1809.] 
in supposing that it is matter. For the 
immaterialist, 10 saying that the mind is 
not matter, does not pretend to under- 
stand its nature thoroughly, or to know 
what relations it may have to other 
things: whereas, the materialist under- 
takes to define whatit is, and in saying 
that the mind is nothing but matter, and 
that thought is motion, affirms not only 
what is unintelligible, but what is contra- 
ry tothe fact. In the one case we are 
considerably at a loss to know how the 
thing can be; in the other, we have suifi- 
- client evidence to believe that it is not so. 
There is one other view of the subject 
which I shall just mention. It may be 
said that thought itself is a simple body 
of matter, an original attribute with 
which it is endowed, or the result of the 
same ultimate principle or substance in 
which the other properties of matter, as 
hard and soft, round and square, are 
supposed te-inhere. But this is not the 
notion of materialism, It is not account- 
ing for mind from the vulgar and known 
properties of matter, but from an en- 
tirely unknown and undefined principle, 
which may be talled spirit as well as 
matter. For we have only to reverse 
the reasoning, and say that the common 
properties and operations of matter ori- 
ginate in the same power or substance, 
of which thought is a characteristic pro- 
perty, that is, in anintellectual or spiri- 
tual substance, and that they ought there- 
fore to be called spiritual. It is only en- 
Jarging the sense in which we use the 
word matter, and making it stand for God 
or nature, or substance in general. The 
question is, whether thought is a primary, 
distinct, essential, quality of some sub- 
stance, or, whether it is merely a second- 
ary, artificial result of the known proper- 
ties of matter organized in a particular 
manner, We can only say, in propriety 
of speech, that mind is the same thing with 
matter when we mean that its laws and 
operations are the same with those of gross 
matter, as these are cognizable to our 
senses, and the objects of physical sci- 
ence. Otherwise we come to no expla- 
nation at ali, but are left as much in the 
cark as ever; and very improperly apply 
to an arbitrary abstraction of our own, a 
term,whichis never used but in connection 
with certain definite ideas, or the known 
nature of matter. This letter has run to 
a greater length than I intended; and I 
will resume the subject in another letter, 
if you should deem what I have already 
written worth the attention of your read- 
érs, Yours, &c, W.H. 
Lyceum of Ancient Literature—Lyric Poetry. 
19 
For the Monthly Magazine. 
LYCHUM OF ANCIENT LITERA- 
TURE.—No. XX. 
LYRIC POETRY. h 
HE most just and comprehensive 
definition which can, we think, be 
given of Poetry, is, that it is the language 
of passion, or of an enlivened imagina- 
tion, formed most commonly into regular 
numbers. The historian, the orator, the 
philosopher, address themselves for the 
most part primarily to the understand- 
ing: their direct aim is to inform, to 1n- 
struct, to persuade. But the first aim 
of the poet is to please, and to move; 
and therefore, it is to the imagination 
and the passions, that he speaks. He 
may, and he ought to, have it in his 
view, to instruct and reform—but it is 
indirectly, and by pleasing and moving, 
that he accomplishes his end. His mind 
is supposed to be animated by some ins 
teresting object whith fires his imagina= 
tion, or engages his passions—and which, 
of course, communicates to his style a 
peculiar elevation suited to his ideas; 
very different from that mode of expres- 
sion which is natural to the mind in its 
calm and undisturbed state. The Greeks, 
fond of attributing to their own nation. 
the invention of every art and science, 
have ascribed the origin of poetry to 
Orpheus, Linus, and Museus. ‘There 
were perhaps such persons as these, who 
were the first distinguished bards in their 
own country. But long before such 
names were heard of, and among nations 
where they were never known, poetry 
certainly existed. It is a great error to 
imagine, that poetry and music are arts 
which belong only to polished nations, 
They have their foundation in the very 
nature of man, and belong to ail nations, 
and to all ages, though, like other arts 
founded in nature, they have been more 
cultivated, and, from a concurrence of fa-= 
vourable circumstances, carried to great- 
er perfection in some counties than in 
others. 
These general observations upon the 
nature of poetry, in its first acceptation, 
lead us to the consideration of the Ode—= 
a word, which in itself signifies song. It 
is not, however, our intention to enter 
into a lengthened discussion upon the 
lyre of the ancient Greeks—the associa- 
tion of music and dancing among that 
people, their Strophe, Antistrophe, and 
Peristrophe, which marked the move- 
ments adapted to accompany the person 
who held the instrument—the freedom 
with which they rawtrom one strophe to 
another, 
