Heaven's gilded troops shall flutter here and there, Every reader feels himself weary with this useless talk of an 151 allegorical Being. It is not only when the events are confessedly miraculous 152 that fancy and fiction lose their effect: the whole system of life, while the Theocracy was yet visible, has an appearance so different from all other scenes of human action that the reader of the Sacred Volume habitually considers it as the peculiar mode of existence of a distinct species of mankind, that lived. and acted with manners uncommunicable; so that it is difficult even for imagination to place us in the state of them whose story is related, and by consequence their joys and griefs are not easily adopted, nor can the attention be often interested in any thing that befals them. To the subject, thus originally indisposed to the reception 153 of poetical embellishments, the writer brought little that could reconcile impatience or attract curiosity. Nothing can be more disgusting than a narrative spangled with conceits, and conceits are all that the Davideis supplies. One of the great sources of poetical delight is description, 154 or the power of presenting pictures to the mind. Cowley gives inferences instead of images, and shews not what may be supposed to have been seen, but what thoughts the sight might have suggested. When Virgil describes the stone which Turnus lifted against Æneas, he fixes the attention on its bulk and weight: 'Saxum circumspicit ingens, Saxum antiquum, ingens, campo quod forte jacebat, Limes agro positus, litem ut discerneret arvis".' Cowley says of the stone with which Cain slew his brother, 'I saw him fling the stone, as if he meant At once his murther and his monument 3.' Of the sword taken from Goliah he says, 'A sword so great, that it was only fit To cut off [take off] his great head that [who] came with it.' 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 Other poets describe death by some of its common appearances; Cowley says, with a learned allusion to sepulchral lamps real or fabulous, "Twixt his right ribs deep pierc'd the furious blade, And open'd wide those secret vessels where But he has allusions vulgar as well as learned. In a visionary succession of kings: 'Joas at first does bright and glorious show, In life's fresh morn his fame does [did] early crow".' Describing an undisciplined army, after having said with elegance, 'His forces seem'd no army, but a crowd Heartless, unarm'd, disorderly, and loud'; he gives them a fit of the ague3. The allusions however are not always to vulgar things: he offends by exaggeration as much as by diminution: 'The king was plac'd alone, and o'er his head A well-wrought heaven of silk and gold was spread ".' Gold, which alone [above] more influence has than he 5. In one passage he starts a sudden question, to the confusion of philosophy: 'Ye learned heads, whom ivy garlands grace, And rough as are the winds that fight with it".' His expressions have sometimes a degree of meanness that surpasses expectation: 'Nay, gentle guests [guest], he cries [said he], since now you're in, The story of your gallant friend begin".' In a simile descriptive of the Morning: 'As glimmering stars just at th' approach of day, The dress of Gabriel deserves attention: 'He took for skin a cloud most soft and bright, The choicest piece cut [took] out, a scarfe is made 2.' 162 This is a just specimen of Cowley's imagery: what might 163 in general expressions be great and forcible he weakens and makes ridiculous by branching it into small parts. That Gabriel was invested with the softest or brightest colours of the sky we might have been told, and been dismissed to improve the idea in our different proportions of conception; but Cowley could not let us go till he had related where Gabriel got first his skin, and then his mantle, then his lace, and then his scarfe, and related it in the terms of the mercer and taylor. Sometimes he indulges himself in a digression, always con- 164 ceived with his natural exuberance, and commonly, even where it is not long, continued till it is tedious: 'I' th' library a few choice authors stood; Yet 'twas well stor'd, for that small store was good; Itself, as now, grown a disease of men. Learning (young virgin) but few suitors knew ; And with the spurious brood loads now the press; As the Davideis affords only four books, though intended to 165 consist of twelve, there is no opportunity for such criticisms as Epick poems commonly supply. The plan of the whole work is very imperfectly shewn by the third part: the duration of an unfinished action cannot be known. Of characters either 1 Eng. Poets, viii. 2 lb. p. 240. 297. Ib. p. 203. 'I intended,' Cowley wrote, 'to close all with that most poetical and 166 not yet introduced, or shewn but upon few occasions, the full extent and the nice discriminations cannot be ascertained. The fable is plainly implex', formed rather from the Odyssey than the Iliad; and many artifices of diversification are employed, with the skill of a man acquainted with the best models. The past is recalled by narration, and the future anticipated by vision; but he has been so lavish of his poetical art that it is difficult to imagine how he could fill eight books more without practising again the same modes of disposing his matter; and perhaps the perception of this growing incumbrance inclined him to stop. By this abruption posterity lost more instruction than delight. If the continuation of the Davideis can be missed, it is for the learning that had been diffused over it, and the notes in which it had been explained 2. Had not his characters been depraved like every other part by improper decorations, they would have deserved uncommon praise. He gives Saul both the body and mind of a hero: 'His way once chose, he forward thrust outright, Nor turn'd [step'd] aside for danger [dangers] or delight 3.' excellent elegy of David on the death of Saul and Jonathan; for I had no mind to carry him quite on to his anointing at Hebron, because it is the custom of heroic poets (as we see by the examples of Homer and Virgil, whom we should do ill to forsake to imitate others) never to come to the full end of their story; but only so near that every one may see it; as men commonly play not out the game, when it is evident that they can win it, but lay down their cards, and take up what they have won.' Eng. Poets, vii. 19. The fable of every poem is, according to Aristotle's division, either simple or implex. It is called simple when there is no change of fortune in it; implex, when the fortune of the chief actor changes from bad to good, or from good to bad.' ADDISON, Spectator, No. 297. 2 Ante, COWLEY, 110. The learn- 'Beneath the dens where unfletch'd tempests lie, And infant winds their tender voices try, Beneath the mighty ocean's wealthy caves, Beneath th' eternal fountain of all waves, Where their vast court the motherwaters keep, And, undisturb'd by moons, in silence sleep,' &c. He thus explains this:-'To give a problematical reason of the perpetual supply of water to fountains and rivers it is necessary to establish an abyss, or deep gulf of waters, into which the sea discharges itself, as rivers do into the sea.... For to refer the original of all fountains to condensation, and afterwards to dissolution of vapours under the earth, is one of the most unphilosophical opinions in all Aristotle.' Cowley's Works, 1674, Davideis, p. 26. See also ib. p. 116 for thunder as 'an exhalation hot and dry.' 3 Eng. Poets, viii. 295. And the different beauties of the lofty Merab and the gentle Michal are very justly conceived and strongly painted 1. Rymer has declared the Davideis superior to the Jerusalem 167 of Tasso, 'which,' says he, 'the poet, with all his care, has not totally purged from pedantry 2.' If by pedantry is meant that minute knowledge which is derived from particular sciences and studies, in opposition to the general notions supplied by a wide survey of life and nature, Cowley certainly errs by introducing pedantry far more frequently than Tasso. I know not, indeed, why they should be compared; for the resemblance of Cowley's work to Tasso's is only that they both exhibit the agency of celestial and infernal spirits, in which however they differ widely for Cowley supposes them commonly to operate upon the mind by suggestion; Tasso represents them as promoting or obstructing events by external agency. Of particular passages that can be properly compared I re- 168 member only the description of Heaven 3, in which the different manner of the two writers is sufficiently discernible. Cowley's is, scarcely description, unless it be possible to describe by negatives; for he tells us only what there is not in heaven. Tasso endeavours to represent the splendours and pleasures of the regions of happiness. Tasso affords images, and Cowley sentiments. It v happens, however, that Tasso's description affords some reason for Rymer's censure. He says of the Supreme Being, 'Hà sotto i piedi e [il] fato e la natura, Ministri humili, e 'l moto, e ch' il [chi 'l] misura “.' The second line has in it more of pedantry than perhaps can 169 be found in any other stanza of the poem. In the perusal of the Davideis, as of all Cowley's works, we 170 find wit and learning unprofitably squandered. Attention has no relief; the affections are never moved; we are sometimes surprised, but never delighted, and find much to admire, but little to approve. Still, however, it is the work of Cowley, of a mind capacious by nature, and replenished by study. In the general review of Cowley's poetry it will be found 171 that he wrote with abundant fertility, but negligent or unskilful ‣ selection; with much thought, but with little imagery; that he Eng. Poets, viii. 267. Translation of Rapin's Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise of Poesie, Preface, p. 19. See ante, COWLEY, 145. 4 Eng. Poets, viii. 190. La Gerusalemme Liberata, ix. 56. |