ment. 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 5 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,' Io '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. In support of these observations, we may remark, 15 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. They are not always more appropriate or more melodious than other names. But they are charmed 20 names. Every one of them is the first link in a long chain of associated ideas. Like the dwelling-place of * Sesame (three syllables)—an oily grain originally from India, and now used in Egypt, and elsewhere in the East. The reference here is to the tale of The Forty Thieves,' in the 'Arabian Nights'. 'Open Sesame," was the charm by which the door of the robbers' dungeon flew open. + Dryden, John (1631-1700), an eminent English poet who translated Virgil's 'Eneid,' and wrote 'The Hind and Panther,' &c. Macaulay's reference is to Dryden's Opera, based on 'Paradise Lost' and called 'The State of Innocence and Fall of Man'. Dryden asked Milton's leave to adapt 'Paradise Lost,' and was answered with a good-humoured "Ay, you may tag my verses". 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 5 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 10 housings, the quaint devices, the haunted forests, the enchanted gardens, the achievements of enamoured knights, and the smiles of rescued princesses. In none of the works of Milton is his peculiar manner more happily displayed than in the Allegro ‡ 15 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 ottar of roses differs from ordinary rose water, the close-packed essence from the thin-diluted 20 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. text for a canto. Every epithet is a *Dog-eared-the leaves of the volume being crumpled and turned down at the corners, something like the ears of a dog. Virgil (70-19 B.C.), the author of the greatest epic poem in Latin (Æneid), as Homer in Greek. + Housings-cloths orginally used to keep off dust, afterwards added to saddles as ornamental. Allegro and Penseroso-two companion lyric poems by Milton, dealing with the contrast of "mirth" and "melancholy". 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 5 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 Io unpleasant as that which is produced on the stage by the voice of a prompter, or the entrance of a sceneshifter. Hence it was that the tragedies of Byron * were his least successful performances. They resemble those pasteboard pictures invented by the friend of 15 children, Mr. Newberry, 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 20 tyrants, haters and lovers-the frown and sneer of Harold 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 25 emotions. * Byron, Lord (1788-1824), one of the great names in English poetry. His tragedies here referred to are Marino Faliero, the Two Foscari, Manfred, Sardanapalus, Cain, and Werner. Compare Prof. Nichol's dictum on these. "His so-called Dramas are only poems divided into chapters" (Byron, 'English Men of Letters,' p. 142). Byron's chief poem is 'Childe Harold'. Between these hostile elements many great men have endeavoured to effect an amalgamation, but never with complete success. The Greek Drama, on the model of which the Samson was written, sprung from the ode. The dialogue was engrafted on the 5 chorus, and naturally partook of its character. The genius of the greatest of the Athenian dramatists cooperated with the circumstances under which Tragedy made its first appearance. Æschylus* was, head and heart, a lyric poet. In his time, the Greeks had far 10 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 Hero- 15 dotus, 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 20 in the works of Pindart and Æschylus. The latter often reminds us of the Hebrew writers. The book of Job, indeed, in conduct and diction, bears a considerable * Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, are the three great Greek Tragedians; they flourished in the fifth century before Christ. ↑ Herodotus, contemporary in Greece with the three above, but famous as a historian-the oldest of Greek historians. Pindar, also a contemporary, but his field was lyric poetry. Poems in imitation of his manner, in a lofty style, and introducing various metres, are called Pindaric Odes. Cf. Gray's 'Bard'. 4 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 Clytemnestra* to Agamemnon on his 5 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 characters, and think only of the poetry, we shall admit that it has never been surpassed in energy and 10 magnificence. Sophocles made the Greek drama as dramatic as was consistent with its original form. His portraits of men have a sort of similarity; but it is the similarity, not of a painting, but of a bas-relief. It suggests a resemblance, but it does not produce an 15 illusion. Euripides attempted to carry the reform further. But it was a task far beyond his powers, perhaps beyond any powers. Instead of correcting what was bad, he destroyed what was excellent. He substituted crutches for stilts, bad sermons for good 20 odes. Milton, it is well known, admired Euripides highly -much more highly than, in our opinion, Euripides deserved. Indeed the caresses which this partiality leads him to bestow on 'sad Electra's poet,' + some25 times remind us of the beautiful Queen of Fairyland * Clytemnestra, Agamemnon-personages in Æschylus' Tragedy of 'Agamemnon'. + 'Sad Electra's Poet'-Euripides. One of his plays is called 'Electra'. |