University of Virginia Library

See Beattie's Minstrel.....a work of the justest sentiment, of the finest painting, and which gives to the world a picture in Edwin that can never be too much admired.

I have thought no writer would answer better to confirm the doctrine which has been advanced than Milton....The voice of criticism has pronounced him the most learned among the poets....His vast information, while it did not restrain, regulated his flight. Such was his ambition to excel, such was his love of learning, that from his twelfth year he commonly continued his studies until midnight. When he arrived at his seventeenth year he was a good classical scholar, was master of several languages and had produced several of his approved poems. In the year 1638, he set out upon his travels, he visited France, and most parts of Italy, and after having been abroad one year and three months, after having been caressed by the princes and literary characters of France and Italy; after having conversed with the most famous men of the age, with Grotius at Paris, with Gallileo in the prison of the Inquisition, he returned home to call into action his cultivated and emulating powers....It is said that his first desire of writing an epic poem, was excited by a conversation which he had with the Marquis of Villa concerning Tasso, and that he first thought of selecting king Arthur as his Hero.

To Dr. Johnson Literature is probably more generally indebted than to any other author which England has produced. His was one of those stupendous minds which is the proper subject of wonder. His weaknesses which were shades to his brightness, serve to shew us that the utmost strength of intellect is unable to overcome the failings of mortality. His violent prejudices, and some evident partialities and errors in his criticisms are the most formidable objections against him; but even these in him “seem as the spots of heaven more fiery by night's blackness.” His style is the most nervous and dignified in the English language, and could a few words and expressions be excluded from it, it would be the most correct. His Dictionary undertaken and executed alone, under the pressure of disease, and under mental afflictions, is a prodigious work, and one to which our language is everlastingly indebted. His Rambler, excepting one or two papers, the production of his single pen, contains a system of ethics most pleasingly delivered. His Lives of the Poets are more edifying and delightful, than the lives of all the military heroes ever written: You are there conducted to the closet of Genius, where you may inspect her minutest actions: she is there represented to your view, active amidst the busy scenes, and reclined in indulgence beneath the shade of solitude. Plutarch in Biography must yield to Johnson. His Rassellas displays powers of invention: It is too gloomy generally to please, but its lessons should be imprinted upon every heart. His London, and Vanity of Human Wishes are fine satires; and his Irene, if not calculated for the stage will please in the closet. His Prefaces, to his Dictionary and to Shakspeare exceed all performances of the kind in the English language. Biography has been copious in the praise of this great man, but it can never do him more than justice. His life, and essays on his genius and works, have been written by Boswell, Anderson, and Murphy: The last of these authors has given the best critical view of his writings.

Sir William Jones was a prodigy of genius, and of erudition. He was a favourite of what is commonly called Fortune, and was distinguished for his personal elegance and attractiveness of manners. He wrote, and spoke fluently many languages, and merely considered as a Linguist, his attainments were astonishing. He had already become eminent as a lawyer when he accepted his honourable appointment in the East, from which he derived a yearly income of forty or fifty thousand pounds sterling. His Asiatic researches have enlightened the world, and furnished additional evidences to the Christian religion. His dissertations on the poetry of the East and on the arts called immitative, discover nice and accurate critical discernment. His translation of the speeches of Isæus, throws light upon the practice of the ancient law. As a poet his merit is unquestionably great. His diction is nervous and his imagery splendid. His versification has the sweetness and correctness of Pope. His “Solima” “Palace of Fortune,” “Seven Fountains,” Arcadia and Laura are enchanting performances.

“The Moallakat,” or the seven Arabian poems of Muriolkais, of Tarafa, of Zohair, of Libeid, of Antara, of Amru, of Hareth, preserved by Sir William Jones, were suspended on the temple at Mecca, with a translation and arguments.

Though nothing can be farther from the truth than the assertion of Shaftesbury, that ridicule is the test of Truth; though Virtue needs no such advocate as Ridicule to plead her cause; yet there are many vices and follies which are the proper subjects of its severity and scourging: There are productions of false, perverted taste which more deserve the lash, than the attention of serious and dignified criticism. It is a mistaken opinion too much indulged, that the excellency of satire consists rather in its severity and exaggeration than in its truth. Satire like the knife of the surgeon, in most cases should cut, not to destroy but to save.

The Eclogues of Virgil have been the models of the most finished pastorals, that have since been written. Pope's pastorals have little more to recommend them than their smoothness of versification. The writer who approaches nearest to the great master of this species of poetry, is Gessner. His Idyls observe a style peculiar to themselves. He is happy in his selection of simple and affecting incidents; of such as have great force upon the heart. Dr. Johnson in his criticism upon Virgil's Eclogues, after noticing the beauties and defects of each one, gives the preference to the first. In this decision he has been generally followed.

This singular character was born at Arezzo, in the beginning of the fourteenth century, when Europe began to shake off the long slumbers of Gothic night, and to hail the morning of Literature. Early in life he received the patronage of the noble family of Colonna, under whose shelter he was enabled to prosecute his studies, and to obtain stores of information unequalled in that day. His romantic attachment for Laura, who was the wife of the young Hughes de Sades, is well known. He first saw this lady, at the time of matins, in the monastery of St. Claire. He was instantly struck with her face, her air, her person, her dark and tender eyes, “her ringlets interwoven with the hands of love,” her gentle and modest carriage, and the melting sound of her voice. Unhappy in his passion, and unable to banish it from him, he mourned over it in his sonnets with the most inimitable tenderness, and sought for its alleviation in the solitary shades of Vaucluse; but all his efforts to forget the object of his affection were in vain. Though he concealed himself in solitude from the observation of men; yet the image of Laura followed him there. During his abode in this retreat, and while engaged in writing an epic poem, in honour of Scipio, which he called Africa, he received a letter from the Roman senate urging him, with many intreaties, to come to Rome, and receive the crown of laurel. On the same day in which this letter came to his hands, a courier arrived, bearing a similar invitation from the chancellor of the university at Paris: Petrarch decided in favour of Rome; and in the year 1341, amid the joy and shouts of a vast assembly, was crowned, with pomp and solemnity, at that capital.....Amid these intoxicating honours, “I blushed,” says he “at the applauses of the people, and the unmerited commendations with which I was overwhelmed.” Soon after, writing to a friend, he says, “These laurels which encircled my head were too green; had I been of riper age and understanding I would not have sought them. Old men love only what is useful; young men run after appearances, without regarding their end! This crown rendered me neither more wise nor more eloquent; it only served to raise envy, and to deprive me of the repose I enjoyed. From that time tongues and pens were sharpened against me; my friends became my enemies, and I suffered the just effects of my confidence and presumption.”....Such is the unsatisfying nature of all human honours, and all human enjoyments! Seven years after this coronation, Laura died of the plague which ravaged all Italy. Petrarch has celebrated her virtues and accomplishments, in an exquisite elegy, which bears her name, and which has been admirably translated by Sir William Jones. From the account of biographers she was one of the most beautiful, accomplished and virtuous ladies of the age in which she lived. On a blank leaf of a manuscript copy of Petrarch's Virgil, the following lines were written by his own hand: “Laura, illustrious by her own virtues, and long celebrated in my verses, appeared to my eyes, for the first time, the sixth of April, 1327, at Avignon, in the church of St. Claire, at the first hour of the day: I was then in my youth. In the same city, on the same day, and at the same hour, in the year 1348, this luminary disappeared from our world! I was then at Verona, ignorant of my wretched situation. That chaste and beautiful body was buried the same day, after vespers, in the church of Cordeliers: her soul returned to its native mansion in heaven! To retrace the melancholy remembrance of this great loss, I have written it, with a pleasure mixed with bitterness, in a book to which I often refer. Since the strongest cord of my life is now broken, with the grace of God I shall easily renounce a world where my cares have been deceitful, and my hopes vain and perishing.”

Petrarch died in the year 1374, at Arqua, and his body was interred in the chapel of the Virgin, which he, not long before his death, had built.

In what manner shall I speak of this accomplished author? Or how shall I describe the delight which he has given me? To call him the greatest poet of his day, will not express his merits.....to place him at the head of all lyric and elegiac poets, would be no more than his due! He has indeed written but little; but that little is in a superlative manner. He reverenced the world too much to give it the hasty production of a day. He wrote for immortality, and immortality will be his reward. He was a poet who consulted his feelings when he wrote. The silence of seclusion, and the gloom of melancholy, dictated his Elegy in a Country Church-Yard. He has himself acknowledged, in a letter to his friend, that an aged Welchman, playing on his harp, excited him to complete his ode, entitled, “The Bard.”

England has lately lost this excellent man and poet....to whom she is indebted for his elegant instructions conveyed in the Task. Cowper was a writer, original in his thoughts, and undaunted in his delivery of truth. His representations are uncommonly striking: I need only instance his picture of Omai....the Woodman, and his Dog....Crazy Kate....and Mysagathus.....His principal faults are his want of connection throughout his poem, and his not attending sufficiently to the harmony of his numbers. He discovers, in numerous passages, that he was capable of the utmost harmony. Cowper's satires, particularly his Table Talk, and Progress of Error, are among the most chaste and dignified compositions of that class, in the English language.

Richardson was an author of uncommon merit; his knowledge of nature was extensive; his characters are drawn with a masterly hand; his delineations of the passions are accurate; his moral sentiments judicious. He wrote with a good intention, for he was a man of virtue and of piety.

“Comic romance has been brought to perfection in England by Henry Fielding; who seems to have possessed more wit and humour, and more knowledge of mankind than any other person of modern times, Shakspeare excepted; and whose great natural abilities were refined by a classical taste, which he had acquired by studying the best authors of antiquity. The great lord Lyttleton, after mentioning several particulars of Pope, Swift, and other wits of that time, when I asked some questions relating to the author of Tom Jones, began his answer with these words, ‘Henry Fielding, I assure you, had more wit, and more humour, than all the persons we have been speaking of out together.”

With these remarks of Dr. Beattie I agree. In many of the qualifications of a novelist Fielding is unrivalled. In speaking of the genius displayed in fictions, I could not pass over him; but the truth must not be withheld....that his works contain many scenes of indecency! his works, therefore, I would by no means recommend. There are few novels that I would recommend unconditionally; and I would advise, that all of them should be read sparingly.

This celebrated French lady is remarkable for the versatility of her talents. She is justly entitled to a place in the first rank of literary females. She is sometimes a sentimentalist visionary and erroneous, but always ingenious. Her theatre of Education is a pleasing instructor to the early years of life. Her Tales of the Castle, her Rival Mothers, and Knights of the Swan discover sensibility, talents of description, and invention.

This writer is justly an universal favourite. In her manner of novel writing she is unrivalled. The three novels which she has written, have each peculiar merits. Camilla manifests the greatest extent of observation.....Evelina has most simplicity....but I think that Cecilia manifests most genius, and excites greatest interest.

This lady, who has been called almighty magician, soars amid the wild regions of romance. Her imagination is strong and daring; and, though it sometimes fails in its attempt, it is generally successful. In her department of genius, in the present day, none can approach her. She leaves far behind her the Monks and Castle Spectres. It is remarkable of this writer, that, from her first performance to the last, she has been advancing to greater excellence. Her Italian is the noblest production of her pen, and one which I think she will never exceed.

It is said that Corinna was the instructor of Pindar; and often in competition with him bore away the prize.

Who does not wish to vindicate the character of Mary, queen of Scots? What heart has not bled over her interesting history? Who does not lament her thoughtless levities, her criminal follies? Who does not execrate the stern policy, the hardened vices of Elizabeth, which doomed to the scaffold this enchanting woman, unrivalled in loveliness, accomplishments, and distresses? Who, that has read her beautiful lamentation on her unhappy fate, does not feel the fervour and pathos of her genius?

Criticism has called this lady, the first poetess of Italy.

The instances are innumerable which confirm this assertion. I shall notice some, which are the most striking....Cicero, the first name on the page of antiquity, failed in his attempts at poetry.....Archimedes, whose name may stand for a large class devoted to mathematics, had little taste for any other branch of literature, than geometry. There are not a few, who would prefer the investigation of the legs and wings of the most tiny insect, to the contemplation of the brightest planet that rolls through the worlds of space! Berkeley, to the exclusion of most other employments, was forever attempting to dig in a well without a bottom....while Gray, who at his time, was pronounced to be the first scholar in Europe, had no taste either for mathematics or metaphysics; in a letter to his friend are contained the following sentences, “Must I plunge into metaphysics? Alas! I cannot see in the dark; Nature has not furnished me with the optics of a cat. Must I pore upon mathematics? Alas! I cannot see in too much light; I am no eagle. It is very possible that two and two make four, but I would not give four farthings to demonstrate this ever so clearly; and if these be the profits of life, give me the amusements of it.” Perhaps the three modern writers who possessed the most universal genius were Leibnitz, Milton, and Haller.

Literature is much indebted to the author of the Pursuits of Literature, and to Mr. Gifford, the author of the Baviad and Mæviad, for their poems and criticisms. The Pursuits of Literature is a work which discovers genius, correctness of mind and great extent of information, and is calculated to restore true taste and true learning. While its author liberally approves the works of the true philosopher and the true poet, he points his overcoming satire against all those who would propagate false principles and false taste. Some of his opinions on subjects of religion and criticism I deem erroneous and unfounded. As a minister of the Gospel I cannot, however, restrain my admiration of this author for the morality of his strains, for his defence of religion against the attacks of impiety and a new and dangerous philosophy.

Eloquence as well as poetry has been the inexhaustible subject of investigation. Which is the most proper mode of pulpit-eloquence? is a question which has been often asked, and differently answered. The Abbe Maury, in his lively and entertaining treatise, has denied their due merits to the English divines; and the English divines, on the other hand, do not sufficiently infuse into their discourses the fire and passion of the French manner. Theology has been reduced to a perfect science; there are no new truths in religion to be explored; he, therefore, who, with an accurate investigation of these truths, connects a cultivated taste and exercised imagination, and subjects these powers under the guidance of reason, will be a more agreeable and persuasive combatant for divine truth than the preacher, who, though skilled in theology, has no perception of beauty and sublimity; but who delivers trite truths in triter forms. To the pulpit, the close and indissoluble reasoning of a Locke is not adapted; were preachers to reason like him, their hearers would return from church as edified as they came there; the mind must be aided by the silence and solitude of the closet, to comprehend the chain of such arguments.

The preacher must employ other weapons than syllogism; he must observe a medium between argument and declamation; the passions, as well as the understanding, must be addressed. Declamation, without a due proportion of argument, would have no effect upon the understanding; and argument, without declamation, would have no force upon the passions; therefore, to address the souls of men with power, and justly to accommodate the discourse to the prevailing taste, declamation and argument should be united. A forcible illustration, a forcible appeal to the heart, and a forcible question, will oftentimes convince, when many pages of the most masterly reasoning would fail. In proof of this, I appeal to the figurative expressions of our Saviour, and to some of the discourses of St. Paul....I appeal to some of the most eminent divines in the Christian church....I appeal, particularly, to Massillon, one of the most eloquent of men; read his discourses; you find Genius breathing in almost every sentence. You discover in his works, reason which, while it convinces the understanding, at the same time impresses the heart. What did he say when he drew the whole audience, by an instantaneous impulse, upon their feet? Did he prove, by mathematical deductions that small were the number which should be saved? No....he told them the plain truth from the scriptures; and presented that truth in the most striking colours. Notwithstanding the eulogy I have passed upon Massillon and his unrivalled excellence in his addresses to the heart, I am far from thinking him a perfect model for the preacher. He indulges, perhaps, too much in declamation. To arouse, to terrify, to melt into tears, appears generally to be more his aim than to instruct. In making this remark I except several of his discourses, particularly his wonderful discourse on the divinity of our Saviour. He, in my conception, would be a finished model of pulpit eloquence, who united the erudition and sublimity of Barrow, the warmth and pathos of Massillon, the acuteness and ingenuity of Sherlock, the condensity of Ogden, with Witherspoon's method of discussing theological doctrines.

At Greece, painting was first brought to perfection. The most famous schools in Greece were opened at Athens, Corinth and Rhodes. Rome afterwards cultivated this art; but, at the overthrow of that empire, it was swallowed up in the same grave with literature and science. In the year 1450, it again revived in Italy, and was advanced to an eminence, perhaps equal to that which it held in either Greece or Rome. Raphael Santio was born in the year 1483. He died in his thirty-eighth year. He surpassed all modern painters. His invention was unbounded. He possessed all the graces; and in the disposition of his pieces, he has left Michael Angelo, Titian and Corregio far behind him. Du Fresnoy, in his Art of Painting, and in his observations connected with that poem, considers him as the prince of modern painters, and characterizes him in these lines:

Sculpture is acknowledged to be one of the most difficult of the fine arts. It is remarkable that it was the favourite art of Greece, and that her sculptors were more numerous than her painters. To this national enthusiasm the Grecian statues are principally indebted for their exquisite perfection....Dædalus is supposed to have been the first who formed a statue; Phideas, Praxitiles, Polycletus and Lysippus, his most successful Grecian followers. Sculpture we are informed by history emigrated from the desolated cities of Greece into Syria and Egypt. She was there employed to serve the pomp and pageantry of courts, and Alexandria under Ptolemy Philadelphus became, in the cultivation of this art, almost what Athens had been. Rome imitated but never equalled Greece in sculpture. The most celebrated statues which have been rescued from the ruins of time, are the Apollo Belvidere....the Medicean Venus....the Hercules....the dying Gladiator and the Laocoon....“Of all the productions of art (says a recent writer on sculpture and painting) the statue of Apollo is unquestionably the most sublime. It rises indeed as a single figure to the highest pitch of excellence; But I confess the group of the Laocoon, appears to me a superior effort of sculpture.”

See in Burney's history of music, the wonderful effects of this art upon the mind. And an account of its greatest masters.

Not only in the sister arts, Poetry, Painting, Statuary and Music, but in Architecture is the force of Genius discovered. You behold the image of a creative mind in the proportions of a noble edifice. The uniformity and unparalleled simplicity of the Rotunda, the strength and majesty of St. Peter's dome, are not the result of mere mechanical skill, but of a bold and aspiring imagination. The vaulted roof, and the lofty column which seem to rest upon the horizon, and to repose in air, speak the elevation of the constructor's mind. The civilization and refinement of nations are strongly marked by the plan and order of their buildings. The elegance, uniformity and strength of the Grecian temple, form a fine contrast with the gloom and heaviness of the Gothic castle.....From the houses and pagodas of the Chinese, the wigwam of the Indian, and the hut of the Hottentot, we may almost be taught the characters of their inhabitants.