Homer embodied the ideal perfection of his
age in human character; nor can we doubt that those who read his verses
were awakened to an ambition of becoming like to Achilles, Hector, and
Ulysses: the truth and beauty of friendship, patriotism, and persevering
devotion to an object, were unveiled to the depths in these immortal
creations: the sentiments of the auditors must have been refined and
enlarged by a sympathy with such great and lovely impersonations, until
from admiring they imitated, and from imitation they identified
themselves with the objects of their admiration. Nor let it be objected
that these characters are remote from moral perfection, and that they
can by no means be considered as edifying patterns for general
imitation. Every epoch, under names more or less specious, has deified
its peculiar errors; Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a
semi-barbarous age; and Self-deceit is the veiled image of unknown
evil, before which luxury and satiety lie prostrate. But a poet
considers the vices of his contemporaries as the temporary dress in
which his creations must be arrayed, and which cover without concealing
the eternal proportions of their beauty.
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