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mer observation. Their attempts were always analy, tick; they broke every image into fragments; and could no more represent, by their sender conceits and Jaboured particularities, the prospects of nature, or the scenes of life, than he, who diffects a fun-beam with à prism, can exhibit the wide çffulgence of a summer

noon.

What they wanted however of the sublime, they endeavoured to supply by hyperbole; their amplification had no limits; they left not only reason but fancy bohind them; and produced combinations of confused mag, nificence, that not only could not be credited, but could pot be imagined

Yet great labour, directed by great abilities, is never wholly loft: if they frequently threw away their wit upon false conceits, they likewise sometimes struck out unexpected truth: if their conceits were far-fetched, they were often worth the carriage. To write on their plan, it was at least neceffary to read and think. No man could be born a metaphysical poet, nor assume the dignity of a writer, by descriptions copied from deferiptions, by imitations borrowed from imitations, by traditional imagery, and hereditary fimilies, by readiness of rhyme, and volubility of syllables.

In perusing the works of this race of authors, the mind is exercised either by recollection or inquiry; either something already learned is to be retrieved, or something new is to be examined. If their greatness feldom elevates, their acuteness often surprises; if the imaginațion is not always gratified, at least the powers of reflecțion and comparison are employed; and in the mass of materials which ingenious absurdity has thrown together, genuine wit and useful knowledge may be sometimes found, buried perhaps in grosiness of expression,

but

but useful to those who know their value; and such as, when they are expanded to perspicuity, and polished to clegance, may give lustre to works which have more propriety though less copiousness of sentiment.

This kind of writing, which was, I believe, borrowed from Marino and his followers, had been recommended by the example of Donne, a man of a very extensive and various knowledge; and by Jonson, whose manner resembled that of Donne more in the ruggedness of his lines than in the cast of his sentiments,

When their reputation was high, they had undoubtedly more imitators, than time has left behind. Their immediate successors, of whom any remembrance can be said to remain, were Suckling, Waller, Denham, Cowley, Cleiveland, and Milton. Denham and Waller fought another way to fame, by improving the harmony of our numbers. Milton tried the metaphysick style only in his lines upon Hobson the Carrier. Cowley adopted it, and excelled his predecessors, having as much sentiment, and more musick. Suckling neither improved versification, nor abounded in conceits. The fashionable style remained chiefly with Cowley; Suckling could not reach it, and Milton disdained it.

poets they

CRITICAL REMARKS are not easily understood without examples; and I have therefore collected instances of the modes of writing by which this species of poets, for they were called by themselves and their admirers, was eminently distinguished.

A S the authors of this race were perhaps more desirous of being admired than understood, they sometimes drew their conceits from recefles of learning not

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very much frequented by common readers of poetry, Thus Cowley on Knowledge : The sacred tree midst the fair orchard grew;

The phenix Truth did on it reft,

And built his perfum'd neft,
That right Porphyrian tree which did true logic shew,
Each leaf did learned notions give,
And th' apples were demonftrative:

So clear their colour and divine,
The very shade they cast did other lights outshine.'.
On Anacreon continuing a lover in his old age;

Love was with thy life entwin'd,
Close as heat with fire is join'd,
A powerful brand prescrib’d the date.
Of thine, like Meleager's fate.
Th' antiperiftafis of age

More enflam'd thy amorous rage. In the following verses we have' an allusion to a Rab, binical opinion concerning Manna :

Variety I ask not: give me one
To live perpetually upon.
The person Love does to us fit,

Like manna, has the taste of all in it. Thus Donne shews his medicinal knowledge in some encomiastic verses ;

In every thing there naturally grows
A Balsamum to keep it fresh and new,

If 'twere not injur'd by extrinsique blows ;
Your youth and beauty are this balm in you.

But you, of learning and religion,
And virtue and such ingredients, have made

A mithridate, whose operation
Keeps off, or cures what can be done or said.

Though

Though the following lines of Donne, on the last night of the year, have something in them too scholastic, they are not inelegant :

This twilight of two years, not past nor next,

Some emblem is of me, or I of this,
Who, meteor-like, of stuff and form perplext,

Whose what and where in disputation is,

If I should call me any thing, should miss.
I fum the years and me, and find me not

Debtor to th' old, nor creditor to th' new,
That cannot say, my thanks I have forgot,

Nor trust I this with hopes ; and yet 1carce true
This bravery is, hnce these times shew'd me you.

DONNE, Yet more abstruse and profound is Donne's reflection upon

Man as a Microcosm:

If inen be worlds, there is in every one
Something to answer in some proportion
All the world's riches : and in good men, this
Virtue, our form's form, and our foul's soul is.

OF thoughts so far fetched, as to be not only un. expected, but unnatural, all their books are full.

To a Lady, who wrote poesies for rings.
They, who above do various circles find,
Say, like a ring th' æquator heaven does bind.
When heaven shall be adorn'd by thee,
(Which then more heaven than 'tis, will be)
'Tis thou must write the pocsy there,
For it wanteth one as yet,
Then the sun pass through't twice a ycar,
The sun, which is esteein'd the god of wit.

Cowley,

The

The difficulties which have been raised about identity in philosophy, are by Cowley with ftill more perplexity applied to Love :

Five years ago (says story) I lov'd you,
For which you call me moft inconstant now;
Pardon me, madam, you miftake the man;
For I am not the same that I was then ;
No flesh is now the same 'twas then in me,
And that my mind is chang'd yourself may fee,
The same thoughts to retain ftill, and intents,
Were more inconftant far; for accidents
Must of all things moft ftrangely inconstant proven
If from one subject they t another move :
My members then, the father members were
From whence these take their birth, which now are

here.
If then this body love what th' other did,

'Twere incest, which by nature is forbid. The love of different women is, in geographical poçtry, compared to travels through different countries :

Hast thou not found, each woman's breast

(The land where thou haft travelled) Either by favages poffeft,

Or wild, and uninhabited ?

What joy could'st take, or what repose.
In countries so uncivilis'd as those ?
Luft, the fcorching dog-star, here

Rages with immoderate heat ;
Whilft Pride, the rugged Northern Bear,

In others makes the cold too great.
And where these are temperate known,
The soil's all barren fand, or rocky stone.

Cowley.
A lover, burnt up by his affection, is compared to
Egypt :

The

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