The view, my Lord, of the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients which has been
taken in the preceding part of this Essay, may probably have suggested a
Question to your Lordship, to which it is necessary that an answer
should be given, before I enter upon that part of the subject which
remains to be considered. From the observations formerly made, I am
afraid that your Lordship has been looking upon my procedure, as you
would have viewed that of the honest Irishman, who pulled an old house
about his ears, before he had reflected that it was necessary to
substitute a better in its room. In the same manner you will perhaps
think, that I have taken a good deal of pains to point out the _Defects_
of Lyric Poetry, and to assign the _Causes_ which originally produced
them; without however establishing the rules of this branch of the Art,
and without enquiring what proportion of poetic embellishment naturally
belongs to it, considered as distinguished from every other species.
Permit me therefore to observe, that my intention in the preceding
remarks will be greatly mistaken, if, when I have been endeavouring to
expose the _abuse_ of imagination, it should be thought, either that I
would wholly repress the excursions of this noble Faculty, or that I
would confine its exercise within narrow limits. It must be obvious to
every person who reflects on this subject, that Imagination presides
over every branch of the Poetic Art, and that a certain infusion of her
peculiar beauties is necessary to constitute its real and essential
character. The Poet therefore of every denomination may be said with
great propriety in an higher sense than the Orator, “to paint to the
eyes, and touch the soul, and combat with shining arms[54].” It is from
this consideration that Horace says, speaking of Poetry in general,
_Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores,
Cur ego si nequeo ignoroque, Poeta salutor_[55]?
[Footnote 54: Les grands Orateurs n’emploient que des expressions
riches capables de faire valoir leurs raisons. Ils tachent
d’eblouir les yeux, et l’esprit, et pour ce sujet ils ne
combattent qu’avec des armes brillantes. Lam. Rhet. Liv. IV.
c. 13.]
[Footnote 55: Hor. de Arte Poet.]
Though the influence of imagination on every species of Poetry is so
obvious, as not to stand in need of illustration, yet we must observe at
the same time, that this power is exerted in different degrees[56], as
the Poet is led by the nature of that subject to which his Genius hath
received the most remarkable bias. Thus the simple beauties of the
Eclogue would appear in the same light, when transposed to the Epopee,
as plants brought to forced vegetation in a Green-house must do to those
who have seen them flourishing in their native soil, and ripened by the
benignity of an happier climate. In the one case they are considered as
unnatural productions, whose beauty is surpassed by the Natives of the
soil; in the other they are regarded as just and decent ornaments, whose
real excellence is properly estimated. The same remark may be applied
indiscriminately to all the other branches of this art. Though they are
originally the offspring of _one Parent_, yet there are certain
characteristic marks, by which a general resemblance is fully
distinguished from perfect similarity.
[Footnote 56: Una cuique proposita lex, suus decor est. Habet
tamen omnis Eloquentia aliquid commune. Quintil. Instit. Lib. X
c. II.]
It is necessary to observe in general on this subject, that whatever
degree of superiority the reasoning Faculty ought ultimately to possess
in the sphere of Composition, we are not to consider this Power as
acting the same part in the work of a Poet, which it should always act
in that of a Philosopher. In the performance of the latter, an appeal to
reason is formally stated, and is carried on by the process of connected
argumentation; whereas in that of the former the Judgment is
_principally_ employed in the disposition of materials[57]. Thus the
Philosopher and the Poet are equally entitled to the character of
judicious, when the arguments of the one are just and conclusive, and
when the images of the other are apposite and natural.
[Footnote 57: In the Epopee we judge of the Genius of the Poet,
by the variety and excellence of those materials with which
Imagination enricheth his subject. His Judgment appears in the
disposition of particular images, and in the general relation
which every subordinate part bears to the principal action of the
Poem. Thus it is the business of this Faculty, as an ingenious
Critic says, “Considerer comme un corps qui no devoit pas avoir
des membres de natures differentes, et independens les uns des
autres.” Bossu du Poem. Epiq. Liv. II. ch. 2. It is true indeed,
that Tragedy is rather an address to the passions than to the
imagination of mankind. To the latter however we must refer all
those finer strokes of poetic painting, which actuate so forcibly
the affections and the heart. We may, in short, easily conceive
the importance of a warm imagination to the Dramatic Poet, by
reflecting upon the coldness and indifference with which we peruse
those pieces, which are not enlivened by the sallies of this
Faculty when it is properly corrected. Though we must acknowledge
that Passion seldom adopts the images of description, yet it must
be owned at the same time, that neither can a person who wants
imagination feel with sensibility the impulse of the Passions.
A Poet may even merit a great encomium who excels in painting the
effects, and in copying the language of Passion, though the
Disposition of his work may be otherwise irregular and faulty.
Thus Aristotle says of a celebrated dramatic Poet, Και Ὁ Ευριπιδης
ει και τα αλλα μη ευ οικονομει, αλλα ΤΡΑΓΙΚΩΤΑΤΟΣ γε των Ποιητων
φαινεται. De Poet. c. 13. Upon the whole therefore, Didactic or
Ethical Poetry is the only species in which Imagination acts but a
secondary part, because it is unquestionably the business of
reason to fix upon the most forcible arguments, as well as to
throw them into the happiest disposition. We have seen however,
in some late performances, what superior advantages this branch of
the Art receives from a just and proper infusion of the poetic
idioms.]
When your Lordship reflects on the Nature and End of Lyric Poetry,
it will appear to be at least as much characterised by the Graces of
ornament as any other species whatever. We have already seen that the
Ode was early consecrated to the purposes of Religion, and that it was
intended to raise Admiration by extolling the attributes of the Supreme
Being. On a subject of this nature the Poet probably thought, that
sublime and exuberant imagery was necessary to support the grandeur of
those sentiments which were naturally suggested to his mind[58]. Even
when these original topics were laid aside, and the Lyric Muse acted in
another sphere, her strains were still employed, either to commemorate
the actions of Deified Heroes, or to record the exploits of persons whom
rank and abilities rendered eminently conspicuous.
[Footnote 58: For this reason, says an ingenious and learned
Critic, L’Ode monte dans les Cieux, pour y empronter ses images et
ses comparaisons du tonnerre, des astres, et des Dieux memes, &c.
Reflex. Crit. Vol. I. Sect. 33.]
All these subjects afford a noble field for the play of imagination, and
it is a certain truth that the purity of composition is generally
defective, in proportion to that degree of sublimity at which the Poet
is capable of arriving[59]. Great objects are apt to confound and dazzle
the imagination. In proportion as this faculty expands to take them in,
its power of conceiving them distinctly becomes less adequate to the
subject; and when the mind is overwrought and drained as it were of
sentiment, it is no wonder that we find it sometimes attempting to
repair this loss, by substituting in the room of true sublimity an
affected pomp and exuberance of expression.
[Footnote 59: Εγω δε οιδα μεν ὡς αἱ ὑπερβολαι μεγεθους φυσαι
ἡκιστα καθαραι. Το γαρ εν παντα ακριβες, κινδυνος σμικροτητος‧ εν
δε τοις μεγεθεσιν ὡσπερ εν τοις αγαν πλουτοις, ειναι τε χρη και
παραλιγωρουμενον. Μη ποτε ηδε τουτο και αναγκαιουσιν, το τας μεν
τα{πειν}ας και μεσας φυσεις δια το μηδαμη παρακινδυνευειν μηδε
εφιεσθαι των ακρων, αδαμαρτητου ὡς επι το πολυ και ασφαλεστερας
διαφερειν. Longin. de Sublim. Sect. 33.]
That we may conceive more fully the propriety of this observation with
regard to Lyric Poetry, I shall now proceed to enquire what part
Imagination naturally claims in the composition of the Ode, and what are
the errors into which the Poet is most ready to be betrayed.
As to the first, I need not tell your Lordship, that whatever Art
proposeth as an ultimate end to excite Admiration, must owe its
principal excellence to that Faculty of the mind which delights to
contemplate the sublime and the wonderful. This indeed may be called the
sphere, in which Imagination peculiarly predominates. When we attempt,
even in the course of conversation, to paint any object whose
magnificence hath made a strong impression upon the memory, we naturally
adopt the boldest and most forcible epithets we can think of, to convey
our own idea as compleatly as possible to the mind of another. We are
prompted by a powerful propensity to retouch our description again and
again, we select the most apposite images to animate our expression;
in short, we fall without perceiving it, into the stile and figures of
poetry. If then Admiration produceth such an effect upon the mind in the
more common occurrences of life, we may conceive the superior influence
which it must have upon the imagination of a Poet, when it is wound up
to the highest pitch, and is placing a great object in every point of
light by which its excellence may most conspicuously appear. It will at
least be obvious, that in such a situation the feelings of the heart
must be more intensely animated than in any other, not only because
Genius is supposed to be the Parent of Sensibility, but as the person
who is possessed of this quality exerts the full force of his talents
and art to produce one particular effect. He endeavours (as Longinus
expresseth it) “not to be seen himself, but to place the idea which he
hath formed before the very eye of another[60].”
[Footnote 60: De Sublim. Sect. 32.]
It is a common mistake among people who have not examined this subject,
to suppose that a Poet may with greater ease excite Admiration when his
theme is sublime, than when it is such as we have been more accustomed
to contemplate[61]. This opinion is indeed plausible at the first view,
because it may be said that we go half-way to meet that Author, who
proposeth to reach an end by means which have an apparent probability to
effectuate it; but it will appear upon reflection, that this very
circumstance, instead of being serviceable, is in reality detrimental to
the Poet.
[Footnote 61: The reader will observe, that Admiration through
the whole of this part of the Essay is taken in the largest sense,
as including a considerable degree of wonder, which is however a
distinct feeling. The former is excited principally by the
sublime; the latter by the new and uncommon. These feelings are
united, when a subject of moderate dignity is treated in a sublime
manner. See the Essay, p. 47, 48.]
Admiration is a passion which can never be excited in any person, unless
when there is something great and astonishing, either in the general
disposition of a work or in some of the separate members of which it is
formed. Thus we admire a whole piece, when we observe that the parts
which compose it are placed in a striking and uncommon combination, and
we even consider one happy stroke as an indication of genius in the
Artist. It frequently happens that the subject of a Poem is of such a
nature, as that its most essential members cannot be set in any light
distinct from that in which custom and experience has led us to consider
them. Thus when the Poet addressed an Hymn to Jupiter, Diana, or Apollo,
he could not be ignorant that his readers were well apprised of the
general manner, in which it was necessary to treat of these Personages,
and that they would have been offended, if he had presumed to differ in
any material point from the opinions handed down by traditionary
evidence. It was therefore necessary, that the Poet should manage a
subject of this kind in the same manner as Rubens and Caypel have
painted the Crucifixion, by either varying _the attitude_ of the
principal object to make it more sublime and admirable, or by rendering
some _inferior figure_ picturesque and animated which had escaped the
notice of his Predecessors. When therefore a sublime object is not shown
in some great and uncommon point of view, the Poet sinks in our esteem
as much as he would have risen in it, if we had found his Genius equal
to his Ambition.
As I have already borrowed one illustration from painting, permit me to
recall to your Lordship’s memory, that noble figure by which the Church
of Rome permitted Raphael to represent the Eternal Father, a figure
which has always been considered as one of the greatest ornaments of the
galleries of the Vatican[62]. Any person may conclude that the
difficulty of succeeding in this great attempt, must have bore some
proportion to the _temerity_ (shall we call it) of venturing to design
it. If this celebrated Artist had failed of throwing into that figure an
Air wholly extraordinary, his Design would either have been considered
as rash, or his imagination censured as deficient.
[Footnote 62: Raphael is said to have stolen the expression of
this figure from Michael Angelo, who was at work on the same
subject in another part of the Vatican. We are indebted for this
curious anecdote to the ingenious Abbe du Bos. See his Reflex.
Crit. sur la Poes. et la Peint. Vol. II.]
On the contrary, the Poet who chuseth a more unpromising subject, and
displays an unexpected fertility of invention in his manner of treating
it, is admired as an Original Genius, and the perusal of his work
excites in our mind the most agreeable mixture of surprize and pleasure.
It must immediately occur to any reader who peruseth the Hymn of
Callimachus to Jupiter, that the subject was too great to be properly
managed by the correct and elegant genius of that writer. Instead of
enlarging (as we should have naturally expected) on any particular
perfection of this Supreme Deity, or even of enumerating in a poetical
manner the attributes which were commonly ascribed to Him, he entertains
us coldly with traditionary stories about His birth and education; and
the sublime part of his subject is either wholly omitted, or
superficially passed over. Thus speaking of the bird of Jove, he says
only,
Θηκαο δ’ οιωνον μεγ’ ὑπειροχον αγγελεωτην,
Σων τεραων‧ ἁτ’ εμοισι φιλοις ενδεξια φαινοις[63].
Thy bird, celestial messenger, who bears
Thy mandate thro’ the sky;--O be his flight
Propitious to my friends!
[Footnote 63: Callim. Hymn. in Jov. a lin. 68.]
Pindar introduceth this King of the feathered race in a much nobler and
more animated manner. He exhibits with true poetic enthusiasm, as an
instance of the power of harmony, the following vivid picture.
-- -- -- -- -- εὑ-
δει ανα σκαπτω Διος αιετος, ω-
κειαν πτερυγ’ αμφοτερω-
θεν χαλαξεις,
Αρχος αιωνων‧ -- --
-- -- ὁ δε κνωσσων
ὑγρον νωτον αιωρει, τεαις
ρεπαισι κατασχομενος[64].
The birds fierce Monarch drops his vengeful ire;
Perch’d on the sceptre of the Olympian King,
The thrilling darts of harmony he feels,
And indolently hangs his rapid wing,
While gentle sleep his closing eye-lids seals;
And o’er his heaving limbs, in loose array
To every balmy gale the ruffling feathers play. WEST.
[Footnote 64: Pind. Pyth. I.]
Homer never touches this sublime subject, without employing the utmost
reach of his invention to excite admiration in his reader.
Ζευς δε Πατηρ ιδηθεν ευτροχον ἁρμα και ἱππους
Ολυμπονδ’ εδιωκε, θεων δ’ εξεκετο θωκους.
Τω δε και ἱππους μεν λυσε κλυτος Εννοσιγαιος
Ἁρματα δ’ αμβρωμοισι τιθει, κατα λιτα πετασσας.
Αυτος δε χρυσειον επι θρωνον ευρυοπα Ζευς
Ἑζετο, τω δε ὑπο ποσσι μεγας πελεμιζετ’ Ολυμπος[65].
---- The Thund’rer meditates his flight
From Ida’s summits to th’ Olympian height.
Swifter than thought the wheels instinctive fly,
Flame thro’ the vast of air, and reach the sky.
’Twas Neptune’s charge his coursers to unbrace,
And fix the car on its immortal base, &c.
He whose all-conscious eyes the world behold,
Th’ eternal Thunderer, sate thron’d in gold.
High heav’n the footstool of his feet He makes,
And wide beneath him all Olympus shakes. POPE.
[Footnote 65: Iliad. Lib. VIII.]
I have mentioned these examples, as they shew the light in which a great
object will be contemplated by a man of genius; and as the reader will
observe that our admiration is not merely excited by the dignity of the
theme, but that it results from the great and uncommon circumstances
which are happily thrown into the description. Pindar, no doubt, found
it a much easier task to raise this passion in favour of Theron, whom he
artfully introduceth to the reader’s attention, after enquiring of his
Muse what God or what distinguished Heroe he should attempt to
celebrate[66].
[Footnote 66: This is one of the most artful and best conducted of
Pindar’s Odes. The introduction is abrupt and spirited, and the
Heroe of the Poem is shown to great advantage.
Αναξιφορμιγγες ὑμνοι
τινα θεον, τιν’ ἡροα,
τινα δ’ ανδρα κελαδησομεν;
ητοι πισα μεν Διος‧
Ολυμπιαδα δ’ εστα-
σεν Ηρακλεης, &c.
Θηρωνα δε τετραοριας
ἑνεκα νεκαφορου
γεγωνητεον, οπε &c. Pind. Olym. 2da.]
It is however obvious, from what hath been advanced on this subject,
that whatever may be the nature of the theme on which the Poet insists,
it is the business of Fancy to enliven the whole piece with those
natural and animating graces which lead us to survey it with admiration.
From the whole therefore it appears, that this Faculty of the mind
claims an higher share of merit in the competition of the Ode than in
any other species of Poetry; because in the other branches of this art
different ends may be obtained, and different expedients may be fallen
upon to gain them; but the most perfect kind of Lyric Poetry admits only
of that end, to the attainment of which fertility of Imagination is
indispensably requisite.
You will recollect, my Lord, a petition laid down in the beginning of
this Essay;--that “when Imagination is permitted to bestow the graces of
ornament indiscriminately, sentiments are either superficial, and thinly
scattered through a work, or we are obliged to search for them beneath a
load of superfluous colouring.” I shall now endeavour to evince the
truth of this reflection, by enquiring more particularly what are the
faults into which the Lyric Poet is most ready to be betrayed, by giving
a loose rein to that Faculty which colours and enlivens his composition.
It may be observed then in general, that we usually judge of the Genius
of a Lyric Poet by the variety of his _images_, the boldness of his
_transitions_, and the picturesque vivacity of his _descriptions_.
I shall under this head trouble your Lordship with a few reflections on
each of these considered separately.
By the Images which are employed in the Ode, I mean those illustrations
borrowed from _natural_ and often from _familiar_ objects, by which the
Poet either clears up an obscurity, or arrests the attention, and
kindles the imagination of his reader. These illustrations have very
distinct uses in the different species of poetic composition. The
greatest Masters in the Epopee often introduce metaphors, which have
only a general relation to the subject; and by pursuing these through a
variety of circumstances, they disengage the reader’s attention from the
principal object. This indeed often becomes necessary in pieces of
length, when attention begins to relax by following too closely one
particular train of ideas. It requires however great judgment in the
Poet to pursue this course with approbation, as he must not only fix
upon metaphors which in some points have a striking similarity to the
object illustrated, but even the digressive circumstances must be so
connected with it, as to exhibit a succession of sentiments which
resemble, at least remotely, the subject of his Poem[67]. It must be
obvious, at first view, that as the Lyric Poet cannot adopt this plea,
his metaphors will always have the happiest effect, when they correspond
to the object in such a manner, as to shew its compleat proportions in
the fullest point of view, without including foreign and unappropriated
epithets. This however is not the course which a Writer of imagination
will naturally follow, unless his judgment restrains the excursions of
that excentric faculty. He will, on the contrary, catch with eagerness
every image which Fancy enlivens with the richest colouring, and he will
contemplate the external beauty of his metaphor, rather than consider
the propriety with which it is applied as an illustration. It is
probably owing to this want of just attention to propriety, that the
first Lyric Poets have left such imperfect standards to the imitation of
posterity.
[Footnote 67: The reader will meet with many examples of this
liberty in the Iliad, some of which Mr. Pope has judiciously
selected in the notes of his translation. Milton, in the same
spirit, compares Satan lying on the lake of fire, to a Leviathan
slumbering on the coast of Norway; and immediately digressing from
the strict points of connection, he adds, “that the mariners often
mistake him for an island, and cast anchor on his side.” Par.
Lost, B. II. In this illustration it is obvious, that though the
Poet deviates from close imitation, yet he still keeps in view the
general end of his subject, which is to exhibit a picture of the
fallen Arch angel. See Par. Lost, B. I.]
When we examine the works of later Poets among the Ancients, we find
that even those of them who are most exceptionable in other
circumstances, have yet in a great measure corrected this mistake of
their predecessors. In the lyric Odes of Euripides and Sophocles, the
metaphors made use of are generally short, expressive, and fitted to
correspond with great accuracy to the point which requires to be
illustrated[68]. Pindar is in many instances equally happy in the choice
of his images, which are frequently introduced with address, and produce
a very striking effect[69].
[Footnote 68: The reader may consider, as an example, of the
following verses of the Ode of Sophocles to the Sun.
Πολλα γαρ ὡστ’ ακαμαντος
η Νωτου η Βορεα τις
κυματα ευρει ποντω
βαντ’ επιοντα τ’ ιδοι
οὑτο δε τον καδμογενη
τρεφει‧ το δ’ αυξει βιοτου
πολυπονον ὡστε πελαγος
κρητιον. Soph. Trachin.]
[Footnote 69: Of this the reader will find a noble instance in
Pindar’s first Pythian Ode, where he employs from the verse
beginning ναυσιφορηταις δ’ αδρασεα, &c. to the end of the stanza,
one of the happiest and most natural illustrations that is to be
met with either in the works of Pindar, or in those of any Poet
whatever. The abrupt address to Phœbus, when he applies the
metaphor, is peculiarly beautiful.]
It is likewise necessary that the Poet should take care in the higher
species of the Ode, to assign to every object that precise degree of
colour, as well as that importance in the arrangement of sentiments
which it seems peculiarly to demand. The same images which would be
considered as capital strokes in some pieces can be admitted only as
secondary beauties in others; and we might call in question both the
judgment and the imagination of that Poet who attempts to render a faint
illustration adequate to the object, by clothing it with profusion of
ornament. A defect likewise either in the choice, or in the disposition,
of images, is conspicuous in proportion to the importance of the
subject, as well as to the nature of those sentiments with which it
stands in more immediate connection. It is therefore the business of the
Lyric Poet, who would avoid the censure of competing with inequality,
to consider the colouring of which particular ideas are naturally
susceptible, and to discriminate properly betwixt sentiments, whose
native sublimity requires but little assistance from the pencil of art,
and a train of thought which (that it may correspond to the former)
demands the heightening of poetic painting. The astonishing inequalities
which we meet with, even in the productions of unquestioned Genius, are
originally to be deduced from the carelessness of the Poet who permitted
his imagination to be hurried from one object to another, dwelling with
pleasure upon a favourite idea, and passing slightly over intermediate
steps, that he may catch that beauty which fluctuates on the gaze of
Expectation.
I shall only observe further on this subject, that nothing is more
contrary to the end of Lyric Poetry, than that habit of spinning out a
metaphor which a Poet sometimes falls into by indulging the sallies of
imagination. This will be obvious, when we reflect that every branch of
the Ode is characterised by a peculiar degree of vivacity and even
vehemence both of sentiment and expression. It is impossible to preserve
this distinguishing character, unless the thoughts are diversified, and
the diction is concise. When a metaphor is hunted down (if I may use
that expression) and a description overwrought, its force and energy are
gradually lessened, the object which was originally new becomes
familiar, and the mind is satiated instead of being inflamed.
We must not think that this method of extending an illustration
discovers always a defect or sterility of the inventive Faculty. It is,
in truth, the consequence of that propensity which we naturally feel to
consider a favourite idea in every point of light, and to render its
excellence as conspicuous to others as it is to ourselves. By this means
sentiments become _superficial_, because the mind is more intent upon
their _external dress_, that their _real importance_. They are likewise
_thinly scattered through a work_, because each of them receives an
higher proportion or ornament than justly belongs to it. We frequently
judge of them likewise, in the same manner as a birthday suit is
estimated by its purchaser, not by the standard of intrinsic value, but
by the opinion of the original proprietor. Thus to superficial readers,
------ _verbum emicuit si forte decorum,
Si versus paulo concinnior unus aut alter
Injuste totum ducit, venditque poema[70]._
One simile that solitary shines
In the dry desart of a thousand lines,
Or lengthen’d thought that gleams thro’ many a page,
Has sanctified whole poems for an age. POPE.
[Footnote 70: Hor. Epist. Lib. II. Epist. 1.]
Custom, my Lord, that sovereign arbiter, from whose decision in literary
as well as in civil causes, there frequently lies no appeal, will lead
us to consider boldness of transition as a circumstance which is
peculiarly characteristic of the Ode. Lyric Poets have in all ages
appropriated to themselves the liberty of indulging imagination in her
most irregular excursions; and when a digression is remotely similar to
the subject, they are permitted to fall into it at any time by the
invariable practice of their Predecessors. Pindar expressly lays claim
to this privilege.
Εγκαμιων γαρ αωτες Υυμνων
επ’ αλλοτ’ αλλον ως τε με-
λισσα θυνει λογον.[71]
The song that spreads some glorious name
Shifts its bold wing from theme to theme;
Roves like the bee regardless o’er,
And culls the spoils of every flower.
[Footnote 71: Pin. Pyth. Ode X.]
We must indeed acknowledge in general, that when an high degree of
spirit and vivacity is required to characterize any species of
composition, the Author may be allowed to take greater liberties than we
should grant to another, whose subject demanded regularity and
connection. Let it however be observed at the same time, that this
freedom is often granted, not because the theme indispensibly requires,
but because we naturally expect it from the genius of the Writer. We
justly suppose, that the Philosopher seldom mistakes his talents so far
as to be solicitous of shining in a sphere, for which he must know
himself to be wholly disqualified; and from the work of a Poet who
addresseth imagination, we look for those marks of wildness and
incoherence which discover the extent of that faculty.
I have acknowledged in a former part of this Essay, that the shorter Ode
not only admits of bold and spirited transitions, but that these are in
many instances necessary to constitute a perfect imitation of
nature[72]. This observation however cannot be applied with so much
propriety to the other kinds of it, because the transport of passion is
abrupt, instantaneous, and the mind returns suddenly to the point from
which it had digressed. On the contrary, as the passions cannot be kept
on their full stretch for any considerable time, we expect that in the
higher species of Lyric Poetry, the Poet will keep the principal object
more immediately in his eye, and that his transitions will never make us
lose sight of it so far, as not to recall with ease the intermediate
points of connection.
[Footnote 72: Letter I. p. xxxiii.]
When this rule is not violated, we can enter with pleasure into the
design of the Poet, and consider his work as a whole in which every
separate member has its distinct and proper use. Thus, when Pindar is
celebrating Aristagoras, we can easily observe that the Poet’s oblique
encomium on the Father and friends of his Heroe, is introduced with
great propriety, as every remark of this kind reflects additional lustre
on the character of the principal personage[73]. We are even sometimes
highly entertained with digressions, which have not so near a relation
to the subject of the Ode as the last mentioned circumstance; because
though the immediate design is not going forward, we can still however
keep it in view with the same ease, as a traveller can do the public
road, from which he willingly makes an excursion to survey the
neighbouring country. Thus the noble panegyric upon the whole people
of Rhodes, and the account of their Founder Tlepolemus, which we meet
with in the Ode inscribed to Diagoras the Rhodian; these are happy and
beautiful embellishments, whose introduction enlivens the whole piece
with a proper variety of objects[74].
[Footnote 73: Pin. Nem. Ode XI.]
[Footnote 74: Id. Olym. Ode VII.]
The same principle which induceth us to approve of Poet’s transitions in
the preceding instances, must (as your Lordship will immediately
conceive) lead us to condemn those which are far-fetched, pursued too
closely, or foreign to the subject of the poem. This is frequently the
consequence of following the track of imagination with implicit
compliance, as the Poet without being sensible of his mistake runs into
one digression after another, until his work is made up of incoherent
ideas; in which, as Horace expresseth it,
velut ægri somnia vanæ
Finguntur species, ut nec pes, nec caput uni
Reddatur formæ[75].
This is the character of the Ode to Thrasidæus the Theban, in which the
Poet is insensibly led from one digression to another, until his readers
lose sight of the principal subject which is dropped almost as soon as
proposed[76].
[Footnote 75: Hor. de Art. Poet.]
[Footnote 76: Pind. Pyth. Ode XI.]
The last circumstance mentioned as characteristic of the Ode, was a
certain picturesque vivacity of description. In this we permit the Lyric
Poet to indulge himself with greater freedom than any other, because
beauties of this kind are necessary to the end of exciting admiration.
It is the peculiar province of imagination to give that life and
expression to the ideas of the mind, by which Nature is most happily and
judiciously imitated. By the help of this poetical magic the coldest
sentiments become interesting, and the most common occurrences arrest
our attention. A man of Genius, instead of laying down a series of dry
precepts for the conduct of life, exhibits his sentiments in the most
animating manner, by moulding them into symmetry, and superadding the
external beauties of drapery and colour[77]. His reader by this
expedient is led through an Elysium, in which his Fancy is alternately
soothed and transported with a delightful succession of the most
agreeable objects, whose combination at last suggests an important moral
to be impressed upon the memory. The Ancients appear to have been fully
sensible of the advantages of this method of illustrating truth, as the
works not only of their Poets, but even those of their Philosophers and
Historians abound with just and beautiful personifications[78]. Their
two allegorical Philosophers, Prodicus and Cebes, carry the matter still
further, and inculcate their lessons, by substituting in place of cool
admonition a variety of personages, who assume the most dignified
character, and address at the same time the imagination, the passions,
and even the senses of mankind[79]. These Authors consider man as a
creature possessed of different, and of limited faculties, whose actions
are directed more frequently by the impulse of passion, than regulated
by the dictates of reason and of truth[80].
[Footnote 77: Thus the reader, who would pay little regard to the
person who should forbid him to trust the world too much, will yet
be struck with this simple admonition, when it appears in the work
of a genius.
Lean not on earth, ’twill pierce thee to the heart;
A broken reed at best, but oft’ a spear,
On its sharp point Peace bleeds, and Hope expires.
NIGHT THOUGHTS.]
[Footnote 78: Thus Xenophon, the simplest and most perspicuous of
Historians, has borrowed many noble images from Homer; and Plato
is often indebted to this Poet, whom yet he banished from his
Commonwealth. Cicero in his most serious pieces studies the
_diction_, and copies the _manner_ of the Greek Philosopher; and
it evidently appears, that Thucydides has taken many a _glowing
Metaphor_ from the Odes of Pindar. We might produce many examples
of this from their writings, if these would not swell this note to
too great a length. The reader of taste may see this subject fully
discussed in Mr. Gedde’s ingenious Essay on the Composition of the
Ancients.]
[Footnote 79: Δει δε τους μυθους συνισταναι, και τη λεξει
συναπεργαζεσθαι οντι μαλιστα προς ομματων τεθεμενον. Οὑτο γαρ αν’
εναργεστατα ὁρων ὡσπερ παρ αυτοις γιγνομενος τοις πραττομενοις,
εὑρισκοι το πρεπον, και ἡκιστα αν’ λανθανοιτο τα ὑπεναντια.
Arist. Poet. c. 17.]
[Footnote 80: Thus Cicero tells us. Nec est majus in dicendo, quam
ut Orator sic moveatur, ut impetu quodam animi, & perturbatione
magis quam concilio regatur. Plura enim multo homines judicant
odio, & amore, & cupiditate, &c. quam veritate & præscripto.
De Orat. Lib. II. c. 42.]
It is obvious, that in Lyric Poetry the Author cannot run into this
series of methodised allegory, because the subjects of the Ode are real
incidents which would be disfigured by the continued action of
fictitious personages. His descriptions therefore ought to be concise,
diversified, and adapted properly to that train of sentiment which he is
employed to illustrate. When this is the case, we are highly entertained
with frequent personifications, as these are criterions by which we
estimate the genius of the Poet.
I need not, my Lord, to suggest on this branch of my subject, that it
requires the utmost delicacy to personify inanimate objects so justly,
as to render them adapted in every circumstance to the occasion on which
they are introduced. Your Lordship however will permit me to observe,
that as the happiest effect is produced upon the mind of the reader by
the judicious introduction of an ideal personage; so he is apt to be
disgusted in an equal degree, when the conduct of the Poet in this
instance is in the smallest measure irregular or defective. When an
intellectual idea falls under the cognizance of an external sense, it is
immediately surveyed with an accuracy proportioned to its importance,
and to the distance at which we suppose it to be placed. We judge of
Virtue and Vice, when represented as persons, in the same manner as we
judge of men whose appearance is suggested by memory; and we therefore
expect that these ideal figures shall be discriminated from each other
by their dress, attitudes, features, and behaviour, as much as two real
persons of opposite characters always are in the familiar intercourse of
ordinary life. In reality we assign a particular shape, complection, and
manner to the creatures of imagination, by the same rule which leads us
to ascribe a certain assemblage of features to a person whom we have
never seen, upon seeing his character particularly displayed, or upon
listening to a minute detail of his actions. Nay, odd as it may appear,
it is yet certain, that in many instances our idea of the imaginary
person may be more distinct and particular than that of the real one.
Thus we often find that the representation exhibited by Fancy of the
figure of an Heroe, whose actions had raised admiration; I say, we find
that this representation has been wide of the truth, when we come either
to see the original, or a faithful copy of it: but our ideas of
imaginary persons are generally so exact, that upon seeing a group of
these displayed on a plate, we are capable to give each its proper
designation, as soon as we observe it. Thus Anger, Revenge, Despair,
Hope, &c. can be distinguished from each other almost as easily when
they are copied by the pencil, as when _we feel their influence on our
own minds, or make others observe it on our actions_.
From this detail it obviously follows, that as our ideas of imaginary
personages are more just and accurate, than those which are excited
merely by a particular relation of the actions of real ones; so we will
judge with more certainty of the precise colouring which belongs to the
former, and of the propriety with which they are introduced, than we can
possibly do with regard to the latter. A Painter may deceive us, by
throwing into the face of an Heroe, whom we have never seen, particular
marks of resolution and fortitude, which form only a part of his
character. But we cannot be deceived with regard to the signatures which
show the predominancy of these virtues, with whatever degree of justice
they may be applied. This observation has equal force, when we refer it
to the allegorical personages of the Poet. The least impropriety in the
colouring, dress, or arrangement of objects, is immediately perceptible,
and we pass a favourable judgment, when faults of this kind are ascribed
to inattention. In short, the imaginary persons who are introduced in a
poem, must on all occasions be distinguished by peculiar characters, and
the manners attributed to each of them ought to be such as can be
applied with no propriety to any other object. Every picture must
therefore be, as Pope somewhere has it,
Something whose truth convinc’d at sight we find.
That gives us back the image of the mind.
A little reflection will enable us to discover the reason of this
difference betwixt our ideas of allegorical and of real personages.
We are (as I formerly observed) often mistaken in our notions of the
latter of these, because the mind cannot receive a sufficient degree
of information, concerning the person, to be able to form any perfect
judgment of his address or demeanour. Upon hearing, for instance,
a recital of the actions of a man who is unknown to us, our idea of
him is taken from the passion which appears to have predominated in his
conduct; but we are not acquainted with numberless little peculiarities
which enter into a complicated character, and have their corresponding
expressions imprinted on the countenance. Thus when we consider only the
martial exploits of the celebrated Duke de Vendome, we have the idea of
an Heroe full of spirit and impetuosity; but this idea would be very
imperfect as a representation of his character, if we did not know
likewise that he was slovenly, voluptuous, effeminate, and profuse[81].
[Footnote 81: Volt. Siec. Louis XIV. c. 21.]
These different ingredients, which enter into the mind of a real agent,
ought likewise to be nicely estimated as to the degrees in which they
predominate, before we could be properly qualified to judge of their
influence on his external appearance. As it is evidently impossible that
we can ever be thoroughly apprised of the former, it is therefore
obvious that our judgment of the latter must be always imperfect. On the
contrary, we are never at a loss to conceive a just idea of one simple
expression, because the Original from which the Copy is drawn exists in
our own mind. We are likewise naturally taught to distinguish properly
the insignia of imaginary creatures. Thus Fear is always known by her
_bristled hair_, Admiration by his _erected eyes_, Time has his _scythe_
and his _hour-glass_, and Fortune (unchangeable in one sense) stands
_blind_ on the _globe_, to which she was exalted by Cebes[82].
[Footnote 82: Cebet. Tab.]
I ought, my Lord, to apologize for the length of this Digression on the
nature of allegorical Persons; a subject which I have treated more
particularly, as I do not remember to have seen it canvassed minutely by
any Writer either ancient or modern.
I shall only observe further on this head, that though a Poet is seldom
in hazard of being grossly faulty, with respect to the dress and
insignia of his personages, yet intemperate imagination will induce him
to use this noble figure too frequently by personifying objects of small
comparative importance; or by leaving the simple and natural path, to
entangle himself in the labyrinth of Fiction. This is the fault which
we have already found to characterise the writings of the first Lyric
Poets, from which we should find it an hard task to vindicate their
successors, even in the most improved state of ancient learning. Instead
of producing examples of this intemperance, which the Greek Theology was
peculiarly calculated to indulge, I shall only observe in general, that
we are mistaken in thinking that the Genius of a Poet is indicated by
the diversified incidents which enter into his Fable. True Genius, even
in its most early productions, be discovered rather by _vivid_ and
_picturesque descriptions_, than by any circumstances however
extraordinary in the _narration_ of _events_. It is no difficult matter
to conceive a series of fictitious incidents, and to connect them
together in one story, though it requires judgment to do this in such a
manner, as that the whole may have some happy and continued allusion to
truth. We can imagine, for instance, with great ease something as
impossible as Ariosto’s Magician pursuing the man who had taken off his
head. But it will be found a much more difficult task, either to throw
out one of those strokes of Nature which penetrate the heart, and cleave
it with terror and with pity; or to paint Thought in such striking
colours, as to render it immediately visible to the eye[83].
[Footnote 83: Upon the principle established here, we may account
in some measure for Voltaire’s apparently paradoxical assertion,
with regard to the comparative merit of Homer and Tasso. The
Italian (says that spirited writer) has more conduct, variety and
justness than the Greek. Admitting the truth of this reflection,
we might still reply, that the principal merit of the Iliad,
considered as the production of Genius, lies in the grandeur of
the sentiments, the beauty and sublimity of the illustrations, and
the _original_ strokes which are wrought into the description of
the _principal Actors_. In all these respects we may venture to
affirm, that Homer remains without a superior among Authors
unaided by Inspiration; and the reader must be left to judge
whether or not it is from these criterions that we estimate the
Genius of a Poet. Our Author proceeds upon the same principles to
compare the Orlando Furioso with the Odyssey, and give a
preference to the former. The merit of these works may be
ascertained in some measure, by the rules we have already
established. We need only to add further on this head, that among
many beauties we meet with examples of the turgid and bombast in
the work of Ariosto; from which that of the Greek Poet is wholly
free. The two first lines of his Poem,
_Le Donne, e Cavalieri, l’arme, gli amore,
Le Cortesie l’audaci impresi io canto._
if they do not put one in mind of the Cyclic Writer mentioned by
Horace, who begins his Poem with
_Fortunam Priami cantabo, & nobile bellum._
yet are of a very different strain from those which introduce the
Odyssey,
Ανδρα μοι ενεπε Μουσα πολυτροπον, ὅς μαλα πολλα
Πλαγκθη &c.
I cannot help thinking that the whole of this introduction is
remarkably simple and unornamented, though a very judicious and
ingenious Critic seems to be of a contrary opinion.]
The noblest instances of this personification are to be found in the
Sacred Writings. Nothing can exceed the majesty, with which the descent
of the Almighty is described by the Prophet Habakkuk. “Before Him (he
tells us) went the Pestilence, &c.” then suddenly addressing the Deity
in the second person, he says “the Mountains _saw Thee_, and they
_trembled_, the Overflowing of the waters _passed by_, the _Deep uttered
his voice_, and _lift up his hands_ on high[84].” In another place, the
Deluge is nobly animated, in order to display the Omnipotence of God.
“The waters (says the Psalmist) stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke
they _fled_, at the voice of thy thunder they _hasted away_.”
[Footnote 84: Hab. ch. iii. v. 3.]
From this simple and impartial view of the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients,
considered as one branch of a cultivated Art, your Lordship will perhaps
be inclined to conclude, that in the Arts, as in the characters of men,
those which are susceptible of the highest excellence, are likewise
frequently marked with the most striking defects. This mixture of beauty
and deformity, of grandeur and meanness, which enters so often into the
action as well as the speculation of mankind, ought to be considered as
the characteristic of the human mind, which in the chimerical pursuit of
perfection is hurried by its own impetuosity from one extreme to
another. Your Lordship has, no doubt, frequently observed, that there is
upon the whole a greater uniformity in the characters of men than
superficial enquiry would lead us to conceive. A temptation operating
forcibly on the ruling passion will produce in a temper naturally gentle
and equal, an irregularity as remarkable, and sometimes carried to a
greater length, than the most powerful stimulus is able to excite in a
man of warm passions, and florid imagination. This is a fact, of which
experience will suggest examples to every person who is conversant with
mankind.
We ought not therefore to wonder, when we observe in the writings of a
Great Genius beauties and blemishes blended promiscuously, and when we
find the Poet’s imagination distinguished only by those marks of
inaccuracy which appear in the actions of others, and which are
ultimately to be derived from the complicated ingredients of the human
mind.
I have been led into this train of reflection, as it will enable us to
account for the inequalities which are to be met with in the writings of
Pindar, exposed as they have been to the admiration, and to the censure
of posterity. Whatever propriety the preceding rules may have with
regard to Lyric Poetry, it is certain that this Poet is not the standard
from whose work they are deduced. We have already seen that He himself
disclaims all conformity to the shackles of method, and that he insists
upon the privilege of giving a loose rein to the excursions of
imagination. The consequences of this proceeding are eminently
conspicuous in every part of his writings. His composition is coloured
with that rich imagery which Fancy throws upon the coldest sentiments,
his digressions are often too frequent and but remotely connected with
the principal subject, his personifications are bold and exuberant, and
he has made as free an use of theological fable as any Poet among the
Ancients.
The learned and ingenious Translator of Pindar has suggested several
striking pleas in his favour, both with respect to the _connection of
his thoughts_ and the _regularity of his measure_[85]. To resume on the
present occasion any part of what he hath advanced, would be equally
useless and improper. As to the first, I shall only add to this
Gentleman’s observations, that all the writings of Pindar which have
reached the present times are of the panegyrical kind, in which _remote
circumstances_ and _distant allusions_ are often referred to with great
propriety; that sometimes several Odes are inscribed to _the same
person_; and that all of them are wrote on subjects too _exactly
similar_ to afford room for _continued variety of description_, without
allowing him frequently to digress. It is obvious that in these
circumstances the Poet must have been forcibly prompted to indulge the
natural exuberance of his genius, that he might gain materials to fill
up his subject, and that he might pay a compliment to his Patron by some
digression on the merit of his Ancestors, as well as by an encomium on
his personal qualities[86]. If these considerations do not fully
apologize for the excursions of this Great Genius, they render them at
least more excusible in him, than the same liberties without an equal
inducement can possibly be in any of his imitators.
[Footnote 85: Mr. West. See the Preface and Notes of his
Translation.]
[Footnote 86: It is generally to be supposed, that a Poet in a
panegyrical address to his Patron will select with solicitude
every circumstance in his character and actions which excite
approbation, in order to render his encomium as perfect and
compleat as possible. When therefore he is unexpectedly engaged to
retouch a subject which he had formerly discussed, we ought to
expect, either that he will fix upon _new points of panegyric_,
which is always a matter of the greatest difficulty; or we must
indulge him in the liberty of calling in _adventitious
assistance_, when he is deprived of other materials. This appears
on many occasions to have been the case of Pindar. No less than
four of his Odes are inscribed to Hiero King of Syracuse, all on
account of his victories in the Games of Greece. Two Odes
immediately following the first to Hiero are addressed to Theron
King of Agrigentum; Psaumis of Camarina is celebrated in the 4th
and 5th Olympic; and the 9th and 10th are filled with the praises
of Agesidamus the Locrian. Every reader must make _great
allowances_ for a Poet, who was so often obliged to retouch and to
_diversify_ subjects of one kind.]
After all however we must acknowledge, that Pindar has rendered his
pieces obscure on many occasions by giving too much scope to a wild
imagination; and perhaps the true reason for which he took this liberty
was that he _imitated the example of his Predecessors_. He had seen the
first Lyric Poets indulging the boldest sallies of Fancy, and applying
to particular purposes the Mythology of their country; and as their
writings had been held in admiration by succeeding ages, instead of
being exposed to the researches of criticism, he was encouraged to
proceed in the same course, by the expectation of obtaining a similar
reward. From a passage formerly quoted, it would appear that Pindar
thought himself peculiarly exempted from conforming to rules of any kind
whatever[87], and we can suppose this opinion to have proceeded
originally from no other foundation than his knowledge of the practice
of former authors.
[Footnote 87: Vide supra, p. 57.]
I am sufficiently aware, my Lord, that some readers may object to the
preceding theory, that it is probable, if Pindar had been of opinion
that Lyric Poetry in his time stood in need of material emendations, the
same fertility of invention which enabled him to reach the heighth of
excellence in this art, without however altering its original
principles; that this would have led him likewise to invent new rules,
and to supply the deficiencies of his Predecessors. I will venture to
affirm, that this is the only species of invention, in which we have
seldom reason to expect that an Original Genius will attempt to excel.
It hath often been observed, that the earliest productions of a Great
Genius are generally the most remarkable for wildness and inequality.
A sublime imagination is always reaching at something great and
astonishing. Sometimes it seizeth the object of its pursuit, and at
others, like a person dizzy with the heighth of his station, it staggers
and falls headlong. When the mind of such a person ripens, and his
judgment arrives at its full maturity, we have reason to expect that the
strain of his competition will be more confident and masterly; but his
imagination, cramped by the rules which have been formerly laid down,
will be still desirous of _breaking_ the _old fetters_, rather than
felicitous of _inventing new ones_. Though therefore it must be
acknowledged that the same Faculty which is able to invent characters,
and to _colour_ sentiment may likewise discover the rules and principles
of an Art, yet we have no ground to hope that it will often be employed
to effectuate a purpose which an Author may consider as in some measure
prejudicial.
To compensate for the blemishes formerly mentioned, the writings of
Pindar abound with the most instructive moral sentiments, as well as
with the most exquisite beauties of descriptive poetry. The Poet often
throws in a reflection of this kind in the most natural manner, as it
seems to arise spontaneously from the subject. Thus he prepares the mind
to hear of the catastrophe of Tlepolemus by an exclamation perfectly
apposite, and appropriated to the occasion.
Αμφι δ’ ανδρω-
πων φρεσιν αμπλακιαι
Αναριθμητοι κρεμανται
τουτο δ’ αμηκανον εὑρειν
Ὁτι νυν, και εν τελευ-
τα φερτατον ανδρε τυχειν. Pin. Olym. VII.
But wrapt in error is the human mind,
And human bliss is ever insecure;
Know we what fortune yet remains behind?
Know we how long the present shall endure? WEST.
This method of introducing moral observations adds peculiar dignity and
importance to Lyric Poetry, and is likewise happily suited to the Ode,
whose diversified composition naturally admits of it.
I shall only observe further with regard to Pindar, that his character
is eminently distinguished by that noble superiority to vulgar opinions,
which is the inseparable concomitant of true genius. He appears to have
had his Zoilus as well as Homer, and to have been equally fallible of
the extent and sublimity of his own talents. Thus he compares his
enemies to a parcel of crows and magpies pursuing an eagle.
The learned Abbe Fraquier in a short dissertation on the character of
Pindar affirms, that one will discover too obvious an imitation of this
Poet in those pieces of Horace which are sublime and diversified[88]. He
mentions, as examples of this, his celebrated Odes to Virgil[89] and to
Galatea[90], intended to dissuade them from going to sea; and that in
which he so artfully represents to the Roman people the danger and
impropriety of removing the seat of the Empire to Troy[91]. Upon
comparing these with the Odes of Pindar, he says that we shall find more
strength, more energy, and more sublimity in the works of the Greek,
than in those of the Roman Poet[92]. In the three Odes formerly
mentioned, he observes that the digressions never lead us far from the
principal subject, and the Poet’s imagination appears to be too much
confined to one place. On the contrary, Pindar never curbs the
exuberance of his Genius. He celebrates promiscuously in the same Ode,
Gods, Heroes, and persons who have made a shining figure in their age
and country, by imitating illustrious examples[93].
[Footnote 88: Ce son des tableaux d’un Eleve habile, ou l’on
reconnoit la maniere du Maitre, bien qu’ on n’y retrouve pas a
beaucoup près tout son genie. Mem. de Liter. Tom. III. p. 49.]
[Footnote 89: Car. Lib. I. Od. 3.]
[Footnote 90: Id. Lib. III. Od. 27.]
[Footnote 91: Carm. Lib. III. Ode 3.]
[Footnote 92: Il est aise d’en marquer la difference sans parler
de celle du stile qui dans Pindare a toujours plus de force, plus
d’energie, & plus de noblesse que dans Horace, &c. Mem. de Lit.
ubi supra.]
[Footnote 93: Id. ibid.]
From the observations made on the manner of Horace in a preceding part
of this Essay, it is sufficiently obvious, that his Genius in Lyric
Poetry was principally fitted to excel in the composition of the shorter
Ode; and that his imagination was not so equal as that of Pindar to the
higher and more perfect species. Of the three Pieces, however, which
this Author hath mentioned as imitations of the Greek Poet, we can only
admit one to have been compleatly attempted in the manner of this Great
Master. It is that which regards the design of removing the imperial
seat to Troy. The other two Odes are highly beautiful in their kind; but
the subjects are not treated at so much length, nor with that variety of
high poetic colouring which characteriseth so eminently the writings of
the latter. The Ode to the Roman people is indeed composed in an higher
strain, and is full of that enthusiasm which the subject might naturally
be supposed to excite in the mind of a Poet, who was animated by the
love of his country. Through the whole of this noble performance, the
address of the Author, and the emphatical energy with which the
sentiments are conveyed, deserve to be equally the objects of
admiration. The Poem opens with a just and poetical description of the
security of Virtue; from which the Poet takes occasion to introduce an
artful compliment to Augustus, whom he ranks with Bacchus and Romulus;
on the ascent of which last to heaven, Juno expresseth her aversion to
the repeopling of Troy. She breaks abruptly into the subject, in a
manner expressive of eager solicitude.
---- _Ilion, Ilion,
Fatalis incestusque Judex
Et Mulier peregrina vertit
In pulverem[94]._
Troy,--perjured Troy has felt
The dire effects of her proud tyrant’s guilt;--
An Umpire partial and unjust,
And a lewd woman’s impious lust,
Lay heavy on her head, and sunk her to the dust. ADDISON.
[Footnote 94: Car. Lib. III. Od. 3.]
She then proceeds in the most artful manner to insinuate, that as the
destruction of this city was occasioned by her ingratitude to the Gods,
as well as by the particular injury done to her and Minerva, if Troy
should be thrice rebuilt by the hand of Apollo, the Greeks would thrice
be permitted to overturn it; and
---- _ter Uxor
Capta, virum puerosque ploret[95]._
Thrice should her captive dames to Greece return,
And their dead sons, and slaughter’d Husbands mourn. ADDISON.
[Footnote 95: Id. ibid.]
The prosperity which she promiseth to the Roman arms is therefore
granted, only upon condition that they never think of rebuilding this
detested city.
From the preceding short account of this celebrated Ode, it will appear
that the transitions are extremely artful, the sentiments noble, and
that the whole conduct is happy and judicious. These, if I mistake not,
are the distinguishing excellencies of the larger Odes of Horace, in
which the Poet’s _didactic_ genius is remarkably conspicuous. Perhaps
however, your Lordship, like the French Critic, is at a loss to find in
all this, the energy, the vehemence, the exuberance of Pindar. Horace
himself was perfectly sensible of the superior excellence of the Greek
Poet, and never rises to truer sublimity than when he is drawing his
character. The following image is great, and appropriated to the
subject.
_Monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres
Quem super notas aluere ripas
Fervet, immensusque _ruit_ profundo
Pindarus ore[96]._
Pindar like some fierce torrent swoln with show’rs,
Or sudden Cataracts of melting Snow,
Which from the Alps its headlong Deluge pours,
And foams, and thunders o’er the Vales below,
With desultory fury borne along,
Rolls his impetuous, vast, unfathomable song. WEST.
[Footnote 96: Car. Lib. IV. Od. 2.]
I know not, my Lord, how it happens, that we generally find ourselves
more highly pleased with excess and inequality in poetic composition,
than with the serene, the placid, and the regular progression of a
corrected imagination. Is it because the mind is satiated with
uniformity of any kind, and that remarkable blemishes, like a few barren
fields interspersed in a landschape give additional lustre to the more
cultivated scenery? Or does it proceed from a propensity in human nature
to be pleased, when we observe a great Genius sometimes _sinking as far
below the common level_, as at others, he is capable of _rising above
it_? I confess, that I am inclined to deduce this feeling more
frequently from the _former_ than from the _latter_ of these causes;
though I am afraid that the warmest _benevolence_ will hardly prevail
upon your Lordship not to attribute it in some instances to _a mixture
of both_.
Whatever may be in this, it is certain that the Odes of Horace, in which
he has professedly imitated Pindar, are much more correct and faultless
than these of his Master. It would, perhaps, be saying too much, to
affirm with some Critics, that the judgment of the Roman Poet was
superior to that of his Rival; but it is obvious, that the operation of
this Faculty is more remarkable in his writings, because his imagination
was more ductile and pliable. --Upon the whole, therefore, we shall not
do injustice to these two great men, if we assign to their works the
same degree of comparative excellence, which the Italians ascribe to the
pieces of Dominichino and Guido. The former was a _great_ but an
_unequal Genius_; while the more corrected performances of the latter
were _animated by the Graces_, and _touched by the pencil of
Elegance_[97].
[Footnote 97: The Reader will observe, that nothing has been said
in this Essay on the regularity of the measure of Pindar’s Odes.
This subject is treated so fully in the preface of Mr. West’s
Translation, that we need only here to refer the curious to his
remarks. The Ancient Odes are always to be considered as songs
which were set to musick, and whose recital was generally
accompanied with dancing. If we may be permitted to form an idea
of this music, from the nature and composition of the Ode, it must
have been a matter of great difficulty to excel in it, as it is
certain that poems which abound with sentiments are more proper to
be set to music, than those which are ornamented with imagery.
These sister-arts usually keep pace with each other, either in
their improvement or decay. Ne ci dobbiamo (says an ingenious
Foreigner, speaking of the modern Italian music) maravigliare,
ce corrotta la Poesia, s’e anche corrotta la musica; perche come
nella ragior poetica accennammo, tutte le arti imitative hanno
una idea commune, dalla cui alterazione si alterano tutte,
e particolarmenti la musica dall alterazion del la poesia si cangia
come dal corpo l’ombra. Onde corrotta la poesia da e soverchi
ornamenti e dalla copia delle figure, ha communicato anche il suo
morbo alla musica, ormai tanto sfigurata, che ha perduta quasi la
natural est pressione. Gavina della Traged. p. 70.]
I am afraid, that your Lordship is now thinking it high time to
bring the whole of this detail to a period.----Upon reviewing the
observations made on the Lyric Poetry of the Ancients through the
preceding part of this Essay, you will find that the subject has been
considered under the three following heads. In the first part I have
attempted to lay before your Lordship, the state of Lyric Poetry in the
earliest ages, as it appears from what we can collect either of the
character of the writings of Amphion, Linus, Orpheus, Museus, and
Hesiod. In the course of this enquiry I have had occasion to assign the
causes, whose concurrence rendered this branch of the poetic Art less
perfect at its first introduction than any of the other species. --Upon
advancing a little further, a richer and more diversified prospect
opened to the imagination. In _the first dawn_ of this more enlightened
period, we meet with the names of Alcaeus and Sappho, who, without
altering _the original character_ of the Ode, made a considerable change
on the _subjects_ to which it was appropriated; and in _the full
meridian_ of Science, we find this second form of Lyric Poetry brought
to its highest perfection in the writings of Horace. --Some remarks on
the nature of those beauties which are peculiarly characteristic of the
_higher species_ of the Ode, and on the part which Imagination
particularly claims in its composition, led me to mention, a few rules,
the exact observation of which will, perhaps, contribute to render this
species of poetry more correct and regular, without retrenching any part
of its _discriminating_ beauties, and without straitning too much the
Genius of the Poet. With this view I have endeavoured to characterize
impartially the pindaric manner, by pointing out _its excellencies_, by
enumerating _its defects_, and by enquiring from what particular causes
the latter are to be deduced.
I consider it, my Lord, as a circumstance particularly agreeable on the
present occasion, that the Persons who are most capable to observe the
_defects_ of an Author, are likewise commonly the readiest to _excuse
them_. Little minds, like the fly on the Edifice, will find many
inequalities in _particular members_ of a work, which an enlarged
understanding either overlooks as insignificant, or contemplates as _the
mark of human imperfection_. I am, however, far from intending to
insinuate, that feelings of this nature will prevail on your Lordship to
consider real blemishes merely as the effects of an inadvertency, which
is excusable in proportion to the intricacy of a subject. I have been
induced to throw together the preceding remarks, with an intention to
rescue Lyric Poetry from the contempt in which it has been unjustly held
by Authors of unquestioned penetration, to prove that it is naturally
susceptible of the _highest poetic beauty_; and that under proper
regulations, it may be made subservient to purposes as beneficial as any
other branch of the Art. These facts will indeed be sufficiently obvious
to persons unacquainted with the Ancients, by perusing the works of
eminent _Poets_ of the present age, whose names it would be superfluous
to mention. I dismiss this attempt, and the pieces which accompany it,
to the judgment of the public, with that timidity and diffidence which
the review of so many great names, and the sense of Inexperience are
fitted to inspire. Whatever may be the fate of either, I shall remember,
with pleasure, that they have afforded me an opportunity of testifying
that high and respectful esteem, with which I have the Honour to be,