show that in the lyric we express our love of the Good, or of what is emphatically called Life,—the Love of Life. But in a loose way, it might be said, according to the Platonic doctrine, that love is life itself, life being manifested only as an activity, and love being the principle of activity. So that in the lyric, we might say that Life is in search of Life. Accept this, and it will at once be understood how the lyric, by its imagery, must create, must vivify, must personify, in short, must be metaphorical. WHAT OF THE POET? WHETHER a perfect theory of the nature of the Poet be possible or impossible, and whether we shall ever hereafter attain to such knowledge or not, it would at least require to be founded on a much wider induction of facts than we at present possess. I therefore beg that the following remarks may be regarded as an inquiry, not as a theory; an inquiry as of persons at sea, who, without sextant, or compass, or chart, ask each other wistfully where lies the nearest land. "Whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant," are the words of one who, being himself King of kings, became the Servant of servants. They are generally taken as an exhortation to lowliness in all who govern; but they mean much more: they explain the whole art and theory of government. In so far as you gain power over others you always lose power over yourself to be the master of any kingdom-earthly or unearthly—you must cease to be your own master. When this is thoroughly done, it is not enough that time, strength, and everything, heart, head, and hand be given up; you must often even forget that you have a being, and, unthinking as those stars that guide and rule us, follow the rule and guidance of your sphere. This for two reasons: because only thus can all the powers of your own mind be called forth, and because only thus can your subjects be lulled into that passive frame of mind which will admit of the strongest impressions. Men do not readily yield to a power which they see rising before their eyes, and seeking to have the mastery; not unless the power be seated already, and before they know it. Every dictator, like the dictator of ancient Rome, must win his high place in the dead of night while men are asleep. Such is a most general description of that necessity which all the rulers of mankind, including the poet, obey; and out of it arise two questions. Is it not degrading to admit such a necessity? some will ask; and, if the necessity be admitted, all will ask for further information as to its nature. Let us examine these questions. It may be said that without self-government the sovereign man of whom we speak must be a mere engine, the poet, a puppet; and indeed Plato, for the very purpose of lowering the poet, endeavours to show that he is possessed, not self-possessed. This is to renew an |