which, though in some respects inferior to what are called the higher species of poetry, yields to none in force, ardour, and sometimes even in dignity and solemnity. Every species of poetry has in fact its peculiar mode of acting on the human feelings; the general effect is perhaps the same. The epic accomplishes its design with more leisure, with more consideration and care, and therefore probably with greater certainty. It more gradually insinuates itself-it penetrates, it moves, it delights; now rising to a high degree of sublimity, now subsiding to its accustomed smoothness; and, conducting the reader through a varied and delightful scene, it applies a gentle constraint to the mind, making its impression by the forcible nature of this application, but more especially by its continuance. The ode, on the contrary, strikes with an instantaneous effect, amazes, and as it were storms the affections. The one may be compared to a flame, which, fanned by the winds, gradually spreads itself on all sides, and at last involves every object in the conflagration; the other to a flash of lightning, which instantaneously bursts forth, "With instant ruin threats great nature's frame, 1 The amazing power of Lyric poetry, in directing the passions, in forming the manners, in maintaining civil life, and particularly in exciting and cherishing that generous elevation of sentiment on which the very existence of public virtue seems to depend, will be sufficiently apparent by only contemplating those monuments of genius which Greece has bequeathed to posterity. If we examine the poems of Pindar, (which though by no means accounted the most excellent of their kind, by some strange fatality are almost the only specimens that remain), how exquisite must have been the pleasure, how vivid the sensation to the Greek, whose ordinary amusement it was to sing, or hear them sung! For, this kind of entertainment was not confined to persons of taste and learning, but had grown into general use. When he heard his gods, his heroes, his ancestors received into the number of the gods, celebrated in a manner so glorious, so divine, would not his bosom glow with the desire of fame, with the most fervid emulation of virtue, with a patriotism, immoderate perhaps, but honourable and useful in the highest degree? Is it wonderful, that he should be so elevated with this greatness of mind, (shall I call it?) or ra ther insolence and pride, as to esteem every other people mean, barbarous, and contemptible, in comparison with himself and his own countrymen? It is almost unnecessary to remind this assembly, that in the sacred games (which afforded so much support to the warlike virtue of Greece *) no inconsiderable share of dignity and esteem resulted from the verses of the poets; nor did the Olympic crown exhibit a more ample reward to the candidate for victory, than the encomium of Pindar or Stesichorus. I wish, indeed, that time had not invidiously deprived us of the works of the latter, whose majesty and excellence commanded universal applause, whom Dionysius+ preferred before every other lyric poet, because he made choice of the sublimest and most splendid subjects, and in the amplification of them preserved most completely the manners and the dignity of his characters. To Alcæus, however, the same author attributes the most excellent manner of treating political subjects.‡ As a man, indeed, how great! as a citizen, how strenuous! What a spirited defender of the laws and constitution of his country! what a vigorous opposer of tyrants! who consecrated equally his sword and his lyre on the altar of freedom! whose prophetic muse, ranging through every region, acted as the sacred guardian, not for the present moment only, but for future ages; not of his own city alone, but of the whole commonwealth of Greece. Poetry such as this, so vehement, so animated, is certainly to be esteemed highly efficacious, as well in exciting the human mind to virtue, as in purifying it from every mean and vicious propensity; but still more especially does it conduce to cherish and support that vigour of soul, that generous temper and spirit, which is both the offspring and guardian of liberty. Could an apprehension arise that another Pisistratus would meditate the enslaving of that city, where at every banquet, nay, in the streets and in the meanest assemblies of the common people, that convivial ode was daily sung which bears the name of Callistratus? an author known to us only by this composition, which, however, sufficiently demonstrates him to have been an admirable poet and an excellent citizen: § * Consult the Dissertation of the learned Gilbert West on the Olympic Games, sect. xvii. Dion. Halicar. T. ii. p. 123. Edit. Hudson. + Ibid. This Skolion (or convivial song) some have attributed to Alcæus; but not conformably with strict chronology, for Alcæus Verdant myrtle's branchy pride Noblest youths! in islands blest, And with godlike Diomed. Myrtle shall our brows entwine, While the Muse your fame shall tell; 'Twas at Pallas' sacred shrine, At your feet the tyrant fell. Then in Athens all was peace, flourished about eighty years before the death of Hipparchus. But Hesychius Nor at my table sing Harmodius' praise: "He shall never sing Harmodius with me;" that is, he shall never be my "The sprightly dance, Harmodius! thy delight." There is an allusion to the same, Auris. 633. "My sword I'll bear hid in a myrtle branch; And like Aristogiton walk in arms. x. λ. It is evident from this ballad, that the conspirators, when they assaulted Hipparchus, concealed their daggers in those myrtle garlands, which, if I mistake not, were carried by all who assisted at the sacred rites of the Panathenaic sacrifice and this is indeed confirmed by the Scholiast upon Aristophanes, in the passage before referred to: "For these men, Harmodius and Aristogiton, hastily drawing their swords out of the myrtle boughs, fell furiously upon the tyrant." Hence, perhaps, arose the custom, that whoever sung any convivial song in company, always held a branch of myrtle in his hand. See Plutarch, i. Symp. Quest. 1.-Author's Note. Our Collins, in particular, has attributed this poem to Alcæus, in the following beautiful lines: "What new Alcæus, fancy blest, Shall sing the sword in myrtles drest, At Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing, Till she her brightest lightnings round revealing, It leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted wound." Ode to Liberty. Nurse of Arts and eye of Greece, People valiant, firm, and free !* If, after the memorable Ides of March, any one of the tyrannicides had delivered to the populace such a poem as this, had introduced it to the suburra, to the assemblies of the forum, or had put it into the mouths of the common people, the dominion of the Cæsars and its adherents would have been totally extinguished: and I am firmly persuaded, that one stanza of this simple ballad of Harmodius would have been more effectual than all the Philippics of Cicero. There are some other species of poetry, which with us generally appear in an easy and familiar style, but formerly assumed sometimes a graver and more important character. Such is the Elegy: I do not speak of the light and amorous elegy of the moderns, but that ancient, serious, sacred, and didactic elegy, the preceptress of morals, the lawgiver of nations, the oracle of virtue. Not to enter into a detail of authors, of whose works we are not in possession, and of whose merits we consequently can form no adequate judgment, it will be sufficient to instance Solon, the most venerable character of antiquity, the wisest of legislators, and withal a poet of no mean reputation. When any thing difficult or perplexing occurred in the administration of public affairs, we are informed that he had recourse to poetry. Were the laws to be maintained or enforced upon any particular emergency; was the indolence or licentiousness of the citizens to be reproved; were their minds to be stimulated to the love of liberty-he immediately attacked them with some poetical production, bold, animated, and The above imitation, all but the third stanza, is taken from a paraphrase of this poem, said to be the production of Sir W. Jones. The following is a more literal translation, by Mr Cumberland: "He is not dead, our best belov'd, Harmodius is not lost, But with Troy's conquerors remov'd Perpetual objects of our love The patriot pair shall be, Who in Minerva's sacred grove Struck, and set Athens free." Observer, No. 49.-T. † See Plutarch and Diog. Laert. Life of Solon. severe; in the highest tone of censorial gravity, and yet in no respect deficient in elegance: "Before the awful peal the lightning flies, And gathering clouds impending storms presage ; The people's madness whets the tyrant's rage." It is a well-known fact, that Athens was altogether indebted for the recovery of Salamis to the verses of Solon, even contrary to their own inclination and intention. After they had, from repeated overthrows, fallen into the deepest despair, insomuch that it was made a capital offence even to propose the renewal of the war or the reclaiming of the island, such was the influence of that single poem, which begins—“Let us march to Salamis," that, as if pronounced by a prophet instinct with divine enthusiasm, the people, propelled by a kind of celestial inspiration, flew immediately to arms, became clamorous for war, and sought the field of battle with such incredible ardour, that by the violence of their onset, after a great slaughter of the enemy, they achieved a most decisive victory. We have also some remains of the celebrated Tyrtæus, who "manly souls to martial deeds By verse excited." The whole scope and subject of his compositions is the celebration of valour and patriotism, and the immortal glory of those who bravely fell in battle :-compositions which could impart some degree of courage even to the timid and unmanly; by which, indeed, he elevated the minds of the Lacedemonians, which had been long debilitated and depressed, to the certain hope of victory. The fact is well known, and had it not been corroborated by the testimony of so many authors, it would doubtless have been thought by some incredible; though I confess it appears to me no less supported by the reason of things than by the authority of the historian. It is impossible that men should act otherwise than with the most heroic ardour, the most undaunted resolution, who sung to the martial pipe, when arranged in military order, marching to the onset, or perhaps actually engaged, such strains as these: Our country's voice invites the brave |
