^^ Vc^.Sf. B7eG GNOMICA h-\ GNOMICA: DETACHED THOUGHTS, SENTENTIOUS, AXIOMATIC , MORAL AND CRITICAL : BUT ESPECIALLY WITH REFERENCE TO POETICAL FACULTIES, AND HABITS. BY Sir EGERTON BRYDGES, Bar/, R. C. de S. etc. etc. GENEVA, Printed by W. F I C K. Feb. mdcccxxiv. ( 75 copies only. ) («) THE AUTHOR, ON HIS BOOK . ENTITLED GNOMICA. -TLnd thus I wander on ! From day to day The lore accumulates ; the pondering mind Pierces some region new ; some cloud expells , That sat upon it ; casts a wakening ray On some neglected spot ; or strives to find In some forgotten Poet's strains the spells Potent to raise his memory from the tomb ; And round it call fresh flowers once more to bloom : Enforces some exploded truth, that long Folly and Ignorance have leagued to veil ; Fearless defends the genuine sons of Song; And scorns I he minions whom the rabble hail ! "Were praise my aim ; and were the clamour loud Of n/imlc multitudes the wild desire , Tbat foaming in my turgid bosom burn'd ; Not thus had been mine idle pains bestow'd ; ]Not thus been spent th' unprofitable fire, That still by those it courted had been spurn'dl But I have other aims : within my soul Other ambition glowing , scorns controul : Within my brain , wild as the ]\orthern lights Th' Autumnal evening shews , whose radiance gay ' Quick- glancing , now enraptures , now affrights , Gnoniica. *) Visions in mingled shade and snnshine play ! — Restless they play; and ever as the beams Of brightness some returning cloud obscures , Sinks my gloom*d heart ; my wasted spirits die : Then grateful is the toil intense , that seems To clear the gathering darkness; and allures Hope to my bosom back ; and bids me high In confidence again re-lift my daring eye. For what is he , whom groveling on the earth Mean Self-abasement holds ? His very birth He curses , as decreed in evil hour; Within his breast all frightful Passions reign ; Hatred , and Jealousy , and Envy lour ; Blackness unmingled ; and unbalanced Pain. But I have struggled long; and when the flame Died in my bosom ; and my waning force Scarce thro' my limbs the languid life-spring drew, By vigorous effort I have dared to claim Revival of my spirit at that source , Where the Muse deigns her votaries to renew By cups divine of her Castalian dew. And now I sink no more : — the looks that freeze. No more with death-like cold my heart can sieze : The blame , the scorn, the glance, the hollow sneer, The feeble praise that damns , the cavil sly That in half-utter'd whispers meets the ear ^ Comments perverse , the bold artillery Of Critic Ignorance that can rely On crowds prepared its standard still to join , Aud when it sounds the onset , form the line I All fruitless waste their malice : — calm I view The gathering mischief in the cauldron brew : Inward the bubbling poison turns its fires; And burning in its fieadlike source expires ! (c) But am I happy? — In this calm of pride; In this defying confidence, that asks No flattering tongue-, and hopes no praise sincere, Is aught of joy ? Or will it turn aside The Ministers of Sorrow from their tasks ; Or soothe away th' incumbent Phantom , Fear ? Alas , such mighty powers it has not ! — Still It has a charm to ward off many an ill ! — It dissipates the blight accursed, that comes To nip the tender blossom in the bud; It backward bends the savage blast , that dooms - Fruit , foliage , to the ground , in ruin strew'd : It nurses Contemplation in her cell ; And bids the poet with enchantment dwell On dreams of fairy form created by his spell. There is no happiness : — but in the pains Of our existence multiplied degrees Vary the trial, to which Heaven ordains Each mortal's lot by its unscann'd decrees- Rule to the heart, and culture to the mind; The fortitude that bears with human wrong , And nurses still its fires; th' enduring eye, That looks on Folly's triumph, yet is kind , And keeps unchill'd its energy of song, And cherishes within th' emotion high ; The Hope that never dies; the spring of joy , Which nor clouds stain, nor earthquakes can destroy t Virtues like these , dominion over Fate Hold not entire ; — but they can yet appall The fiendlike eye of Envy ; and when Hate Lifts the dread dart aloft , can bid it fall Without a blow from the recoiling arm; And blast the rage that strove to deal the deathlike barm. But why is glory to the wise denied id) Why flourish in the sun of wordly smile* Corruption , Meanness , Avarice , fraudful Gains ; All Moral Turpitude ; all senseless Pride ; Each false Pretence ; Deception that beguiles Worth of the pittance that sad life sustains ; And Genius of its self-supporting fires ? Why waits success on heartless Crime's desires ? While he , whom all of grand , and all of fair , And all of tender, ravishes with bliss Ineffable , — abandon'd to despair , — Is left in tears Affliction's rod to kiss ? « Scorn to the bard, » the flippant censor cries,* «Scorn , and neglect , and penury , and woe , »Who dares with voice malign on Fortune's ways »To comment I — Let him spend his nights in sighs, »His days in lonely gloom: — but let him go i>Far from the chearful haunts of Man to raise »His chill laments ; and leave the light and gay »0n gilded wings of Pleasure , while they may , »Beneath the sunshine of their fate to play ! » — But what must happen , there is joy to sec In its bold colours painted to our view 1 We love companions in our misery : We love the tears that are to Pity duel There is a grandeur in Adversity , If still to her resolves heroic true , Thongh bending to the storm , she lifts on high Her head unconquer'd o'er th* assailing crew ; And in defiance bids the foe bis blasts renew ! — But once more cease , my Lyre 1 thy trembling strings For even wildly sounding liavc no rest : From my full heart still breathe th' incessant sighs , («) With -which each tender chord responsive rings : Then by its weight of thought no more opprest, Bouyant my elastic bosom seems to rise ! Yet who will listen to the self-same tone , That like the lulling wind's unvaried moan, Still murmurs on unbroken ? — Leave the space To harps that can with airier music grace The listening crowd ; and strike with livelier sound The spot where Nymphs and Satyrs beat the ground, Circling with plaudits their fanastic round : While Shout, and Laughter, Sport, and wanton Glee, Boast of the eternal reign of Revelry. And let them loudly boast ! Be theirs the breast. That has no sympathy for human woe; And ne'er took Care or Forethought for its guest j Th' unwiinkled Ease that never sought to know In purer essences ideal joy ! — Be they content ! — but they may find , at last , That the light pleasure , which has no alloy , If without pain , has without rapture past : And thou mayst still , though grave in looks and voice, Sometimes in extacy of heart rejoice ! — Geneva, ia.ti» March y 1824. 3^ PREFATORY LETTER. M Y DEAR * * * Geneva, 7 Feb. 18^4. The following detached Papers were written at the dates respectively affixed to them. This may be an amusement , which you will not blame : but you will ask , « why print them ? » — I answer : because they seem to me to con- tain truths , which are not only intrinsically important , but the reverse of trite. "What is stale , however just , will not bear repetition : though it may please those weak intellects , which can only comprehend what is fami- liar to them ; and dislike that which puts their faculties of apprehension to the trial. Nothing differs more than the purposes which different authors propose to themselves by their writings. Some use them as the means of pecuniary profit , or at least of worldly success and exaltation in society and in the bu- siness of life. Such men are the slaves of public opinion ; and must follow and flatter the passions and prejudices of mankind , instead of going contrary to them , and of en- deavouring to correct , or expose them. Others are car~ ried by an irresistible impulse to search for Truth ; and place their whole gratificatiqn in the intrinsic value of the discovery. VI ^RKfATORY LFTTKR. « But what is the proof of the discovery ? Are not errors to as likely to take place here , as in the opinions of the » multitude ? » -^ It may be admitted , that labour may not succeed ; cultivation may not produce fruit ; talents may err ; genius may misapprehend false lights Tor genuine I But will ignorance therefore judge more accurately than knowlege ; passion and interest decide more justly than calm and abstract reflection ; and coarse and dull capaci- ties penetrate deeper than native acuteness , sagacity , and force ? -— In these days Men born for better purposes have no shame in pampering the appetites of the Multitude. They laugh to themselves , w^hile they cry in secret ; « qui vult decipiy decipiatur I » — Yet neither the fields of moral phi- losophy , nor of history , nor of fiction , are exhausted ; — nor ever will be exhausted ! — Books are multiplied , which only load libraries , and encumber or mislead the mind : while almost all that requires to be entered upon, is shunned as if it were evil and pestilent ground. It is the domination of popular opinion which has effected this. L'Abbc Brizard in his Eloge on L'Abbe de Marly, says, ft Les Lettres lui offroient un asyle ; il se refugia dans leur sein ; il prefera I'etude , son cabinet , ses livres , une pauvrete noble et libre a toutes les seductions de la for- tune; et aussi-tot qu'il eut pris son parti , on ne le vit jamais jeter un regard en arriere. N'ayant rien a pretendre ne rien a perdre , ses sentimens ^toient a lui : il ne fut point oblige d'enchainer ses idees aux idees des autres , d'adopter leurs opinions , et de recevoir , pour ainsi dire , sns pensees toutes faconn^es de leurs mains : il crut qu'il falloit d'etre soi. II se s^para de la multitude , et marcha presque seul dans I'etroit sentier qu'il s'^toit trac^. Ses principes et son caractere , ses ecrits et sa conduite tran- cherent toujours avec le gout dominant , et le ton gent^ral de son siecle. » — PRKFATORY LETT3R. . YH I . : . Again in the Notes it is said, that ^"'* ' •*'' ' « Son desinteressement etoit tel , qu'il ne relira rien die ses ouvrages ; a peine exigeroit-il quelques exemplaires pour les presens d'usagcs ; bien different de ces litterateurs qui n'estiment dans le commerce des Muses que le profit que ce commerce leur rapporte. » In the paths -which the public taste favours, there is nOt difficulty to find authors : — it is in the walks of laborious research and profound thought that the rarity lies ; in which excellence is an obstacle to fame ; and in which there is no encouragement but the internal satisfaction of self-devoted enthusiasm,. I do not recollect an instance of a writer for hire , or of one mainly influenced by lucre, whose productions have . continued in repute witb posterity. Profit comes from a quick and indiscriminate reception : what is of lasting in- terest , and depends on the approbation of master minds , is of slow progress. It is , as in the animal and vegetable world : what is of rapid growth , is proportionally short- lived. Milton's Paradise Lost required the weight of the authority of the leading talents of successive generations to procure for it the due reception. If the merit of a literary work is to be tried by the number of readers , whom it interests, what work of genius can be put m competition with a Newspaper ? Many publications are calculated to circulate exactly in proportion as they vicious. What ia so popular , as personalities , satii*e , scandal , and libel ? « But if the Public will not hear , why not let them ga » their own way without vain exertions to controul them ? » — Is it certain then , that the exertions are quite vain ? — Are there not a few choice spirits , who may be touched and pleased ? If there be truth , if the production contain any thing of life , some of the seeds are sure to fall in 9^ congenial soil ! But if it do no good , if it be exToneous ^ YIII PREFATORY LETTER. or dull, — SO long as it neither flallers any vice, nor pro- pagates any mischief, whom can it harm , unless the author in his pocket ? If it be harmless to others , the author at least has been amused , and innocently occupied : — nor , if he has missed the truth , is it possible that he can have avoided to improve and strengthen his mind by the exer- cise f Will any one write but with the hope that what he ■writes may some day be brought to the test of other men's minds ? And who, till he has written, is sure of the clear- ness and rectitude of his own conceptions ? The importance of the topics , which are discussed in this volume, wall be differently estimated by minds and dispo- sitions differently formed. Many of them are questions which will almost daily recur to a certain' class of literary devotees: and moral and conscientious minds are always pleased with whatever contributes to allay the restlessness of doubt. Providence , indeed , has permitted a portion of mankind to remain content with a sensual existence , free from the disturbance of inquisitive thoughts , and of anxious fears regarding the ends of our Being , and the purposes of the intellectual capacities with which we are endowed. But there is a sleepless fire , which , if not universally , is widely implanted in the human heart; and this fire is ever at work to stimulate us to higher hopes , and to urge us to explore the more shadowy qualities of that part of our nature which allies us to a more spiritual slate of exis- tence. — Into these subtle and invisible regions there are many who feel a reluctance , and still more who feel an incapacity, to go. But yet there are enough to satisfy the pride of him who liolds the torch to them. The abstruscness of metaphysical and psychological stu- dies renders the pursuit of them very difficult. The only sane fountain of intelligence is to be sought in strict in- PREFATORY LETTER. IX ternal examination ; and the best lights are of course to be. had, where tlie capacities examined are brightest. But per- sons of lively thought , active sentiment , and strong ima- gination , have 'Seldom the patience necessary for this strict and laborious scrutiny. The task therefore falls for the, most part on those whose ^resources are less' rich , and secrets less worth unveiling. In this field then much remains to be explored ; and all that is drawn from this rich and genuine fountain is a treasure gained. Though a large portion of those who write for the Press, are but mere echoes of echoes, and continue to multiply the same ideas and expressions , still enfeebled and become more imperfect at every remove; and though of these the proof that it is a mere copy is so obvious as to permit no doubt ; yet there are other small portions of authors , who tread upon the confines of originality ; who sometimes for a moment enter within the boundaries ; whose efforts therefore it would be an unjust severity to stifle ; who may at least have a chance of being useful j and who by some lucky collision may contribute some sparks to enlighten the world. If it were to be assumed that mankind are already arrived at the acme of human intelligence ; that all of good and wise which can be thought and said , has been already adequately thought and said , the Human Mind would soon lose its vigour , and by no slow descent fall into torpor and imbecilUty. It is impossible to be stationary : if we do not endeavour to be progressive, we shall be retrograde. On many sub- jects much doubtful speculation must be hazarded before we arrive at the truth : there must be much sifting ; for the golden ore will sometimes be unexpectedly found amid dust and rubbish. — It would be a most censurable severity to suppress, every thing which does not unite perfection of genius and X PREFATORY LETTER. truth : I mean , of that which aspires to be of a general nature : for what is temporary and occasional must always be called for ; and requires only novelty of application ; not of matter. He , who tasks himself to develop principles and senti- ments , undertakes an arduous and high function ; and ought to be treated with candour and favour, if he shews abilities and exertions in any degree commensurate to his ambition. Facts , which form the matter of history , are , when the interest derived from novelty has ceased , only valuable so far as they illustrate principles and sentiments. These last alone fomi the essence of the fruits of the high- est efforts of the human intellect : to these last alone may be ascribed the qualities of ubiquity and eternity. — The rewards of permanent literature are so distant , so contingent , and so shadowy , that the fires necessary to sustain the pursuit must be of the purest and most inex- tinguishable kind. What touches transient , personal , and narrow interests , gives a strong though quickly-spent im- pulse ; it supplies false strength ; and affords factitious aid which for a little while is mistaken for genius. The mass of Human Beings are born to know only sa far as they are taught ; to strike out no new lights ; to form no new lessons ; to clear up nothing which is obs- cure ; to withdraw the veil from nothing which is hidden. Few of them know much of what books or conversation will teach ; and none of them know any thing beyond. — Not only is that , which is new and just , reserved for the discovery of gifted minds; but the most original pow- ers often catch light only by fits amid surrounding dark- ness. The flashes come and are lost again: and it is only by repeated intensity of view, that what they display is al length clearly distinguished. \. But of the Few , who possess the faculties of original PREFATORY LETTER. thought, some are overpowered by diffidence to waste the precious inheritance by compiling from their predecessors; •while of the Deficient, many are urged by arrogance and vanity to make impotent efforts at thinking for themselves, which end in vapour or absurdity. Despondence sometimes makes the strong limit their toils to humble undertakings : and the i?ublic is always willing to judge them by their meanest , and not by their best works. It is not believed that he who has employed him- self in the timid and ucionbitious occupation of Editor , can produce compositions , — much less inventions , — of his own. And such an one perhaps does very ill in losing his time in labours , which a common dull mechanical atten- tion will execute much better than his excursive talents. Literature , which was formerly the solace of wisdom in solitude , the refuge of the afflicted , and the balm of the unfortunate , is now become the dirty instrument of the Cunning , working their way in society over the heads of unintriguing merit. The whole cast of opinions inculcated is the cast of men of the world : every thing is estimated by its fitness for success in life ; and every thing ridiculed which is not calculated for that end. All observers notice the decided triumph with which an adroit man, daily con- versant with life, by the aid of very moderate talents and acquirements takes the lead in company, over one of great abilities and knowlege who has lived much out of the world and alone. It is thus that the mechanical litera- ture , which is in possession of the public ear , turns the weapons in which it deals to its own account. It knows where the laugh is ready ; and its first aim is to destroy the respect , which wards off aggression. What is called good common sense , is very often nothing more than a mean preference of direct and selfish interests to those noble and ideal ambitions , by which only any thing great XII PREFATORY LETTER. is ever performed. The world does not require to be ren- dered more acute in what self- interest prompts : it requires only to be encouraged in those rarjer faculties and pas- sions , by -which the present is sacrificed to the future ; the near to the distant ; and what is before us to that which is absent. An endeavour is constantly made to divert the public mind from the true tests of intellectual superiority. Yet there is no just opening for difference of opinion on the subject. No one of sound mind who has read and thought, for instance , can doubt what constitutes poetical genius. No one can doubt that its primary quality is an imagina- tion of things noble, pathetic, or beautiful. Dry Reasoning will not do ; abstract moral truths will not do ; ingenious and correct deductions from profound or nice observation will not do : — nay , mere fancy , though vivid , — the lively representation of a particular reality , — is not the power which constitutes the primary quality of a poet. There must be fiction , creation , invention : — the mind must combine anew the materials which the fancy collects from without. But the combination must not be incon- gruous and monstrous : it must be probable , and accor- ding to the laws of nature : and it must also be sublime , •or fair , or tender. Imagination of what is grotesque or revolting or mean is not poetical : because the purpose of poetry is to give refined and virtuous delight. Indiscriminalive and blundering minds take Imagination in its unlimited sense to be synonymous with Poetry. But if the above position be true , a poetical imagination re- quires other qualities than mere invention or fiction. If mere novelty be sufficient , without regard to propriety and verisimilitude , there can never be much difficulty in invention. PREFATORY LETTER. Xlll But in a late stage of society , when manners are very corrupt , and sentiments lake, a temperament of faclitious fever , the simplicity of truth lias lost its charm : what is piquant and stimulative is alone endured; — and if the impulse be violent , no matter how short its duration ! ■— Works are now written for vendibility alone ; and there- fore are framed to the humble faculties and acquirements of the Multitude : And Criticism for the same reason , ii- stead of directing its efforts to cheer the labours and extend the influence of Genius and Learning, applies all its ingenuity to confirm the Multitude in the vain conceit of its own right taste. It is said by the advocates of the liberty , or rather licence , of the Press, that the guilt of popular errors must not be attributed to it ; because it follows , not leads, the popular opinion. — This is true : — but then it is equally mischievous in re-acting upon it , and confirming it. Mercenary writers do not trouble themselves about con- victions : they have no fixed opinions : they are the mere conduit-pipes of what springs from others ; and transmit without care or enquiry whatever is poured into them. But what supplies occasion to pause and reflect ; what gives hints for doubt , and data for enquiry and examina- tion , cannot be useless , unless it be done feebly or igno- rantly or perversely. Too many of mankind , indeed , are utterly indifferent ■with regard to the intellectual nature of their Being : — they are content with the luxury of the material blessings of their existence : they are affected by no uneasiness to have those doubts resolved , about which they never felt any curiosity : and they have no desire to ascertain the qualities fitted for success in that line of ambition, to which they are totally insensible. WV PRLrATORY LLTTLTV. 10 Feb. 1824. I had written thus far , when a work fell , yesterday , into my hands, in which I have found, (almost through- out , ) an extraordinary coincidence of opinion with that which I have advanced in this Letter, and endeavoured to enforce in almost every part of this volume. As these opinions are strongly opposed both to the prejudices and the necessary modes of thinking of the generality of rea- ders , I am more anxious for the support of an author of credit on this subject, than for the praise of novelty. It is true that authority cannot turn error into truth ; and that the proposition , which is built upon reason , can stand l)y itself. But there are certain conclusions directly opposed to the stream , on which it is impossible to avoid a little self-distrust. One may suspect some self-deception ; some radical misapprehension ; some unperceived influence of passion or prejudice. But the concurrence of a man of acknowledged learning and talent , of a different age and nation , and of different habits , satisfactorily removes the fear of the operation of accidental and irrelevant impulses upon one's mind ; and is evidence that the source of these conclusions is to be found in general principles , and the common laws of reason. L'Abbe Trublet (*) in Essais sur Divers Sujets de Lit" terature et de Morale fG.^ Edit, Amsterdam , 1765, 11.^ J in his Chapter containing Reflexions sur le Gout , ou Von examine la Maxime ; qu'il faut ecrirc pour tout le monde t fvol, II. p. 20 J says : « II faut ^crire pour tout le monde , si Ton veut plaire a tout le monde ; mals , pour arriver a ce but , il faut ecrire dune maniere moins parftiite , que si Ton u ecrivoit que pour les gens de beaucoup d'esprit. » P. 12. i*) Obt. X770, aet. 74. PREFATORY LETTER. XT P. 26. « II y a d«s Ouvrages qui ne sont plus repan- dus , et plus generalement goutes que d'autres , que parce qu'ils sont moins estimables , et moins estimes en effet des vrais connoisseurs. lis ne sont a la portee de tout le monde que paree que leurs Auteurs , peu capables de penser au - dela , n'etoient point eux - memes des esprits superieurs. Les Auteurs ne doivent done pas toujours me- surer leur merite a leur sueces. lis doivent croire au con- traire qu'il y a de grandes beautes qui ne sont pas d'un gout si general que de moindres , lesquelles , par cela meme , sont a la portee d'un plus grand nombre. » (*) « L'Ecrivain qui pense beaucoup , et qui fait penser , ne sera jamais I'Ecrivain de la multitude* Elle ne sauroit monter jusqu'a lui ; et il ne pourroit descendre jusqu'a elle y qu'en se rabaissant. » P. 58. « La plupart des Ouvrages que le public estime- le plus aujourd'hui , ne sont parvenus que par degres a eette approbation universelle. IJn sueces trop brillant dans, les commencemens , est un mauvais prejuge pour la suite ^ et ne prouve souvent que la mediocrile d'un Ouvrage. Des beautes qui sont a la portee de tout le monde , ont bien~ t6t fait leur impression. De grandes beautes sont quelque- fois moins frappantes ; et il est rare qu'un Ouvrage du premier merite obtienne d'abord les suffrages du grand nombre. L'estime du public n'est jamais plus constante ^ que lorsqu'elle s'est fait attendre quelque terns. » P. 60. « Quant a ceux qui veulent plaire a la posterity plutot qu'a leur siecle , qui ambitiannent une gloire du- rable plutot qu'un sueces passager , la prudence leur dicte d'ecrire pour le petit nombre. Le sort d'un ouvrage fait pour la multitude , est tout au plus de demeurer entre les mains de la multitude 5 mais il ne passe point dans celles^ (♦) «Mr. de la Motte, Discour's sur Ines. de Castro, ■tx XVI PREFATORY LETTER. dei personnes d'un esprit superieur. Au - contraire , un Ouvrage fait pour le petit nombre , parvient a I'aide du tems dans les mains de tout le mondc. Les gens d'esprit flevent peu-a-peu les esprits les plus mediocres. On se fait lonneur d'etre de I'avis de ceux qui passent pour avoir le plus de lumiere et de discerncmenl. La vanite qui fait d abord parler corame eux , mene ensuite a penser et a sentir comme eux. Ainsi les esprits sc perfectionnant de jour en jour , tel ouvrage trop fort pour le public vivant il y a cent ans , seroit tres a la portee du public au- jourd'hui. Nous sommes plus eclaires que nos ancetres , et nos dcscendans le seront plus que nous. II pourra done bien arriver qu'ils feront asscz pcu de cas de quelques Ouvrages que nous estimons beaucoup ; et qu'au-contraire ils en estimeront beaucoup quelques aulres , auxquels nous ne rcndons pas une entiere justice. Au resle , il y a en tout tems de bons esprits , qui jugent comme jugera un jour la posterite ; il y a en tout tems , si je puis m'ex- prlmcr do la sorte , unc posterite vivante. » Such , among others , is the reasoning of L'Abbe Trublet on the opinion that popularitj is a test of literary merit. The follo-vving seems to me exceedingly well discrimi- nated as to novelty of thought , on which there is a me- morable opinion of D^ Johnson, (in his Life of Gray.) P, 112. « Pour combattre ce que personne n'a jamais cru , qu'une pens^e neuve est celle que personne n'a dd avoir, MJ Desprcaux se jette dans rcxtremitd opposee , lorsqu'il dit , que c'est au contraire une pensce qui a dd venlr a tout le monde. II est vrai , que quelquefois une pensee Ires-brillante n'est au fond qu'une idee commune, revelue d'uji tour ingenieux. II est vrai encore qu'une pcns^e neuve paroit quelquefois si naturelle , qu'on est PREFATORY LETTER. XVIf surpris qu'elle soit neu\e , et qu'on s'imaglne qu'elle a du venir a tout le monde. Mais il y a aussi des pensees qui annoncent et qui caracterisent un genie superieur , des pensees dont on sent bien que tout le monde n'est pas capable; et ce sont sans doute les plus belles. Les autres nous font plaisir ; celles-ci s'attirent notre admiration ; et tel Auteur a merite pour un petit nombre de ces pensees , d'etre mis au rang des plus grands hommes. On the effects of the occupation of writing , the follow- ing seem to me admirable : Vol. IV, p. 4. « La plupart de ceux qui sont dans- I'habitude d'ecrire , n'aiment pas a lire; cela ne les occupe pas assez vivement , et il faut qu une lecture soit tres- piquanle pour ne leur paroilre pas insipide , en compa— raison de la composition. Independamment de I'amour propre , on s 'amuse bien davantage avec son propre esprit qu'avec celui d'autrui. « II vaudroit pourtant mieux faire le contraire , et lire qu'ecrire , du moins pour imprimer. Cela est moins vif, mais plus tranquille , et n'a point de suites facheuses , soit pour la sante que te travail d'esprit detruit souvent , soit pour la reputation que I'impression expose toujours , et qui , repondit - elle aux vceux de I'Auteur , vaut rare- ment ce qu'elle coute. » P. 7. « On compose pour imprimer ; j'imprime pour composer. Si en composant je n'avois pas le but d'impres- sion , mon travail ne seroit pas assez anime pour me, sauver de I'ennui. Quel qu'eut ete le sort de mes Essais , etc. , j'en avois deja retire, avant de les publier, un fruit plus precleux que le succes meme. lis m'avoient long-tetns occupe sans trop m'appliquer. » « On peut dire de la composition , com me de la vertu , XVIII PREFATORY LETTER. qu'elle est a elle - meme sa recompense , par le plaislr qui Taccoinpagne. » « Si les gens de Lettres pouvoient se bomer a ecrirc , a la verite dans le dessein d'imprimer, mais sans I'effectuer jamais , ils seroient peut-^tre les plus heureux des hommes.» « Ordinairement il n'y a qu'a perdre pour un homme qui a une certaine reputation d'esprit , a donner quelque chose au public. 11 est rare que I'ouvrage rcponde a ce qu'on attendoit de r Auteur ; presque toujours on le croyoit capable de mieux. Beaucoup de gens d'esprit, en devenant Auteurs , ont perdu une grande parlie de I'estime dont-ils jouissoient parmi leurs amis et leurs connaissances ^ et qui de-la s'etoit repandue dans le public. » P. II. « Le terns de I'etude et de la lecture peut etre regie et mesure , non celui de la composition. II y a d'heureux momens de genie qui ne reviennent point ; il faut done en profiter , non - seulement quand ils viennent , mais encore , si la sante le permet , tant qu'ils durent. » « On n'exprime jamais si heureusement sa pensec , du moins on ne Texprime jamais si vivement , que dans le premier moment qu'elle vient a I'esprit. C'est alors qu'elle plait davantage. Ensuite on se refroidit pour elle. » P. 20. « It est bien peu d'Auteurs quelque estimes et quelque modestes qu'ils soient, qui ne pensent encore plus avantageusement de leurs ouvrages , que le Public > et meme que leurs partisans les plus zeles. II ne seroit pas juste d'exiger d'un Auteur meprise , qu'il pensat de ses ouvrages comrae le Public ; ce seroit lui commander I'im- possible. » — P, 23. « La grande marque d'un bon Ouvrage , c'est qu'on le lise une seconde fois, sinon avec autant de plaisir que la premiere, du moins avec autant d'estime. XI en est pour lesquels I'estime augraeute a cbaque lecture , ce sont les excellens. » PREFATORY LETTER. XIX « Les i^crivalns qui ont plus d'eclat que de solidite , et plus d'esprit que de jugement, perdent beaucoup a etre relus. Deux autres sortes d'Ecrivains y gagnent , les pen-^ seurs y et ceux qui sans penser autant , ecrivent avec jus- tesse et precision. » But what is most to the purpose of this Prefatory Letter , / find in the first chapter of vol. i. of Trublet that which will make, much better than I can do, the apology I had intended to urge for the matter and manner of the Work now offered to. the Public; which J have chosen to make up of Detached Thoughts, Trublet begins with a chapter « ^ur la maniere d'ecrire » par Pensees Detachees. » /*. 5. « Quelle consolation pour ceux qui aiment le* Lettres , quel secours pour les Auteurs , si les grands hommes qui sont morts , sans avoir compose les ouvragos qu*ils mediloient , avoient jette sur le papier, comme IVfr. Pascal , quelques des pensees qu'ils devoient y faire entrer, et surtout ces principles pensees qui devoient etre la base de tout I'edifice ! « Souvent ce qu'il y a de meilleur dans un Ouvrage , ce sont ces premieres idees , ces pensees qu'on a trouvee* en soi sans les chercher , et qui ont ete I'occasion de I'entreprendre. » — P. 6. « Combien le hazard n'amene-t-il pas de pensees, qu'on ne peut plus retrouver au besoin , et dont il ne reste qu'un souvenir confus ! II y a d'heureux momens dans la vie que ne reviennent point. D'ailleurs la chaleur de la conversation , et les idees des autres , font quelque- fois naitre des pensees qu'on auroit cherchees inutilement dans le cabinet, et a tete reposee. # XX PREFATORY LETTER. « Quand meme on se rappelleroit alsement toutes les pensees qu'on a cues sur un sujet , des qu'on \eut 4c tralter , combien d'autres pensees , qui n'ayant point de rapport a ce qui fait le principal objet des etudes et des ecrits d'un Auteur, sent par-la cntierement perdues pour le public. » /*. 7. « Qu'est - ce qui fait plaisir dans un ouvrage , a un Lecteur homme d'esprit ? C'est ce qui Teclaire, ce qui le fait penser. Tantot ce sera quelque principe lumineux; ' tantot une nouvelle preuve d'une verite ; quelquefois un tour extremement heureux pour exprimer une chose , a la verite assez pommune , mais qui n'avoit jamais ete aussi heureusement exprimee. Voila ce qu'un homme d'esprit cherche dans les Livres , et ce qu'il aime k retenir, Mais souvent il ne rencontre dans de gros volumes qu'un petit nombre de traits de cette nature. » « C'est un grand eloge de dire d'un Livre , qu'il fait l^enser ; et c'est un grand plaisir que la lecture d'un pa- r«eil Livre. Or tels sont surtout les bons Livres de pensees dt'tachees. Un Lecteur , homme d'esprit, et de reflexion, devient Auteur, en lisant Pascal , la Rochefoucauld , la Bruyere. » P. 12. « La maniere d'ecrire par pensees detachces , est, a certains egards, d'un grand secours pour la memoire. Le meillenr moyen de bien retenir ce qu'il y a de plus essentiel dans un Ouvrage d'une certaine etendue , c'est de le reduire en maximes , en sentences , en plusieurs articles. » ;•■'*'• P. 1 3. « On qultte et on reprend un Livre de pensees detachees, quand on le veut ; c'est une commodite. Mais on n'en coutume pas la lecture tant qu'on le veut ; elle n'attache pas assez ; elle fatigue m^me. » — P. 23. Je crains qu'il n'y ait dans cet ouvrage quelques endroits trop abstraits et trop metaphysiques. Je n'anuoncc PREFATORY LETTER. XXt que de la Litterature et de la Morale ; et sur cela le Lee- teur lie se prepare pas sans doute a beauconp d'attenlion. Je I'averlis neanmoins qu'il trouvera quelquefois une asscz long suite de raisonnemens , dpnt il seroit difficile de blcn sentir la liaison et la force, sans quelque application » P. 24. « On ne sauroit guer^s aprofondir un sujet, quel qu'il puisse etre , cliercher les causes des effets les plus communs , et demeler les differences delicates qui sont entre les objets , et un mot philosopher , sans etre un peu abstrait. Mais etre abstrait et etre obscur , c'est la meme chose pour ceux qui sont accoutumes a faire plus d'usage de leur imagination que de leur esprit. Un Ou- vrage clair pour cette espece de Lecteurs , c'est celui qui les eblouit , et qui les remue vivement. Au contraire un Lecteur Philosophe ne trouve souvent que de I'obcurite ct de la confusion , ou les esprits les plus bornes croyent Toir revidence la plus lumineuse. »> — ^s to REPETITIONS iK'/iick , I am Well aivare , will be one of the first objections made to my own Booh , I cite the following passage from Trublet's Avertisscment to his vol, iii. « Je me permets jusqu'aux repetitions , et c'est bien pis que les contradictions. Ces repetitions "vient de ce que j'ai beaucoup medite chacunc de mes pensees , et de ce que les memes se sont presentees a mon esprit en divers terns. Or revenant a ces pensees , ou ces pensees revenant a moi, il m'est venu aussi differens tours pour les exprimer ; et lorsque , peut-elre par amour propre , j'ai ete embarrasse sur le choix , je les ai tous mis » — Vol II. p 359. « J'avoue que je repete volon tiers une verite tres-utile, parce que je crois cette repetition ulilc elle-meme , surtout quand c'est quelqu'une de ces verites que les prejuges ou les passions contestent encore slnon ouvertement, du moins dans le fond du coeur. Quoique XXII PllKFATORY LETTER. communes , quolque dites cent fois , elles ne I'ont pas encore et^ assez souvent , ou assez bien , tandls qu'elles ne sont pas encore generaleraent crues , on qu'en les croyant on n'agit pas en consequence » « Les meilleurs choses qu'on puisse dire aux hommes , sont peut-etre deja ecrites ; mais on ne les chercbe point oil elles sont ; on ne lit que les Livres nouveaux. On a grand tort sans doute , mais enfin on I'a ce tort. » — But I must refrain from farther extracts , lest I should be accused of intruding on you the thoughts and expres- sions of another person , rather than my own : — even "while it is to meet the charge of singularity of opinions. However I must justify my assertions of the small trust to be put in popular taste by one of the highest of all human authorities. In that sublime but neglected poem the Paradise Regained of Milton, the Poet at the commencement of Z^. iii. represents our Saviour shewing to Satan the vanity of worldly fame, and the improper means by which it is generally attained : and in that magnificient reply , is this ])assage : « Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth For empire's sake , nor empire to affect For glory's sake , by all thy argumeut. For what is glory but the blaze of fame , The people's praise , if always praise unmix'd ? A miscellaneous rabble , who extoll Things vulgar, and well weigh'd , scarce worth the praise, They praise , and they admire they know not what , And know not whom , but as one leads the other j PREFATORY LETTER. XXIII And what delight to be by such extoU'd ; * To live upon their tongues , and be their talk , Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise , His lot who dares be singularly good ? • The intelHgent among them , and the wise , • Are few ; and glory scarce of few is raised. » One of the scourges of modern Literature is Periodical: and mercenary Criticism. But I have , since the former part of this Letter was written , found something like an admission of my opinions even in one of the Critical Journals themselves, — (a very able and primary one in- deed, — ) the Quarterly Review for Dec. i823. N.^ lviii. In an Article on Pulpit Eloquence , are the following passages, at p. 3o4. « The spirit of our Times affects what is vague , vast , indefinite ; exaggerated passion , vehement emotion , wild flights of imagination ; a language of perpetual tropes aud figures , regardless of their congruity or relation to the subject , or to each other. The Public Mind is loose and incoherent; its element is restlessness and agitation. Feeling and genius are the catchwords of the day : but the idea of feeling is mere excitation , without regard to any end of purification or improvement: genius j the j^unning riot and creating a multitude of images , beautiful in them- selves y but without order, object j or meaning. This is the tone of much of our popular poetry , — dreamy , mystical, with neither plan , nor system ; and criticism , the vassal slave of our poetry , has as noble a disdain of being in- telligible y as that which it pampers with unceasing adu- lation. » — It is time to lay down my pen ; — or I shall make my prefatory Letter as long -as my Book. Geneva, lo.^^ March, 1824. G N O M I C A. '-^^^- CONTENTS. Prefatory Letter Page v Ch. I. Author s Durpose , . 1 — IF, Strongfeeling the only source of eloquence, 6 — in. Early passion for poetry 11 — IV. Speculative and practical wisdom. Pitt and Burke compared 15 — V. Accidents 20 — \'J, Learning 22 — VIT. Genius 23 — VIII. Abilities 33 — IX. Heart 35 — X. A great mind and great heart . 37 — XI. Time wdl destroy fo^lse pretensions 41 — XII. Multiplication of Books. 42 — XIII. Birth, etc 43 — XIV. Artifice in poetry censured 44 — XV. Selfish and Public Concerns AS -~ XVI. Quiet and Ease 46 — XV 11. Merit above Birth AG — XV 11 1. Ejcaggeration. Popular fovour 47 — XIX. M-mory 51 — XX. The Beaten Path. 52 — XXI. Succession of Authors 4 * , . . B5 —- XXII. Dante ^ Milton', Tasso, Gray 55 XXYI ' GXOMICA. Page Ch. XXIlf. Enjoyments are in the mind 57 — XXIV. Improvement of age : extinction of powers by Death 69 — XXV. Retirement 61 — XXVI. Vanity 62 — XXVII. The desire^/ esteem and approbation. 64 — XXVIII. Gibbon 66 — XXIX. Of the poetical character 68 — XXX. Birlh combined with a competent fortune 71 — XXXI. Mellowness of age id, — XXXII. Frailty of memory 75 — XXXIII. Wordly cunning 76 — XXXIV. Vulgar taste 78 — XXXV. Paucity of the works of English poets. SO -— XXXVI. Common-place characters 81 — XXXVII. Knowlege of Moral Truth 82 — XXXVIII. Mental preeminence the effect of cul- ture 86 — XXXIX. Inequality of destinies 88 — XL. In what compositions an union of all the mental qualities is displayed. 89 — XLI. Knowlege comes too late 90 — X LII. Ubiquity and perpetuity of Gtnius, . . 92 — XLI II. Regretfor the past. Serpentine wisdom, 93 — XLIV. Expansion of genius not overcome by adversity , or difficulties 95 — XLV. Minute and scientific exactness of description of natural scenery^ not the most poetical. — Mischief of false theories 98 — XLVI. Inequality of mental gifts 101 — XLVII. Extrication from localities, ....... 103 Contents. . xxvii Page Ch. XLVIU. The lent of Nature beyond the domi- nion of accidents. 105 — XLIX. Addison , Drjden , Johnson 104 — L. On the charge that men of genius and high talents want judgment and prac- tical sense. 105 — LI. Active and passive wickedness, ...... 120 — LII. Innocent pleasures 121 — LIII. Some fancies delight most in the images of artificial institutions 124 — LIV. Imperfect thinking is paiiful , and re- quires relief from the light of stronger minds 126 — LV. « Woes cluster » 128 — LVI. T//e development of Genius often acciden- tal and unexpected 129 — LVIT. Fame 131 — LVIII, Does nobility in England spring from , or does it involve^ brilliant personal merit ? 133'' — LIX. The matter of literary composition more important than the workmanship. . . . 139 — LX. A clear view of our condition. Proper estimate of riches 140 — LXI, Taste abundant compared with Genius : — but even Taste not general 143 — LXII. The truth of theory not impeached by occasional instances of the erroneous conduct of its promulgators 144 — LXIII. Knowlege of what men are ^ better fit- ted for success in the world , than of what they ought to be 147 — LXJV. The same observations applied to litera- ture 149 XK.VIII Ch. LXV. — LXVI. ^ Lxvir. ^ XLVIII. ^ LXIX. LXX. LXXI. LXXII. LXXIII. LXXIV. LXXV. LXXVI. LXXVII. LXXVIII. LXXIX. LXXX. LXXXF. LXXXIJ. LXXXIII. — LXXXIV. Gnomica. Page The guide of leading minds is neces- sary 150 The Beaten Path the most happy, . . 151 Opposition between the speculative and practical skill of Genius 153 Honours of Birth independent ofB iches. 158 Genius improperly defined to be a general capacity accidentally ap- plied. 159 The value of independence 162 Cunning and Selfishness 164 Busy Novels 165 In what manner a Poet should write his own Life 166 Proper requisites of Tales of Fiction. 168 Duties of a Biographer 173 Distinction between genuine and fic- titious enthusiasm 174 Traits and consequences of the en- thusiasm of Genius 189 Distinct sources of the different cha- racters ill poetical composition tra- ced 184 What are just claims to public notice. 187 Dangers of Imagination 189 The Vision of Poetry 190 Fixed principles of poetical taste in the Soul 192 What are called the prejudices of a native sagacity^ arc generally veri- fied by time 194 Successive ductility and firmness of highly -gifted minds , , . id. Contents. xxnt Page Ch. LXXXV. Opinions of unprincipled worldlings. 1.95 — LXXXVI. Akenside^ and Didactic Poetry 197 — LXXXVI I. The proper criterions of original thinking, , t 198 ■— LXXXVni. The voice of the Multitude , not ihe test of merit .....; 203 — LXXXIX. What constitutes the value of Fancy, 204 — XC. The purity of the mind , and the rectitude of motive , determine the . merit of the action 207 — XCI. Belief in the general selfishness of Mankind destroys peace , and brings despondence 209 — XCII. Familiarity lessens the ugliness of Evil ; — of which still the traits are certain , and cannot be mis- taken 211 — XCIII. Anxiety for the future 213 — XCIV. Liovc of Gain breaks all restraints but the iron bonds of Power 215 — XCV. The Neglected Poet ; (a poetical fragment.) 217 — XCVI. A Poet must be exalted in his own private feelings and habits 221 — XCVII, The aggravated evils of that adver-^ sity f which is driven to seek com- fort in delusions 225 — XCVIII, Repetitions of opinions , not alway s tautologies 227 — XCIX. Gray's Travels 229 — C. Pictures of the penetralia of poetical minds .^ curious and instructive.. , , 231 — . CI, Just Invention • ^^ xnx CnomicaJ Ch. CII. Tests of originality 237 — cm. Nobility may be made too numerous and common 240 — CIV. A day without a line ; ( a Sonnet. ) . . . 242 — CV. Speculation and action 243 — CVI. Tebaldo ; a poetical fragment 246 — CVI I. The line of worldly success. — Use of books 256 — CVIII. Sincerity in composition 260 — CIX. Progress of Poetry 264 — ex. Poetry , not an Art of words. ....... 265 — CXI. Analysis of the faculties of poetical ge- nius 267 — CXII. Pursuits of Genius as virtuous and justi- fiable , as tlwse of more active life . , 270 — ' CXIII. Writings of Borrowers useless ., cumber- some , and due to the fire 273 — CXIV. Originality 275 — CXV. Critique on two of Gray's Odes , 280 — CXVI. Metaphysical Poetry 283 — CXVII. True nature of Poetry 284 — C XVIII. A good Fable is of primary necessity to constitute primary poetry 286 — CXIX. Edward Phillips* s Opinion of the Fable proper for an Heroic Poem 287 — CXX. The notice of what is great can seldom be new 290 — CXXI. Vyiiat is borrowed , need not be posi- tively new : but must be neither stale, nor trifling 291 — CXXII. English Poets, who have written prose. 292 — CXXIII. Sonnet , i8 Nov. iSaS 295 --- CXXIV. Beauties of Shakespeare id. Contents. x Page Ch. CXXV. Notices of Collins , the Poet 299 — . CXXVI. Milton little admired by his cotem- poraries 302 — CXXVII. On the thirtieth day of November , 1823 306 — GXXVIII. To Lord Bacon, 2/^, Aug. iSaS. ... 312 — GXXIX. Popularity not indispensible to useful authorship 313 — CXXX. Bemarks on certain passages in Words- worth's Prefaces to his Poems, re-- garding Popularity 314 — CXXXT. Objection to a particular position of Wordsworth regarding the purpose of poetry — CXXXII. Besolution and firmness necessary to render Genius effective 322 — CXXXIII. Fame is empty : hut the intrinsic plea^ sure of the legitimate occupations by which it is gained, is solid and durable 325 — CXXXIV. On the difference between Classical Poetry , and Bomantic Poetry , eocemplified in Horaces Epode , « Beatus iile , »> and Milton's « II Penseroso. » 330 — CXXXV. Conclusion 335 G N O M I C A. CHAPTER L 23 Blarch 1823. Ihe desire to leave a memorial ojf oneself is generally, if not universally, implanted in Human Nature : ic For who to dumb Forgetfidness a prey This pleasing anxious Being e'er resign'd ; Left the warm precincts of the genial day, Nor cast a longing lingering look behind ?» (^^ Some men spend their lives in action ; some in speculation: 1 have no events to tell, which can interest others : my days have past in soH- tary musing ; in the activity of the mind , — not of the body: and I haVe nothing but thoughts and sentiments to register. I will not fear ; because he who can only preserve the appearance of ability by manage- ment and reserve , must be conscious to himself that he wants ability : and if he feels this con- (*) Gray's Elegy. 2 GNOMICA. CII. I. sciousness , what satisfaction can he derive from a credit given to him by the world for that which he knows he does not merit ? There is one charm in composition , without which all else is vain and lost; — the charm of writing naturally and frankly. (*) The fear of artificial rules, on which technical critics and authors so much insist , destroys all eloquence. It is the experience of a mind highly gifted and higly cnltivated , which an author is anxious should not perish with him. The conclusions of his observation and reason , the permanent sentiments of his heart, at once enlighten our imders landings , and excite our sympathies. The faculties of the head , the susceptibilities of the heart, belong not to the arbitrary distinctions of Society ; and are , for the most part , in- dependent of fortune , intrigue , or adversity. They were common to Surry and Sackville ; and to Rousseau and Burns. It is useless to know the plausible things a man can say, unless we know the convictions of his bosom. We cannot surrender our con- fidence, except to him whom we find free from ostentation and disguise. .< (*) Gray also expresses tLis opinion in his advice to Nicfiolls : and Muller expresses it strongly in his early and eloquent Letters to Donstetten, GT*03I1CA. CXI. I. 3 Even of the small proportion of authors , who aspire to orginaUty, nine tenths draw from no other fountain than Memory, They exert their toils to recollect what will appear most inge- nious and most striking ; and dress it up in tinsel language for the purpose of obtaining an hollow and meretricious fame. Tinnit: inane est. We soon turn from such things with disgust ; and seek out some other empty novelty, itself to be deserted in endless succession ! — Solid truth , conveyed in clear and forcible expression, can alone attract permanent regard. And we then search it , not in derivative autho- rities, but in those from whom it sprung. A great deal , which appears obvious when put into words , is often missed by those who seek it in far-fetched subtleties. What have we since, which comes so home to our bosoms , as that which is to be found in Bacon's Moral Essays , which were first published before the death of Q. Elizabeth ? The opinions of the multitude fluctuate with every age and fashion : the opinions of Litera- ture and Genius only are consistent and durable. We appeal to them from the blind , arrogant, and cruel caprices , or the selfish or factious misrepresentations, of temporary popularity; from 4 GNOMiC/V cn. r. the insolence of vulgar clamour ; or the derision of confident ignorance! There is nothing more erratic than the freaks of ttie mere understanding: systems after systems have been built up by sole argumentative pro^ cesses , to be destroyed again by succeeding discoveries ; while the taste and tests of excels lence of the productions of the fancy and the heart ^re always the same , — subject only to the momentary delusions of fashionable folly. Without fancy , all is particular , narrow , and personal ; confined to circumstances , many of them accidental ; — yielding no general lesson ; ?ind uninteresting beyond self. Fancy , unlimited by time or place ; soaring beyond mere matter j and having her treasures and objects always present at he^? command , can compare and combine as she will : her stores wait her bid-^ ding ; change their place at her nod ; and em^ body themselves into whatever individual shape ghe chooses to contenaplate. It cannot be pretended that these recorded authorities of what is wise and true,^ar^ not wanting. They are to be found in books ; — but they are not to be found in the coarse modes of thinking of practical mankind; which often make the wisdom of Books appear ob- solete , unless their lights be renewed , and their flames stirred from the ashes in which they ftre buried^ GNOMICA. CH. I, D It may be said , that in the multitude of Books , and the multitude of Minds which pro- duced them , authority may be found for any absurd opinions ! — But to offer an authority for an opinion , merely because it is to be found in Books , is the act of a fool. To give it weight, the hand of acknowledged Genius and Yirtue is requisite. — It is probable that practical men have as little inclination, as they have leisure, for any conside* rations or enquiries that the calls of each succes- sive business, in which they are engaged, do not impose on them. They think all beyond these, superogatory : they deem them airy notions , in which it is idleness to be occupied. When a man's experience is confined to his own actions y it may be said in general that the busiest of Human Beings is but a countless cypher. What are the active parts of the lives of Dante and Petrarch ? Buried in oblivion : or if known , insignificant compared with the actions of innu- merable men of common character ! — That part, and onlj that , which has ubiquity and immate^ riality , has made them the heirs of universal fame ! — If the writings of these splendid luminaries did not exist, many historical facts would induce us to believe that the Centuries in which they lived were ages of ferocity and barbarism, But 6 GIVOMICA. CH. I. from these, a reflecting mind will doubt that such ages were as much inferior in refinement and wisdom to ours, as modern assumption deUghts to suppose and represent them. Collision of intellect among the living contri- butes to extensive and deep judgments : — but when the collision embraces all the eminent of departed times , how much more comprehensive must be the comparison and the conflict of materials and faculties! ^ CHAPTER II. 24 March, i8a3. « Quiconque a une dme energlque , un esprit rempli d'idees claires , d'Images vives et justes, parle et ecrit bien tout nalurellement » , Muller. I know of but one source of good writing : — to think and feel justly and forcibly ! All that has other origin , is hollow and tinsel ornament. But who can think justly and forcibly , who has not vivacity of fancy; any more than feel strongly, who has not susceptibility of heart ? They ^ who study not the substance of the thought , but only its expression , are comparative triflers ; like those persons in real life whose whole merit lies in their exterior manners. GlNOMlCA. CH. II. *J Whatever represents things in false colours; to whatever we cannot turn in our sober mo- ments , when sorrow and reflection have made us wise, ought to be rejected as neither a deep nor genuine product of genius. The heart will never approve what is wrong ; nor what is artifi- cial , or capricious : the fancy soon tires of all but truth. They who have not within them the deli- cate mirror which reflects the real forms of things, are only moved by representations of monsters and extravagances. The scenery of this material world ; the native grandeur and tender- ness, or wildness, of our thoughts and emotions, are sufficient to satisfy the active faculties of the most gifted Beings. There is no uniformity of taste in what is out of the course of Nature : no two ages think alike in such aberrations: change and novelty are the essence of their charm; and therefore no author , who has gained distinction by such means, ever preserves long the notice he has attracted. No false thoughts are to be found in any of the ancient Classics, who have been handed down to us as the favourites of successive centuries. They never deal in exaggerated images, and impossible combinations : the moral truths they deliver are the truths of all manners , places , and ages ; such as pervade our general nature , and regulate the universal principles of human conduct. Those 8 GNOMICA. CH. II. factitious enthusiasms, which philosophy and calm reason reject , are unknown to them : and all the tenor of their sentiments and reflections conforms itself to that regulated and temperate experience, in which the science of morality is nurtured and ripened* To soften our affections ; to balance good and evil ; to contrast the innocent delights with the sufferings and misfortunes of life ; not to magnify human frailties , but to pity and forgive them ; especially when set off by redeeming virtues; — these are not the graces merely, but the substance^ of the ingredients necessary to the works which aspire to immortality in the departments of senti- ment and fancy. All sorts of excesses in every thing intellectual or material are followed by satiety and disgust : it is the inevitable property of our nature. The effect of disgust is ineffacible ; at least when it arises from books. We never recur to the work, from which we have experienced this effect. Our greatest poets have been great philosophers ; and many of them excellent writers in prose as well as poetry. They deal in truths , which , though in another form , would afford equal matter for their philosophical works. Thus Gray's poems are moral philosophy, vivified by poetical feehng, and poetical illustration* All their splendor is the native splendor of the sun of genius : — it invi- GNOMICA. CH. ll ' § gorates; — - not exhauts! It expands those tender emotions of the heart , which want nurture , into flowers and fruit. These Poems call up no forced raptures ; but compose our thoughts ; and warn us against those false hopes and ambitions , which will not endure the calni hour of medita- tion, and the « still small voice » of conscience. I doubt if any temptations of popularity would draw a genius of the higher classes into those overwrought fictions and colourings , in which secondary abilities so much indulge. It is a sort of hot-bed temperament , in which the former cannot breathe : like the fresh fragrant flowers of the fields and woods , which put forth their bril- liant but chaste colours , and exhale their odours^ to the free air ; but sicken and die , when shut up in the close heated apartments of Man. It requires so much knowlege , observation j reflection , reasoning , and judgment , as well as imagination and sensibility j to unite moral truth with all the charms of poetry , that the rarity of these united merits cannot be a matter of just Ivonder; It is easy to collect a farrago of gaudy imatges j 6utre sentiments , or glittering language : these l^equire only a ready memory, and a continued application of particular labour. They do not de- mand ei^en one of the primary faculties of the mind ©r heart. And when all their purpose is effected^ JO GNOMIC A. CH. It. they have not added one atom to human know* lege; nor one virtuous emotion to the human bosom. For what do we Uve; and whereby can wc redeem the frailties , to which poor mortality id subject? — By the good we do to others ! — And how can we do more good, than by enlightening the 'moral understanding; and awakening into life the seeds of virtue buried in the bosom of man ? But the tinsel versifier, and the dealer in extra- vagant fiction, must not aspire to the honour of being among these benefactors ! They only tickle the ears , and agitate the dull intellects, of those who are out of the reach of good from literature; but who are open to its abuses and poisons. Books are now multiplied to engross the misap- plied energies, to confirm the errors , and to in- flame the passionate views, of the great mass of a people who want the leisure and independence, if not the abilities, to search deep, and judge coolly. Where pretended wisdom is in fashion, the unobtrusive voice of the real Sage is drowned in the clamours of noisy arrogance. There is however a delight in the pursuit of what it becomes us to know ; in the study of oup moral nature, and the tendencies of our affec- tions; of the employments which it is good to follow ; of the pleasures , which are innocent , GNOMICA. CH. III. II and the discipline which is necessary^ — In all these there is an intrinsic gratification , which iS its own reward. CHAPTER III. Poetry, 25 March i8a3. I cannot tell, how early I took up the passion for poetry. It could not have been later than my fourteenth year. I can hardly think it to have been accidental : I presume it to have owed its attraction to its coincidence with the warmth and colouring of my mind. I found a more cordial sympathy with the images and sentiments de- lineated in the pages , and expressed in the language, of poets, than of prose-writers. But long; before poets unfolded to me the beauties of na- ture, its scenery impressed itself poetically on my mind. Almost all my childish amusements were in the open air ; in the fields and woods : and the various aspects of morning, noon, and evening were connected with every favourite occupation. I had an eagerness and energy ill all my pleasures, which in infancy can scarcely be expected to be under the controul of reason : for , alas ! that eagerness and energy have been too little dis-^ ciplined and moderated even by age ! 12 GNOMICA. CH. III. t "When I began to pay attention to books, those of which the manner was most glowing, of course ynost attracted me. I looked for imagery and sen* timent ; not for cold methodical reasoning ; nor for those dry facts , or abstract precepts , that represented nothing of the emotion with which I mixed myself in every concern. That intensity of pleasure, with which the early senses are moved in those to whom nature has given great susceptibility, is the spring of poetry: r — but the gift is dangerous; for it requires the most skilful regulation; and constant and consr cientious controul, It is not till it mingles itself with the qperations of the understanding , and those moral affections which emanate from the heart , that it becomes beneficial or amiable to others ; or unbalanced by exhausture , regret , and disgust , even to self. — If reason will not make a poet , reason ?nust come in aid , to discriminate , methodise , and direct. Hut the exact and seasonable application of reason is so difficult , that it almost always begins too early or too late. He who calls the chill breath of reason to suppress the fire before it has got its enduring strength , will probably (Entirely extinguish it : he who summons it late, will not call in its aid , till the flame is unmanageable. The temperament of a Poet , however , even ^^vhen prudently and wisely managed , \s not thg GNOMIC A. CH. Ill, 13 temperament of happiness in this coarse world 2 though Sarasa (*) seems to think it may be made so. Our quick feeUngs , rendered more acute by refinement , are , even when under the controul of virtue , perpetually exposed to irresistible sor- rows and pains. An anxious conscience is never satisfied with itself. Possession never equals our hopes : and , if at any period we are contented with our own lot , we cannot see any of those around us unhappy without sympathy with their sufferings , or perhaps an afflicting suspicioi^ that we might have averted their misery. This sensitiveness belongs to all great poets : — r it has its source in the fountain whence Poetry flows. It is the grand feature of Dante and of Petrarch : it is the very essence of the golden veir^ of poetry of our own pathetic , moral , and inimi- table Gray. When Poetry is considered as a trifling art , '\X arises from viewing .it as it is exhibited in the compositions of versifiers , or witlings ; or of those who prostitute their gaudy genius to raise extravagant wonders. « Truth is » always , « siiffir cient to fill the mind , » even when it seeks to pxercise the highest flights of fancy. The business (*) See Sarasa, ^rs semper GaudencU, Jena, 1740^ A*' Also Wolff, Vhilosophia Moralis , 17^0, 1751, Halle ^^ 9 vols 4.° 1 4 GNOmCA.. CH. in. of genuine poetry is, not to represent the caprices of an individual imagination , but to embody the forms that visit more or less distinctly every sen- sitive and moral intellect. This , as every one knows , is Shakespeare'3 idea of poetry : and thus Gray says, first poets. » etc. — « / know not ^ whether it be y> pleasing to consider that he produced this piece » at twenty y and never afterwards excelled it: — «• » he that delights himself with observing that » such powers may be soon attained, cannot but » grieve to think that life was ever at a standi » (*) There are some classes of poetical composition^ to which we may suppose the fervour of youth best adapted : but a didactic poem on Criticism seemed of all others most to require mature knowlege , and long practice in nice and refined thinking. All the original results of the human mind , which display themselves in the higher depart- ments of literary composition , are , in truth ^ the fruits of complex powers, and complex exer- tions. We must not therefore decide one period of life to be more propitious to the production of particular works than another , because it is more propitious to the development of a single faculty. In youth hope is more glowing ; ambi- tion is more ardent; and toil is more vigorous^ (*) Life of Pope , ix. 357. GNOMICA, CH. VII, SiJ K-nowlege therefore goes farther ; imagination is more active ; and makes a better use of her stores; and eloquence effects what study and toil cannot reach. If Fancy were the mere result of a strong im^ pression on the material organs , it would surely be always more lively in youth. But it cannot be doubted that the intellect and the heart have some concern in this impression : and the intel^ lect continues to ripen at least till middle age, which also renders the emotions of the heart more mellow , if not more deep. Let the native understanding be as acute as it will, it can seldom collect all the materials ne- cessary for its operations without the lapse of a long course of years. The most valuable knowlege for works of genius , as well as for works of instruction, is moral knowlege. But without ex-* perience, without long, attentive, and matured observation of life , our moral knowlege mxi^X be faint , imperfect , and uncertain. These considerations fill me with a firm con-* viction, that even works of pure fancy, of the highest order, cannot be produced but by a con-n currence of endowments and acquirements, of which the union is extremely rare^ Every great poet, who has stood the test of ages , has had , in addition to a bright fancy and a powerful invention, a strong and com-? aS GXOMICA. CH. VII. manding reason, and an intuitive sagacity, im- proved enriched and controiiled by a long conr tinned and accurate observation of human hfe. Mere wild , wanton , undirected , unenhghtened imagination is unworthy the subhmer ambition of rational Beings. Yet if it be but imagination , however absurd , extravagant , and monstrous , modern taste and modern judgment seem resol- ^ ved to pronounce it true poetry, flowing from true genius. A high degree of uninformed, unregulated, fancy and imagination exists very strongly in madmen , and even in fools. In « those flights of imagination which pass the hounds of nature , » the great poet may well in- dulge : but they must have that sort of probabi- hty J of which the belief is consonant to the un- forced excursions of the human mind. The mighty genius in delights to sport in the wide regions of » possibility : reality is a scene too narrow for » him. )) But still it must be possibility , — or what is deemed possibility. It must be in the direction to which the general mind tends, though it may go farther than others: — it must not be in a bye-path, of which the whole novelty and interest lies in the deviation. It is a consciousness of weakness, a fear of inabihty to excell where others contend, that seduces into these bye-paths. What engages the GNOMICA. GH. VII. ag/ thoughts and feehngs of others, it requires supe-. rior strength to represent better than others. Novelty of objects has an attraction extraneous to the power of the painter. But the constant occupation in the pursuit of Truth, under its appearances of magnificence, tenderness , and beauty , requires the acutest talents , and sharpens and refines the noblest. Is it nothing to carry the lamp into the inmost recesses of the temple of the heart, and unveil their secrets to the curious eye ? Imagination supplies the light ; and identifying herself with thou ^ wisdom, or taste, is never heard amid these clamours; which are, (to use Burke's beautiful simile,) the noise of the grasshopper filling the air with its incessant chirps, while the Ox is chewing the cud in silence^ under the shade of the British oak. 48 GNOMICA. CH. XVIIIi All is calculated to exite transient attenfion on topics, on which the passions of the multitude are alive : — which topics are in a little while as much forgot, as if they had never been raised. — If we then turn back to them , the very- people , who for the moment were most heated by them , wonder most how they could ever have found any interest in them. This is an incon- trovertible proof, that all their claims to notice were factitious. — How very few of the Articles in the***, which at the moment of publication caught every reader, possess any longer the smallest zest! — If they had intrinsic value ; if they were written with sober and solid wisdom , this could hardly be the case. It is hence to be inferred , that there is nothing original , or nothing just , in \hefonde of them : and that all their claim to attention lay in the application of the matter to some ephe- meral topic. — They are seldom the originators of abstract truths ; of novelty in generalization ; of a new tint of the mind arrested , and cloathed in lan- guage ; of a new , striking , elegant , and just , form of words : i