OBSERVATIONS On the Poetry of SOUTHEY and Walter Scott. [Extracted from the Christian Observer for June, 1810.] THE rules of poetical composition, as of the other elegant arts, were first taught by the Greek writers; and the models which their genius and industry supplied are so perfect, that both the ancient and modern world have, for the greater part, been content to acknowledge the authority, and copy the productions, of these masters. Yet it is observable that we are indebted for some most capital performances to a certain disregard of the dogmas of the old orthodox schools. Horace boasts that the style of his Satires was original; and he might have claimed the same character for many of his lyrical pieces. In later days, Dante and Ariosto among the Italians; Shakespeare, Milton, and Butler, among our own countrymen, unquestionably the greatest poetical geniuses of modern times, have shewn very little veneration for the classical authorities in the structure of their respective works. So that it is plain, however just be the principles delivered by the ancient sages, they are not so comprehensive as to include all the varieties of composition which genius may render seductive or commanding. What has happened to the poetical commonwealth in general, seems to have recurred in most of its provincial subdivisions. Each nation has produced some authors who have become the classicks of their country, and for the most part given the law to their successors. The sphere, indeed, of their influence was necessarily limited; for the principles of taste and truth in composition having long since been established, they could only revive in these things the lessons of older masters, and share, at the most, a portion of the power which they restored to them. But in the refinement of the national dialects, and in the construction of systems of versification suited to the genius of each language, original industry was to be exercised and standards fixed. In the more cultivated countries this has at different times been accomplished. Since the days of Petrarch and Dante, the Italians have written in the stanza which they employed. Malesherbes, Regnier, and Corneille taught their countrymen the use of the Alexandrian couplet, with rhymes in alternate gen ders; and French poetry has ever since worn this fashionable but fantastick dress. Klopstock has but lately introduced the heroick hexameter among the Germans, but his skill and genius have already recommended it to pretty general adoption. In our own language, Sidney tried the hexameter in vain. Spenser introduced the Italian stanza, but his followers have been few; though one of the most beautiful of our poems* is written in that measure. Cowley was as capricious in the length and structure of his lines, as in the other parts of his compositions. Milton, at last, gave to the blank iambicks a dignity and sweetness of which no other form of verse had been proved to be susceptible; and Dryden, Pope, and Tickell wrought the same measure in rhymed couplets to the most elaborate perfection. Since their days, our principal writers, partly from indolence, but principally from the splendid success and established reputation of these great masters, have submissively adopted the system of versification which they rendered popular; and scarce an instance has occurred, till the present age, of any attempt to discover new melodies in our language, or to attract attention by compositions of a different nature from those which the classicks, ancient and modern, had left for imitation. This age, however, has been an age of innovation in poetry, as in greater things; and two writers have, within the last fifteen years, given to the publick compositions wholly unlike every thing which had preceded them, and stamped with the impress of true genius. Our readers will readily imagine that we allude to Mr. Southey and Mr. Scott. Mr. Southey's Thalaba was perhaps the boldest experiment ever made in literature. He chose a tale of oriental origin, founded on the wildest legends of the Islam superstition. Sorcery and witchcraft had indeed long been known in verse; but no man before ever conceived the design of forming a grave poem of twelve cantos entirely from such materials. Yet so great are the powers of true genius, that, to a subject thus essentially and hopelessly fictitious, has been communicated a dignity, an interest, and even an air of reality, which may be looked for in vain among the most celebrated of the regular compositions. There is a moral sublimity in the *Thomson's Castle of Indolence. fable worthy of Milton, and unequalled but by him. The colouring is, in the loftier parts, bold and great; in the milder scenes, unrivalled for luxurance, softness, and harmony; uniting the taste of Claude with the wild picturesque magnificence of Salvator. The meter is even more original than the fable. The lines have no correspondence by rhyme, and are subjected to no law, except that two shall never be used in sequence that can be read in one. With this limitation, they vary in length, and in the adjustment of the cadences, as the taste or judgment of the poet prescribed. We do not say that the versification of Thalaba is never feeble; but we venture to affirm, that it possesses, on the whole, more varied melody than any blank verse in the language, except Milton's; and it is quite free from that formal air, which must always belong, more or less, to a system of rhymed couplets. We extract two passages in justification of this opinion: they are rather favourable specimens, but we think them almost unrivalled for metrical effect. "Far over the plain, Away went the brideless steed; With the dew of the morning his fetlocks were wet, The shadows of evening had spread." Lib. ii. 5. "And then upon the beach he laid him down, He did not pray; he was not calm for prayer; His spirit, troubled with tumultuous hope, Toiled with futurity; His brain, with busier workings, felt The roar and raving of the restless sea, The boundless waves that rose and roll'd and rock'd; The everlasting sound Oppress'd him, and the beaving infinite; He closed his eyes for rest.” Lib. ii. 259. This poem, though greatly admired by refined judges, has never acquired the full share of popularity it deserved. The faults of the work, which are in the same scale with its excellencies, partly account for this. Yet, on the whole, we ven ture to express a decided opinion, that, bold as was the experiment, Mr. Southey's success fully justified his temerity; -si voce Metelli Serventur leges mallent a Cæsare tolli. Thalaba had not been many years before the publick, when a poem appeared, quite as original, and almost equally eccen trick, but unlike its precursor in every other particular. The Lay of the Last Minstrel seized the general attention at once, and has ever since enjoyed a larger share of popularity than has been bestowed on any other composition in verse for near a century. It is curious to consider the causes which contributed to secure it so flattering a reception. We have no disposition to undervalue the powers of Mr. Scott's genius, but undoubtedly he owed much to the state of the poetical commonwealth at the time of his appearance. People had for some time become perfectly hopeless of the regular poets; scarcely a single versifyer of the old school (Cowper excepted) having appeared, for forty years, whose performances were above mediocrity. From this censure we do not entirely exclude even Gray, or Mason, though both are occasionally great. Gray's short effusions are painfully elaborate; and Mason's most studied pieces are still imperfect. Churchill and his followers deserve a sharper censure; and the rest are with difficulty remembered-The degraded state of the establishment naturally encouraged sectarianism. Darwin tried a new school in poetry, not unlike the Venetian academy among the painters. His colouring was in the highest degree brilliant, his language rich, and his cadences beautifully harmonious; but truth, nature, and simplicity were wanting; and the meteor his genius kindled, after playing awhile with bright and varied coruscations, disappeared at once. In another quarter arose a poetical fraternity, too much favoured by Mr. Southey in his earlier writings, who claimed to be the genuine pupils of nature, and, abhorring all factitious elegance, professed to recommend themselves, by a perfect simplicity ;-forgetting that simplicity is in itself but neutral; a sort of pure atmosphere, which only assists the effect of beautiful objects by exhibiting them very perfectly. Their simplicity, too, was artificial and affected. Yet, such was the craving of the publick for something original, that this whim sical race were for a time very popular; and might, perhaps, have continued to be so, if they had not been fairly whipped off the stage by our old friends and enemies, the Edinburgh Reviewers. Even the Della-Cruscans strutted their hour in triumph; and it is difficult to guess what new anticks might have been practised in poetry, had the theatre still remained open, and the publick appetite unsatisfied. At this fortunate conjuncture the Lay of the last Minstrel appeared. But Mr. Scott had been previously known as the editor of a very miscellaneous collection of old ballads, among which he inserted some minstrelsy of his own, much superiour to the best of them. There are passages in Glenfinlass equal to any thing which he has ever written; and the Eve of St. John is undoubtedly the finest tale of terrour in the language. the Lay aspired to praise of a much higher kind. The subject was chosen from among the legends of border chivalry ; and though little skill is shewn, or perhaps intended to be exercised, in the construction of the fable, several circumstances conspired to give it a peculiar interest. In the first place, it was antique; and possessed in that character the same sort of charm which belongs to a mouldering edifice, once the seat of grandeur or superstition ;- -a charm of which we are all sensible, though few are at the pains to analyze it. Then, the story is chivalrous; and chivalry gave birth to a state of manners unquestionably the most picturesque that ever has existed. We do not, however, agree that the border feuds are particularly susceptible of poetical embellishment :* on the contrary, we think that the savage marauders on the frontiers are as much inferiour in romance as in real life to the polished cavaliers of the court of Elizabeth,-the Sidneys, Essexes, and Raleighs of that brilliant era. Rudeness, surely, is never poetical, though an excellent poet may be sometimes rude. But the happiest circumstance in the construction of this poem, and that which, among the mechanical parts, contributed most to its success, certainly was the introduction of the Minstrel, by which the freedom of the old romance was easily and naturally united with the refinement of modern art. He who copied the Troubadours was sure to be entertaining; for their only business was to amuse, and few fail in that which it is their first interest to understand. When to this were united the delightful associations and cultivated diction · * See the introduction to the Lay of the Last Minstrel. |