A Journey to Palmyra, or Tadmor in the Desert; with a short 1 THE LITERARY JOURNAL. ORIGINAL PAPERS. LECTURES ON POETRY, THE SUBSTANCE OF WHICH WAS DELIVERED AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION. BY T. CAMPBELL. LECTURE I. I PROPOSE, in the greater portion of the following Lectures, to treat of poetry rather abstractedly than historically. But as on entering on every subject there is an obvious advantage in taking a preliminary view of its nature at large, I shall devote this first lecture to some general remarks on poetical composition. I shall first of all endeavour to discriminate it from some other pursuits of the human mind, in which the intellect and the imagination are both concerned, and shall then subjoin some thoughts on the reciprocal influence with which it affects and is affected by the moral culture of society. If I should be far from giving my observations that comprehensiveness and method which ought to belong to a full and regular treatise on poetry, I must beg allowance to be made for my object being much more limited than to compose such a work. The philosophy of the poet's art is a vast field of inquiry, over the entire extent of which I make no pretensions to expatiate. My attempt shall only be to investigate some of its prominent and most interesting points. Few sayings respecting poetry have been more frequently felt or repeated than the words of Lord Bacon-" that it accommodates the shews of things to the desires of the mind." It has not been always observed that the noble author uses this expression when considering poetry only as "imaginary history."* From his "Poetry," says Lord Bacon, "is a kind of learning generally confined to the measure of words, but otherwise extremely licentious, and truly belonging to the imagination, which, being unrestrained by laws, may make what unnatural mixtures and separations it pleases. It is taken in two senses, or with respect to words and matter. The first is but a character of style, and a certain form of speech not relating to the subject; for a true narration may be delivered in verse, and a feigned one in prose ;-but the second is a capital part of learning and no other than feigned History. And here, as in our decisions we endeavour to find and trace the true sources of learning, and this frequently with, VOL. I. No. 1. Jan. 1821. B having previously said that "he should take no particular notice of Satire, Elegy, Epigram, Ode, &c. but should hand them over to philosophy and the arts of speech," I suspect that his Lordship applied his memorable words to feigned history alonebut, to my humble apprehension, they will bear an universal application to poetry. For I can suppose no instance in which an affecting poem taken as a whole, does not accommodate the appearances of nature to our wishes. The accommodation indeed is most palpably made in fiction; it is nevertheless also effected, although more subtly, in the poetical representation of truth. Delightful as nature is to us, yet a literal and facsimile transcript of her accidental appearances will not constitute poetry. Those circumstances, even of true objects, must alone be chosen and combined, which excite the warmth and light of agreeable passions and associations. When the poet, out giving way to custom, or the established order, we shall take no particular notice of satire, elegy, ode, &c. but turn them over to philosophy and the arts of speech, and, under the name of Poetry, treat nothing more than Imaginary History." I beg pardon if I mistake the meaning of so great an authority; but it would seem to me to be a natural inference from the proposed turning over of certain classes of composition to philosophy, that the poet in those classes is to be judged of by the same canons of criticism with the philosopher. If the transference be not for this purpose, I am at a loss to see what other end it can answer; and, to my humble apprehension, there is not in this distinction, at least thus briefly as it is worded, that irresistible clearness which so usually attends Lord Bacon's decisions. Supposing the poet and the philosopher both to endite truth, will they not treat it in a different manner, and ought they not therefore to be judged of by different laws? The philosopher exhibits all the circumstances of truth so investigated and analysed as to calm and counteract our passions: The poet selects and combines only those circumstances which excite them, and which connect emotion with intellectual perception. Poetry accommodates the shows of things to the mind's desires: Philosophy has in view to make the mind accommodate its desires to the realities of things. The classes of poetry, thus discriminated from imaginary history, and left to be turned over to philosophy and the arts of speech, are satire, elegy, epigram, ode, &c. The arts of speech is a vague expression; I shall therefore only speak of the consignment as it regards philosophy. The light host of epigrams may take their place where they please; and so may satires, though they are at best but a one-sided sort of philosophy-But the lyrical ode may be highly fanciful, and it is difficult to see any thing in its transports peculiarly fit to be tried by a jury of philosophers. Didactic poetry has the most apparent connexion with philosophy; but the connexion is always forced, and generally unfavourable. It is the most unteaching of all things, and, in reality, is not judged of by its power of instruction: otherwise, the Georgics of Virgil might be submitted to the Board of Agriculture. There is unquestionably philosophy in poetry-in spirit, not in demonstrative form; but that spirit, I apprehend, is not locked up in any distinct compartment of the art, and least of all in those where the poet affects to be most philosophical. Nor can I see why classes of poetry different from imaginary history, are more to be referred to philosophy than imaginary history itself. There is surely more knowledge of man diffused over the Iliad and Odyssey, not to speak of dramatic poetry, than over all the soberest didactic verses, and shrewdest satires, and most contemplative elegies, that were ever written. therefore, exhibits the credibilities of existence without the aid of invented characters or of fable, he still selects and concentrates only those traits of truth which attach our sensibility, and he rejects others that would disturb the harmony of his picture, or repel our sympathy. This makes Truth herself appear more beautiful in the Muses' mirror than in her casual reality. I am far from saying, that fiction is of slight utility to poetry: I only mean, that the true circumstances of nature, when exquisitely chosen and combined, will constitute that high beauty of art which we call the ideal, without the necessary intervention of fiction. Nor do I mean that language can produce this effect, unless it also possess the power of exciting fanciful associations. The passions that give life to poetry are indissolubly connected with the liveliness of the associating faculty. No doubt, the language of real passion is not, in general, prone to remote and surprising combinations of thought. The wit of the fancy is a doubtful indication of passion. Nevertheless, when we read a strain of deep feeling, we naturally imagine it to come from a mind of rich associations, and it excites a reverie of luxuriant images in our own. But remote fancies, whether they are congenial or not with the language of passion, may have their place in the poet's survey of existence, and yet may be far from amounting to fiction, in the fair and general sense of the word. It is only in that acceptation, namely, the feigning of events and characters, that I deny fiction to be perpetually and essentially necessary to the poet. If all the imagery of language is to be so called, prose itself will be found to teem with fiction. But, however necessary fanciful associations may be to Poetry, she may portray the realities of Nature without absolute fiction, so as to touch the inmost recesses of our sympathy. The famous Love Ode of Sappho, for instance, affects us by the simple vehemence of its passion-and yet it is not fiction. If it were asked, how such a poem can be said "to accommodate the shews of things to the desires of the mind," I should answer, that it conveys the conception of amatory transport as completely by selecting and concentrating the traits of truth, as if the finest artists had embodied it to the eye with ideal beauty. It is all nature, but it is perfect nature-there is no part of the outline weak, though it seems as if every one could trace it. And yet, though every one feels the passion, it has been seldom so well described in the course of two thousand years. The spirited selection and concentration of truth is one means, and fiction is another, by which the poet maintains his empire. The one founds it, and the other extends it. If truth can thus be found, of itself, to constitute the soul of entire and inspired poetical effusions, fiction cannot well be denominated the soul of poetry; and I should rather be inclined to call it her highest |