[No. LXXIV.j THE TABLET. No. L XXIV. "It is the bufincfs of philosophers to guide and oj poets to delight mankind." THE followingfpeculation,with the remarks thai precede it, were put into the hands of the Editor for publication, and they are pre sented to the public as the feventy-fourtli num ber of the Tablet. " TO THE EDITOR, " Sir, " YOUR early attention to the Essay under thefignature " 11, which I lately cnclofed to you, induces a performance on " my part of the promil'e I then made. The following Sketch " on Poetry, is an effulion of the fame pen, and will, I no « doubt, afford an equal degree of pleasure to those of your rea >' ders who delight in PuiLosppHY, Poetry, the Beauties " of Composition, or liberal Criticism." M. SKETCH ON POETRY. IT has been observed, that it seldom falleth to the share of one man, to be both a philosopher and a poet. Tliefe two characters in their full extent, may be said to divide betwixt them the whole empire of genius ; for all the productions of the human mind, fall naturally under two heads, works of imagination, and -works of reason. There are indeed several kinds of composition, which, to be perfect, must partake of both. In our lnoft celebrated hillorians, for instance, we meet with ajult mixture of the penetration of the philosopher, and the ardor of the poet ; (till their departments are very wide of one another, and a finall degree of attention will be fufficient to lhew, why it is so extremely difficult to unite in any high degree, the excellence of each. The end of the poet is to give delight to his readers, which he attempts by addrelling their fancy, and moving their sensibility. The philosopher proposes merely to initruct, and therefore thinks it enough if he jjrefents his thoughts in that order, which will render them molt perspicuous, and seems bed adapted to gain the attention. Their views de mand therefore a very different procedure. All that pafles under the eye of the poet lie surveys iri one particular view : Every form and image under which he prelentsit to the fancy, are des criptive of its effects : lie delights to paint every object in motion, that he may raise afimilar agita tion in the bofomof his reader ; but the calm and deliberate thinker, on the contrary, makes it his chief endeavor to seek out the remoter causes and principles which give birth to tbefe appear ances. It is the highest exertion of the philosopher to Itrip off the falfe colors that serve to disguise—to remove every particular which fancy, or which folly have combined, and to prelent to view the simple and naked tr.utli. But the poet, who ad drefles the imagination and the heart, neglects no circumstance, however fanciful, which may serve to attach liisdefcriptions more closely to the humanmind. In describing the awful appearan ces of nature, he gladly avails liimfelf of all those inagic terrors, with which ignorance and super stition have furrorrnded them ; for though the light of reason dispels these shades, they anftoer the higher purposes ofthepoet in awakening the passions. Is is the delight ofpoetry to combine and aflociate; of philofophyto separate and diftiiigtiifh. The one releniblesa fkilful anatomilt, who lays open every thing that occnrs, and examines the finallell par ticular of its make. The other, a judicious painter, who conceals what would offend the eye, and enrbcllifhes «very subjeCt he undertakes to represent. The fameflbjeCt therefore which has engaged the investigating powers of the philoso pher, takes a very different appearance from the forming hand of the post, who adds every grace of coloring, and artfully hides the nakedness of its inwardftrulded with the molt lucid perspicuity. But woi ks of imaginatioji never ex ert a more powerful influence, than when the author has contrived to throw over them a /hade of datirnefs and doubt. The reason of Phis is obvious, the evils we but imperfectly discern seem to bid defiance to cautiou—they nffeit the mind with a fearful anxiety, and by presenting noljm jt, the imagination easily conceives them bound less. Thefe'fpecies o'fcompofition diffcritiHfur rlier "with respect to the Situation of mind requi site to produce thein.. Poetry is the offspring of a ciind, heated to an uncommon degree—it is a kind of spirit thrown off in the ferment of agita ted feelings. But the ivtmolt calmneis and com pofareis eliential to philofoplu'cal enquiry. No- SATURDAY, December 26, 1739. velty, surprise, and astonishment, kindle in the bofoin the fire of poetry, whilst philol'ophy is reared up by cool and continued efforts. There is one circumstance relating to this kind ofcoifi pofition too material to be omitted. Jnsvery na tion it has been found that poetry is ofinuch ear lier date than any other production of the hu man mind ; as in the individual, tjie imagination and pallions are more vigorous in youth, which in mature age subside, and give way to thought and reflection. Something limilar to this leenis to vary that genius which distinguishes the differ ent periods offociety. The jnoft admired poems have been the offspring of uncultivated ages. Pure poetry, conlifts in descriptions of nature, and the display of the pallions ; to each of which, a rude Hate of society is better adapted, than one more polished. They who live inthat early period, in which art has not alleviated the calamities of life, are forced to feel their dependence upon nature ; her appearances are ever open to their view, and therefore strongly imprinted on their fancy.— ! hdy fhrinkat the approach of a ftorni, and mark with anxious attention every variation of the sky. 1 lie change of feafbn, cloud and funihine, seren ity and teuipeft, are to theiu reallources of sorrow and of joy ; and we lueed not therefore wonder they Itiould describe with energy wlTat tliey feel with lb much force. But it is one chief advantage of civilization, that by enabling us in fbine mca fure to controul nature, we become left its influence. It opens many newfources of en joyment. In this situation the gay and cheerful can always mingle in company; whilst the diffn lion of knowledge opens to the studious a new world, over which the whirlwind and the blast can exert no influence. The face of nature gra dually reci.es ft otu vi;-w, and tliofe who attempt todelcriue ir, often content theiufelves with copy ing from books, whereby thc-ir descriptions want the frefhuefs and glow of original observation, like the image of au objedr refratfied through va rious mediums, each of which varies somewhat of its iorin, and lefl'ons its splendor. The poe try of uncivilized nations, has therefore often excelled the productions of a more refined people, in elevation and pathos. Accustomed to survey nature in her general form, and grander move ments, their descriptions cannot fail of carrying with them an air of greainefs and sublimity. They paint Icenes which everyone has felt, and which tlietefore need only to be presented, to awaken a iimiliar feeling again. For a while they delight us with the vaftnefs of their conceptions, but the wantof various embelliihinent, and the frequent recurrence of the fame images, soon fatigue the attention, and their poetry may be compared to the world of waters, which fills us with amaze ment, but upon which we gaze for a moment, and then turn away our eyes. It is the advantage at enlightened nations,that their fu peri or knowlege enables them to supply greater variety ; aud to renderpoetry more copious. They allure us with an agreeable succession of images. They do not weary with uniformity, nor overpower us with any oneexertion, but by perpetually fhifting the scenes, they keep us in a conlfant hurry of de light, " The poet's eye, in « kl¥: phrettzy rolling, " Dorh glance from heaven Co earth, from earth to heaven, " And as imagination bodies forth, *•' The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen '' Turns them to lhapes, and give.? to airy nothing " A local habitation, and ajiame." Shakespea reV Midfummcr Night's Dream. I cannot help observing that poeticalgenius feeijxs capable of a much greater variety than talents for phiiqfophizing. The power of thinking and rea soning is a simple energy, which exerts itfelf in all men nearly iu the fame manner. Indeed the chief varieties that have been observed in niay be traced to two, a capacity of al'jtrail and mathe watical rejifoniv.g—and ja talent for cpUcfting fails, and making obfervatiotLS. These qualities of mind blendid in various proportions, will for the most part account for any peculiarities attending men's modes of thinking. But the ingredients that conftiiute a poet are far more various .and compli cated. A poet is in a high degree under tjie in fhience.of the imagination and paffiong, principles of mind very various and extensive. Whatever is complicated is capable of much greater variety, and will be extremely more diverfified in its form, than that which is .mure simple. In this cafe every ingredient is a fouroe of variety, and by being mingled in the compolition, in a greater or less degree, may give original catt to the whole. To explain the particular causes which vary the direction of the fancy in different men, would perhaps be 110 e»fy taik. We are led, it maybe, at firft, through accident, to the survey of one class of objeifls—this calls up a particular train of thinking, which we afterwards freely indulge : [£ Ufb.llJh.tiS bn l\ t;biliry ol l'pirit which renders every circumllance intereftingare thequalities of both. BuiWilton isthe molt lubliine—Home p. the moll pjetnrel'que. il o,ME£ lived in an early age, before knowledge was much advanced, he could derive little from any acquired abilities, and may be therefore ftiled the poet oj naturt • to this fpurce perhaps we may trace the principal difference between Homer and Mii.tov. Thp Grecian poet was lefttothe natural movements of his own mind, and to the full influence ps [hat variety of paitions, which are common roall. His conceptions aretheiefoii: diffinguilhed by their fiinplicitv and force. In Milton who was Jlulled in almoli every de partment of science, learning seems fometiines to have iliaded the fplendnr of his genius. No epic poet excites emotion lb fervid as Homer, or poflefles so much fire ; but in point of fubliwty he can not be compared to Milton. I rather think the Greek popt has been thought to excell in this quality more than he really docs, for want of a proper conception of itseffeCls. When the perusal of an author raises lis above our ufuaJ tone of mind, we immediately ascribe these sen sations to the fublinjc, without considering whe ther they light on the imagination or the feel ings : Wheilier they elevate the fancy or only fire the paflions. The sublime has for its object the fancy only ; and its influence is not so much to occasion any fervor of feeling, as the calmness of fi*ed aflonifhment. If we consider the sublime as thus distinguished from every other quality Mt j-Ton will appear to poflefs it in an uncommon degree : And here indeed lies the feeret of his power. The perusal of Homer ijjfpires us with an ardent sensibility. Milton with the ftillnels of surprize. The one fills and delights the mind with the confluence of various emotions. The other amazes with the valbiefs of his ideas. The movements of Milton's mind are steady and progrelrive—he carries the fancy through vari ous fucceflive stages ,of elevation, and gradually encreafes the heat, by adding fuel to the fire. 1 he flights of Homer are more sudden and trans itory. Milton whose mind was enlightened by science aj)pears the molt compre'nenfive—he fliews more acutenefs in his reflections, and more subtlety of thought. Homer who lived iuor,e with men, and had perhaps a deeper tin&ure ot the human paflions, is by far the most vehement and piiftnrefque. To the view of Milton the wide scenes of the universe seem to have been thrown open, which he regards with a cool and comprehensive survey, little agitated, and supe rior to tliofe emotions which affedt inferior mor tals. Homer when he rises the highest goes not