THE duty of a critic is not merely to praise; for though he who delights rather in exposing blemishes than in discovering beauties, must be wanting both in charity and in taste, yet indiscriminate applause is not only worthless but censurable,, as it tends to confound the distinctions of right and wrong, and to procure for the one a portion of that respect which exclusively belongs to the other. Impressed with this opinion, even Addison, the great panegyrist of Milton, devoted several papers to the consideration of the defects in Paradise Lost; and after him, Johnson, I think, accumulated his objections to that poem, into an essay in either one or the other of his two periodicals. Thus authorised, I feel no hesitation in addressing to the readers of the European Magazine a few critical remarks on a poem, which has long and deservedly been esteemed as among the noblest of English lyrics, and which the learned Dr. Langhorne, himself an elegant poet, has ventured to call even the very best ode in our language. I allude to "The Passions," by Collins; and, as to its general character, I see no reason for dissenting from the opinion his great encomiast has given in the following words: "Other pieces of the same nature have derived their greatest reputation from the perfection of the music that accompanied them; but in this we have the whole soul and power of poetry,-expression that, even without the aid of music, strikes to the heart; and imagery, of power enough to transport the attention, without the forceful alliance of corresponding sounds." From the censure implied in the first part of this extract, must be excepted Dryden's two odes on Music, and also Pope's rival one;-Gray's Bard, too, had ap-. peared when Langhorne wrote the above. But, without staying to compare these four beautiful compositions with the master-piece of Collins, I will proceed at once to point out wherein it is that this, however noble a production, is tinged with the imperfection that sullies the brightest of human works.

The introduction of madness, as ⚫ ruling the hour," when the passions

were merely exercising their musical skill, appears too serious an incident, when we consider that at least half of the emotions which the bard afterwards personifies, are of a pleasurable nature. Besides, too, the impersonation of madness, by making him “ rule” the hour, although he is never again mentioned, has a confusing effect, and takes from the prominence of those characters which really are essential objects in the picture. I cannot help noticing here,-though merely to commend, which, as I have said, is not my present purpose,the poet's ingenious and very successful use of the phrase, "by fits and starts," which common-nay-vulgar as it is, wears a most dignified and expressive aspect in the iine—

""Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild."

And, at the same time-(how much pleasanter it is to praise than to blame!)-let ne observe what occurs to me as being a metrical manœuvre, which is quite unique, highly elegant, and yet hitherto unperceived by the eye of criticism. It is the suspension of a rhyme over eight verses in the inimitable passage on Hope, beginning "But thou, O Hope! with eyes so fair." and keeping the ear in anxious but agreeable expectation of the corresponding final sound, even to the close of the description. Had the circumstance occurred in any composition of our older lyrists, it would have been but in conformity with their general and ungraceful practice of leaving so long an interval between rhymes; but in the whole of Collins's Ode no similar irregularity occurs to an equal extent; and, therefore, the happy effect of it may, and ought, to

be attributed to the author's intention.

In representing Hope as prolonging the strain, and calling on Echo, he has hardly distinguished her from Memory, whom we can imagine doing the same, and with a propriety more peculiarly her own.

From the line

"Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe,"

it may be suspected that Collins thought (as Johnson laid to the

charge of Gray), that whatever was the most remote from common use was the most poetical; for there seems no sufficient reason for that quaint and monotonizing inversion of the two first words,

"Ne'er were prophetic sounds so full of woe,"

would have been a much more spirited line, and quite a relief from the wearing sameness of the metre adja

cent.

There is a strange complication of logical error in the line

"Of differing themes the veering song was mix'd."

or

To veer is to turn about, to change; and to be mixed is to be composed; so that the changing song is said to be composed of differing themes. Strictly speaking, a song is composed not of its theme, but on it; and differing (instead of different) implies a sort of prosopopoia, though this can hardly exist in a part, the whole of which is not personified. Then, how does the song change, or reer? From one theme to another. And yet the song is intrinsically composed mixed up, of them all! As it happens, the sense is sufficiently intelligible,unless, indeed, we follow the metaphor; but the same inaccuracy would not be so trifling in every case where it might occur. Buskins are very unpoetical, as a word, however classical they may be as a part of dress. The sound reminds one of buckskins, and the very idea of their constituting any portion of "a nymph's" attire is not only disgusting, but quite alarming. And why must cheerfulness have a bow at her back? Is it essential to reserving the temperament so called, that we should mangle and murder those harmless tenants of the plain and forest, whose songs and gambols give the country its chief air of cheerfulness? Then, again, "Sport" is nothing without his beechen spear. And what is the sportive use of this said beechen spear? To be thrust into the bleeding entrails of such illfated dumb animals, as Heaven has taken the liberty of enduing with bodily strength superior to that of the "lords of the creation,"-the creation of which these lords are themselves a part. I have supposed that manly sport is looked for only in the perilous kinds of hunting; if the spear

were to pierce the vitals of the timid and" dappled foresters" that Jacques pitied, my animadversions on "Sport" would be more serious.

Joy's favourite instrument, "the brisk awakening viol," is said to have an entrancing voice. This is something of a bull. Soon following, is an awkward instance of the impropriety there is in shifting the second person, during the progress of a single sentence, from the singular number to the plural, and thence back again. "Why, Music! why to us deny'd? Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre aside? As in that loved Athenian bower, You learned an all-commanding power, Thy mimic soul, O nymph endear'd! Can well recal what then it beard."

Music, perhaps, can hardly be too chromatic; but grammar admits of little modulation. You and thy in two successive lines,-non di, non homines.

"Arise, as in that elder time,
Warm, energic, chaste, sublime."

Another syllable introduced into that word energie would make the metre much more energetic, and the "diction" as much less affected. Moreover, it may be observed here, that the whole of the concluding apostrophe to music is a lamentable falling off from the preceding parts of the ode. The ideas are feeble, the language cramped, and the versification monotonous. The very last line but two

"Revive the just designs of Greece." has a doubly broken metaphor, not a Iwhit less defective than that which I have before analysed. Let the words be turned into Latin, and the confusion of sense will be more obvious than it is even at present. On the whole, however, this ode amply merits the encomiums with which it has been honoured; for, as yet, no officious "lover of poetry," or " constant reader," has had the folly to single out its faults for commendation. Were the amiable author alive-poor Collins-very likely the above strictures would not have been made; but they now can wound no individual's private feelings, and they may, perhaps, be not unserviceable to the cause of poetic taste. It is a pity that no man of first-rate abilities bas given the public a critical and minute

dissertation upon the anomalies which unhappily exist in the best of our standard poetry-in those pieces which are given us in our earliest youth as models in their particular style of composition; so that the rising generation of poets might derive every be

nefit from the works of their predecessors, and yet avoid those mproprieties in them which no authority can sanction, and which nothing but a most radical corruption of the public taste can ever bring into esteem.

an

DEAR SIR, THOUGH you have promised that the forthcoming number shall be enriched with some comments of your own upon the subject of this letter, yet, as it appears to me little likely that we shall both view the matter in exactly the same light, and as attack upon the character of a most celebrated and highly esteemed author, cannot, if unjust, be repelled from too many quarters, nor, if otherwise, be too generally assisted, I have no hesitation in submitting to you and your readers my opinion of the article that you last month published, under the title of," Reflections upon the Moral and Biographical Writings of Dr. Johnson."

One who sits down to answer a series of outrageous invectives, will find his task to be attended with many peculiar difficulties and facilities. As to the latter, he will immediately perceive, that the violence of his antagonist's fury has made him often strike wide of the mark, and not unfrequently crush the weapon itself with his blow." Paper bullets of the brain," will, if hurled with too great velocity, fly in pieces, like clay balls from a sling. But, notwithstanding that unreasonable abuse is so easily combatted, and that the wise are so readily brought to reprobate it, even supposing them not to have done so in the first instance-yet, those unthinking persons, upon whom mere assertion would have its greatest effect, are not speedily convinced of the error into which they have fallen: either from blindness or from vanity, they will not see, or will not confess, that they have been "bamboozled

and bit." But to whom, if not to readers of this weak-minded class, ought the defence now undertaken be addressed? One would not deem it necessary for the guidance of any intelligent and accomplished scholar, to a knowledge of Dr. Johnson's true merit! "The colossus of English literature," as he properly has been called, over-strides the whole civilized world; and the proudest spirits that have come after him, have thought it an honour to "walk under his huge legs," and learn from him to lay themselves in honourable graves. But let me not assume a tone too haughty-too flatteringly similar to that of the good doctor's intemperate vilifier. From all, then, learned or unlearned, who love truth and respect the immortal dead, I alike solicit a short attention.

The author of the Reflections, professes, near the opening of them, “ to dismiss, as beyond his purpose, the style of Dr. Johnson, as a writer," and then continues the same paragraph to the extent of a whole column, without touching on any subject save the very one he has abjured! And what is it he says? Among other "Balaam," this: viz. that "persons of heavy imaginations, and of no fecility of thought-men whose minds are not nicely discriminative— are generally found to be the admirers and the imitators of the Johnsonian periods;" and that these heavy, dull, and indiscriminative persons, " regret through life that they could not acquire the author's valuable matter, but at the expense of his ponderous turgidity." What is meant here by the phrase "acquiring the author's

matter," is rather doubtful, especially when the acquisition is said to be "at the expense" of his turgidity: but whether we interpret it that the said heavy, and infelicitous, and indiscriminative persons are capable of profiting by the doctor's writings, or that they are capable of rendering their own as profitable as his; or whether it be that the turgidity expended is an annoyance to them as readers, or that it is so to the readers of their imitative writings, the hypothesis of our reflector is, either way, self-contradictory; for a heavy, infelicitous, and indiscriminative person, must, from his nature, be unable to make use of valuable matter, either in studying or in composing; and one who has the good sense, the felicitous taste, and the critical discrimination, to see the defects of a certain style, and to regret having imbibed them, cannot very well be heavy, &c. &c.; or, on the other hand, writings which have the power of infusing those good qualities into intellects of that ordinary description, must either have very little imperfectness of style, or must be impregnated with so much of substantial merit, as to make the consideration of their style nugatory and invidious.

But the attack is made principally on the morality of the good doctor, and yet, strange to say, the only work of his which pretends to an ethical purpose, is not so much as alluded to, far less mentioned or quoted. To read the reflections on Dr. Johnson, one would think that the inditer of them was not aware that any book, such as THE RAMBLER, was in existence, or had ever been so. What can have induced him to venture on so unauthorized an assertion, as that Johnson's greatest and most useful work, is his Biography of the Poets, I am utterly at a loss to conceive; unless I conclude, that the assertor is himself one " of the tuneful craft;" and that, consequently, he esteems the Muses more than the Virtues, having never aimed at ingratiating himself with the latter, and being, therefore, unblest and unendowed by them. Poetry, spoken of abstractedly, may properly be held as an art of mere amusement. Instruction or information is not the object which it proposes to itself. And the insight, consequently,

which it affords, is not so transcendant as alone to give life its quantum of happiness, although too frequently it unfits us for well appreciating any other higher species of pleasure than what itself alone has to bestow. The science of ethics has a far more liberal and noble end-a more extensive, though more determinate object. It aims directly at the promotion of human happiness, through the medium of moral amelioration. And yet this railer at immorality, thinks the history of some dozen or more lazy rhymesters, is a work of more importance, than what is, perhaps, the very finest collection of virtuous precepts, and of moral arguments, that ever was made by one single hand. It is true, that there is much in the manner of treating a subject. It is equally true, that Johnson's Lives of the Poets contain a world of invaluable observations upon human conduct. But these are no more than incidental accidental, and, if they form any striking feature of the work, it is a spontaneous and gratuitous benefaction of the author's. It was not demanded or expected from him, by the booksellers who set before him his topic; and had all these "invaluable observations," as the reflector, perforce, must own they are, been struck out of the book, the purpose of its publication (as developed in the title-page) would be fully as well answered as it is now. The Rambler proposed to itself an effect quite different from that of a mere poetical biography." It has been my principal design," says the author," to inculcate wisdom or piety;" and he concludes with the following explicit declaration of what he hoped from his periodical labours. " I shall never envy the honours which wit and learning obtain in any other cause, if I can be numbered among the writers who have given ardour to virtue, and confidence to truth." And yet a work of these lofty pretensions, -pretensions which the public judg ment confesses to have been amply sustained, is absolutely unnoticed by one who dares to call in question the purity and propriety of its author's moral lucubrations! But where censure is determined on, "the lie by omission" seldom sticks in the throat of the critic's conscience; and it would be well if no falsehood of a

more positive kind ever disgraced his peevish page.

Our Zoilus begins his snarling with four columns of assertions, which, with a candour too constrained to be virtuous, he confesses, “are very general;" and he proceeds to acknowledge, that they" appeal rather to the experience and consciousness of our (his) readers, than to any proof we (he) has given of their truth." He therefore proposes to address himself to "facts." Let us examine these facts, which, by the bye, are not presented until another discharge of venom has taken place.

The first charge against Johnson is, that he terminates the life of Hughes, as a poet, by telling us that Hughes was not a poet. Now if he really had said so of any one whose works were included in the edition of the poets, which he was illustrating with memoirs, there would have still been no inconsistency in the censure, for it was the booksellers, and not the biographer that selected the poetry which was to form their collection, and he was instructed merely to write a life of each author, whether worthy or not of being classed among our standard English bards. And few, it is to be feared, are they who would have ventured upon the same freedom of criticism, as did Johnson; few who would not rather have made themselves and their opinions subservient to the sordid views of their employers, and have pronounced on the merits of each writer's compositions, no decision but such as might recommend them to a purchaser. Thus, the asperity of Dr. Johnson's remarks upon many of our "wooden spoons of verse," is to be looked on as evincing an upright liberty of soul that scorned stooping to bestow unmerited praise, even although by doing so his interest, (which, of course, was involved in that of his employers,) would have been ever so materially advanced. But with respect to his having stated Hughes to be no poet, the reflector has strangely distorted the truth. In the whole biography alluded to, which would hardly fill four pages of this periodical, and which therefore any idler may take the trouble of reperusing, there is nothing which affords the least reason to suppose that the biographer thought meanly

of his subject. On the contrary, he most decidedly acquiesces in the determination of the public as to the chief work of Hughes, his Siege of Damascus; and he is even at the pains of accounting for a certain degree of impropriety which exists in the plot, in its present conduct, by apprising us that the piece had been altered at the request of the players, and that the cowardly and selfish apostacy of Phocyas, which, in the play as originally written, made his misery seem just, and also justified Endocia's renouncement of him, had at their suggestion, and as the only means of procuring a representation of the piece, thus exchanged for the lighter guilt of his desertion to the enemy, making the punishment, which remains unaltered, appear wholly disproportionate to the offence. The passage which has misled the author of the "Reflections," or which has been used by him as an instrument to mislead others, is a mere transcript from the correspondence of Swift and Pope, the former of whom calls Hughes a mediocrist, and the latter concedes in the saying. With respect to Johnson's own estimate of Hughes's merit, the remark upon his "Discourse on Allegorical Poetry," gives every needful information. The Doctor scruples not to avow that he thinks the author (Hughes) was "well qualified for the work." What more need be said of his poetical character? But it is time to enquire into the very heaviest of our all Reflector's matter-of-fact accusations. He loudly declaims against what he is pleased to call "the monstrous brutality" of what we shall here extract. "After which," (the apostacy of Phocyas, in the Siege of Damascus) "the abhorence of Endocia would have been reasonable, his misery would have been just, and the horrors of his repentance exemplary." Truly, this does appear too rigidly orthodox. But mark how little trust-worthy are appearances. At the time of Dr. Johnson's making the observation above quoted, the play in question was highly popular, and its incidents and sentiments were quite familiar to the public. This being the case, it was not then requisite to enter minutely into a detail of the circumstances of this drama, nor for enabling a reader to comprehend the force of