Legislators of Greece.-Emblems.-Wordsworth. the impression which virtue makes upon us, and that sentiment which is inspired by whatever is sublime either among the productions of the fine arts, or in the aspect of the physical world. The regular and graceful proportions of antique statues, the calm and pure expression of certain paintings, the harmony of music, the view of a beautiful prospect over a fruitful country, transport us with an enthusiasm by no means uncongenial to that admiration to which we are raised by the contemplation of generous and heroic actions." "The master-pieces of literature, independent of the fine examples which they furnish, produce a kind of moral and physical emotion, an agitating transport of admiration, which excites us to the performance of generous deeds. The legislators of Greece attached no mean importance to the effect that might be produced by music of a martial or voluptuous character. The sentiment of the intellectual beautiful, while it is employed upon literary objects, must inspire a repugnance for every thing mean or ferocious." Though the cultivation of the taste will not create moral principles in the mind where they do not exist, it is maintained that there is an affinity between the refinements of taste and the virtues of the soul; between the beautiful and the good. Heaven, the peculiar abode of holiness, is represented as a place of transcendant beauty and glory. And granting that the fine arts are utterly powerless to implant pure principles, still, if not abused, they will foster and expand them, and imbue them with a fine sensibility. Truth and virtue may be inculcated by emblems, or rather embodiments of themselves. The philosophical Wordsworth represents natural objects as training into beauty, not only the mind, but the body. He represents Nature as thus promising to mould her favoured child, Statue.-Parables.-Enthusiasm. "She shall be sportive as the fawn That, wild with glee, across the lawn And hers shall be the breathing balm, Of mute insensate things. "The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend. Nor shall she fail to see, E'en in the motions of the storm, Grace that shall mould the maiden's form, "The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear, In many a secret place, Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And, in the same manner, the statue of a great and good man fills the beholder with aspirations after a like exalted place in the hearts of men, or, at least, inspires him with a higher trust in human nature, and in his own powers. The influence of the painter is still wider, he speaks in parables that are of an easy interpretation; and who can express the fine impulses that have been given to society by the poet and the musician? The successful artist is always an enthusiast: without an ardent love, a passion for his art, effort will be fruitless. Indeed, a "fine phrensy" is requisite to the production of superior excellence. Southey tells us, that the happiest period of his life was that in which he wrote most poetry. With the artist, labour brings its own recompense, though for a time, his productions, Love of fame.-Sympathy.-Nature's Lessons. undervalued by the world, may scarcely obtain for him a subsistence; princes might envy him the enjoyment he experiences in embodying the visions of beauty that rise before his spiritual sight, and expand into full-blown beauty as he ponders over them. The love of fame which the artist feels, is surely different from that of the warrior or the statesman; it is more a desire for sympathy, a desire that that which has delighted i.imself should delight others. "By a law of our nature," says Coleridge, "he who labours under a strong feeling is impelled to seek for sympathy, and a poet's feelings are all strong." Akenside, therefore, speaks with philosophical accuracy, when he classes love and poetry as having the same effects : "Love, and the wish of poets, when their tongues Would teach to others' bosoms what so charms Again, Coleridge writes, "I expect neither profit nor general fame from my writings, and I consider myself as having been amply repaid without either. Poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward; it has soothed my afflictions, it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments; it has endeared solitude, and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me." Nature is replete with lessons of faith, and hope, and love, but the uncultivated mind, unless of rare and peculiar organization, seldom finds "Sermons in stones, books in the running brooks, Office of Artist. It is the office of the artist to give a moral to nature, to trace the analogies between the spiritual world and the natural. By the rude and ignorant, the loveliest and most magnificent works of nature are disregarded. Though they may produce an unconscious effect, he sees not the soul of things. "A primrose by the river's brim, A yellow primrose is to him, And it is nothing more." While to him who has wandered the earth in company with the poet, it will bring up sweet thoughts of spring; bright memories of vernal seasons past, and brighter hopes of an eternal awakening from wintry torpor. Hear with what the poet, who is wont "To play with similies, Loose types of things through all degrees," can invest this little flower, giving it a voice which will not be hushed, but shall echo on from year to year, and find a response in many a heart : "I sang, let myriads of bright flowers, "Sin-blighted though we are, we, too, The reasoning sons of men, Shall rise and breathe again, And in eternal summer lose Our threescore years and ten.” Poetry, the widest range.-Indefinitely multiplied.-Highest office of poetry, Poetry, addressed to both the eye and the ear, has by far the widest range in the dominion of the Muses. Her flights are only limited by the power of the imagination. From its capability of being indefinitely multiplied, it is more universally diffused than any of the other arts. It can be carried into the depths of the forest, and be borne to and fro on the bosom of the deep, while the other fine arts, in any thing like perfection, are confined to populous cities. The creation of the poet, while it adorns he library of the palace, and is enjoyed by the prince, at the same time may enrich the scanty bookshelf of the cottage, and rejoice the hearts of its humble inhabitants. The names of other artists, however celebrated, are known and cherished but by the few, while the names of our eminent poets are watchwords that call up an echo in almost every heart. The highest office of poetry is to delineate the emotions and passions of the human soul; and here she has the advantage of the other arts, for she can trace them from their cause to their effects, while they can only seize and portray some fleeting moment. So, in description, poetry can soar from morn to dewy eve, and from torrid to frigid climes, without a pause in her flight, at the same time giving the storied associations connected with each scene. To the cultivated mind, what subtle beauty, what far-soaring thought, may a single line of the poet convey. Take a line or two of Milton: “Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings, The break of the metre in the first line is half its beauty. It brings the ear attent to hear-what? The touch of golden wires. Unshorn Apollo-what an humble epithet! yet, who would attempt to substitute a better? We behold the bright |