66 " "thrush's song,' is a line in the Faerie Queene. By this single 66 verse of simple elegance the mind of a correspondent reader (that is, we suppose, a reader of simple elegance) is not weak. 66 ly affected: because the verse is easy, and flowing; and be cause, in the idea of the pure zephyr, (which is not mentioned) "and of the melodious thrill of the thrush softly falling, (which 66 Spenser has not described) it announces the salubrious region ❝of innocence and peace. I flatter myself that these remarks ra❝ther illustrate, and enforce the simple beauty of the line. They "are not very profoundly ingenious; as no poetical criticism "should be, they are as perspicuous as the line itself to which they 66 are applied, and yet they may not occur to the mind of a sensible "reader, who has not been professionally habituated to give a close "attention to literary, and poetical objects." (Vol. I. p. 39, 40.) Pythagoras could not have exulted more rapturously on the discovery of the 47th Proposition, or Mr. Ross declaimed with greater elegance and self-satisfaction on the merits of his transcendant perukes, than Mr. Stockdale on the enunciation of what he is pleased to denominate the preceding theory. But it is not in this respect alone that the paragraphs we have quoted are illustrative of Mr. Stockdale's peculiarities. The pliability with which he converts "taking the "air," into breathing the zephyr, and "the thrush's song," into a softly falling thrill, the simple naiveté with which he disclaims all pretensions to profundity, or ingenuity, at the very moment that he is boasting of those very qualities, and the sententious brevity with which he at once bids defiance to the authority of every former critic, and controverts the concurring opinions of his contemporaries; are all so peculiarly characteristic of Mr. Stockdale's manner, and spirit, that we know not any other critic with whose productions they would assimilate. Notwithstanding his lectures are professedly designed to elucidate the principles of poetical composition, he expresses on all occasions an ineffable contempt for the art of criticism. He is one of those favoured beings who are able to determine the merits of a poem by intuition, and to form a perfect estimate of its plot, its diction, and its imagery, without the small est assistance from the enquiries of others, or the slightest exercise of their own faculties. "Let a poet (says he) be enthu"siastic; if his critic is worthy of him, he will be enthusiastic Peace to these dry metaphysical critics; they 66 never yet gave any information to one disciple, they never "yet illustrated one fine author." << too. If this critical theory (as he calls it, for with him every assertion is a theory, and every exclamation a discovery,) be true, of what use are Mr. Stockdale's Lectures? There is no occasion for his critical instructions, for every reader is able to feel without them, and feeling, he assures us, is infallible. The utility of his writings can only depend on the value of the principles that they enforce, or elucidate; or to speak more precisely, on their resemblance to those very essays for which he has condemned the metaphysical authors to oblivion. The relative merit of true poets cannot be estimated but by comparison, and comparison implies the exercise of the metaphysical powers. It is true that a man may judge correctly of a poem without being conscious while he feels its beauties, or is disgusted with its faults, that he has exerted any faculty of the mind; but this want of consciousness, is the natural consequence of that facility of combining the ideas and that habitual familiarity with mental exertion which is derived from previous study of the princi ples of criticism. Were therefore the omnipotence of enthusiasm to be once admitted, it would be difficult to explain why one poet should have pre-eminence over another, or why a Grub-Street ballad should not elevate its author to as high a degree of immortality, as an epic poem. The war-song of an Indian chief excites an enthusiasm, which it would be vain to expect from the most animated recitation of the Odes of Pindar, the Elegies of Tyṛtæus. Kien Long's address to Tea is repeated by a Chinese peasant as a perfect example of poetical beauty. The Oxford Tragedy (to use the language of or some reason to be surprized that the portrait appears less faultless and brilliant when cleared of its varnish. So much for the truth, or the propriety of Mr. Stockdale's assertion, that the "Lives of the Poets" came out at a time very inauspicious to the fate of languishing literature; when manly knowledge and taste were not much cultivated amongst us. If it be true, the criticisms of Johnson are the more to be admired for their spirit, and independence: if it be false (as we believe it to be), its falsehood only shews, that he reasons badly, from uncertain data. We are next entertained with forty-five pages of declamation against the malignity of Johnson's censure, and the blindness of his taste. To support these charges, no other circumstance is adduced, than that his opinions are different. from those of Mr. Stockdale. After attempting, by a long train of assertion and misrepresentation, to defend the sixth book of Paradise Lost, against the charge of "metaphysi cal incongruity," he is at last obliged to assert, that "physi"cal and metaphysical accuracy are to be dispensed "with in poetry;" and immediately after confesses the folly of his admission, by exclaiming that," very good judges are of "the same opinion with himself." To answer observations absurd in themselves, and so inconsistent with each other, would only be to imitate Mr. Stockdale in his trifling and prolixity. That" Paradise Lost is one of the books which the reader admires, and lays down, and forgets to take up again," is a sentence of which the justice is too irresistibly and universally felt, to be censured as absurd, or reprobated as malicious, because a man like Mr. Stockdale chuses to deny it. The critic who ventures to call the readers of the Iliad stupid, indolent, and superficial, must surely forgive us if we value his admiration as little as his censure. The soul of Johnson was not, like that of some writers whom we could name, vehemently moved with fixed horror and transport of agitation; and we cannot therefore be surprized, that he sometimes had leisure to observe the defects of the authors whom he read, with more minuteness and discrimina“ tion than Mr. Stockdale; but that he either degraded, dis 66 paraged, or debased" the "glory," "the divine genius" of Milton, by asserting that his diction is sometimes peculiar and pedantic, and that rhyme is more distinctly melodious than blank-verse, we beg leave to doubt. Our author's affirmation, that Young and Thomson are poetical, notwithstanding they wrote in blank-verse; and that we may distinctly perceive, when the lines in blank-verse end or begin, is nothing to the purpose. The Doctor only asserted, that blankverse, as verse, was inferior to rhyme he did not assert, that no poet could animate the former, or that it might not be better suited to one particular bent of genius, than to another. He had expressed, as clearly as human language would enable him, his preference of blank-verse, as best adapted to the loftier flights of poetry; and we can scarcely believe that Mr. Stockdale would contend for any further extension of the licence. : All his feelings are alive at the mention of Lycidas. It is here that he again bursts forth in an agony of sorrow; bewails the piteous state of modern poesy, and declares, that nothing can be produced so sweet, so tender, so enchanting, as Lyci das! His fits of hysterical indignation are here so outrageous, that on a cursory perusal, we could not help remembering certain expressions in the preface, which we had at first mistaken for a confession of stupidity, but which, on our arrival at page 192, we suspected to indicate a much more deplorable affliction. On turning, however, to certain productions of Mr. Hayley, we discovered that neither Mr. Stockdale's rage nor rapture was perfectly original. As he displays, on all occasions, a mortal antipathy to metaphysics, we would entreat him to judge for once, at least, of a poetical production, by the rules of common sense. He will then be disposed to confess, that Lycidas displays more osten tation, than sorrow; that the mind, which can entertain itself with the language of pastoral, and the absurdities of classical mythology, is but little afflicted by the calamity that it so ingeniously deplores. In our own opinion, this celebrated poem possesses neither the tenderness of an elegy, nor the beauty of a pastoral. Lycidas is drowned, and of course, it might be expected that his friend should enlogize the virtues that endeared him to his remembrance, and lament the untimely fate by which he was torn from the pleasures of youth and the arms of friendship. But instead of expressing any feelings of natural emotion, or sensibility, he sits down and amuses himself with dreaming, like a school-boy in vacation-time, with the flocks of Admetus, and the shades of Mantua. Instead of thinking of his friend, he dilates, in verses not remarkable for their harmony, on the uncertainty of fame (not of life), and talks of Phoebus, Doric lays, sandals gray, the shepherd's trade, and a thousand other subjects, the bare mention of which is sufficient to banish all delicacy of thought, and to destroy all simplicity of language. He who believes that Johnson was incited by envy, or malignity, to attack the morals or the poetry of Milton, must likewise be prepared to account for his liberality of praise. Of his reflections on the political conduct of the poet, we shall say no more, than that we consider them as equally just and salutary. No man, who really loves the constitution of his country, or considers the advantage of a regulated government, can review the conduct of Milton with any other sentiments than regret and indignation. But in deciding upon the conduct and character of the author of Paradise Lost, it is not only necessary to enquire, whether every man has a right to perfect liberty of speech, or whether the opinions and principles that he supported, were rational and virtuous; but whether his support of them was the result of disinterested and dispassionate examination. It is not our present business to enquire whether the conduct of Milton was such |
