1 Associations of Nature may be varied, combined, mixed, almost to infinitude, yet the basis be the same, as to poetical principles, which are referred through all, to the source of what is sublime, beautiful, and pathetic; and thus, the eternal line of poetic excellence will NOT be defined by some arbitrary criterion," nor will the inquiry terminate "in false criticism and absurd depreciation," but by unvarying principles of "JUST CRITICISM and FAIR AP PRECIATION." Having thus examined in return this critic's "Theory," let me be indulged in comparing what he calls "Mr. Bowles's passions, touched his own character as a poet, who certainly was more distinguished for painting "manners than reaching the great sublime of his art; and therefore he covertly brings in Horace's opinion, which he thinks is in favor of a poem, considerable part of which is founded on manners. But Horace, in what he said of the Odyssey, either in the Epistle to Lollius, or in the Art of Poetry, had not in view poetry, but morals only. In the Epistle to Lollius, who appears from the text to be a young man likely to be led away by his passions, he especially points out the example of virtue and wisdom: how Ulysses avoided the cup of Circe, and turned from the song of the Syrens! Then he proceeds to speak of the intemperance of the suitors, &c. Morals and not poetry were the objects of this epistle, addressed to a young man, who thus might learn from his own early studies, not so much the lessons of taste, but what he more needed, regulation of conduct. In the Art of Poetry, when Horace speaks particularly of the unassuming introduction of the Odyssey, in opposition to the bombast style which he reproves, he fixes the imagination directly on the poetical parts of the Odyssey, arising from an humble beginning, like fire rising from smoke,—and expressly says of Homer, that from hence he draws "speciosa miracula, Antiphaten, Scyllam, et cum Cyclope Charybdin." And Horace has not left unrecorded his precise definition of poetry, when he says so distinctly, "Neque, si quis scribat, uti nos, Sermoni propiora, PUTES hunc esse Poëtam. Magna sonaturum, des NOMINIS HUJUS HONOREM." And he brings an example more particular still, that there might never be a misunderstanding of his meaning in appreciating the high rank of the Father of Poetry: "Non, si priores Mæonius tenet Stesichorique graves Camœnæ. Now, would any one think, that because Horace gave the first place to Homer, he "depreciates," or sought to depreciate, the exquisite beauty of Sappho? Nature," and what I may surely call his-IN-DOOR NA TURE. "Nature," he profoundly observes, "is a critical term which the Bowles's have been two thousand years EXPLAINING!" Who and what the Bowles's are, I know as little as this philosopher, when he "sits down to square the circle," knows of Nature; but this I am sure, the family of the Bowles's are honored by the remark, in as much as they may be considered lovers of the great prototype of all that is sublime or beautiful in art. If any "explanation" were necessary, the Bowles's need not be consulted, when even in criticism, the expressive language was at hand, from authority that will not be doubted: "First, follow NATURE, and your judgment frame At once the SOURCE, and END, and TEST, of ART!!" Essay on Criticism. This general opinion, thus admirably and elegantly expressed, will be quite sufficient to justify me in what I have laid down, even if it should not be so clear as I wish to make it, to this critic and if the BOWLES's have been for two thousand years ringing chimes and changes on the term "Nature," they may well imagine the "Gilchrists," and perhaps some few others, may indeed hope to succeed in their "favorite studies of squaring the circle" before they can comprehend it-certainly they must look beyond that "Nature" which is bounded by "four walls!" and which, blind to the magnificence of Nature all around them, they facetiously designate as "In-door" Nature, and think a poet, who preferred this Nature, to be in the same FILE with Homer, and Shakspeare, and Milton, and Dante! At all events, my meaning having been so grossly, and I believe wilfully, perverted, I would here address some explanatory observations to the reader. Any attempt to illustrate these principles, which I thought every one would instantly admit, must be foolish to a person who declares that subject, and execution, of a poem, are dark as mystic dreams-I therefore take this opportunity of making a few more general observations on this subject : Mr. Campbell made an unfortunate appeal to Milton, with respect to his having, in his sublimest parts of Paradise Lost, drawn images from art. I hope to be excused, if, in speaking on this point, I examine somewhat more closely Milton's examples in general. There are some passages which, without considering the cause, strike almost every reader with a kind of instinctive and involun tary dislike. Some of these passages will perhaps instantly occur. Who does not draw back with peculiar distaste, from those passages, where the Satanic army bring their great guns charged with the gunpowder! Why is this? Because an image from art is brought too close, and too immediately and distinctly to our view! The same may be said, when the Creator applies the "golden compasses" to mark the orb of the world! The image is taken from art, and brought too distinctly into our view! The same may be said, when Death and Sin build a "bridge" from Hell to this world! - These images from art are all too manifestly and too minutely in sight. But this is not the case in general, where Milton introduces images from art. They are placed before us, if I may say so, by a single evanescent touch-you are not left to dwell on them and most commonly some epithet is added to generalise them with higher imagery. Thus, if the trumpet is mentioned, an indistinct grandeur is given to it by the epithet "the ARCHANGEL trumpet." The wheels of the brazen chariot are alive-"The madding wheels of brazen chariots raged." If Satan lifts his shield, it is the "rocky orb of vast circumference." The "swords" are fiery" the "shields" "two BRIGHT SUNS, THAT BLAZE opposite.' The adjunct, generally from some magnificent object in Nature, thrown in, subdues what has a too mechanical appearance, and this tends to exalt the image as well as to prevent the imagination dwelling too minutely on it. I cannot expect to make myself understood by the critic; but I think the general reader will clearly perceive the justice of my remark. Gold-the most precious stones, are often added as epithets, where the naked image from art wants exalting-in other cases, a word is joined for the sake of taking off and shadowing, if I may say so, the too distinctive glare of an artificial image. It is for want of attending to this nice propriety, (which in Milton, with the exception of some passages, appears instinctive,) that Cowley is generally so absurd in his imagery,-as when he makes Art and Nature coachman and postilion, &c. If Cowley had used the image of the angel unfurling Satan's standard from the "staff," he would, probably, have so minutely described it as to have revolted us. Milton scarce touches the image; but how does he instantly exalt it, by associating it with the most striking and awful image from Nature: "a Cherub tall, The building of Pandemonium is associated with ideas of superearthly POWER. When it rises "LIKE AN EXHALATION, to the sound Of dulcet symphonies," every thing accords with the ideas of immense size and grandeur. Is not this in some measure destroyed, when Milton speaks more minutely of pilasters, and Doric pillars, and architraves, and cornice, and frieze? And how repulsive is the image (it is to me) of Belial himself digging out the gold, pounding the ore, and scumming the dross; and the simile of the "sound-board," and row of pipes of the organ! One image is peculiar, and very sublime, in the use of an image drawn from art, where Satan "above the rest, In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Here is an instant image of immoveable strength: but if the "tower" had been particularised, by one stroke introducing battlements, pinnacles, corbels, &c. the image would have lost so much grandeur; but the "stood, like a tower," at once conveys a distinct idea of stately and immoveable strength, by one word; and it may here be observed, having spoken of the "sounding-board" of an organ, that almost all musical instruments, as sounding, (not otherwise,) are poetical. Why? Because the sound instantly assimilates itself with some kindred feeling or passion-as the flute with tenderness, the viol with sprightliness, the trumpet with heroic animation. Scott, of Amwell, has made a fine and original use of the drum by the association of sadness and pity "I hate that drum's discordant sound, The late Mrs. Sheridan has given to the sound" of the violin" a poetical feeling, which is as new as beautiful and affecting, where she speaks of her brother, bringing forth those tones that live beyond the touch!1 "Ah! who, like him, can teach the liquid notes So soft, so sweet, so eloquently clear, TO LIVE BEYOND THE TOUCH, and gently float In dying modulations on the ear?" I throw out these ideas, more as hints than critical examinations--" At some still time, when there may be no chiding," I may pursue the subject at large, and with reference to all arts; but it will be sufficient just to have touched on this subject here. But let us look a little farther abroad. Take any work of art, how little, abstractedly considered as a work of art, can you make it POETICAL, without adjuncts from Nature? Take useful or decorative architecture, statuary, pictures, carvings, music, bridges, aqueducts, canals, &c. Take an elegant mansion, or an old abbey :-It would be ridiculous to say which, as an object, is most poetical. Undoubtedly that which is rendered more interesting by various moral associations and picturesque beauty. Time, that leans on the reft battlements, brings with it a thousand associations of sublimity and melancholy. These are most poetically affecting! Even external adventitious circumstances of Nature make the picture more peculiarly and intensely interesting: "Scarce a sickly straggling flower Decks the rough castle's rifted tower.”—WARTON. "He, who would see Melrose aright, Must see it by the pale moonlight."-SCOTT. But, one of the finest pictures of modern poetry, where Nature makes the works of art so much more effectually poetical, is to be found in the Gladiator dying in the Coliseum, who remembers, as he dies," the scenes of his infancy, the hut of his mother, on the banks of the Danube." "I see before me the gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand his manly brow; Ere ceased the inhuman sound which hail'd the wretch who won. "He heard it, but he heeded not. His eyes All this rush'd with his blood. Shall he expire, And unaveng'd? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire !" In the "Faithful Shepherdess" of Beaumont and Fletcher are two similes, immediately succeeding each other, which I mention, because one is from a beautiful image in nature, the other from a common one of human art "Holy virgin, I will dance Round about these woods as quick |