ligion. It is my intention, gentlemen, to follow the example of this great philosopher; and since the university has honoured me with this office of explaining to you the nature and principles of poetry, I mean to enter upon it from that quarter, whence he thought himself obliged to commence the study and practice of the art. I have determined, therefore, in the first place, to treat of sacred poetry, that species, I mean, which was cultivated by the ancient Hebrews, and which is peculiarly appropriated to subjects the most solemn and sublime; that should my endeavours prove unequal to so great a subject, I may, as it were, with favourable auspices, descend to matters of inferior importance. I undertake this office, however, with the most perfect conviction, that not only from a regard to duty it ought to be executed with diligence; but from the respectability of that body, at whose command it is undertaken, it ought to be executed with honour and reputation; nor is it merely to be considered what the intent of the institution and the improvement of the students may require, but what will be consistent with the dignity of this university. For since the university, when it gave its sanction to this species of discipline by a special degree, recommended the study of poetry, particularly because it might conduce to the improvement of the more important sciences, as well sacred as profane, nothing could certainly appear more useful in itself, or more agreeable to the purpose of this institution, and the design of its learned patrons, than to treat of that species of poetry, which constitutes so considerable a part of sacred literature, and excels all other poetry, not less in the sublimity of the style, than in the dignity of the subject.

See the statute relating to the poetic lecture.

It would not be easy, indeed, to assign a reason, why the writings of Homer, of Pindar, and of Horace, should engross our attention and monopolize our praise, while those of Moses, of David and Isaiah pass totally unregarded. Shall we suppose that the subject is not adapted to a seminary, in which sacred literature has ever maintained a precedence? Shall we say, that it is foreign to this assembly of promising youth, of whom the greater part have consecrated the best portion of their time and labour to the same department of learning? Or must we conclude, that the writings of those men, who have accomplished only as much as human genius and ability could accomplish, should be reduced to method and theory; but that those which boast a much higher origin, and are justly attributed to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, may be considered as indeed illustrious by their native force and beauty, but not as conformable to the principles of science, nor to be circumscribed by any rules of art? It is indeed most true, that sacred poetry, if we contemplate its origin alone, is far superior to both nature and art; but if we would rightly estimate its excellencies, that is, if we wish to understand its power in exciting the human affections, we must have recourse to both: for we must consider what those affections are, and by what means they are to be excited. Moreover, as in all other branches of science, so in poetry, art or theory consists in a certain knowledge derived from the careful observation of nature, and confirmed by practice and experience; for men of learning having remarked in things what was graceful, what was fit, what was conducive to the attainment of certain ends, they digested such discoveries as had been casually made, and reduced them to an established order or method: whence

of Plato, that he is thought not only to have erred in his judgement, but to have acted an ungrateful part, when he excluded from his imaginary commonwealth that art, to which he was so much indebted for the splendour and elegance of his genius, from whose fountains he had derived that soft, copious, and harmonious style, for which he is so justly admired.

But to return to the nobler and more important productions of the Muses. Thus far poetry must be allowed to stand eminent among the other liberal arts; inasmuch as it refreshes the mind when it is fatigued, soothes it when it is agitated, relieves and invigorates it when it is depressed; as it elevates the thoughts to the admiration of what is beautiful, what is becoming, what is great and noble: nor is it enough to say, that it delivers the precepts of virtue in the most agreeable manner; it insinuates or instils into the soul the very principles of morality itself. Moreover, since the desire of mediocrity in the other. The chief excellence of an Orator consists in perspicuity, and in such a degree of perspicuity as is necessary to render the composition intelligible even to the common people: but, though obscurity be not a necessary adjunct of a good poem, it must be considerably superior to the language and comprehension of the vulgar to rank above mediocrity. The Orator must not deviate from the common and beaten track of language; the Poet must aim at a happy boldness of diction, and wander into new paths. The Orator, in order to be generally understood, is necessarily more copious and prolix not only than the Poet, but than all other writers; the chief commendation of the Poet is brevity. A poem is always enervated by circumlocutions, unless new lights of sentiment and language are thrown in. For these and other reasons, I am of opinion, that if a well-cultivated genius for Poetry should apply earnestly to Oratory, he might indeed prove such an Orator as would please a learned audience, and not be unpleasing to the populace; but such a man will never prove a very popular Orator, on whom the people shall gaze with admiration and rapture, and who shall acquire a perfect ascendancy over all their passions: and he who is by nature an Orator, may possibly be a Poet for the multitude, or by art and study, and the imitation of the best models, may make a decent proficiency, but he never can be a great and divine Poet. M.

glory, innate in man, appears to be the most powerful incentive to great and heroic actions, it is the peculiar function of poetry to improve this bias of our nature, and thus to cherish and enliven the embers of virtue: and since one of the principal employments of poetry consists in the celebration of great and virtuous actions, in transmitting to posterity the examples of the bravest and most excellent of men, and in consecrating their names to immortality; this praise is certainly its due, that while it forms the mind to habits of rectitude by its precepts, directs it by example, excites and animates it by its peculiar force, it has also the distinguished honour of distributing to virtue the most ample and desirable rewards of its labours.

But after all, we shall think more humbly of poetry than it deserves, unless we direct our attention to that quarter, where its importance is most eminently conspicuous; unless we contemplate it as employed on sacred subjects, and in subservience to religion. This indeed appears to have been the original office and destination of poetry; and this it still so happily performs, that in all other cases it seems out of character, as if intended for this purpose alone. In other instances poetry appears to want the assistance of art, but in this to shine forth with all its natural splendour, or rather to be animated by that inspiration, which on other occasions is spoken of without being felt. These observations are remarkably exemplified in the Hebrew poetry, than which the human mind can conceive nothing more elevated, more beautiful, or more elegant; in which the almost ineffable sublimity of the subject is fully equalled by the energy of the language, and the dignity of the style. And it is worthy observation, that as some of these writings exceed in antiquity the fabulous ages of

Greece, in sublimity they are superior to the most finished productions of that polished people. Thus if the actual origin of poetry be inquired after, it must of necessity be referred to religion; and since it appears to be an art derived from nature alone, peculiar to no age or nation, and only at an advanced period of society conformed to rule and method, it must be wholly attributed to the more violent affections of the heart, the nature of which is to express themselves in an animated and lofty tone, with a vehemence of expression far remote from vulgar use. It is also no less observable, that these affections break and interrupt the enunciation by their impetuosity; they burst forth in sentences pointed, earnest, rapid, and tremulous; and in some degree the style as well as the modulation is adapted to the emotions and habits of the mind. This is particularly the case in admiration and delight; and what passions are so likely to be excited by religious contemplations as these? What ideas could so powerfully affect a new-created mind (undepraved by habit or opinion) as the goodness, the wisdom, and the greatness of the Almighty? Is it not probable, that the first effort of rude and unpolished verse would display itself in the praise of the Creator, and flow almost involuntarily from the enraptured mind? Thus far at least is certain, that poetry has been nurtured in those sacred places, where she seems to have been first called into existence; and that her original occupation was in the temple and at the altar. However ages and nations may have differed in their religious sentiments and opinions, in this at least we find them all agreed, that the mysteries of their devotion were celebrated in verse.16 Of this origin poetry even yet exhibits no ob

16 The most ancient poetry, as well as music, according to Plato, was