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This delicious inebriation of the imagination occasioned the ancients, who sometimes perceived the effects, to believe it was not short of divine inspiration. Fielding says, “I do not doubt but that the most pathetic and affecting scenes have been writ with tears.” He perhaps would have been pleased to have confirmed his observation by the following circumstances. The tremors of Dryden, after having written an Ode, a circumstance tradition has accidentally handed down, were not unusual with him; in the preface to his Tales he tells us, that in translating Homer he found greater pleasure than in Virgil; but it was not a pleasure without pain; the continual agitation of the spirits must needs be a weakener to any constitution, especially in age, and many pauses are required for refreshment betwixt the heats. In writing the ninth scene of the second act of the Olimpiade, Metastasio found himself in tears; an effect which afterwards, says Dr. Burney, proved very contagious. It was on this occasion that that tender poet commemorated the circumstance in the following interesting sonnet:–

SONNET FROM METASTASIO.

“Scrivendo l’Autore in Vienna l’anno 1733 la sua Olimpiade si senti commosa fino alle lagrime nell’ esprimere la divisione di due teneri amici: e meravigliandosi che un falso, e da lui inventato disastro, potesse cagionargli una si vera passione, si fece a riflettere quanto poco ragionevole e solido fondamento possano aver le altre che soglion frequentamente agitarci, nel corso di nostra vita.

Sogni e favole io fingo, e pure in carte
Mentre favole, e sogni, orno e disegno,
In lor, (folle ch’ io son!) prendo tal parte
Che del mal che inventai piango, e mi sdegno.
Ma forse allor che non m’ inganna l’arte,
Piu saggio io sono e l’agitato ingegno
Forse allo piu tranquillo? O forse parte
Da piu salda cagion l’amor, lo sdegno?
Ah che non sol quelle, ch’io canto, o scrivo
Favole son; ma quanto temo, o spero,
Tutt’ e manzogna, e delirando io vivo!
Sogno della mia vita e il corso intero.
Deh tu, Signor, quando a destarmi arrivo
Fa, ch’io trovi riposo in sen del VERO.

In 1733, the Author, composing his Olimpiade, felt himself suddenly moved, even to tears, in expressing the separation of two tender lovers. Surprised that a fictitious grief, invented too by himself, could raise so true a passion, he reflected how little reasonable and solid a foundation the others had, which, so frequently agitated us in this state of our existence.

SONNET–IMITATED.

Fables and dreams I feign; yet though but verse
The dreams and fables that adorn this scroll,
Fond fool! I rave, and grieve as I rehearse;
While GENUINE TEARS for FANCIED SORROWS roll.
Perhaps the dear delusion of my heart
Is wisdom; and the agitated mind,
As still responding to each plaintive part,
With love and rage, a tranquil hour can find.
Ah! not alone the tender RHYMES I give
Are fictions: but my FEARS and HOPES I deem
Are FABLES all; deliriously I live,
And life’s whole course is one protracted dream.
Eternal Power! when shall I wake to rest
This wearied brain on TRUTH’S immortal breast?