ART. II. Britannia a National Epic Poem, in Twenty Books. To which is prefixed, a Critical Dissertation on Epic Machinery. By John Ogilvie, D. D. F.R.S. Edinburgh. 4to. Printed at Aberdeen. 1801. PP. 623. TE HE momentous period, which we have for some time contemplated, has rendered us familiar with great events. The examination of an Epic Poem was formerly a task of importance, which required much expenditure of critical oil; and which occurred so seldom, that it formed a kind of era in our labours but circumstances are now greatly changed: epic poems are become" as plenty as blackberries," and are seldom longer lived than the constitution of a republic, or the celebrity of a German drama. Our expectations, therefore, are not much more excited by this title, than by one which announces a more humble and unpretending form of composition. On these occasions, indeed, we sometimes have recourse to the physiognomy of the book; and when this presents nothing conclusive, we are much gratified if the author courteously permits us to study his own effigy in front of his work. In this respect, Dr. Ogilvie has been particularly kind; since he has obliged us with a three-quarters representation of his person, from a comparison of which with the effigies of the great Epic Poets, some conjecture may be formed respecting his powers. The preliminary dissertation contains a defence of the necessity of Epic Machinery, in opposition to Mr. Hayley. We confess that this vindication appears to be unnecessary: the best answer to Mr. Hayley's doubts would have been found in a composition framed on the antient model, with the power and effect of antient poetry; and we are much inclined to impute the ill success of modern epic writers to a want of poetical energy, rather than to their employment of classical machinery. Indeed, if the propriety of admitting such imagery has not been already established by the several critics on the three great Epic Poems, it is in vain to repeat their observations: but, if the strength of the moderns be unequal to the ponderous arms of the antients, there is some wisdom in chusing more manageable weapons. "The weaker warrior takes a lighter shield," according to Mr. Pope's translation; and to those who would accommodate the plan of epic poetry to the present state of Genius, we may apply the proverb, that he who cannot be an Erasmus must think of becoming a Eishop. In reality, Dr. Ogilvie has adopted a system of machinery of an intermediate kind, by following Dryden's invention of A a 4 the the agency of Guardian Angels; a species of beings to which the century before the last allowed some degree of credit. They are now as much superannuated as the heathen mythology, and must principally depend, for their effect, on the talents of the mind which puts them in motion. In Dryden's time, this idea would have had the merit of novelty; in our's, it could only succeed by being happily carried into execution. As the author has thus departed from the classical models, he ought to have spared his censure of the enchanters and elfin knights of Ariosto and Spenser. Their poems require neither apologies in prose, nor volumes of annotations, in order to be read and admired; and indeed, if the admissibility of supernatural agency be once conceded, the Durindana of Orlando stands on the same footing with the celestial armour of Achilles. The story of Dr. Ogilvie's Poem is the establishment of a Trojan colony, under Brutus, in this island; one of those fictions which admit sufficient interest and ornament to justify the choice of the Poet, and to which the present taste for black-letter reading is particularly favorable. It is written in blank verse; the employment of which the author vindicates, in his preliminary dissertation, against the objections of Dr. Johnson. On this question of the comparison of rhime with blank verse, we shall only observe that whatever is the best poetry is the best of either. If an author can write such heroic verse as that of Milton or Shakspeare, he may safely leave his performance to the protection of its own merits. Dr. Johnson, we believe, has made very few converts on this subject. One rule of the Epopeia, however, has been infringed by the present author. It has been understood that the agency of superior beings should only be introduced on important occasions: but, in the poem before us, the supernatural personages are in a state of constant activity. The Guardian Angel of the country descries the approach of the Trojan fleet from the rocks, which any good pair of human eyes might have perceived; and she afterward appears to the invaders in the disguise of a shepherd, to inform them that they have landed on an island, a truth which they might have previously guessed, and that they will be opposed by a race of giants,-a fable for which we can discover no occasion. The good and evil spirits, after the action commences, become so very busy, that the intended heroes of the piece shrink into mere puppets, and inspire the reader with no interest in their conduct or destiny. In other respects, the fable of the poem is not liable to objection; and the author displays, on many occasions, good sense and erudition The vital principle of poetry, however, is wanting; and the machinery and classical allusions of Dr. Ogilvie have the same resemblance to the verse of Homer and Milton, which a leaden statue, fresh from Piccadilly, bears to the sculpture of Phidias or Praxiteles. For this inferiority, we do not mean to blame the author: we are truly sorry that our duty obliges us to point out his poetical defects; and we should certainly have received much. more pleasure from reading as well as from criticizing his work, if it had been intitled to higher commendation. We have industriously looked for passages of merit, and we shall not fail to produce some of those which gave us more satisfaction than the rest. The invocation, at the opening of the poem, affords a good specimen of the respectable mediocrity which we have ascribed to this writer's talents: Thou Power ethereal, by whatever name Thine ear propitious!-When th' Eternal call'd Down the long vale, where Time's evolving forms In ages yet unborn; by Thee inspir'd, O'er climes remote she spreads her Country's fame. And through the shade that wraps the first of days Now swarms. The monarch of the waste she eyes, Anon Anon re-echoing. There a mightier race Gnash their white tusks, and lashing in their rage We shall now introduce one of Dr. Ogilvie's supernatural personages: Though back recoiling, as he eyed the Power Shot from his eyes, and flitting o'er his sword The blue gleam trembled, as from sulphurous ore.' From this sulphureous light, the apparition might perhaps be deemed by the author characteristically national. Bloating the noon is not an English expression; nor is our word bloated, which has a sense different from that intended by the author, ever used but as an adjective. Perhaps Dr. O. meant to write blotting the noon,' in allusion to Milton's sublime expression of radiant files dazzling the moon.-A simile, in the same book, was evidently written with a view to Milton's imagery: As when two clouds, with elemental flame Impregn'd, on heaven's aerial concave mix In night portentous; and the solemn peal, Slow rolling o'er the void, proclaims their war By dreadful intervals! while all beneath Shakes at each blast, and mortals deem the Lord The reader may compare this passage with that of our divine poet: "As when two black clouds With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on Over the Caspian, then stand front to front, We shall next transcribe another of Dr. Ogilvie's similes, from a battle-scene: As when the North from all her mountains pours This passage is certainly intitled to some credit: but the author has lessened its effect by representing his giant, in the succeeding lines, as swearing at the head of his troops :blaspheming heaven.' Another simile, in the same book, appears not very illustrative of its object; though, in point of mere language, it is one of the best written passages in the poem: As when the sun on India's favour'd clime His charge with heedful eye. Soft on his wings, A long |