had the poet been capable of it, could have been the cause of his making it worse. It is very probable, that the instance of Shakespeare may have induced some persons to think unfavourably of the influence of learning upon genius; but a conclusion so important should never be inferred from one instance, especially when that is allowed to be extraordinary, and almost supernatural. From the phenomena of so transcendant a genius, we must not judge of human nature in general; no more than we are to take the rules of British agriculture from what is practised in the Summer islands. Nor let it be any objection to the utility of classick learning, that we often meet with men of excellent parts, whose faculties were never improved, either by the doctrine or by the discipline of the schools. A practice which is not indispensably necessary, may yet be highly useful. We have heard of merchants, who could hardly write or read, superintending an extensive commerce, and acquiring great wealth and esteem by the most honourable means: yet who will say, that writing and reading are not useful to the merchant? There have been men eminent both for genius and for virtue, who in the beginning of life were almost totally neglected: yet who will say, that the care of parents, and early habits of virtue and reflection, are not of infinite importance to the human mind? Milton was one of the most learned men this nation ever produced. But his great learning neither impaired his judgment, nor checked his imagination. A richer vein of invention, as well as a more correct taste, appears in the Paradise Lost, written when he was near sixty years of age, than in any of his earlier performances. Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes, which were his last works, are not so full of imagery, nor admit so much fancy, as many of his other pieces; but they discover a consummate judgment; and little is wanting to make each of them perfect in its kind.-I am not offended at that profusion of learning which here and there appears in the Paradise Lost. It gives a classical air to the poem it refreshes the mind with new ideas; and there is something, in the very sound of the names of places and persons whom he celebrates, that is wonderfully pleasing to the ear. Admit all this to be no better than pedantick superfluity; yet will it not follow, that Milton's learning did him any harm upon the whole, provided it appear to have improved him in matters of higher importance. And that it did so, is VÒL. VIII. 47 undeniable. This poet is not more eminent for strength and sublimity of genius, than for the art of his composition; which he owed partly to a fine taste in harmony, and partly to his accurate knowledge of the ancients. The style of his numbers has not often been imitated with success. It is not merely the want of rhyme, nor the diversified position of pauses, nor the drawing out of the sense from one line to another; far less is it the mixture of antiquated words and strange idioms, that constitutes the charm of Milton's versification; though many of his imitators, when they copy him in these or in some of these respects, think they have acquitted themselves very well. But one must study the best classick au thors with as much critical skill as Milton did, before one can pretend to rival him in the art of harmonious writing. For, after all the rules that can be given, there is something in this art, which cannot be acquired but by a careful study of the ancient masters, particularly Homer, Demosthenes, Plato, Cicero, and Virgil; every one of whom, or at least the two first and the last, it would be easy to prove, that Milton has imitated, in the construction of his numbers.—In a word, we have good reason to conclude, that Milton's genius, instead of being overloaded or encumbered, was greatly improved, enriched, and refined, by his learning. At least we are sure this was his own opinion. Never was there a more indefatigable student. And from the superabundance of classick allusions to be met with in every page of his poetry, we may guess how highly he valued the literature of Greece and Rome, and how frequently he meditated upon it. Spenser was learned in Latin and Greek, as well as in Italian. But either the fashion of the times, or some deficiency in his own taste, inclined him to prefer the modern to the ancient models. His genius was comprehensive and sublime, his style copious, his sense of harmony delicate and nothing seems to have been wanting to make him a poet of the highest rank, but a more intimate acquaintance with the classick authors. We may at least venture to say, that if he had been a little more conversant in these, he would not, in his Shepherd's Calendar, have debased the tenderness of pastoral with the impure mixture of theological disputation; nor would he have been so intoxicated with the splendid faults of the Orlando Furioso, as to construct his Fairy Queen on that Gothick model, rather than according to the plan which Homer invented, and which Virgil and Tasso (who were also favourites with our author) had so happily imitated. It is said to be on account of the purity of his style, and the variety of his invention, and not for any thing admirable in his plan, that the Italians in general prefer Ariosto to Tasso :*—and indeed we can hardly conceive, how a tale so complex and so absurd, so heterogeneous in its parts, and so extravagant as a whole, should be more esteemed than a simple, probable, perspicuous, and interesting fable. Yet Spenser gave the preference to the former; a fact so extraordinary, considering his abilities in other respects, that we cannot account for it, without supposing it to have been partly the effect of a bias contracted by long acquaintance. And if so, have we not reason to think, that if he had been but equally conversant with better patterns, his taste would have acquired a different and better direction? Dryden's knowledge of foreign and ancient languages did not prevent his being a perfect master of his own. No author ever had a more exquisite sense of the energy and beauty of English words; though it cannot be denied, that his aversion to words of foreign original, and his desire on all occasions to do honour to his mother-tongue, betrays him frequently into mean phrases and vulgar idioms. His unhappy circumstances, or rather perhaps the fashion of his age, alike unfriendly to good morals and good writing, did not permit him to avail himself of his great learning so much as might have been expected. The author of Polymetis has proved him guilty of many mistakes in regard to the ancient mythology and I believe it will be allowed, by all his impartial readers, that a little more learning, or something of a more classical taste, would have been of great use to him, as it was to his illustrious imitator.. : The Academicians della Crusca published criticisms on Tasso's Gierusalemme Liberata ; but those related chiefly to the language, and were founded in too rigorous a partiality for the Florentine dialect. But "the magnificence of Tasso's numbers and diction, together with his great conformity to epick rules, will for ever overbalance Ariosto's superiour gracefulness and rapidity of expression, and greater fertility of invention. The Jerusalem will always be the more striking, and the Orlando the more pleasing of the two poems." Baretti on Italy, vol. I. p. 252 I know not whether any nation ever produced a more singular genius than Cowley. He abounds in tender thoughts, beautiful lines, and emphatical expressions. His wit is inexhaustible, and his learning extensive; but his taste is generally barbarous, and seems to have been formed upon such models as Donne, Martial, and the worst parts of Ovid: nor is it possible to read his longer poems with pleasure, while we retain any relish for the simplicity of ancient composition. If this author's ideas had been fewer, his conceits would have been less frequent; so that in one respect learning may be said to have hurt his genius. Yet it does not appear, that his Greek and Latin did him any harm; for his imitations of Anacreon are almost the only parts of him that are now remembered or read. His Davideis, and his translations of Pindar are destitute of harmony, simplicity, and every other classical grace. Had his inclinations led him to a frequent perusal of the most elegant authors of antiquity, his poems would certainly have been the better for it. It was never said, nor thought, that Swift, Pope, or Addison,* impaired their genius by too close an application to Latin and Greek. On the contrary, we have reason to ascribe to their knowledge of these tongues, that classical purity of style by which their writings are distinguished. All our * “Mr. Addison employed his first years in the study of the old Greek and Roman writers; whose language and manner he caught at that time of life, as strongly as other young people gain a French accent, or a genteel air. An early acquaintance with the classicks is what may be called the good-breeding of poetry, as it gives a certain gracefulness which never forsakes a mind that contracted it in youth, but is seldom or never hit by those who would learn it too late. He first distinguished himself by his Latin compositions, published in the Musae Anglicanae; and was admired as one of the best authors since the Augustan age, in the two universities, and the greatest part of Europe, before he was talked of as a poet in town. There is not perhaps any harder task than to tame the natural wildness of wit, and to civilize the fancy. The generality of our old English poets abound in forced conceits and affected phrases; and even those who are said to come the nearest to exactness are but too often fond of unnatural beauties, and aim at something better than perfection. If Mr. Addison's example and precepts be the occasion, that there now begins to be a great demand for correctness, we may justly attribute it to his being first fashioned by the ancient models, and familiarized to propriety of thought, and chastity of style." Tickel's account of the life and writings of Addison. most eminent philosophers and divines, Bacon, Newton, Cudworth, Hooker, Taylor, Atterbury, Stillingfleet, were profoundly skilled in ancient literature. And every rational admirer of Mr. Locke will acknowledge, that if his learning had been equal to his good sense and manly spirit, his works would have been still more creditable to himself, and more useful to mankind. In writings of wit and humour, one would be apt to think, that there is no great occasion for the knowledge of antiquity; it being the author's chief aim and business, to accommodate himself to the manners of the present time. And if study be detrimental to any faculty of the mind, we might suspect, that a playful imagination, the parent of wit and humour, would be most likely to suffer by it. Yet the history of our first-rate geniuses in this way (Shakespeare always excepted) is a proof of the contrary. There is more learning, as well as more wit, in Hudibras, than in any book of the same size now extant. In the Tale of a Tub, the Tatler, and the Spectator, the Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus, and in many parts of Fielding, we discover at once a brilliant wit and copious erudition. For I have confined these brief remarks to English writers. But the same thing might be proved by examples from every literary nation of modern, and even of ancient Europe. we must not suppose, that the Greek and Latin authors, because they did not study many languages, were illiterate men. Homer and Virgil were skilled in all the learning of their time. The men of letters in those days were capable of more intense application, and had a greater thirst of knowledge, than the generality of the moderns; and would often, in defiance of poverty, fatigue, and danger, travel into distant lands, and visit famous places and persons, to qualify themselves for instructing mankind. And, however learned we may be in modern writings, our curiosity can hardly fail to be raised in regard to the ancient, when we consider, that the greater part of these were the work, and contain the thoughts of men, who had themselves been engaged in the most eventful scenes of active life; while most modern books contain only the notions of speculative writers, who know but the theory of business, and that but imperfectly, and whose determinations upon the principles of great affairs, and the feelings and sentiments peculiar to active life, are little better |
