SEWARD.
And so, sir, the pomp of a Cathedral is described, though a village Church alone is in presence. So Milton, Cromwell, and other great powers are set in array—that which these were not, against that which those were.
NORTH.
Yet hear Dr Thomas Brown—an acute metaphysician—but an obtuse critic—and no Poet at all. "The two images in this stanza ('Full many a gem,' &c.,) certainly produce very different degrees of poetical delight. That which is borrowed from the rose blooming in solitude pleases in a very high degree, both as it contains a just and beautiful similitude, and still more as the similitude is one of the most likely to have arisen in such a situation. But the simile in the two first lines of the stanza, though it may perhaps philosophically be as just, has no other charm, and strikes us immediately as not the natural suggestion of such a moment and such a scene. To a person moralising amid a simple Churchyard, there is perhaps no object that would not sooner have occurred than this piece of minute jewellery—'a gem of purest ray serene, in the unfathomed caves of ocean.'"
SEWARD.
A person moralising! He forgot that person was Thomas Gray. And he never knew what you have told us now.
NORTH.
Why, my dear Seward, the Gem is the recognised most intense expression, from the natural world, of worth—inestimable priceless price—dependent on rarity and beauty. The Flower is a like intense expression, from the same world, of the power to call forth love. The first image is felt by every reader to be high, and exalting its object; the second to be tender, and openly pathetic. Of course it moves more, and of course it comes last. The Poet has just before spoken of Milton and Cromwell—of bards and kings—and history with all her wealth. Is the transition violent from these objects to Gems? He is moved by, but he is not bound to, the scene and time. His own thoughts emancipate. Brown seems utterly to have forgotten that the Poet himself is the Dramatic person of the Monologue. Shall he be restricted from using the richness and splendour of his own thoughts? That one stanza sums up the two or three preceding—and is perfectly attuned to the reigning mood, temper, or pathos.
BULLER.
Thank you, gentlemen. The Doctor is done brown.