melodies of Plato, the elegant simplicity of Xenophon. The same affections generate all the most excellent qualities of poetry. Hence the animation and grandeur of Tyrtæus, the ardour, the vehemence of Alcæus, the loftiness of Pindar, and the majesty of Stesichorus. As the love of money and of pleasure are the usual attendants on a declining empire, so are they the secret but inveterate enemies of genius: they take the citadel by a strata. gem, and they force every faculty into subjection. Then enters Slavery with her vile party of marauders, who plunder it of every thing which constitutes the pride of generosity, the triumph of independence. All the best energies of the mind are then compelled to be obedient: the powers of speech are then subdued into the service of the oppressor: genius, if it does not retire in disgust, wastes itself in meanness, or dreams away life in listlessness and sensuality. The poet is content to become a retailer of trifles and nicknacks; or, borne down by the tide of general corruption, a pander to tyrants, and the sycophant of slaves. To the loss of freedom, therefore, Longinus justly attributed the decay of genius, and the departure of all t at is great and sublime in writing, from the Grecians *. When the sun of freedom set, science and taste gradually disappeared, and were succeeded by a night of ignorance and dulness †. + What has been here said on the influence of governments is copied from an Essay in my former volumes, though with some alteration. Romelie, therefore, on modern Greece, in the poem alluded to in a former chapter, after comparing her present condition, degenerated in talents, and bereaved of all dignity, properly adds, "these are my evils and my regrets; their source is in my slavery." She could boast no more excellent poets. Rome, in regard to her poets, was similarly circumstanced. How different the writers under the emperors to those of the Augustan age! The former were flowers, blooming, and beautiful, and sweet: the latter were Bowers all shrivelled, that are just on the decline, with little fragrance. Eloquence and poetry shared the same fortune. They withered as liberty declined. The history of literature, too, furnishes many examples. illustrative of the point now under consideration. In the destruction of valuable libraries, like that of Alexandria, much that is excellent may have perished; and as some writings are to be traced only in collectors, such as Athenæus and Stobæus, so by the zeal of party much may have been destroyed. In ages of fanaticism and superstition, suppression as well as forgery was commonly prac tised: we have false diplomas, false bulls, and false gospels t; and instances might be given of magnificent editions of the Scriptures that have been suppressed ‡. Of some * Dum res populi Romani memorabantur pari eloquentiâ et libertate. Taciti Hist. + See Codex Apocryphus Novi Testamenti a Fabricio, and James's Corruptions of the Fathers. One patronized by the Polish Prince Radzivil, another edited by Servetus. excellent writers we know nothing but by the scraps, preserved, as in scorn, by their enemies. And may not all this have happened with respect to much that was truly excellent in poetry? Time itself, that great destroyer, has in this destruction of excellence united with Goths, and has, perhaps, sacrificed as much in his fury, as he has preserved from ruin. Some felt the silent stroke of mouldering age, Pope's Epistle to Addison. And here I cannot help just mentioning, though with reluctance, what has been said by some, that poets themselves have not been always so favourable to their own order, as could be wished: whether it is, that the temple of Fame is supposed to be of such limited dimensions as to admit but few within its walls; or that literature, when it becomes a commercial concern, is apt, like other commercial speculations, to excite competition, rivalry, jealousy, and by a sort of spongy softness to absorb the more generous passions. What Reitzius says of Aristotle's burning the writings of many philosophers, that what he borrowed from them might not be detected,—has been said by an ancient writer, I forget who,-of Homer. Such reports, however, for the honour of all that is great in hu Oratio de Plagio Literario, p. 16. man nature, it is to be hoped, are mere fabrications, and, with respect more particularly to Homer, may be thrown over to the mass of idle stories that have been propagated about the great bard. I am not willing to enter much upon this subject now, and therefore I shall only at present say, that such as choose to see how a spirit like this may operate, may find several examples to his mind in Reitzius. If in the above causes there exist reasons why much that is excellent may have been destroyed or suppressed, in the motives which influence mankind in writing there exist others, why much has not been produced. From muddy springs flow muddy waters; and if in their course they do not clear themselves by the beds over which they flow, or by mingling insensibly with purer waters, they, will continue muddy till they are buried in the sea. So must pure writings have a pure source, a wholesome direction, and, whatever meandering they make, must fertilize and enrich the land. The love of gain, the desire of gratifying a frivolous or vicious taste, the humiliation of administering to base passions, the little vanity which feeds on the smile of the day, and is satisfied with superficial compliments, these are not the motives which stir great passions,-which form great conceptions,-which authorize noble darings,-which give that confirmed persevering enthusiasm,-which conspire to form the poet, omnibus numeris absolutum. It is a desire to please, that he may instruct, and to instruct, that he may benefit mankind; to live in the good opinion of a future age, that he E 5 may improve and bless it. This is the true LOVE OF FAME, the nurse of all that is truly excellent; and one reason, the principal reason, why amidst all the poetical contentions in the world, there have existed so few excellent poets, is, that the spring and source do not arise in majesty and true greatness. I close this Essay with an excellent passage from Longinus's Treatise on the Sublime, as being much to our purpose. "If," says he, we submit to our consideration how Homer, were he present, or Demosthenes, would hear what we say, or how they would be affected, to constitute such a tribunal and theatre for our writings, and to be disciplined to give the grounds of our writings, before such heroes, judges, and witnesses, would excite a great contest after excellence. But the incitement is still greater, if you add, how will every age that comes after me, hear what I have written?" The reader may observe that I have passed over, or rather merely alluded to, one great mound of original genius, the servile imitation of others. This subject may, probably, be examined hereafter. I have made due allowance for particular circumstances, which ought to operate as modifications on general principles; and I would make a distinction betwixt governments settled and long established, as the Eastern, and governments on the decline, as those of Greece and Rome. And for similar reasons I deem it unnecessary to enter on the question, What think you of the age of Louis the Fourteenth ? |