea; 'so that it yet remains, as

it was at first, perfect in beauty, and will never stand in need of

any correction or improvement.' There can be no room for a caution

here, to understand the expressions, not of any particular

circumstances of human life separately considered, but of the sum or

universal system of life and being. See also the vision at the end

of the _Theodicée_ of Leibnitz.

ENDNOTE V.

'_As flame ascends_,' etc.--P. 32.

This opinion, though not held by Plato nor any of the ancients, is

yet a very natural consequence of his principles. But the

disquisition is too complex and extensive to be entered upon here.

ENDNOTE W.

'_Philip_.'--P. 44.

The Macedonian.