figures. But with the poet, temperance and prudence are not allegorical beings, but simply personified abstracts. It was necessity that invented the symbols employed by the artist in depicting these beings; for he had no other means of rendering their signification obvious. But the influence of this necessity is unknown to the poet, and it would therefore be absurd in him to adopt, without the smallest pretext, the artifice to which the painter is compelled to

resort.

The very course at which Spence expresses his surprise deserves to be recommended as a rule of conduct to the poet. He must beware of converting the indigence of the painter into a source of riches to himself. The means which art has discovered for embodying the thoughts of poetry, ought not to be regarded by him as beauties of which he has any reason to be jealous. In decorating a figure with symbols, the artist elevates it to a higher state of existence; but, when the poet employs these pictorial garnishings, he degrades a superior being to the level of a puppet.

While this rule is carefully observed in the practice of the ancients, its wilful transgression is, on the contrary, a favorite vice of the modern poets. All their imaginative beings appear en masque, and those who show the greatest ingenuity in these masquerades, are generally least acquainted with what should be their legitimate aim,—namely, to make the creatures of their fancy act, and to characterize them by their actions.

It must be observed, however, that among the attributes which the artist employs to designate his abstract personifications, there are some of a kind more worthy of the poet, and better suited to his use. I allude to those which have properly nothing of an allegorical nature about them, but are to be considered in the light of implements, of which the beings they accompany would or could with propriety make use, if they were to act as real persons. The bridle in the hand of Temperance, the column on which Prudence leans, are purely allegorical, and therefore useless to the poet. The balance in the hand of Justice is still more unfit for his purpose, as the

proper use of the balance is in itself a part of justice. But the lyre or the flute in the hand of a Muse, the lance in the hand of Mars, the hammer and pincers in the hands of Vulcan, are by no means symbols, but simply instruments, without which these beings could not perform the actions which we attribute to them. Of this kind, too, are the attributes which the ancient poets occasionally interweave with their descriptions, and which might, therefore, in contradistinction to those which are allegorical, be termed poetic. The latter denote the object itself; the former only something which resembles it.*

* See Note 33, end of volume.

ELEVENTH SECTION.

Similar Mistake of the Comte de Caylus.-Invention the pre-eminent Merit of the Poet—Execution that of the Artist.

On

THE Comte de Caylus also seems to desire that the poet should embellish with allegorical attributes the beings created by his fancy.* this point I shall only observe that the Count is a better judge of painting than of poetry. But, in the same work in which this wish is expressed, I have found matter for more important reflections, and I shall here proceed to notice those observations which have most particularly struck

me.

The Count recommends the artist to make himself thoroughly acquainted with Homer, that

* See Note 34, end of volume.

greatest of all pictorial poets,—that faithful follower of nature. He directs his attention to the rich, and still unemployed, store of materials for admirable pictures contained in the story treated by the Greek poet, and assures him that his execution of them will be the more perfect, in proportion to his intimacy with the minutest details of the poet's description. The effect of the system here recommended would be to unite the two kinds of imitation which I have already distinguished from each other. The painter would not only have to imitate that which the poet had imitated before him, but he would also require to do so with the identical lineaments which the other had employed. He would require to make use of his prototype, not only in his character of narrator, but in that of Poet likewise.

But how does it happen that this second kind of imitation which is so derogatory to the poet, is not equally so to the artist? If such a series of pictures as that which the Comte de Caylus gives from Homer, had been in existence before the poet wrote, and if we knew that he had