POETKY,— WHAT IS IT ? 



Poetry in itself may be one of the most 

 universal pleasures of mankind. By poetry, 

 we mean certain feelings expressed in cer- 

 tain language. Poetical feelings are merely, 

 in other words, all the purest feelings of our 

 nature — feelings, therefore, which, consider- 

 ing what we generally are, cannot but be of 

 rare occurrence. It has been truly said, that 



" Our better nrind 

 Is like a Sunday's garment, then put on 

 When we have nought to do; but at our work 

 We wear a worse for thrift." 



Our common temper, therefore, which is but 

 too generally cold, and selfish, and worldly, 

 is altogether unpoetical ; but let anything 

 occur to put us above ourselves, anything to 

 awaken our devotion, our admiration, or our 

 love — any danger to call forth our courage, 

 any distress to awaken our pity, any great 

 emergency to demand the sacrifice of our 

 own comfort, or interest, or credit, for the 

 sake of others — then we experience for the 

 time a poetical temper, and poetical feelings • 

 for the very essence of poetry is, that it 

 exalts and ennobles us, and puts us into 

 a higher state of mind than that which we 

 are commonly living in. 



Such, then, being poetical feelings, we shall 

 soon see what is meant by poetical language. 

 Our words, our style, nay, our very tone of 

 voice, naturally vary according to the temper 

 of our minds. When we are feeling any 

 strong passion, it instantly alters our manner 

 of speaking from that which we practise on 

 common occasions. It clears away all that 

 is mean and vulgar, all that is dull and tire- 

 some in our language ; and renders it at once 

 spirited, noble, and pithy. The mind being 

 highly excited, becomes more than usually 

 active ; it catches with great quickness 

 every impression given by surrounding 

 objects ; it seizes rapidly every point in 

 which they may seem to express sympathy 

 with its own feelings. Hence, its language 

 is full of images and comparison .; it is unu- 

 sually rich and beautiful — that is, it crowds 

 together a number of ideas in a short space, 

 and expresses them in the most lively 

 manner, because its conception of them is 

 keen and vivid. 



Again, the very tone of the voice is al- 

 tered, it becomes more rapid and animated, 

 and the flow of our words is less broken, and 

 more measured and musical, than in common 

 unexcited conversation. This will be under- 

 stood in a moment, by just turning to the 

 poetical parts of the Bible ; for instance, let 

 any one observe the difference between the 

 two first chapters of the Book of Job, which 

 contain the mere story, and those which im- 

 mediately follow them. He will find his 

 tone and manner of reading, if he be read- 



ing aloud, change instantly in going from 

 the second chapter to the third. 



Poetical language is, in truth, the language 

 of excited feeling; and this is what was 

 meant by saying that as every man has been 

 in a poetical state of mind at some time or 

 other of his life, so almost every man must, 

 in some degree, however imperfect, have ex- 

 pressed himself on such occasions in poetical 

 language. 



One thing more may be added ; the works 

 of great poets require to be approached at 

 the outset with a full faith in their excel- 

 lence ; the reader must be convinced that if 

 he does not fully admire them, it is his fault, 

 and not theirs. This is no more than a just 

 tribute to their reputation ; in other words, 

 it is the proper modesty of an individual 

 thinking his own unpractised judgment 

 more likely to be mistaken than the con- 

 curring voice of the public. And it is the 

 property of the greatest works of genius in 

 other departments also, that a first view of 

 them is generally disappointing ; and if a 

 man were foolish enough to go away trust- 

 ing more to his own hasty impressions than 

 to the deliberate judgment of the world, he 

 would remain continually as blind and igno- 

 rant as he was at the beginning. 



The cartoons of Raphael, at Hampton 

 Court Palace — the frescoes of the same 

 great painter in the galleries of the Vatican 

 at Rome — the famous statues of the Laocoon 

 and the Apollo Belvidere — and the Church 

 of St. Peter at Rome, the most magnificent 

 building perhaps in the world — all alike are 

 generally found to disappoint a person on 

 his first view of them. But let him be sure 

 that they are excellent, and that he only 

 wants the knowledge and the taste to appre- 

 ciate them properly, and every succeeding 

 sight of them will open his eyes more and 

 more, till he learns to admire them, not 

 indeed as much as they deserve, but so much 

 as greatly to enrich and enlarge his own 

 mind, by becoming acquainted with such 

 perfect beauty. So it is with great poets ; 

 they must be read often and studied reve- 

 rently, before an unpractised mind can gain 

 an adequate notion of their excellence. 



Meanwhile, the process is in itself most 

 useful ; it is a good thing to doubt our own 

 wisdom, it is a good thing to believe, it is a 

 good thing to admire. By continually look- 

 ing upwards, our minds will themselves grow 

 upwards ; and as a man, by indulging in 

 habits of scorn and contempt for others, is 

 sure to descend to the level of what he 

 despises, so the opposite habits of admira- 

 tion, and enthusiastic reverence for excel- 

 lence, impart to ourselves a portion of the 

 qualities which we admire ; and here, as 

 in everything else, humility is the surest 

 path to exaltation. 



