A Neglected Example
of Eighteenth Century Philosophical Poetry?
Virginia Sampson
Investigations into the poetic career of James Beattie have traditionally been limited to his most successful poem, “The Minstrel”; or, “The Progress of Genius” (1771/4), which has led to a simplification of his poetic talent and influence. A poem which has received slight critical attention, [1] but is nonetheless essential to a full understanding of Beattie’s developing career, is his first philosophical poem: “The Judgement of Paris” (1765). It occupied Beattie’s poetic imagination for many months up to its anonymous publication in pamphlet form only four years after his initial volume of poetry. The poem received little critical attention since the author was publicly unknown, and Beattie did not acknowledge the poem openly until his second volume of poetry, Poems on Several Subjects (1766). It is Beattie’s most ambitious poetic expression up to this point in his career; and his first extended attempt to utilise poetry as a vehicle for philosophical expression.
His ability to express the philosophical ideas he sets forth in the preface to the poem are the first symptom of the frustration that expresses itself in the “The Minstrel” and which partly explains that poem’s abrupt ending. Beattie finds the conventions of poetry too limiting for his skill; the poem illustrates Beattie’s frustration with poetry as a vehicle for the intricate philosophical ideas he introduces in the preface. The thwarted development of the philosophical ideas foreshadows the antagonistic relationship between philosophy and poetry which Beattie confronts in “The Minstrel.” Despite the frustration of Beattie’s ambitious philosophical intentions, the poem is a well crafted use of ancient allegory to explore moral preoccupations of the time, such as the nature of ambition, luxury, and the desire for sensual pleasures in place of piety and virtuous self-denial. Naturally his plans and ambitions for the poem occupy many of his letters during the period of its composition and publication, illustrating his high expectations for its reception among his friends, and among the public at large. His motivations for this poem’s composition are made clear in a letter to Robert Arbuthnot: “Though instruction be no essential part of Poetry, yet I think they ought never to be disjoined. The poet, both in choosing his subject, and in laying down his plan, should have an eye to Morality.” [2] His intentions mirror those of Alexander Pope’s “Essay on Man,” which provided Beattie with a model for his own philosophical poem.
It is interesting that Beattie characterises the poem
as an “Essay” (iv) in his explicating preface, which is reminiscent of the
“Essay on
The poem did not receive much revision between the first publication as a pamphlet and its subsequent version in Poems on Several Subjects. Given the great care and attention Beattie gave to the poem for its 1765 debut it is understandable that a year later there would be few significant changes needed to suit the author’s plan. Beattie’s preface to the poem for the pamphlet version is included in PSS, and it reflects many of the sentiments he expressed to Arbuthnot. In it Beattie is able to express his philosophical ideas clearly in the preface, but they do not all find expression in the poem. The preface opens with an explanation of the doctrine Beattie plans to explicate in the poem. He begins with the nature of virtuous self-denial, the idea that “whatever course of life we pursue, we must forego some gratifications, if we hope to attain others” (iii). He then turns to sensual pleasure, and the characteristics of virtue and ambition. He argues, “Virtue hath a natural tendency to produce, and is perfectly consistent with the amplest and most diffusive gratification of our Whole Nature” (iv).
Conversely, “The pursuit of Ambition, or of Sensual Pleasure, can promise only partial happiness; being adapted, not to our whole constitution, but only to a part of it” (iv). These two systems of argument concerning pleasure and self-denial are clearly stated, but find no clear expression in the poem. The preface does explain the overarching thematic elements of the poem, and vindicates his use of a pagan myth to his Christian audience. It is this contention between varying kinds of pleasure and levels of fulfilment Beattie explores in the poem. The failure of the poem to provide a comprehensive exploration of the philosophical issues raised in the preface presents us with Beattie’s first frustrations with the limitations of poetry as a vehicle for intelligent expression. This initial frustration will have lasting effects upon the further development of Beattie’s career.
The poem
opens with
Juno “the Empress of the skies” (118) is given the first appeal to
That fires, alarms, impels the maddening soul;
The hero’s eye, hence, kindling into scorn,
Blasts the proud menace, and defies controul” (137-40).
It becomes the driving force within the hero’s breast, guiding all his actions in pursuit of its goal. Ambition is an all-consuming element, which leads to an eclipse of all virtue within the soul. Although ambition can sometimes be a great asset it must be checked by virtue, because “unimprov’d, Heav’n’s noblest boons are vain” (141). In fact, by championing the cause of ambition Juno also exposes its flaws. Juno holds up the products of ambition as selfish vanity: “Vain then, th’enlivening sound of Fame’s alarms, / For Hope’s exulting impulse prompts no more; / Vain even the joys that lure to pleasure’s arms” (161-63). The warnings and cautions of virtue are overshadowed by the lust ambition plants in the soul.
The following speech belongs to the goddess Pallas, who “recommends Virtue,
[which Beattie considers to be synonymous with knowledge] as being that which
gratifies our whole nature, and the perfection of it.”
[7]
It is wisdom that will lead Paris from the dangers
of ambition and war, but wisdom can only be found in calm scenery by a mind
mild and open to receive it: “Rage, ecstasy, alike disclaim her power, / She
wooes each gentler impulse of the breast” (227-28). The landscape of the poem
is fitting for such enlightenment, but the mind and heart of
Explore thy heart, that rous’d by glory’s name
Pants all enraptur’d with mighty charm---
And does Ambition quench each milder flame?
And is it conquest that alone can warm?” (243-44).
To prove this true to Paris the goddess then recounts the consequences of ambition in war. Implicitly undercutting Juno’s argument, Pallas asks if wars that “drench the balmy lawn in
steaming
gore” (246) and leave maids weeping, “Her love for ever from her bosom torn”
(252) can bring
Venus, on the contrary “recommends Primarily and directly Pleasure, because life is short,” [8] the argument of the Epicureans Beattie had encountered in Lucretius. Venus first turns to wars, disclaiming them because their end result is not pleasure: “Joyless and cruel are the warrior’s spoils, / Dreary the path stern Virtue’s sons ascend” (376). This is the first time in the poem any goddess has specifically made a negative reference to the life of the virtuous. Ambition is called into question not because it alters the noble heart and mind, but because its difficulty to attain brings no pleasure: “why should man pursue the charms of Fame, / For ever luring, yet for ever coy?” (389-90). The argument against ambition is not because it is adverse to virtue, but rather because it does not satisfy the human need for pleasure. Venus reasons that violence sparked by ambition can never bring pleasure and so she urges:
Let not my Prince forego the peaceful shade,
The whispering grove, the fountain and the plain.
Power, with th’oppressive weight of pomp array’d,
Pants for simplicity and ease in vain (437-40).
This setting
is conducive to pleasures of Venus, where virtue and pleasure are able to
coexist. Venus does advocate virtue in
“The Judgement of Paris” is Beattie’s first poem that openly attempts to advance a moral stance. It is an important shift in his poetical thought, because it shows his personal understanding of his role as a poet, to please and instruct his readers by whatever apparatus is most effective. The discrepancy between the philosophy presented in the preface and that of the poem illustrate the limitations Beattie perceived in his use of poetry as a vehicle for moral instruction. The poem represents an important beginning in Beattie’s poetic career, a movement from translations and elegies into complicated philosophical themes, by infusing an ancient narrative with contemporary moral issues. “The Judgement of Paris” represents a turning point in Beattie’s career, one which will reach its climax in the composition of “The Minstrel.”
[1]
The bibliographical history of the poem and its variations
are printed in Roger Robinson, “The Poetry of James Beattie: A Critical
Edition.” Diss. , U of
[2]
Beattie to Robert Arbuthnot,
[3]
Alexander Pope, The Poems of Alexander
Pope: A One Volume Edition of the Twickenham Pope. Ed. John Butt (
[4]
Ibid.
[5]
Harry M. Solomon, The Rape of the
Text: Reading and Misreading Pope’s Essay on Man (Tuscaloosa: U of Alabama
Press, 1993) 57.
[6]
Beattie to Robert Arbuthnot,
[7]
Ibid.
[8]
Ibid.
[9]
His knowledge of the Epicurean philosophy
evident from his translation of the invocation of Venus from De Rerum
Natura in 1760. Beattie questions the tenets of Lucretius’s philosophical
poetry through his own composition,
but he is not yet very effectively explicating the philosophical ideas he
recounts in the preface.
Works Cited
Beattie, James. The
Judgement of
--- to
Robert Arbuthnot, 20 October 1764. National
Library of
Fettercairn
Pope, Alexander. The
Poems of Alexander Pope. A one-volume edition of the
Twickenham text with selected
annotations. Ed. John Butt.
Robinson, Roger. The Poetry of James Beattie: A Critical Edition.
Diss., U of
1997.
Solomon, Harry M. The
Rape of the Text:
Man.
To my mind, there is no inherent contradiction between poetry and philosophy
in eighteenth-century culture: Beattie’s poem is ‘unsuccessful’ because
at this stage of his career he was not a very assured poet. His poetic master
in terms of phraseology and rhythm is Thomas Gray, but Gray is much better
at building intellectual debate into his poetry. His ‘Ode on the Spring’,
for example, considers the merits of contemplative and active lifestyles
in ways that have some application to the lives of real people. Most people,
after all, are not faced with the dilemma posed to Paris, of choosing between
lives exclusively made up of heroism, virtue or hedonism. The phoniness
of the choice put to Paris seems to me to be neither good poetry nor good
philosophy.