No. CLXXVIII.

Cursory and unconnected Remarks on some of the Minor Greek Poets.

THE intrinsic graces of the classic writers have charmed every mind which was susceptible of the beauties of spirit, taste, and elegance. Since the revival of learning, innumerable critics have employed themselves in displaying the beauties which they felt, or in removing the difficulties and obstructions which retarded their progress in the perusal of the ancients. At present, there is scarcely any room for criticism on the ancients: and the most laborious Commentator finds, with regret, his profoundest researches, and his acutest remarks, anticipated by the lucubrations of former critics; but as there is scarcely a greater difference between the features of the face than between the faculties of the mind in different men, and as objects must strike various feelings in various manners, the works of taste and genius may, on different views, furnish inexhaustible matter for critical observation. Upon this principle, authors, of the present age, venture to add to the labours of their predecessors, without fearing or incurring the imputation of vanity or impertinence.

The present remarks shall be confined to some of the Greek Minor Poets, without minutely attending to chronological or any other order.

In the union of dignity with sweetness, of melody with strength, the Greek is better adapted to beautiful composition, than any modern language. The

French possesses elegance and expression, but is deficient in sound and dignity. The English is strong, nervous, flowery, fit for animated oratory and enthusiastic poetry, but abounds with Saxon monosyllables, ill adapted to express the music of mellifluous cadence. To compare the Dutch and the German with the language of Athens, were to compare the jarring noise of grating iron with the soft warblings of the flute. The other languages of Europe are equally unfit for harmonious modulation, and indeed cannot properly be examined in this place, as the people, who speak them, have not yet distinguished themselves by any writings truly

classical.

The Greek Epigram naturally falls first under our present consideration. Of these little compositions, which owe their origin to Greece, none can be insensible of the beauty, whose taste is not vitiated by the less delicate wit of the modern Epi grammatist. Indeed, to relish the simple graces of the Greek Epigram, the taste must not be formed upon the model even of the celebrated Martial. Among the Latin poets, Catullus approaches nearest to the Greeks in this species of composition.

The Anthologiæ still extant, are written by various authors, and there are scarcely sufficient Epigrams of any one, to discriminate his manner from that of others. Suffice it to remark in general, that their beauty does not consist in a point, or witty conceit, but in a simplicity of thought, and a sweetness of language.

The golden verses of Pythagoras, though not remarkable for splendour of diction, or flowing. versification, are yet highly beautiful in the concise and forcible mode of inculcating morality, and virtues almost Christian. The earlier philosophers of

because they aspired to the character of poets, as because precepts, delivered in metre, were more easily retained in the memory of their disciples. Pythagoras has comprised every necessary rule for the conduct of life in this little poem, and he that commits it to memory will not want a guide to direct his behaviour under any event; but though the morality of these verses is their more valuable beauty, yet are they by no means destitute of poetical merit.

That generosity of soul, which ever accompanies true genius, has induced the poets and philosophers, of all ages, to stand forth in the cause of liberty. Alcæus, of whose merits from the monuments of antiquity we may form the most exalted idea, first raised himself to eminence by a poem, intituled Stasiotica, a violent invective against Pittacus, at that time the tyrant of Athens. It has not escaped the general wreck, and we have only a few broken specimens of this celebrated writer's works preserved by the ancient grammarians. We must, therefore, be contented to learn his character from the judicious Quintilian, and the learned Dionysius of Halicarnassus: the former of whom asserts, that he was concise, sublime, accurate, and in many respects resembled Homer; the latter that he had a grandeur, brevity, and sweetness, equally blended throughout all his compositions.

Stesichorus, according to Quintilian, was remarkable for strength of genius. He gave to lyric poetry all the solemnity of the Epopee. Had he known how to restrain the impetuosity of his genius, it is said, he would have rivaled Homer: but unfortunately, the noble warmth of his temper urged him beyond the bounds of just writing, and he seems to have failed of excellence by a redundancy of

The fragments of Menander are sufficiently excellent to induce every votary of learning to regret the loss of his works. Some indeed have thought, that time never gave a greater blow to polite literature, than in the destruction of the Comedies of Menander: but as Terence has preserved his spirit and his style, perhaps the want of the original is compensated by the exact copyings of that elegant author. Quintilian, from whose judgment there is scarcely an appeal, has represented Menander as alone sufficient to form our taste and style. The few remains, preserved by Stobæus, whether the beauty of the sentiments or the purity of the diction be regarded, must be pronounced uncommonly excellent. They are, however, too generally known to require illustration.

Simonides is characterized, by Longinus, as a poet remarkable for the pathetic. Of his writings, very few have survived the injuries of time. The little poem on Danäe is, however, sufficient to justify the judgment of Longinus. Nothing can be more delicately tender, or more exquisitely pathetic. There is something inexpressibly pleasing to the mind, in the representation of a mother addressing a sleeping infant unconscious of its danger, with all the endearing blandishments of maternal fond

ness.

The other remarkable poem of this author, which time has spared, is of a very different kind. It is a satire on Women, and is well known by a prosaic translation of it, inserted in the Essays of a celebrated modern writer.

Alcman of Laconia is another melancholy instance of the depredations which the hand of time has made on the most valuable works of antiquity. Of this author, once celebrated throughout Greece, quoted by the learned, and repeated by the fair,

scarcely the name is known in the present age. Athenæus, Hephæstion, the scholiast on Pindar, Eustathius, and Plutarch have vindicated him from absolute oblivion, by preserving a few of his fragments. Love verses, which since his time have employed some of the greatest writers, and have been admired by the most sensible readers, were of his invention. All who preceded him had invariably written in Hexameter. He subjoined the elegiac verse, and may justly claim the honour of having invented that species of poetry, which Ovid and the other Latin elegiac Writers have since advanced to a most pleasing species of composition.

Archilochus wrote iambics and elegiacs; the former, satirical; the latter, amorous. That he succeeded in his attempts, we have sufficient reason to conclude from the testimonies of the greatest critics of antiquity, Horace and Longinus. There is not enough of him remaining, to enable us to form a judgment of the impartiality of their decision, and we must be contented to acquiesce in their authority.

Lucian says, in one of his Dialogues, that the poets have given Jupiter many of his most pompous epithets, merely for the sake of a sonorous word to fill up a verse. The hymns of Orpheus abound with these expletives: and the reader is often disgusted with sounding verse almost destitute of sense. If, however, they were composed for music, they may pass uncensured by some: for it seems to have been generally and most absurdly agreed, and it is observable at this day, that very little attention is to be paid to the words of Operas, Odes, and Songs, which are written merely for music. The poems of Orpheus, if those which are extant are like all his productions, would certainly move no stones. What