COLLIGE.] This apology for poets, and, in them, for poetry itself, though delivered with much apparent negligence and unconcern, yet, if confidered, will be found to comprize in it every thing, that any, or all, of its most zealous advocates have ever pretended in its behalf. For it comprehends,

I. [Froin line 118 to 124,] THE PERSONAL GOOD QUALITIES OF THE POET. Nothing is more infifted on by thofe, who take upon themfelves the patronage and recommendation of any art, than that it tends to raise in the profeffor of it all thofe virtues, which contribute moft to his own proper enjoyment, and render him móft agreeable to others. Now this, it feems, may be urged, on the fide of poetry, with a peculiar force. For not only the study of this art hath a direct tendency to produce a neglect or difregard of worldly honours and emoluments (from the too eager appetite of which almost all the calamities, as well as the more unfriendly vices, of men arife) but he, whom the benign afpect of the mufe hath glanced upon, and deftined for her peculiar fervice, is, by conftitution, which is ever the beft fecurity, fortified against the attacks of them. Thus his RAPTURES in the enjoyment of his muse make him overlook the common accidents of life: [line 121] he is generous, open, and undefigning, by NATURE: [line 122] VOL. II.

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to which we must not forget to add, that he is temperate, that is to fay, poor, by PROFESSION.

VIVIT SILIQUIS ET PANE SECUNDO.

II. [From line 124 to 132.] THE UTILITY OF THE POET TO THE STATE: and this both on a civil and moral account. For, 1. the poets, whom we read in our younger years, and from whom we learn the power of words, and hidden harmony of numbers, that is, as a profound Scotchinan teaches, the first and most effential principles of eloquence [r], enable, by degrees, and inftruct their pupil to appear, with advantage, in that extenfively useful capacity of a public speaker. And, indeed, graver writers than our poet have fent the orator to this fchool. But the pretenfions of poetry go much farther. It delights [from line 130 to 132] to immortalize the triumphs of virtue: to record or feign illuftrious examples of heroic worth, for the service of the rifing age and, which is the last and beft fruit of philofophy itself, it can relieve even the languor of ill-health, and fuftain poverty herself under the fcorn and infult of contumelious opulence. 2. In a moral view its fervices are not lefs confiderable. (For it may be observed the poet was fo far of a mind with the philofopher,

[r] See an Effay on the Compofition of the Antients, by J. GEDDES, Efq;

to give no quarter to immoral poets). And to this end it ferves, 1. [line 127] in turning the ear of youth from that early corruptor of its innocence, the feducement of a loose and impure communication. 2. Next [line 128] in forming our tiper age (which it does with all the address and tenderness of friendship: AMICIS praeceptis) by the fanctity and wisdom of its precepts. And, 3. which is the proper office of tragedy, in correcting the exceffes of the natural paffions [line 122]. The reader who doth not turn himself to the original, will be apt to miftake this detail of the virtues of poetry, for an account of the policy and legiflation of ancient and modern times; whofe proudest boast, when the philanthropy of their enthufiaftic projectors ran at the higheft, was but to prevent the impressions of vice: to form the mind to habits of virtue: and to curb and regulate the paffions.

III. HIS SERVICES TO RELIGION. This might well enough be faid, whether by religion we understand an internal reverence of the gods, which poetry first and principally intended; or their popular adoration and worship, which, by its fictions, as of neceffity conforming to the received fancies of fuperftition, it must greatly tend to promote and establish. But the poet, artfully feizing a circumftance, which fuppofes and

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and includes in it both these respects, renders his defence vastly interefting.

All the customary addresses of heathenifin to its gods, more especially on any great and folemn emergency, were the work of the poet. For nature, it feems, had taught the pagan world, what the Hebrew prophets themselves did not difdain to practise, that, to lift the imagination, and, with it, the sluggish affections of human nature, to heaven, it was expedient to lay hold on every affistance of art. They therefore presented their fupplications to the divinity in the richest and brightest dress of eloquence, which is poetry. Not to infift, that devotion, when fincere and ardent, from its very nature, enkindles a glow of thought, which communicates ftrongly with the transports of poetry. Hence the language of the gods (for fo was poetry accounted, as well from its being the divineft fpecies of communication, our rude conceptions can well frame even for superior intelligencies, as for that it was the fittest vehicle of our applications to them) became not the ornament only, but an effential in the ceremonial, of paganisin. And this, together with an allufion to a form of public prayer (for fuch was his fecular ode) composed by himself, gives, at once, a grace and fublimity to this part of the apology, which are perfectly inimitable.

Thus

Thus hath the great poet, in the compass of a few lines, drawn together a complete defence of his art. For what more could the warmest admirer of poetry, or, because zeal is quickened by oppofition, what more could the vehement declaimer againft Plato (who proscribed it), urge in its behalf, than that it furnishes, to the poet himself, the fureft means of folitary and focial enjoyment: and further ferves to the most important CIVIL, MORAL, and RELIGIOUS purposes?

119. VATIS AVARUS NON TEMERE EST ANIMUS.] There is an unlucky Italian proverb, which fays, Chi ben ferive, non fara mai ricco. The true reafon, without doubt, is here given by the poet.

124. MILITIAE QUAMQUAM PIGER ET MALUS.] The observation has much grace, as referring to himself, who had acquired no credit, as a foldier, in the civil wars of his country. We have an example of this mifalliance between the poetic and military character, recorded in the hiftory of our own civil wars, which may be just worth mentioning. Sir P. Warwick, fpeaking of the famous Earl of Newcastle, observes-" his edge had too much of the razor in it; for he had a tincture of a