This indeed appears to have been the original office and destination of poetry; and this it still so happily performs, that in all other cases it seems out of character, as if intended for this purpose alone. In other instances poetry appears to want the assistance of art, but in this to shine forth with all its natural splendor, or rather to be animated by that inspiration, which, on other occasions, is spoken of without being felt. These observations are remarkably exemplified in the Hebrew poetry, than which the human mind can conceive nothing more elevated, more beautiful, or more elegant; in which the almost ineffable sublimity of the subject is fully equalled by the energy of the language and the dignity of the style. And it is worthy observation, that as some of these writings exceed in antiquity the fabulous ages of Greece, in sublimity they are superior to the most finished productions of that polished people. Thus, if the actual origin of poetry be inquired after, it must of necessity be referred to religion. Of this origin poetry even yet exhibits no obscure indications, since she ever embraces a divine and sacred subject with a kind of filial tenderness and affection. To the sacred haunts of religion she delights to resort as to her native soil: there she most willingly inhabits, and there she flourishes in all her pristine beauty and vigor. SUBLIMITY OF THE PROPHET ISAIAH. Whoever wishes to understand the full force and excellence of the figure of Personification, as well as the elegant use of it in the Hebrew ode, must apply to Isaiah, whom I do not scruple to pronounce the sublimest of poets. He will there find, in one short poem, examples of almost every form of the Prosopopæia, and indeed of all that constitutes the sublime in composition. I trust it will not be thought unseasonable to refer immediately to the passage itself, and to remark a few of the principal excellencies.1 The prophet, after predicting the liberation of the Jews from their severe captivity in Babylon, and their restoration to their own country, introduces them as reciting a kind of triumphal song upon the fall of the Babylonish monarch, replete with imagery, and with the most elegant and animated personifications. A sudden exclamation, expressive of their joy and admiration on the unexpected revolution in their affairs, and the destruction of their tyrants, forms the exordium of the poem. The earth itself triumphs with the inhabitants thereof; the fir-trees and the cedars of Lebanon (under which images the parabolic style frequently delineates the kings and princes of the Gentiles) exult with joy, and persecute with contemptuous reproaches the humbled power of a ferocious enemy :- 1 Isa. xiv. 4-27. The whole earth is at rest, is quiet; they burst forth into a joyful shout This is followed by a bold and animated personification of Hades, or the infernal regions. Hades excites his inhabitants, the ghosts of princes, and the departed spirits of kings: they rise immediately from their seats, and proceed to meet the monarch of Babylon; they insult and deride him, and comfort themselves with the view of his calamity: Art thou, even thou too, become weak as we? Art thou made like unto us? Is then thy pride brought down to the grave? the sound of thy sprightly instruments? Is the vermin become thy couch, and the earth-worm thy covering? Again, the Jewish people are the speakers, in an exclamation after the manner of a funeral lamentation, which indeed the whole form of this composition exactly imitates. The remarkable fall of this powerful monarch is thus beautifully illustrated : How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! Art cut down from earth, thou that didst subdue the nations! He himself is at length brought upon the stage, boasting in the most pompous terms of his own power, which furnishes the poet with an excellent opportunity of displaying the unparalleled misery of his downfall. Some persons are introduced, who find the dead carcass of the king of Babylon cast out and exposed : they attentively contemplate it, and at last scarcely know it to se his: Is this the man that made the earth to tremble; that shook the kingdoms? That made the world like a desert; that destroyed the cities? They reproach him with being denied the common rites of sepurture, on account of the cruelty and atrocity of his conduct; they execrate his name, his offspring, and their posterity. A solemn address, as of the Deity himself, closes the scene; and he denounces against the king of Babylon, his posterity, and even against the city which was the seat of their cruelty, perpetual destruction; and confirms the immutability of his own counsels by the solemnity of an oath. How forcible is this imagery, how diversified, how sublime! how elevated the diction, the figures, the sentiments! The Jewish nation, the cedars of Lebanon, the ghosts of departed kings, the Babylonish monarch, the travellers who find his corpse, and 1 This is, I think, the most sublime image I have ever seen conveyed in so few words. The aptness of the allegory to express the ruin of a powerful monarch by the fall of a bright star from hea ven, strikes the mind in the most forcible manner; and the poetical beauty of the passage is greatly heightened by the personification, "Son of the morning." Whoever does not relish such painting as this is not only destitute of poetical taste, but of the common feelings of humanity, last of all JEHOVAH himself, are the characters which support this beautiful lyric drama. One continued action is kept up, or rather a series of interesting actions are connected together in an incomparable whole. This, indeed, is the principal and distinguished excellence of the sublimer ode, and is displayed in its utmost perfection in this poem of Isaiah, which may be considered as one of the most ancient, and certainly the most finished specimen of that species of composition which has been transmitted to us. The personifications here are frequent, yet not confused; bold, yet not improbable: a free, elevated, and truly divine spirit pervades the whole; nor is there any thing wanting in this ode to defeat its claim to the character of perfect beauty and sublimity. If, indeed, I may be indulged in the free declaration of my own sentiments on this occasion, I do not know a single instance in the whole compass of Greek and Roman poetry, which, in every excellence of composition, can be said to equal, or even to approach it. THOMAS WARTON. 1728-1790. THOMAS WARTON, the learned author of the "History of English Poetry," was born at Basingstoke1 in 1728, of a family remarkable for its talent. His father, Rev. Thomas Warton, was professor of poetry at Oxford, and died in 1745: and his brother Joseph was the author of the "Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope." Thomas was educated at Cambridge, and early acquired distinction by the superiority of his poetical productions. In 1754 he published his "Observations on the Faerie Queene of Spenser," which at once established his reputation for true poetic taste, and for extensive and varied learning. In 1757 he was elected to the professorship of poetry in Pembroke College, the duties of which office he discharged with remarkable ability and success. In 1774 he published his first volume of "The History of English Poetry:" a second volume appeared in 1778, and a third in 1781. Into this very elaborate performance Warton poured the accumulated stores of a lifetime of reading and reflection: the survey he has given us of his subject is, accordingly, both eminently comprehensive in its scope, and rich and varied in its details: and as respects early English literature, it is a repository of information altogether unapproached in extent and abundance by any other single work of the same kind in the language. The work is, how ever, brought down to but very little beyond the commencement of the reign of Elizabeth, as he died while engaged in it, in May, 1790. It is deeply to be regretted that he had not carried the history of our literature through the reign of Elizabeth, as no one has presumed to continue the work; for to continue it with like success, would require the union of like powers-a combination rarely given to man.2 fn Southamocon county, about 45 miles W. S. W. of London. 2 "His consummate taste and discriminating judgment may on all occasions be implicitly trusted " Sr Egertor Brydges. THE HAMLET.-AN ODE. The hinds how blest, who ne'er beguiled To quit their hamlet's hawthorn wild, Nor haunt the crowd, nor tempt the main, For splendid care, and guilty gain! When morning's twilight-tinctured beam Strikes their low thatch with slanting gleam, They rove abroad in ether blue, To dip the scythe in fragrant dew; Midst gloomy glades, in warbles clear, In their lone haunts, and woodland rounds, For them the moon with cloudless ray The meadow's incense breathe at eve. That o'er a glimmering hearth they share: Duly, the darkening valleys o'er, Their little sons, who spread the bloom To loiter at the shady rill; Or climb the tall pine's gloomy crest, To rob the raven's ancient nest. Their humble porch with honey'd flowers The curling woodbine's shade embowers: Nor fell Disease, before his time, Hastes to consume life's golden prime: But when their temples long have wore As studious still calm peace to keep, THE CRUSADE.AN ODE. Bound for holy Palestine, Nimbly we brush'd the level brine, O'er the wave our weapons play'd, From Sion's turrets, as afar Ye ken the march of Europe's war! From Albion's isle revenge we bring! Though to the gale thy banners swell, England shall end thy glory soon! Thy brazen drums hoarse discord bray: On to victory we go, A vaunting infidel the foe!" Blondel led the tuneful band, And swept the lyre with glowing hand. And Crete, with piny verdure crown'd, Echoed the prophetic strain. Soon we kiss'd the sacred earth That gave a murder'd Saviour birth! Thus the solemn song renew'd: We tread the Tyrian valleys now. 1 Richa 1 I., surnamed, from his valor, Coeur de Lion. 2 The chief of the Mohammedans that defended Palestine against the Crusaders. 8 Pagai; it means here the professor of a false religion. 4 Anciently called Ptolemais; now St. Jean d'Acre. The faithful minstrel of King Richard. |