at the same time infuse a portion of the sad seriousness of the philosopher.

Drink and rejoice! what comes to-morrow,

Or what the future can bestow,

Of pain or pleasure, joy or sorrow,
Men are never wise to know.

Oh! bid farewell to care and labour,
Enjoy your life while yet you may;
Impart your blessings to your neighbour,
And give your hours to frolick play.

Life is not life if free from passion,

From the wild transports love can give;
Indulge your liveliest inclination

Thus life is worth the pains to live.

But if you pass the fleeting pleasure,

And leave the luscious draught unknown,
Another claims the slighted treasure

And you have nothing of your own.

To her friend Anyta, Sappho had endeavoured by every arti fice of persuasion to transfer the love of her brother, Charaxus. This young man, while he was travelling in Egypt, for the purpose of investigating its curiosities, was ensnared by the wiles of a female of Eressus named Sappho.* In order to disentangle him

* According to some writers, the name of this lady was Dorica. Madame Dacier has ably vindicated the character of the poetess, by transferring the obloquy that has attended her, to another of the same name. Every generous feeling conspires to add strength to her plausible hypothesis.

Is it possible, says an acute critic, who is actuated by a laudable wish to rescue the memory of an amiable and lovely woman from unmerited indignity, is it possible, says he, that such a woman was a hypocrite, or that while she was reproving the vice and folly of a beloved brother, she was conscious of being the most dissolute and abandoned of her sex? No author, earlier than the Augustan age, alludes to those infamous stories which the writings of Ovid have circulated to her prejudice. Must the character of this divine poetess be loaded with every species of obloquy and reproach on so slight a foundation as the weak fancy of a profligate

from this ruinous connection she addressed him in a letter which was replete with the most tender and prudent expostulations; and she at the same time painted in glowing language the charms of Anyta with all those captivating graces of style in which she excelled. But deaf to the remonstrances of affection and the reproaches of virtue, he persevered in a series of irregularity which finally terminated his existence. From the coincidence between the names, those who envied her genius have since endeavoured to confound the courtezan with the poetess, and thus to diminish the fame of one by charging it with all the vices of the other. But, if the poetess had merited the odious picture which has been. daubed by the hands of ignorance and envy, the inhabitants of Mytilene, however they might have admired the fire and animation of her genius, would never have perpetuated her memory and their own disgrace, by stamping an impression of her head upon their coin; nor would her picture have been thus honoured by the virtuous muse of Democharis:

ON A PICTURE OF SAPPHO.

Whoe'er he was whose art this picture plann'd,
'Twas plastick nature taught his skilful hand.
The glist'ning moisture of the eye is seen,
As if the power of fancy dwelt within;
The warm carnation of the features glows
With nature's roses, shines with nature's snows;

While the bright smiles and lips' nectareous dews
Tremble with love and glisten with the muse.

And again, in the epigram on her leading the train of virgins at a festival in the temple of Juno:

Come, Lesbian maids, to Juno's stately dome,

With steps, that scarcely touch the pavement, come,

Let your own Sappho lead the lovely choir,

And to the altar bear her golden lyre.

Roman? That such a woman as the courtezan Sappho was cotemporary with the Lesbian maid, is a fact that cannot be doubted, and to her, as the biographer suggests, belongs the infamy which is usually attached to

another.

Then first in graceful order slow advance

And weave the mazes of the mystick dance:

While, plac'd on high, the heav'n rapt maid shall pour
Such strains, that men shall wonder and adore.

I have preserved a few remarks which Anacreon made about this time on the subject of poetry; and as every thing that he said upon this topick is worthy to be remembered, his observations are here inserted.

He said it had been well remarked by Aristotle, that the expression should be very much laboured in the inactive parts of a poem; as in descriptions, similes, and narratives, in which the opinions, manners and passions of men, are not represented.*

"Aristotle says that a poet ought to prefer things that are impossible, provided they be probable, to those which are possible though improbable. This rule is involved in some obscurity; but I will endeavour to explain it. A thing may be impossible and yet probable. Thus when a poet introduces a Divinity, any incident, humanly impossible, receives a full probability, by being ascribed to the skill and power of a God-thus is it that we re

*Horace, who copied most of his criticisms from Aristotle, had his eye on this rule when he wrote these lines:

Et tragicus plerumq, dolet sermone pedestri

Telephus, et Peleus, cum pauper, et exul uterq,
Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba

Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querelâ.

In the descriptions of Paradise, Milton has observed Aristotle's rule of lavishing all the ornaments of diction where the fable is not supported by beauty of sentiment and energy of character. It may be observed that in such parts, the expressions are more florid and elaborate than in most other passages of the poem; and the exuberance of his imagination has produced such a redundancy of ornament on this seat of happiness and innocence, that it would be endless, as Addison remarks, to point out each particular. See Longinus, §. 17.

This rule is still more necessary for the orator. He who would conquer in the conflicts of debate must supply all those parts where his argument is defective, by those dazzling expressions, which, like the apple of gold, seduce the opponent from the path of success.

concile the story of the transformation of the ship of the Phoacians into a rock, and the fleet of Eneas into sea nymphs. But such relations ought not to be too frequent in a poem; for it is an established rule, that all incidents which require the intervention of divinity to give them an air of probability, should be so disengaged from the action, that they might be entirely expunged without destroying its integrity. For instance, if we omit the transformation of the ship, the action of the Odyssey will retain its perfection. And therefore those episodes which are necessary, and constitute essential parts of the poem, should be founded upon man probability. Now the episodes of Circe, Polypheme, the Syrens, &c. are necessary to the action of the Odyssey; but no one will say they are within the bounds of human probability. How then shall we solve this difficulty? Homer has artificially brought them within the bounds of it. He makes Ulysses relate them before a credulous and ignorant assembly. He lets us into the character of the Phœacians by saying they were a very dull nation. Odyss. 6. v. 8.

hu

"It is thus that the poet artfully gives probability to his fables, by reciting them to a people who believed them; and yet, even here, he is not unmindful of his intelligent readers. He gives them all the pleasure that can be derived from physical or moral truths disguised under miraculous allegories, and by this method, he reconciles them with poetical probability."

“There are several heads to which probability may be reduced. Either to divinity, and then nothing is improbable, for every thing is possible to a Deity: or to our ideas of things, whether they be true or false. Thus in the descent of Ulysses into the infernal regions, there is not one word of probability or historical truth; but if we examine it by the ideas that were then entertained it becomes probable: or lastly, we may have respect to vulgar opinion or fame; for a poet is at liberty to relate a falsehood, provided it be commonly believed to be true "*

* Horace calls these stories sperious miracles.

-ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat, Antiphaten, Scyllamq. et cum Cyclope, Charybdim.

De Art. Poet.

As we returned one evening to our chambers a little incident occurred, which I must relate as it is illustrative of one of Anacreon's odes. We met a Doric youth who was playing with a waxen image of Cupid. Anacreon, whose imagination at the moment was all love, asked the boy if he would dispose of it. To this he willingly consented, saying, with a simplicity which we could not but admire, that he did not wish to keep it, as it made him think too much of other things than his studies. Anacreon gave him some money for the image, which he placed over his bed. The circumstance is commemorated in a few lines.

"Tell me, gentle youth, I pray thee,

What in purchase shall I pay thee

For this little waxen toy,

Image of the Paphian boy?"

Thus I said the other day,

To a youth who pass'd my way:
"Sir," (he answer'd, and the while
Answer'd all in Doric style,)

"Take it, for a trifle take it;

Think not yet that I could make it;

Pray, believe it was not I;

No-it cost me many a sigh,

And I can no longer keep

Little gods, who murder sleep!"

"Here, then, here," (I said with joy,)

"Here is silver for the boy:

He shall be my bosom guest,

Idol of my pious breast!"

Little Love! thou now art mine,

Longinus calls them dreams, but adds, that they are the dreams of Jupiter. To Aos avuvia. Sect. 9. See also Le Clerc's observations upon this passage in the Parhasiana. p. 26.

It is difficult to preserve with any grace the narrative simplicity of this ode, and the humour of the turn with which it concludes. I feel that the translation must appear very vapid, if not ludicrous, to an English reader.

M.