but takes the whole upon himself, and sets his images in so clear a light that it is impossible to be blind to them. The works of Milton cannot be comprehended or enjoyed, unless the mind of the reader co-operate with that of the writer. He does not paint a finished picture or play for a mere passive listener. He sketches, and leaves others to fill up the outline. He strikes the keynote, and expects his hearer to make out the melody. 22. We often hear of the magical influence of poetry. The expression in general means nothing, but, applied to the writings of Milton, it is most appropriate. His poetry acts like an incantation. Its merit lies less in its obvious meaning than in its occult1 power. There would seem, at first sight, to be no more in his words than in other words. But they are words of enchantment. No sooner are they pronounced, than the past is present, and the distant near. New forms of beauty start at once into existence, and all the burial-places of the memory give up their dead. Change the structure of the sentence; substitute one synonym for another, and the whole effect is destroyed. The spell loses its power; and he who should then hope to conjure with it, would find himself as much mistaken as Cassim in the Arabian tale, when he stood crying: Open Wheat," "Open Barley," to the door which obeyed no sound but "Open Sesame!" The miserable failure of Dryden, in his attempt to rewrite some parts of the Paradise Lost, is a remarkable instance of this. 66 §§ 20-25. Third topic: Some striking characteristics of Milton's poetic methods. A description of the effect produced by the peculiar suggestiveness of the words he uses. Examples, L' Allegro, and Il Penseroso. 1 Occult, concealed, "where more is meant than meets the ear." ? In old versions of the Arabian Nights was included a famous Turkish tale, "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves." "Sesame" is a kind of grain. 3 John Dryden (1631-1700), the great poet of the next generation in England. He composed an opera called The State of Innocence, 23. In support of these observations, we may remark that scarcely any passages in the poems of Milton are more generally known, or more frequently repeated, than those which are little more than muster-rolls of names.1 They are not always more appropriate or more melodious than other names. But they are charmed names. Every one of them is the first link in a long chain of associated ideas. Like the dwelling-place of our infancy revisited in manhood, like the song of our country heard in a strange land, they produce upon us an effect wholly independent of their intrinsic value. One transports us back to a remote period of history. Another places us among the novel scenes and manners of a distant country. A third evokes all the dear classical recollections of childhood, the school-room, the dog-eared Virgil, the holiday, and the prize. A fourth brings before us the splendid phantoms of chivalrous romance, the trophied lists, the embroidered housings, the quaint devices, the haunted forests, the enchanted gardens, the achievements of enamoured knights, and the smiles of rescued princesses. 2 3 of which the libretto was manufactured out of Paradise Lost. Here are some verses: "If thou art he, but O, how changed from him, Myself too well, and my own change in thee." was a Milton is said to have given Dryden leave to do this work, saying, good-naturedly, "Ay, ay, you may tag my verses. A "tag silver ornament worn on the ends of ribbons in those days for show. Milton's allusion is to the tinkling rhymes on the ends of Dryden's verses. Specimens of these "muster-rolls of names are found in Paradise Lost, I., 580-585; II., 525–545; IV., 276-282; and elsewhere. 2 Lists, the space enclosed by the ropes or barriers at a tournament. Trophied, adorned with trophies, the spoils taken from conquered ene 1 mies. 3 Housings, the trappings of the horses, especially cloths or covers, more or less ornamental, laid over the saddle. 24. In none of the works of Milton is his peculiar manner more happily displayed than in the Allegro and the Penseroso. It is impossible to conceive that the mechanism of language can be brought to a more exquisite degree of perfection. These poems differ from others as atar1 of roses differs from ordinary rose water, the close packed essence from the thin diluted mixture. They are, indeed, not so much poems as collections of hints, from each of which the reader is to make out a poem for himself. Every epithet is a text for a stanza.2 25. The Comus and the Samson Agonistes are works which, though of very different merit, offer some marked points of resemblance. They are both lyric poems in the form of plays. There are perhaps no two kinds of composition so essentially dissimilar as the drama and the ode. The business of the dramatist is to keep himself out of sight, and to let nothing appear but his characters. As soon as he attracts notice to his personal feelings, the illusion is broken. The effect is as unpleasant as that which is produced on the stage by the voice of a prompter, or the entrance of a scene-shifter. Hence it was that the tragedies of Byron were his least successful performances. 4 §§ 25-30. Fourth topic: Milton's dramatic poetry. Like the Greek drama, it has much of the lyric character. The Greek drama and Samson Agonistes; Comus and the Italian masques. 1 Atar of roses, usually written "attar," "otto"; an essential oil of roses made in Turkey. It takes one hundred and fifty pounds of roseleaves to make an ounce of the atar. 2 3 Macaulay wrote "canto " in the first edition. A stanza is a series of lines grouped together in a fixed order, composing a part of a poem. A canto is a much larger thing, a division of some length in a long poem. Lyric, delineating the poet's own thoughts and feelings. Drama, a story of passions and feelings not belonging to the poet, conveyed by action and representation of persons. Ode, a lyric poem of the most exalted kind, expressing the highest feelings of the poet. 4 Byron (1788-1824) was reviewed in the Edinburgh in 1830 by Ma They resemble those pasteboard pictures invented by the friend of children, Mr. Newbery, in which a single movable head goes round twenty different bodies; so that the same face looks out upon us successively, from the uniform of a hussar, the furs of a judge, and the rags of a beggar. In all the characters, patriots and tyrants, haters and lovers, the frown and sneer of Harold1 were discernible in an instant. But this species of egotism, though fatal to the drama, is the inspiration of the ode. It is the part of the lyric poet to abandon himself, without reserve, to his own emotions. 26. Between these hostile elements many great men have endeavored to effect an amalgamation, but never with complete success. The Greek Drama, on the model of which the Samson was written, sprang from the Ode. The dialogue was engrafted on the chorus,2 and naturally partook of its character. The genius of the greatest of the Athenian dramatists co-operated with the circumstances under which tragedy made its first appearance. Eschylus 3 was, caulay. The idea here expressed about Byron is in that paper expanded and explained. 1 Byron's first and best-known poem, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, describes in the character of the hero his own melancholy spirit journeying over Europe. 2 The Greek Drama was evolved from choruses sung by bands of dancing villagers around the altars of harvest gods. During these hymns they imitated the actions of the gods and heroes which their songs described. Afterwards a narrator and actor joined in dialogue with them. Finally several actors and a regular stage were introduced and the Drama was thus created. But, as Macaulay says, the dramatic element was to the end subordinated to the lyric. 3 Eschylus (525-456 B.C.), the first of the three great Greek tragedians. As to the "Oriental tincture" in his poetry, it cannot be true that he borrowed anything from Asia. Rather was his spirit a kindred one to that of the Orient, for in common with the poets and prophets of the Hebrew race he had a deep sense of the mystical meaning in human life, while in common with the Greek race he could express head and heart, a lyric poet. In his time, the Greeks had far more intercourse with the East than in the days of Homer; and they had not yet acquired that immense superiority in war, in science, and in the arts, which, in the following generation, led them to treat the Asiatics with contempt. From the narrative of Herodotus, it should seem that they still looked up with the veneration of disciples to Egypt and Assyria. At this period, accordingly, it was natural that the literature of Greece should be tinctured with the Oriental style. And that style, we think, is clearly discernible in the works of Pindar 2 and Eschylus. The latter often reminds us of the Hebrew writers. The Book of Job, indeed, in conduct and diction, bears a considerable resemblance to some of his dramas. Considered as plays, his works are absurd: considered as choruses, they are above all praise. If, for instance, we examine the address of Clytaemnestra to Agamemnon on his return, or the description of the seven Argive chiefs,' by the principles of dramatic writing, we shall instantly condemn them as monstrous. But, if we forget the charachis ideas under beautiful plastic forms. Milton resembles Eschylus in his fondness for imagining vast incorporeal personages and allegorical beings. 3 1 Herodotus (484-424 B.C.), one of the earliest writers of Greek History. He depicts, as in a drama, the evolution of the struggle, centuries old, between Asia and Europe for control of the Mediterranean world. His history culminates in the victory of Greece at Marathon and Salamis. In the course of his work he has much to say in long digressions upon Egypt and Assyria. 2 Pindar (522-443 B.C.) writer of odes, chiefly in honor of victors at various sacred national games. 3 In the greatest play of Æschylus, called the Agamemnon, translated into English by Robert Browning (Aristophanes' Apology) and by Edward Fitzgerald (The Agamemnon). 4 In the Seven Chiefs against Thebes, telling how in the quarrel of the house of Cadmus for the sovereignty of Thebes, that city was besieged by seven Argive champions. |