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that this is an enjoyment not natural, but acquired, and therefore no distinction of man with respect to his genus; but either a natural taste in some individuals, or else dependent wholly upon the improvement of the mind. `If this be so, my argument is certainly ill-founded, but I believe the very reverse to be the fact; I believe the most stupid and ignorant peasant receives as much temporary gratification by a view from a hill, or in a pleasant dale, as Gilpin himself ever did. Possibly indeed much more; for he has no power of frittering away his feelings by the exercise of his judgment in classing and analysing the objects before him, and thus finding a mountain too pointed, or a dale too circular, and its edges too strongly defined for picturesque beauty.
See the countryman upon a hill which commands what is commonly called a fine view. He opens his eyes, and stares around him with a grin of exquisite delight—" What a vast fine prospect here be! What a power of churches! and look, here's the river, and there's the wood! Sure 'tis a noble view, what a mort of miles one can see!" Place him in a deep valley, a Vaucluse if you will, and he exclaims, "What a vast pleasant place, so shady like, s0 green, and the water so clear! and then it is so lonesome-Why, a body may think here, without no. body's coming to interrupt him."
Now in both these cases who will venture to say that the rude and uninformed peasant does not feel as much delight as a Radcliffe, or a Charlotte Smith, would do in similar situations. True it is, that the artless and honest expressions of his feelings are
not clothed in the glowing colours of the one, or the natural yet elegant language of the other. But the internal sensation is the same, and the only difference is, that he has no power of imparting the pleasure he has experienced to others, in that exquisite manner which the two above-mentioned celebrated and rival ladies can.
I call them rivals, because they were both at the same time aspiring to fame by similar pursuits, though in writings composed in a very different style, and therefore not to be judged by the same rule. For the one is a novelist, but of the highest class, whose great merit is her delineation of character, and her views of life and manners, in which she is almost unequalled; while the works of the other are really romances as they are properly called; and the most striking circumstance which distinguishes them from other first-rate productions of the same kind, is the rich though sometimes gaudy colouring, which she throws over the vivid scenery that she so much delights to describe, and of which the imagery is such as belongs only to a warm country, and the most sublime objects of nature.
In Mrs. Radcliffe's works therefore the narrative is often of little use but to introduce the description to which it is subservient; in Mrs. Smith's, the description is only used to illustrate the story, and never forced into the service: it is always natural, and such as every reader of taste thinks he should feel himself in similar situations. Of this there are some striking instances in Ethelinde, in Desmond, and in the Old Manor House.
Although it may not be strictly pertinent to the
subject of this Essay, yet I cannot resist the temp. tation of saying a few words concerning this last unfortunate lady, whose sorrows and misfortunes are now closed by the hand of death. It has been objected to her, and perhaps not without some foundation, that she has not paid so much attention to morality and religion in her various publications, as she might have done; that she has not assisted her readers to draw the proper inferences from her characters, and the situations in which she has placed them; and therefore that the enjoyment of harmless pleasure, and some improvement of our mental faculties, are the only advantages to be derived from the perusal of her works. Admitting the fact, much may be said in her excuse; disappointed in and made wretched by the tenderest connection of human life, she was left to struggle for herself and family, against every species of treachery and oppression, that the chicanery of law, directed by bad hands, could exercise against her:
"The world was not her friend, nor the world's law."
She found no helping hand to rescue her from the grasp of poverty, and bid her freely exercise the powers of her genius without being dependent on them for bread. Ill educated (that is, with respect to the most important point of education) and worse married; neglected by this world, and never taught to look up with earnest, though "trembling hope" to another, it is no wonder that she did not inculcate more strongly principles of which she knew not the value. It is no small merit that neither in her language nor her sentiments she has strengthened bad ones; and in the only work which may be deemed of
a contrary tendency, the errors both moral and political seem to have proceeded from the head rather than from the heart. +*+.
N° III. On the different taste of Virgil and Horace with respect to rural scenery.
"Flumina amam, sylvasque inglorius.”
It has been observed long since, that no man can be a poet without being sensible of the charms of the country. "Scriptorum chorus omnis amat nemus, et fugit urbes;" that is, in theory': for in fact it is not absolutely the case. And the reason of this supposed preference is not so much on account of the undisturbed quiet of rural retirement, (for that may be had, as to all the purposes of writing and reflection, in Fleet Street as well as in Johnny Grote's house) but because the sublime and beautiful of nature so much assists, invigorates, and inspires a poetic imagination. To the moral and didactic Muse indeed "crowded cities" and "the busy hum of men" may be useful in furnishing materials; and for that reason, perhaps, among others, Johnson, Goldsmith, and many more, have preferred London to any retirement, however beautiful; but in the higher walks of poetry the tumult of a crowded city can only serve to confuse and derange the ideas. Amidst the "fumum et opes strepitumque Rome," on what objects can the "fine frenzy" of a "poet's eye" delight to glance; with what views of nature can he assist his fancy?*
*"Huc rabiosa ruit canis, huc lutulenta ruit sus.
Hence we find, that however poets may in other respects differ from each other, they all agree in celebrating the praises of the country. Even those who as men could hardly exist out of he atmo sphere of Rome or London, as poets have not dared to avow a predilection so disgraceful and almost unnatural-almost impious indeed, if the strong and nervous expression of Cowper in his truly original style,
"God made the country, but man made the town,”* could be understood in its literal sense.
But however poets may agree in this general principle, they vary greatly in the application of it, and in their preference of particular scenery are by no means guided by the same taste.
A remarkable instance of this (which as far as I know has not been noticed before) appears in the two most celebrated poets of the Augustan age, Virgil and Horace. Though born in different parts of Italy, Rome was their common centre, and though both of them speak in raptures of rural scenery and the magnificence of nature, they place the greatest perfection of it in countries very different from each other as well as distant. It is worthy of notice also, that each of them had travelled through the same parts, that is, all over Italy, Greece, and the intervening country, and neither of them fixes on his own natal soil. Virgil indeed was so partial to his, that he wishes there to enjoy his fame, and end his days. He was born near
* This however is the remark, and I believe the language, of Cowley.