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Enkamion gar aotes Uumnon ep' allot' allon os te me- lissa thunei logon.[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 aegri somnia vanae Finguntur species, ut nec pes, nec caput uni Reddatur formae[75].
This is the character of the Ode to Thrasidaeus the Theban, in which the Poet is insensibly led from one digression to another, until his readers lose sight of the 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: Dei de tous muthous sunistanai, kai te lexei sunapergazesthai onti malista pros ommaton tethemenon. Houto gar an' enargestata horon hosper par autois gignomenos tois prattomenois, heuriskoi to prepon, kai hekista an' lanthanoito ta hupenantia. Arist. Poet. c. 17.]
[Footnote 80: Thus Cicero tells us. Nec est majus in dicendo, quam ut Orator sic moveatur, ut impetu quodam animi, & perturbatione magis quam concilio regatur. Plura enim multo homines judicant odio, & amore, & cupiditate, &c. quam veritate & praescripto. De Orat. Lib. II. c. 42.]
It is obvious, that in Lyric Poetry the Author cannot run into this series of methodised allegory, because the subjects of the Ode are real incidents which would be disfigured by the continued action of 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,
Andra moi enepe Mousa polutropon, hos mala polla Plankthe &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.
Amphi d' andro- pon phresin amplakiai Anarithmetoi kremantai touto d' amekanon heurein Hoti nun, kai en teleu- ta phertaton andre tuchein. 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 pres 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,
MY LORD,
Your Lordship's Most Obliged, and Most Obedient Servant,
J. OGILVIE.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Errata (Noted by Transcriber):
a native of Baeotia [error for Boeotia] [Footnote 32] Hos ephasan Eourai [error for Kourai] [Footnote 34] Zeu se men I' daioisin ... [error for Idaioisin] [Pindar, Pythian X] Enkamion gar aotes Uumnon [error for humnon] [Ariosto] Le Donne, e Cavalieri, l'arme, gli amore, Le Cortesie l'audaci impresi io canto. [errors for amori ... imprese] [Odyssey] Plankthe [error for Planchthe] [Footnote 97] Gavina [error for Gravina]
Supplementary Notes:
1. Handwriting
The facsimile of the title page includes two handwritten lines between "Lord Deskfoord" and the author's name:
The last Earl of Findlater who died 1812 without issue Title claimed by Sir W^m Ogilvie Bart of Carnousie, who died Feb 20^th 1861
The two lines were probably written at different times: the first uses long "s" while the second had to have been written in or after 1861. The underlined year "1812" is an error for 1811 (October). The William Ogilvie (more often spelled Ogilvy) of the second line was born in 1810, so his claim to the title cannot have been immediate. He does not appear to have been related to the book's author.
2. Italian
The quotation from Gravina (misspelled Gavina), Della Tragedia, is given exactly as printed in note 97, including clear errors. The passage appears in the 1819 Opere Scelte (Selected Works) as:
Ne ci dobbiamo maravigliare, se corrotta la poesia, si e anche corrotta la musica: perche, come nella Ragion Poetica accennammo, tutte le arti imitative hanno una idea comune, dalla cui alterazione si alterano tutte; e particolarmente la musica dall' alterazion della poesia si cangia, come dal corpo l'ombra. Onde corrotta la poesia dai soverchi ornamenti e dalla copia delle figure, ha comunicato il suo morbo anche alla musica, ormai tanto figurata, che ha perduta quasi la natural espressione.
3. Greek
The printed Greek used no diacritics, except for the one word hos (including accent) in the Odyssey quotation. All other rough-breathing marks have been added by the transcriber. Line breaks in verse citations are as in the original.
The errors are unusual. Instead of confusing similar letters such as nu and upsilon, or garbling diacritics, the Greek passages read as if they were learned orally, and written down from memory. Substitutions of omicron (o) for omega (o) and iota for epsilon are especially common. The more significant differences between Ogilvie's text and "standard" readings are given here.
Aristotle, Poetics 1448b (in footnotes 3, 5, 6 as "c. 4"):
Kai Harmonia kai ruthmos ex arches or: tes harmonias kai tou rhuthmou ... ex arches
hoitines thereon te morphas ton agriotaton kai nekron or: hoion therion te morphas ton atimotaton kai nekron
Ta gar metra hoti moiron ton ruthmon ... or: ta gar metra hoti moria ton rhuthmon ...
Plato, Leges 669de (in footnote 7 as "Lib. XI"):
Melos de au kai ruthmous aneu rema{ton} [end of word illegible] or: melos d' au kai rhuthmon aneu rhematon
Hesiod, Theogony 31 (in footnote 31 as l. 63):
Drepsasthai theeton; epeneusan de moi auden or: drepsasai, theeton; enepneusan de moi auden
Aristotle, Poetics 1449a (in footnote 52 as "c. 4"):
... hoi de anti ton Epon tragodidaskaloi, dia to meizo kai enemotera ta schemata einai ...
or: ... hoi de anti ton epon tragododidaskaloi, dia to meizo kai entimotera ta schemata einai ...
Callimachus I. 68-69 (body text and footnote 63):
Thekao d' oionon meg' hupeirochon angeleoten, Son teraon; hat' emoisi philois endexia phainois
or: thekao d' oionon meg' hupeirochon angelioten son teraon; ha t' emoisi philois endexia phainoi
Iliad VIII. 438-443 (body text and footnote 65):
Zeus de Pater idethen eutrochon harma kai hippous Olumpond' edioke, theon d' exeketo thokous. To de kai hippous men luse klutos Ennosigaios Harmata d' ambromoisi tithei, kata lita petassas. Autos de chruseion epi thronon euruopa Zeus Hezeto, to de hupo possi megas pelemizet' Olumpos.
or: Zeus de pater Idethen euetrochon harma kai hippous Oulumpon de dioke, theon d' exiketo thokous. to de kai hippous men luse klutos ennosigaios, harmata d' am bomoisi tithei kata lita petassas: autos de chruseion epi thronon euruopa Zeus hezeto, to d' hupo possi megas pelemizet' Olumpos.
Pindar, Pythian I. 33 (footnote 69)
nausiphoretais d' adrasea or: nausiphoretois d' andrasi
Aristotle, Poetics 1455a (in footnote 79 as "c. 17"):
Dei de tous muthous sunistanai, kai te lexei sunapergazesthai onti malista pros ommaton tethemenon. Houto gar an' enargestata horon hosper par autois gignomenos tois prattomenois, heuriskoi to prepon, kai hekista an' lanthanoito ta hupenantia.
or: dei de tous muthous sunistanai kai te lexei sunapergazesthai hoti malista pro ommaton tithemenon: houto gar an enargestata [ho] horon hosper par' autois gignomenos tois prattomenois heuriskoi to prepon kai hekista an lanthanoi [to] ta hupenantia.
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