work: the former may be investigated upon the principles of reafon and philofophy. Thefe two claffes of rules, however different, have often been confounded by critical writers, without any material injury to art, or any great inconvenience, either to the artift or to his difciple. For frequently it happens, that fashion and philofophy coincide; and that an artist gives the law in his profeffion, whofe principles are as just as his performance is excellent. Such has been the fate of POETRY in particular. Homer, whom we confider as the founder of this art, because we have none more ancient to refer to, appears, in the structure of his two poems, to have proceeded upon a view of things equally comprehenfive and rational: nor had Ariftotle, in laying down the philofophy of the art, any thing more to do, than to trace out the principles of his contrivance. What the great critic has left on this fubject, proves Homer to have been no lefs admirable as a philofopher than as a poet; poffeffed not only of unbounded imagination, and all the powers of language, but alfo of a most exact judgement, which could at once propose a noble end, and devife the very best means of attaining it. An art, thus founded on reafon, could not fail to be durable. The propriety of the Homeric mode of invention has been acknowledged by the learned in all ages; every real improvement which particular branch es es of the art may have received fince his time, has been conducted upon his principles; and poets, who never heard of his name, have, merely by their own good fenfe, been prompted to tread the path, which he, guided by the fame internal monitor, had trod before them. And hence, notwithstanding its apparent licentioufnefs, true Poetry is a thing perfectly rational and regular; and nothing can be more strictly philosophical, than that part of criticifm may and ought to be, which unfolds the general characters that distinguish it from other kinds of compofition. Whether the following difcourfe will in any degree juftify this laft remark, is fubmitted to the reader. It afpires to little other praise, than that of plain language and familiar illustration; difclaiming all paradoxical opinions and refined theories, which are indeed fhowy in the appearance, and not of difficult invention, but have no tendency to diffuse knowledge, or enlighten the human mind; and which, in matters of taste that have been canvaffed by mankind these two thousand years, would feem to be peculiarly incongruous. The train of thought that led me into this inquiry was fuggefted by a converfation many years ago, in which I had taken the freedom to offer an opinion different from what was maintained by the company, but warranted, as I then thought, and still think, by by the greatest authorities and the best rea fons. It was pleaded against me, that taste is capricious, and criticifm variable; and that the rules of Ariftotle's Poetics, being founded in the practice of Sophocles and Homer, ought not to be applied to the poems of other ages and nations. I admitted the plea, as far as these rules are local and temporary; but afferted, that many of them, being founded in nature, were indifpenfable, and could not be violated without fuch impropriety, as, though overlooked by fome, would always be offenfive to the greater part of readers, and obftruct the general end of poetical compofition: and that it would be no lefs abfurd, for a poet to violate the effential rules of his art, and justify himfelf by an appeal from the tribunal of Ariftotle, than for a mechanic to construct an engine on principles inconfiftent with the laws of motion, and excufe himself by dif claiming the authority of Sir Ifaac Newton. The characters that distinguish poetry from other works of literature, belong either to the SUBJECT, or to the LANGUAGE: fo that this discourse naturally refolves itself into two parts. — What we have to fay on Mufic will be found to belong to the first. PART PART I. POETRY CONSIDERED WITH RESPECT то ITS MATTER W HEN we affirm, that every art or contrivance which has a meaning must have an end, we only repeat an identical propofition: and when we fay, that the effential or indifpenfable rules of an art are those that direct to the accomplishment of the end propofed by the artist, we repeat a definition whereof it would be сарtious to controvert the propriety. And therefore, before we can determine any thing in regard to the effential rules of this art, we muft form an idea of its END or DESTINATION, CHAP CHAPTER I. Of the end of Poetical Compofition. T HAT one end of Poetry, in its first institution, and in every period of its progress, must have been, TO GIVE PLEASURE, will hardly admit of any doubt. If men first employed it to exprefs their adoration of fuperior and invisible beings, their gratitude to the benefactors of mankind, their admiration of moral, intellectual, or corporeal excellence, or, in general, their love of what was agreeable in their own fpecies, or in other parts of Nature; of Nature; they must be suppofed to have endeavoured to make their poetry pleafing; because, otherwise, it would have been unfuitable to the occafion that gave it birth, and to the fentiments it was intended to enliven. Or if, with Horace, we were to believe, that it was firft ufed as a vehicle to convey into favage minds the principles of government and civility *; ftill we *The honour of civilizing mankind, is by the poets. afcribed to poetry, (Hor. Ar. Poet. verf. 391.); - by the orator, to oratory, (Cicero, de Orat. lib. 1. § 33.); and by others to philofophy, (Cicero, de Orat. lib. I. §36 2 |