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dulged in extracts even from those works which he attacked. It may be objected, that there are many imitations, or coincidences, in Milton's poetical productions. In the “Paradise Lost," he has drawn largely from the Greek and Roman poets. There is, however, this distinction between the imitations of Milton and of Pope; those of the latter form the staple commodity, the subject matter, the substrata of his imagery and language,-those of Milton are only illustrative. Poetry is a passion: the mind, in a state of excitement, crowds into one centre every idea and image, every sentiment and feeling, whether native or educational, that may be in any way connected with the subject, or introduced into the expression. The poetry of Pope has none of this energy of passion; he sate down coolly to his task, and made a selection from the thoughts and language of those who had preceded him, uniting them after another manner into a sort of Mosaic combination: he derived all from the standard of art, but added nothing. Personal identity is necessary to constitute character,-ideal identity is requisite to the existence of original genius. Not only was the matter of Pope borrowed, his style and manner were not his own. His versification was derived from Dryden, but was inferior to his master's,it wanted that variety and numerous harmony in which the latter so happily excelled.

A member of this Institution, in one of his publications, has described the various gradations of the poetic character. "The highest species of poetry," he says, "is that which excites the most exalted and sublime emotions and ideas, and these are produced by the vivid and glowing description of objects of grandeur, associated with deep moral feeling, and profound intellectual reflection. It may, in other words, be said to be the union of descriptive with moral and intellectual poetry its subjects are nature, in all its varied beauty and sublimity; human action, in its most heroic achievements; human character, in its most exalted and diversified exhibitions; passion, or enthusiasm, in its utmost energy; sentiment, in its most ennobling characters; thought, in its powerful and infinite range. All these, presented in language figurative, dignified, and harmonious."

The species of Poetry are three; Descriptive,-Moral,Intellectual, and "the highest intellect, enthroned in the highest imagination," is stated, by the author just quoted, as constituting the highest kind and degree of poetic excellence. The poetry of Milton, of Shakspeare, and the sacred Scriptures, severally combine the three orders with this, the highest degree of poetic excellence. The poetry of Pope lays claim to much SKILL in VERBAL ARRANGEMENT; FIGURATIVE

LANGUAGE, but not highly so; a DICTION ARTIFICIAL in the extreme; SMOOTHNESS OF VERSIFICATION; and some BEAUTIFUL IMAGERY, both ideal and illustrative. He was rather a fine than a sublime genius.

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His 66 Pastorals" are mere imitations; their merit can only consist in their verbal arrangement and inoffensive metre. Nor deserves his "Messiah" a higher praise: considered by itself, without reference to its origin, it is undoubtedly one of the finest productions ever dashed from genius' fiery pen"; but its sublimity was not his,-it belonged to a writer whose works are unequalled, not only among the most exalted uninspired exertions of human genius, but the loftiest creations of the inspired penmen of Israel

Isaiah, the first of poets and of prophets!" The Dying Christian to his Soul," adopted from the Emperor Adrian's Address; his "Satires," imitated from Horace, and adapted from Dr. Donne; his "Essay on Man," from Bolingbroke; are similarly circumstanced. "Windsor Forest" combines the descriptive with the moral, but approaches not to the intellectual, which is the highest species of poetry. The "Ode" demands a great exertion of the intellectual faculty, and is perhaps the most difficult in its construction and composition of all the modes of poetry. Pope attempted it, and failed;—added to which, "St. Cecilia's Day" is but a contemptible plagiarism from "Alexander's Feast," in every thing but its language and illustrations. His "Essay on Criticism" is traceable to Horace and Boileau; and, whatever rank it may claim, is very far from the intellectual and the imaginative. "Eloisa to Abelard" is addressed to the feelings; a moral poem, as it regards its pathos, but not as it regards the sentiments it would excite, and the affections which it kindles. The "Dunciad," and "the Rape of the Lock,' are certainly his greatest works; but the merit of burlesque and heroi-comic poetry is very equivocal. In reality, there is nothing laudable in the design or concoction of such pieces, whose only purpose is to degrade some of the most exquisite passages of human,-aye, and sometimes of divine-composition, by connecting them with all that is little in action, and ridiculous in character.

In confirmation of the opinion which ought to be formed of a genius principally turned towards the burlesque, and eminently fitted for it, we may refer to the authority of one of the sublimest metaphysicians of the age, who, in his history of his own literary life and opinions, observes, that-" The office and duty of the poet is to select the most dignified, as well as

The happiest, gayest, attitude of things.'

The reverse, for in all cases a reverse is possible, is the appropriate business of burlesque and travesty, a predominant taste for which has been always deemed a mark of a low and degraded mind.”-Coleridge, vol. ii. p. 127.

It might be sufficient, for the purposes of the present question, to prove that there were poets of a higher order than that in which Mr. Pope excelled. It might be unfair to mention the name of Shakspeare, in comparison with that of Pope, the Myriad-minded Bard, the Swan of Avon, with the Wasp of Twickenham,-seeing that the latter never attempted dramatic composition. He may, however, be contrasted with Milton. It is unnecessary to pronounce an eulogium on that greatest of poets; his merits are acknowledged. Compare Pope's finest work, his "Elegy to the Memory of an unfortunate Young Lady," with Milton's Verses on the Death of a fair Infant, which died of a cough." The subject of Pope was calculated to kindle every feeling, and awaken every sympathy of the human heart; Milton's was barren and uninteresting: and, in deciding on their relative merits, Pope has every advantage from the nature of his subject. Pope felt this; and accordingly contented himself with giving the mere matter of fact, the circumstantial detail; and suggesting an old truism, by way of moral, that

"Poets themselves inust fall, like those they sung."

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A sentiment very prettily expressed; but, for all that, not very original. How differently did Milton proceed in the poem before us: to the simple fact, simple as simplicity itself, he added an exquisite display of intellectual power; it is sealed with the ideality of his own mind; his own ideal identity; his signet is upon it; and his imagination has stamped it with its own form. Raised to that state of passionate excitement, in which poetry lives and breathes, all his classical recollections throng upon him to illustrate and embellish the theme about which he is engaged. The intellectual and the imaginative faculties co-operate; and even in this, one of the least exertions of his wonderful genius, do we behold made manifest and palpable the mysterious enthronement of the highest intellect in the loftiest imagination. The intellectual power

Bends from his awful throne a wondering ear,

And smiles."

The ADVOCATES for the POETICAL SUPREMACY of POPE maintained, that the opinion of foreigners, in favour of the poetic

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genius of the country, was founded principally on the poetry of Pope. That opinion was characteristic of a poet whose merits exceeded those of a mere imitator or translator. They could not agree with the construction put upon the question by the opener It did not inquire whether there ever was a greater poet than Pope; for, it must be admitted, that he was inferior to Homer, to Milton, and Shakspeare; but, whether he was one of those poets to whom we should refer to establish the poetical fame of the country. Who was there who would refuse to place him in that illustrious list? They could not concede to many of the opinions which had been uttered with respect to the various works of Pope. If we seek for "the thoughts that breathe, and the words that burn," read that excellent poem of "Eloisa to Abelard." There the highest display of passion is united with the most musical arrangement of harmonious versification. The ode on "St. Cecilia's Day" must be allowed to be inferior to the other works of Pope; still it is not altogether a failure, and is far from being defective in harmony. The following passage is peculiarly harmonious :

"But when our country's cause provokes to arms,
How martial music every bosom warms!

So when the first bold vessel dared the seas,
High on the stern the Thracian rais'd his strain,
While Argo saw her kindred trees

Descend from Pelion to the main.
Transported demigods stood round,
And men grew heroes at the sound,
Inflam'd with glory's charms:
Each chief his sevenfold shield display'd,
And half unsheath'd the shining blade;
And seas, and rocks, and skies rebound
To arms! to arms! to arms!"

With respect to the opinion quoted from Mr. Coleridge, they had always heard that metaphysicians were the worst poets, and did not think that the Institution should decide the question on their authority. If poetry was the exertion of the highest intellect enthroned in the highest imagination," then certainly they conceived that the "Essay on Man" was perfectly within the terms of the definition; it was full of beautiful sentiments, and fine passages, which were continually recurring to the memory: indeed, there were more passages in the recollection of the public from the productions of Pope than from any other poet who had ever written. The ma

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jority, at any rate, were in his favour. They thought that the "Pastorals" had been unjustly classed; they were the productions of a very early age, and were looked on by the learned of the time as an earnest of his future greatness. The heroi-comic poetry of Pope was not amenable to the censure passed upon it by his impugner. The "Rape of the Lock" does not degrade the great and beautiful thoughts of exalted genius, but merely excites the mirth of the reader, by giving to that which was mean an air of importance. The sylphs in that poem were certainly the creatures of Pope's imagination: here, at any rate, he might lay claim to originality.

To the genius of Milton all homage is due; nevertheless, they could not avoid thinking, that there was something like pedantry in the poem alluded to, something like burying the warmth of the subject under the coldness of allegory,—a fault not attributable to the writings of Pope.

Lastly, in his translation of Homer's Iliad, there was a convincing and overpowering proof of the sublime talents of Mr. Pope. The difficulties of an attempt to render such an author as Homer, with the poetic fire and elegance displayed by Mr. Pope, must be evident from the number of unsuccessful attempts. The failure of Cowper was most egregious. Pope had succeeded where so many had failed, and had achieved a title to be ranked among poets of the first order. In their opinion, he had realized the description of a poet which had been given by Shakspeare

"The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth

The form of things unknown, the poet's pen

Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."

UPON THE OTHER HAND, it was replied, that had Pope realized this description, we should then have been spared the invidious task of opposing his title to an order which it is probable he never claimed for himself; and England might now have boasted another among the great poets, who have made her name harmonious and famous among the nations. -To characterize him as the man on whose talents the poetical fame of the country must depend, is such an outrage upon reason and taste, as almost sufficient to kindle our indignation and to urge us to pronounce that he was no poet at all! Considered as the one upon whom the poetical fame of our country rests, he is not entitled to the denomination. Have there been no Shakspeares,-no Miltons? Is Pope the poet

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