pidity, as argues an
uncommon warmth of imagination in the bard, whose mind seems to have been
so filled with his subject, and the several scenes of the war appear to
have so crowded in upon him, that he has not leisure to mark the
transitions with that cool accuracy, which a feebler genius would have
been careful to have done. It is one continued fiery torrent of poetic
flame, which, like the eruptions of Etna, bears down all opposition.

You must pardon me if I think your critical friend quite mistaken in his
remarks on this ode. He confounds two species of poetry as distinct and
different as black and white. Epic poetry delights in circumstance, and
it is only in proportion as it is circumstantial that it has merit; the
very essence of it (as its name implies) is narration. So a narrative,
devoid of all circumstances, must be very jejune, confused, and
unsatisfactory. But here lies the great art of the epic poet,--that he
can be minute and circumstantial without descending from the sublime, or
exciting other than grand and noble ideas. Thus, when Homer describes
the stone, which Diomede threw at AEneas, had be only told us in general
terms, that it was a large one,

[Greek text]

had he stopped here, as many an inferior poet would have done, should we
have had so great an idea of the hero's strength or vigour, as when he
adds the following particular and striking circumstances?

[Greek text].

Iliad E. 1.304.

On the other hand, it is the essence of ode to neglect circumstance,
being more confin'd in its plan, and having the sublime equally for its
object. In order to attain this, it is obliged to deal in general terms,
to give only such hints as will forcibly strike the imagination, from
which we may infer the particulars ourselves. It is no demerit or
disparagement in your bard to have neglected the minute circumstances of
the battle, because it would have been impossible for him to have
described them within the narrow limits of his ode. Here lies his great
merit, that he hints, he drops, and the images he throws out, supply the
absence of a more minute detail, and excite as grand ideas as the best
description could have done. And so far I agree with your critical
friend, that no poet ever hit upon a grander image than that of "_A Menai
heb drai o drallanw_," &c., nor could take a nobler method to excite our
admiration at the prodig