To the difproportion and incongruity of Cowley's fentiments must be added the uncertainty and looseness of his measures. He takes the liberty of using in any place a verse of any length, from two fyllables to twelve. The verses of Pindar have, as he obferves, very little harmony to a modern ear; yet by examining the fyllables we perceive them to be regular, and have reafon enough for fuppofing that the ancient audiences were delighted with the found. The imitator ought therefore to have adopted what he found, and to have added what was wanting; to have preferved a conftant return of the fame numbers, and to have fupplied smoothness of transition and continuity of thought. It is urged by Dr. Sprat, that the irregularity of numbers is the very thing which makes that kind of poefy fit for all manner of fubjects. But he should have remembered, that what is fit for every thing can fit nothing well. The great pleasure of verfe arifes from the known measure of the lines, and uniform ftructure of the ftanzas, by which the voice is regulated, and the memory relieved. If the Pindarick ftyle be, what Cowley thinks it, the highest and noblest kind of writing in verse, it can be adapted only to high and noble subjects; and it will not be easy to reconcile the poet with the critick, or to conceive how that can be the highest kind of writing in verse, which, according to Sprat, is chiefly to be preferred for its near affinity to profe. This lax and lawless verfification fo much concealed the deficiencies of the barren, and flattered the laziness of the idle, that it immediately overfpread our books of poetry; all the boys and girls caught the pleafing fashion, and they that could do nothing else could write like Pindar. The rights of antiquity were invaded, and diforder tried to break into the Latin: a poem on the Sheldonian Theatre, in which all kinds of verfe are fhaken together, is unhappily inserted in the Mufe Anglicane. Pindarism prevailed above half a century; but at laft died gradually away, and other imitations fupply its place. The The The Pindarique Odes have so long enjoyed the highest degree of poetical reputation, that I am not willing to difmifs them with unabated cenfure; and furely though the mode of their composition be erroneous, yet many parts deserve at least that admiration which is due to great comprehenfion of knowledge, and great fertility of fancy. thoughts are often new, and often striking ; but the greatness of one part is disgraced by the littleness of another; and total negligence of language gives the nobleft conceptions the appearance of a fabrick august in the plan, but mean in the materials. Yet furely those verfes are not without a juft claim to praise; of which it may be faid with truth, that no man but Cowley could have written them. The Davideis now remains to be confidered; a poem which the author defigned to have extended to twelve books, merely, as he makes no scruple of declaring, because the Eneid had that number; but he had leisure or perfeverance only to write the third part. Epick poems have been left unfinished by Virgil, Statius, Spenfer, and Cowley. That we have not the whole Davideis is, however, not much to be regretted; for in this undertaking Cowley is, tacitly at least, confeffed to have miscarried. There are not many examples of fo great a work, produced by an author generally read, and generally praised, that has crept through a century with so little regard. Whatever is faid of Cowley, is meant of his other works. Of the Davideis no mention is made; it never appears in books, nor emerges in converfation. By the Spectator it has once been quoted, and by Rymer it has once been praised; nor do I recollect much other notice from its publication till now, in the whole fucceffion of English literature. Of this obfcurity and neglect, if the reafon be inquired, it will be found partly in the choice of the fubject, and partly in the performance of the work. Sacred History has been always read with fubmiffive reverence, and an imagination over-awed and controlled. We have been accustomed to acquiefce in the nakedness and fimplicity of the authentick narrative, and to repose repose on its veracity with fuch humble confidence, as fuppreffes curiofity. We go with the hiftorian as he goes, and ftop with him when he stops. All amplification is frivolous and vain; all addition to that which is already fufficient for the purposes of religion, feems not only ufelefs, but in fome degree profane. Such events as were produced by the vifible interpofition of Divine Power are above the power of human genius to dignify. The miracle of Creation, however it may teem with images, is beft defcribed with little dif fufion of language: He pake the word, and they were made. We are told that Saul was troubled with an evil fpirit; from this Cowley takes an opportunity of describing hell, and telling the hif tory of Lucifer, who was, he fays, Once general of a gilded hoft of fprites, came, And roar'd at his firft plunge into the flame. Lucifer གམན དེ |