[1800.] gay bald, with still more refinement, supposed, "to shew how objects derived their colours from the mind, by representing the operation of the same things upon the and the melancholy temper, or upon the same man as he is differently disposed"but rather to illustrate, how, among the successive variety of appearances, every disposition of mind takes hold on those by which it may be gratified". To me, the Poet's aim appears simply, to exhibit a succession of such appearances as are best adapted to interest and cherish a cheerful or pensive disposition. But however this may be, his conduct, in the pursuit of what must be regarded as his leading object, under any supposition, is clear and admirable. He personates, in turn, both characters; and conducts himself through a series of scenes and images congenial to each. These scenes and images are not promiscuously thrown together: they are exhibited in the order in which they naturally occur-in the succession in which they might actually have been witnessed and enjoyed; and thus essentially contribute to the vivacity and dramatic effect of the piece. In the Penseroso, the scene commences in the evening, and is pursued through the next day in the Allegro, it opens in the morning, "✶✶✶ the lark begins his flight, when first "And singing startles the dull night"; and is continued, through periods marked by the most characteristic imagery, true to nature and exquisitely touched, "Till the live-long day-light fails": But the recreations of a country life are not yet exhausted: the spicy, nut-brown ale is introduced; and the rustic beverage is accompanied with appropriate tales of village superstition, till the hour of rest (an early hour) arrives, the whispering winds lull all to slumber, and universal stillness closes up the evening. Then-at this pause-if Warton's interpretation be received, the Poet shifts the scene; and from the sequestered hamlet, hushed in silence and repose, transports us suddenly, and by an unexpected and awakening contrast, into the midst of luxurious cities, now revelling in the height of their festivities; where he mingles with whatever is most crowded, and brilliant, and exhilirating-the sumptuous feast, the gorgeous pageant, the splendid drama, and the inspiring concert. A transition more truly animating and delightful, never was conceived: it has the same effect, as when, in some entrancing Symphony, after a Minor-movement gradually softened by a lentando and diminuendo to a close that dies away upon the ear, the whole force of the orchestra abruptly breaks forth in the original key and to brisk measure. The transition it not only exquisite in itself, but its introduction is infinitely happy. It possesses perfectly both the re quisites of that "curiosa felicitas" which constitutes the fondest wish of the aspirer to elegance of composition;-it has all the ease which seems the gift of fortune, with [1800.] all the justness which forms the triumph of art. After having chased the delights of the country through the day, the Poet is naturally led to resort in the evening to cities; and cities, at this juncture, readily furnish those glittering spectacles which contrast so admirably with the tranquil pleasures of the day. Destroy this continuity-suppose a total break in the scene-conceive that the Poet, after having left us to slumber through the night, goes over again the next day, in the town, the same circuit which he had, the evening before, completed in the country, and-I will not say that the spirit of the piece is gone-but I am sure it is miserably impaired. Every reader of taste, must forcibly feel the difference: he will abandon, if he be compelled to abandon, the illusion arising from the obvious interpretation of the contested passage, with sincere regret and will be tempted to exclaim, with the enthusiast in Horace, to the sturdy disciplinarians who should compel him to such a measure ** **** Pol, me occidistis amici, Non servâstis, ait; cui sic extorta voluptas, Et demptus, per vim, mentis gratissimus error. L. 2, Epis. 2, v. 138, &c, |