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UNIVERSITY 
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ELEMENTS 


O    F 


CRITICISM.     \ 

VOLUME      ir.  > 


The  FIFTH   EDITION,  J 


With  Additions  and  Improvements. 


.^ 


DUBLIN: 

Ptinted  by  CHARLES  INGHAH  ^4 
Skinner-Row,  m^dcc^lxxii^ 


INTRODUCTION. 


THAT  nothing  external  is  perceired  till  firfl:  It 
make  an  imprefrion  upon  the  organ  of  fcnfe,  is 
an  obfervation  that  holds  equally  in  every  one  of  the 
external  fenfes.  But  there  is  a  difference  as  to  our  know- 
ledge of  that  inipreflion :  in  touching,  tafting,  and 
fnielHng,  we  are  feniihle  of  the  imprefllon ;  that,  foe 
example,  which  is  made  upon  the  hand  by  a  tlone,  up- 
on the  palate  by  an  apricot,  and  upon  the  noftrils  by  3 
rofe ;  it  is  otherwife  in  feeing  and  hearing ;  for  I  am 
not  fentible  of  the  imprefllon  ntiade  upon  my  eye,  when  ' 
I  behold  a  tree  ;  nor  of  the  imprefllon  made  upon  my 
ear,  when  I  liften  to  a  fong*.  This  difference  in  the 
manner  of  perceiving  external  objects,  diftingui/heth  re- 
markably hearing  and  feeing  from  the  other  fenfes  j  and 
1  am  ready  to  fhew,  that  it  diftinguilheth  ftill  more  re- 
markably the  feelings  of  the  former  from  thofe  of  the 
latter  :  every  feeling,  pleafant  or  painful,  muft  be  in 
the  mind  ;  and  yet  becaufe  in  tafting,  touching,  and 
fmelling,  we  are  fenfible  of  the  imprefllon  made  upon 
the  organ,  we  unavoidably  place  there  alfo  the  pleafant: 
or  painful  feeling  cau fed  by  that  imprefllon  f  :  but  with 
rel'pect   to  feeing  and  hearing,  being  infenfible  of  the 

organic 

*  See  the  Appendix,  §  13. 

f  After  the  utmotl  efforts,  we  find  it  beyond  out 
power  to  conceive  the  flavour  of  the  rofe  to  exift  in 
the  mind :  we  are  neceffarily  led  to  conceive  that  plea- 
fure  as  exiiling  in  the  noftrils  along  with  the  imprefllon 
made  by  the  rofe  upon  that  organ.  And  the  fame  v/ill 
be  the  refult  of  experiments  with  refpe6t  to  every  feel- 
ing of  tafte,  touch,  and  fmell.  Touch  affords  the  moft 
fatisfatStory  exp'^riments.  Were  it  not  that  the  deluft- 
on  is  detected  by  philofophy,  no  perfon  would  hefitato 
to  pronounce,  that  the  pleafure  arifing  from  touching 
a  fmooth,  foft,  and  velvet  furface,  has  its  exiftcHce  at 
the  ends  of  the  fingers,  without  once  dreaming  of  its, 
exifting  any  where  eiie. 


u  INTRODUCTION. 

organic  impreflion,  vvc  are  not  mifled  to  afllgn  a  v/rong 
place  to  the  pleafant  or  painful  feelings  caufed  by  that 
impreflion  ;  and  therefore  we  naturally  place  them  in 
the  mind,  where  they  really  are  :  upon  that  account, 
they  are  conceived  to  be  more  refined  and  fpiritual,  than 
v^hat  are  derived  from  tailing,  touching,  and  fmelling. ; 
for  the  latter  feelings  feeming  to  exift  externally  at  the 
organ  of  fenfe,  are  conceived  to  be  merely  corporeal. 

The  pleafuics  of  the  eye  and  the  ear  being  thus  ele- 
vated above  thofe  of  the  other  external  fenfes,  acquire 
fo  much  dignity  as  to  become  a  laudable  entertainment. 
They  are  not,  however,  fet  upon  a  level  wirh  rhe  pure- 
ly intellectual ;  being  not  lefs  inferior  in  dignity  to  in- 
tellectual pleafures,  than  fuperior  to  the  organic  or  cor- 
poreal :  they  indeed  refemble  the  lartei,  being,  like 
them,  produced  by  external  objects  ;  but  they  alfo  re- 
femble the  former,  being,  like  them,  produced  without 
any  fenfible  organic  impreflion.  Their  mixt  natuie  and 
middle  place  between  organic  and  intellectual  pleafures, 
qualify  them  to  aflx)ciate  with  both  :  beauty  heightens 
all  the  organic  feelings,  as  well  as  the  intelleilual :  har- 
mony, though  it  afpires  to  inflame  devotion,  difdains 
not  to  improve  the  relifli  of  a  banquet. 

The  pleafures  of  tlve  eye  and  the  ear  have  other  va- 
luable properties  befide  thofe  of  dignity  and  elevation  : 
being  fweet  and  moderately  exhilarating,  they  are  in 
their  tone  equally  diftant  from  the  turbulence  of  pafll- 
on,  and  the  languor  of  indolence ;  and  by  that  tone  are 
perfectly  well  qualified,  not  only  to  revive  the  fpirits 
when  funk  by  fenfual  gratificaiion,  but  alfo  to  relax 
them  when  overftrained  in  any  violent  purfuit.  Here 
is  a  remedy  provided  for  many  diftrefl'es ;  and  to  be  con- 
vinced of  its  falutary  effefts,  it  will  be  fuflicient  to  run 
over  the  following  particulars.  Organic  pleafures  have 
naturally  a  fliort  duration  ;  when  prolonged,  they  lofe 
their  reli(h  ;  when  indulged  to  excefs,  they  bege-  fatie- 
ly  and  difguft :  and  to  relieve  us  from  fuch  uneafinefs, 
nothing  can  be  more  happily  contrived  than  the  exhila- 
rating pleafures  of  the  eye  and  ear,  which  take  place 
imperceptibly,  without  much  varying  the  tone  of  mind. 
On  ihe  other  hand,  any  intenfe  exercife  of  intelUctual 
powers,  becomes  pauitul   by  overllraiiiing   the  mind  : 

'  cefl^ation 


INTRODUCTION.  iii 

ceffation  from  fuch  exercrfe  gives  not  inftant  relief;  it 
is  neceflary  that  the  void  be  filled  vf'ith  fome  amnfement, 
gently  relaxing  the  fpirits  *  :  organic  pleafure,  which 
hath  no  relifii  but  while  we  are  in  vigour,  is  ill  qualifi- 
ed for  that  office  j  but  the  finer  pleafures  of  fenfe, 
which  occupy  without  exhaufting  the  mind,  are  excel- 
lently well  qualified  to  reftore  its  ufual  tone  after  fevere 
application  to  ftudy  or  bufinefs,  as  v/eli  as  after  fatiety 
from  fenfual  gratification. 

Our  firil  percepMons  are  of  external  objedls,  and  our 
fitft  attachments  are  to  them.  Organic  pleafures  take 
the  kad  :  but  the  mind,  gradually  ripening,  reliflieth 
more  and  more  the  pleafures  of  the  eye  and  ear ;  w<hich 
approach  the  purely  mental,  without  exhaufting  the 
fpirits  ;  and  exceed  the  purely  fenfual,  without  danger 
of  fatiety.  The  pleafures  of  the  eye  and  ear  have  ac-« 
cordingly  a  natural  aptitude  to  draw  us  from  the  immo- 
derate gratification  of  fenfual  appetite;  and  the  mind, 
once  accullomed  to  enjoy  a  variety  of  external  objedts 
without  being  fenfible  of  the  organic  impreflion,  is  pre- 
pared for  enjoying  internal  objects  where  there  cannoC 
be  an  organic  impreffion.  Thus  the  author  of  nature, 
by  qualifying  the  human  mind  for  a  fuccefllon  of  en- 
joyments from  lov/  to  high,  leads  it  by  gentle  fteps  from 
the  moft  groveling  corporeal  pleafures,  for  which  only 
it  is  fitted  in  the  beginning  of  life,  to  thofe  refined  and 
fublimc  pleafures  which  are  fuited  to  its  maturity. 

But  we  are  not  bound  down  to  this  fucceffion  by  any 
law  of  neceffity  :  the  God  of  nature  offers  it  to  us,  in 
order  to  advance  our  happinefs  ;  and  it  is  fufficient,  that 
he  hath  enabled  us  to  carry  it  on  in  a  natural  courfe. 
Nor  has  he  made  our  talk  either  difagreeable  or  difficult: 
on  the  contrary,  the  tranfuion  is  fweet  and  eafy,  from 
corporeal  pleafures  to  the  more  refined  pleafures  of 
fenfe  ;  and  not  lefs  fo,  from  thefe  to  the  exalted  plea- 
fures of  morality  and  religion.  We  ftand  therefore  en- 
gaged in  honour,  as  well  as  intereft,  to  fecond  the  pur- 
poies  of  nature,  by  cultivating  the  pleafures  of  the  eye 

and 

*  Du  Bos  jifdicioufly  obferves,  that  filence  doth  not 
tend  to  calm  an  agitated  mindj  but  that  fofc  and.  flov? 
Hiufic  hath  a  fine  effcft. 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

and  ear,  thofe  efpecially  that  require  extraordinary  cul- 
ture *,  fuch  as  arile  from  poetry,  painting,  fculpture, 
mufic,  gardening,  and  archiceiSlure.  This  efpecially 
is  the  duty  of  the  opulent,  who  have  leifure  to  impiove 
their  minds  and  their  feelings.  The  fine  arts  are  con- 
trived to  give  pleafure  to  the  eye  and  the  ear,  difregard- 
ing  the  inferior  fenfes.  A  tafte  for  thefe  arts  if  a  plant 
that  grows  naturally  in  many  foils;  but,  without  cul- 
ture, fcarce  to  perfeQion  in  any  foil  :  it  is  fufccptibie 
of  much  refinement  ;  and  is,  by  proper  care,  greatly 
improved.  In  this  refped,  a  tafte  in  the  fine  arts  gees 
land  in  hand  with  the  moral  fenfe,  to  which  indeed  it 
is  nearly  allied  :  both  of  them  dilcover  what  is  right 
and  what  is  wrong  :  fafhion,  temper,  and  education, 
Lave  an  influence  to  vitiate  both,  or  to  preferve  them 
pure  and  untainted  :  neither  of  them  are  arbitrary  nor 
local  ;  being  rooted  in  human  nature,  and  governed  by 
principles  common  to  all  men.  The  defign  of  the  pre- 
ient  undertaking,  which  afpires  not  to  morality,  is,  to 
examine  the  fenfitive  branch  of  human  nature,  to  trace 
the  objedts  that  ate  naturally  agreeable,  as  well  as  thofe 
that  are  naturally  difagreeable ;  and  by  thefe  means  to 
difcover,  if  we  can,  what  are  the  genuine  principles  of 
the  fine  arts.  The  man  who  afpiies  to  be  a  criiic  in 
thefe  arts,  muft  pierce  ftill  deeper  :  he  muft  acquire  a. 
clear  perception  of  what  objeQs  are  lofty,  what  low, 
what  proper  or  improper,  what  manly,  at  d  what  mean 
or  trivial.  Hence  a  foundation  tor  reafoning  upon  the 
tafte  of  any  individual,  and  for  pafling  fentence  upon 
it:  where  it  is  conformable  to  piiuciples,  we  can  pro- 
nounce with  certainty,  that  it  is  corredl ;   otherwife, 

that 

*  A  tafte  for  natural  objefts  is  born  with  us  in  per- 
feftion  ;  for  relifhing  a  fine  countenance,  a  rich  land- 
fcape,  or  a  vivid  colour,  culture  is  unneceifary.  The 
obfervation  holds  equally  in  natural  founds,  fuch  as  the 
finging  of  birds,  or  the  murmuring  of  a  brook.  Na- 
ture here,  the  artificer  of  the  object  as  v/ell  as  of  the 
percipient,  hath  accurately  fuited  them  to  each  other. 
But  of  a  poem,  a  cantata,  a  pifture,  or  other  artificial 
produftion,  a  true  relifli  is  not  commonly  attained  with- 
out fome  ftudy  and  much  pradice. 


CONTENTS. 


V    O    L    U    M    E      I. 

Introdudion. 

Chap.  Pag. 

I.  Perceptions  and  ideas  in  a  Irain,  -  i 

a.  Emotions  and  paj/ionst  -  ■  -  IZ 

Fart 

1.  Caufes  unfolded  of  the  emotions  and 

pajjions  : 
Seft. 

I,.  Difference  betiveen  emotitn  and 
pafjion. — Caufes  that  are  the  moji 
common  and  the  mofi  general.-^ 
Pafjion  confidered  as  prtdudive  of 
a£lionj  -  -  -  ij 

S.  Of  the  poiuer  of  founds  to  raife 

emotions  and  pajjions ^         -         -         25 

^.Caufes  of  the  emotions  of  joy  and 

forronvy  -  -  28 

4.  Sympathetic  emotion  of  ^virtue^  and 

its  caufcy  "  -  35 

5.  In  many  injlances  one  emotion  is 
produSli've  of  another,     The  fame 

of  pafftons,  -  -  34 

6.  Caufes  of  the  fafjions  of  fear  and 
anger,  -  •■  44 

7.  Emotions  caufed  by  fi8ion,  48 

2.  Emotions  and  pajjions  as  pleafant  and 
painful,  agreeable  and  dijagreeahle. 
Modifications  of  thefe  qualities,  59 

3.  Interrupted  exijience  of  emotions  and 
pafjions. — Their  groivth  and  decays  65 

4.  Coexiftent  emotions  and  pafjions,  'jz 
5    The  influence  of  fajjion  nuith  refpeB  to 

our  perception^,  opinions,  and  belief,         gt 
Appendix.     The    methods   that    nature 
hath  afforded  for  computing  time  and  :, 
fpacCf  ,  •  -  -  -  -  -  99 

6.  The 


s  CONTENTS. 

Chap,  2.  continued. 

Part  Pag. 

6.  The   refetnhJance  of  emotions  to    their 

caufes,                   —                   —  1 08 

7.  Final  caufes  of  the  viore  frequent  etno' 

tions  and  paJJionSy         •—              —  wq 

3.  Beauty,                   —                        —  lig 

4.  Grandeur  and  fublimityy                  >-  128 

5.  Motifn  and  force.,                  —              —  1-4 

6.  Novelty y  and  the  unexpeQed  appearance  of 

object,                    —•                     —  15  c) 

•J.  Rifible  obje^Sy                 —                   —  167 

8.   Refemblance  and  difprnilitudey              —  171 

q.    Uniformity  and  <variety,                     —  188 
Appendix.     Concerning   the  ivorks   of   na- 
ture, chiefly    luith    refpe£l    to    uniformity 

and  'variety,                 —                   —  203 

10    Congruity  and  propriety y                   —  206 

II.   Dignity  and  grace,              —              — i  2i8 

3  2.  Ridicule,              —              —              —  227 

13.   fVity                —                  —              —  236 

34,  Cujlom  and  habit,              ——                   —  249 

35.  External  figns  of  emotions  and  parsons,  266 
j6.  Sentiments,  -—  —  282 
1 7.  Language  of  paffion,              —               —  312 


VOLUME      II. 

Pag. 
j8.  Beauty  of  language,  —  3 

Sect. 

1.  Beauty   of   language   ivith  refpe5   to 

found,  —  —  5 

2.  Beauty  of  language  •with  refpe£l  to  fig- 

nification,  —  —  \X 

3.  Beauty  of  language  from  a  refemhlance 

betiueen  found  and  ftgnification,  54. 

4..  Verftfication,                 —             —  64 

3  9.  ComparifonSf                  •«-•                  —  116 

ao.  Figures,                 --.                —  145 

I.  Perfo' 


CONTENTS.  xi 

Sect.  Pag. 

1,   Perfonifjcation,              —              —  145 

2.  Apoftrophe,              —                  —  163 

3.  Hyperbole,                   —                —  165 

4.  The  means  or  injirtinient  conceived  to 

be  the  agent,                     —  1 71 

5.  A  figure  nxhicht  cimong  related  ob']e8s, 

extends  the  properties  of  one  to  ano- 
ther y                   -—                   —  171 

6.  Metaphor  and  allegory y              —  175 

7.  Figure  of  fpeechy                    —  190 

Table 

I .  Subjeds  exprefjed  fgurati'vely,  1 94 
Z.  AttribiUes  exprefjed  figurative- 

by                 —                 —  198 

21.  Narration  and  defer iption,              ——  209 

22    Epic  and  dramatic  compojitions,  235 

23.  The  three  unities,              —               —  258 

24.  Gardening  and  architedure,              —  275 

25.  Standard  of  tajle,                   —              —  311 
Appendix.     Terms  defined  or  explained,  323 


T  R  O- 


INTRODUCTION.  v 

lliat  it  is  incorieft,  and  perh«ps  whimfical.  Thus  the 
fine  arts,  like  morals,  become  a  rational  fcience  ;  and, 
like  morals,  may  be  cultivated  to  a  high  degree  of  re- 
finement. 

Manifold  are  the  advantages  of  criticifm,  when  thus 
ftudied  as  a  rational  fcience.  In  the  firft  place,  a  tho- 
rough acquaintance  with  the  principles  of  the  fine  arts, 
redoubles  the  pleafure  we  have  in  them.  To  the  man 
who  refigns  himfelf  entirely  to  fentimcnt  or  feeling, 
without  interpofing  any  foit  of  judgment,  poetry,  mu- 
fic,  painting,  are  mere  paflime  :  in  the  prime  of  life, 
indeed,  they  are  delightful,  being  fupported  by  the  force 
of  novelty,  and  the  heat  of  imagination :  but  when  no 
longer  thus  fupported,  they  lofe  their  relilh  ;  and  are 
generally  negletled  in  the  maturity  of  life,  which  dif- 
pofes  to  rooie  ferious  and  more  important  occupations. 
To  thofe  who  deal  in  criticifm  as  a  regular  fcience,  go- 
verned by  juft  principles,  and  giving  fcope  to  judgment 
as  well  as  to  fancy,  the  fine  arts  are  a  favourite  enter- 
tainment ;  and  in  old  age  maintain  that  lelilh  which 
they  produce  in  the  morning  of  life  *. 

In  the  next  place,  a  philolophic  inquiry  into  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  fine  arts,  inures  the  refleflirg  mind  to  the 
moft  enticing  f(jrt  ol^  logic;  the  pra£\ice  of  reafoning 
upon  fubjetts  fo  agreeable  tends  to  a  habit ;  and  a  habit, 
flrengthening  the  reatoniug  faculties,  prepares  the  minci 
for  entering  into  fubjetls  more  difficult  and  abftra(^. 
To  have,  in  this  refpetl,  a  juft  conception  of  the  im- 
portance of  criticifm,  we  need  but  reflect  upon  the  com- 
mon method  of  education  ;  which,  after  fomc  years 
fpent  in  acquiring  languages,  hurries  us,  without  the 
lead  preparatory  difcipline,  into  the  moft  piofound  phi- 
lofophy,  A  more  effedtual  m.ethod  to  alienate  the  ten- 
der mind  fromjibitract  fcience,  is  beyond  the  reach  of 
invention;  and  accordingly,  with  refpect  to  fuch  fpecu- 
lations,  the  bulk  of  our  youth  contract  a  fort  of  hob- 
goblin terror,  which  is  fcldom,  if  ever,  fubdued.    Thofe 

who 

*  ''  Though  logic  may  fubfift  without  rhetoric  or 
"  poetry,  yet  fo  necefTary  to  thefe  1  aft  is  a  found  and 
*'  correa:  logic,  that  without  it  they  are  ho  better  th&n 
'*  warbling  trifles."     Hermes,  p,  6. 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

who  apply  to  the  arts,  are  trainad  in  a  very  diffcreat 
manner :  thcj  are  led,  flep  by  ftep,  from  the  eafier  parts 
of  the  operation,  to  what  are  more  difficult;  and  are 
not  permitted  to  make  a  new  motion,  till  they  be  per- 
fected in  thofe  which  go  before.  Thus  the  fcience  of 
criticifm  may  be  coniidered  as  a  middle  link,  connecting 
the  different  parts  of  education  into  a  regular  chain. 
This  fcience  furnilheth  an  inviting  opportunity  to  exer- 
cife  the  judgment  :  we  delight  to  reafon  upon  fubjecls 
that  are  equally  pleafant  and  familiar:  we  proceed  gra* 
dutlly  from  the  fimpler  to  the  more  involred  cafes:  and 
in  a  due  courfe  of  difcipline,  cultom.  which  improves 
all  our  faculties,  bellows  acurenefs  upon  thofe  of  rea- 
fon, fufficicnt  to  unravel  all  tlie  intricacies  of  pliilofo- 
phr. 

Nor  ought  It  to  be  overlooked,  that  the  reafoningi 
employ'd  upon  the  fine  arts  are  of  the  fame  kind  with 
thofe  which  regulate  our  condufl.  Mathematical  and 
nietaphyfic;>l  reafonings  have  no  tertiency  to  improve 
focial  inrercourfe;  nor  are  they  applicable  to  the  com- 
mon affairs  of  life-,  but  a  jufl  talle  of  the  fine  arts,  de- 
rived from  rational  principles,  furnifhes  elegant  fubjedta 
for  converfation,  and  prepares  us  for  atling  in  the  focial 
ftate  with  dignity  and  propriety. 

The  fcience  of  rational  criticifm  tends  to  Improve  the 
heart  not  lefs  than  the  underflanding.  It  tends,  in  the 
firft  place,  to  moderate  the  felfilh  affeftions :  by  fwcet- 
ening  and  harmonizing  the  temper,  it  is  a  ftrong  anti- 
dote to  the  turbulence  of  paffion  and  violence  of  pur- 
fuit  ;  It  procures  to  a  man  fo  much  mental  enjoyment, 
that  in  order  to  be  occupied,  he  is  not  tempted  to  de- 
liver up  his  youth  to  hunting,  gaming,  drinking*  ;  nor 
his  middle  age  to  ambition ;  nor  his  old  age  to  avarice. 
Pride  and  envy,  two  difguflful  pillions,  find  in  the  con- 
flitution  no  enemy  more  formidable  than  a  delicare  and 

difcerning 

*  If  any  youth  of  a  fplendid  fortune  and  Engliflx 
education  llumble  perchance  upon  this  book  and  this 
palfage,  he  will  pronounce  the  latter  to  be  empty  decla- 
ir.ation.  But  if  he  can  be  prevailed  upon  to  make  the 
•  xperiment,  he  will  find,  much  to  his  fatisfaction,  eve- 
ly  article  literally  true. 


INTRODUCTION.  vil 

difcerning  tafte  :  the  man  upon  whom  nature  and  cul- 
ture have  beftowed  this  bltlling,  feels  great  delight  in 
the  virtuous  difpofitipns  and  aftions  of  others :  he  loves 
to  cheriih  them,  and  to  publifh  them  to  the  work!  : 
faults  and  failings,  it  is  true,  are  to  him  not  Icfs  obv  - 
ous  ;  but  thefe  he  avoid?,  or  removes  out  of  fight,  be- 
caufe  they  g\\/e  him  pain.  On  tlie  other  hand,  a  man 
void  of  tall;e,  upon  whom  even  ftr;king  beauties  n  nke 
but  a  faint  imprellion,  indulges  pride  or  envy  without 
controul,  and  laves  to  brood  over  errors  and  blemifhes. 
In  a  werd,  the  e  are  oiher  paffions,  that,  upon  occafi- 
ens,  may  diftuib  the  peace  of  (ociery  mti'-e  tbftn  thofe 
mentioned  ;  but  none  of  the  other  paiTions  is  fo  unwea- 
ried an  antagonift  to  the  fwcets  of  f-c  al  intercourfe  : 
pride  and  envy  put  a  man  perpetually  in  oppofiucn  to 
others  i  and  difpo'^e  him  to  reliih  bad  more  thjin  good 
qualities,  even  in  a  compaaion.  How  diffeieiit  that 
difpofnion  of  nunJ,  where  every  virtue  in  a  coaipani- 
on  or  neighbour,  is,  by  rtfirrtment  of  iafte,  iet  in  its 
ftrongeft  ligh':  ;  and  defects  or  bleniilhes,  natural  to  all, 
are  fupprelTed,  or  kept  out  of  view  I 

In  the  next  place,  delicacy  of  tafte  tends  not  lefs  to 
invigorate  the  locial  affections,  than  to  moderate  thofe 
that  are  felfiili.  To  be  convinced  of  this  tendency,  we 
need  only  reflect,  that  delicacy  of  talle  neceflarily  height- 
ens our  feeling  of  pain  and  pleafure,  and  of  courfe  o'jr 
lynipathy,  which  is  the  capital  branch  of  every  focial 
paifion.  Syiupathy  in  particular  invites  a  co.iuiiunica- 
tion  of  joys  and  foirows,  hopes  and  fears:  fuch  exer- 
cife,  foothing  and  fatis*^actory  in  irlelt,  is  necefiirily 
productive  of  mutual  good' will  and  affection. 

One  other  advantage  of  rational  criticifm  is  referved 
to  the  lall  place,  being  of  all  the  moll:  iiuportant ;  which 
is,  that  it  is  a  great  fupporc  to  morality,  i  iniill  on  it 
with  e.itire  fatisfaction,  that  no  occupation  attaches  a 
man  more  to  his  duty  than  that  of  cultivating  a  lafte  in 
the  fine  arts  :  a  juft  reiilh  of  what  is  beautiful,  proper, 
elegant,  and  ornamental,  in  v/riting  or  painting,  in  ar- 
chiiecluie  or  gardening,  is  a  fine  prei-i.ation  for  the 
fame  jufl  reliih  of  thefe  quaiities  in  characer  and  be- 
haviour. To  the  man  who  has  acquired  '<>  talle  fo  acute 
and  accompliftied,  every  action  wrong  or  improper,  mnfl 

be 


vili  INTRODUCTION, 

be  highly  difguftful :  if,  in  any  inftance,  the  overbearing 
power  of  paflion  fvvay  him  frc.m  his  duty,  he  returns  to 
it  upon  the  firit  reflection,  with  redoubled  refolution  ne- 
ver to  be  fway'd  a  fecond  time  ;  he  has  now  an  additi- 
onal motive  to  virtue,  a  conviction  derived  from  expe- 
rience, that  happinets  depends  on  regularity  and  frder, 
ard  that  a  difteg^ird  to  jullice  or  propriety  never  fails 
to  be  punifned  with,  (hame  and  reinorfe  *. 

Rude  ages  exhibit  the  triumph  of  authority  over  rea- 
fon  :  rhilolophers  antiently  were  divided  into  fects,  be- 
ing Epicureans,  Piaioniits,  Stoics,  Pythagoreans,  or 
Sceptics  :  the  fpeculative  relied  no  farther  upon  their 
own  judgment  than  to  chufe  a  leader,  vvhom  they  im- 
plicitly followed.  In  later  times,  happily,  reafbn  hath 
obtained  the  aicendant  :  men  now  aifert  their  native 
privilege  oi  tiiinlcing  for  themfeives,  and  dildain  to  be 
ranked  in  any  i'e£l,  whatever  be  the  fcience  f  muft  ex- 
cept criticifm,  which,  by  what  fatality  I  know  not, 
continues  to  be  not  lefs  llaviih  in  its  principles,  nor  lefs 
fubmiilive  to  authority,  than  it  was  originally.  BofTu, 
a  celebrated  French  critic,  gives  nsany  rules  ;  but  can 
difcover  no  better  foundation  for  any  of  them,  'ban  the 
praftice  merely  of  Homer  and  Virgil,  fupported  by  the 
authority  of  AriUotle :  Strange!  that  in  lo  long  a  work, 
he  fliould  never  once  have  ftumbled  upon  ihe  quertion. 
Whether,  and  how  far,  do  thefe  rules  agree  with  human 
nature?  It  could  not  furely  be  his  opinion,  that  thefe 
poets,  however  eminent  for  genius,  were  intitled  to  give 
laws  to  n-.ankind  ;  and  that  nothing  now  remains  but 
blind  obedience  to  their  arbitrary  will ;  if  in  writing  they 
followed  no  rule,  why  fhould  they  be  imicated?  if  they 

ftudied 


♦  Genius  is  allied  to  a  warm  and  inflammabie  confti- 
twtion,  delicacy  of  tafte  to  calmnefs  and  fedatenefs. 
Hence  it  is  common  to  find  genius  in  one  who  is  a  prey 
to  every  palfion ;  which  can  fcarce  happen  with  refpect 
to  delicacy  of  tafte.  Upon  a  man  pofleiTed  of  that  bie(- 
fing,  the  moral  duties,  not  lefs  than  the  hne  arts,  making 
a  deep  impreifion,  counterbalance  every  inegular  defire: 
at  the  fame  time,  a  temper  calm  and  fedate  is  not  eahljr 
moved,  ^ven  by  a  ftrong  temptation. 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

ftudied  nature,  and  were  obfequious  to  rational  princi- 
ples, why  iliould  thele  be  concealed  from  us  ? 

With  refpedl  to  the  prefent  undertaking,  it  is  not  the 
author's  intention  to  compofe  a  regular  treatife  upon 
each  of  the  fine  arts  ;  but  only,  in  general,  to  exhibit 
their  fundamental  principles,  drawn  from  human  nature, 
the  true  fource  of  criticifm.  The  fine  arts  are  calcu- 
lated for  our  entertainment,  or  for  making  pleafant  im- 
prelfions  ;  and,  by  that  circumftance,  are  diftinguifhed 
from  the  ufeful  arts:  but  in  order  to  make  pleafant  im- 
preiTions,  we  ought,  as  above  hinted,  to  know  what 
objedts  are  naturally  agreeable,  and  what  naturally  dif- 
agreeable.  This  fubject  the  author  has  attempted,  as 
far  as  is  neceflary  for  unfolding  the  genuine  principles 
of  the  fine  arts ;  and  he  afTumes  no  merit  from  his  per- 
formance, but  that  of  evincing,  perhaps  more  diftinft- 
ly  than  hitherto  has  been  done,  that  thefe  principles,  as 
well  as  every  juft  rule  of  criticifm,  are  founded  upon 
the  fenfitive  par:  of  our  nature.  What  the  author  hath 
difcovered  or  colleded  upon  that  interefting  fubjed,  he 
chufes  to  impart  in  the  gay  and  agreeable  form  of  cri- 
ticifm }  imagining  that  this  form  will  be  more  relifted, 
and  perhaps  be  not  lefs  inftruflive,  than  a  regular  and 
laboured  difquifition.  His  plan  is,  to  afcend  gradually 
to  principles,  from  fails  and  experiments ;  inftead  of 
beginning  with  the  former,  handled  abftraftedly,  and 
defcending  to  ihe  latter.  But  though  criticifm  be  thus 
his  only  declared  aim,  he  will  not  dilown,  that  all  along 
it  has  been  his  view,  to  explain  the  nature  of  man,  con- 
fidered  as  a  fenfitive  being  capable  of  pleafure  and  pain  : 
and  though  he  flatters  himfelf  with  having  made  fome 
progrefs  in  that  important  fcience  ;  he  is  however  too 
fenfible  of  its  extent  and  difficulty,  to  undertake  it  pro- 
felfediy,  or  to  avow  it  as  the  chief  purpofe  of  the  pre- 
fent work. 

To  cenfure  works,  not  men,  is  the  jufl:  prerogative 
of  criticifm  ;  and  accordingly  all  perfonal  cenfure  is  here 
avoided,  unlefs  where  neceilary  to  iliuftrate  fome  gene- 
ral propofition.  No  praife  is  claimed  on  that  account  5 
becaufe  cenfuring  with  a  view  merely  to  find  fault,  can- 
not be  entertaining  to  any  perfon  of  humanity.  Wri- 
ters, one  fliould  imagine,  ought,  above  all  others,  to  be 

rdervtsi 


s  INTRODUCTION. 

refervcd  upon  that  article,  when  they  lie  fo  open  to  re- 
taliation. The  author  of  this  trcatife,  far  from  being 
confiJent  of  meriting  no  cenfure,  entertains  not  even 
the  fiightefl:  hope  of  fuch  perfection.  Amufement  was 
at  firft  the  fole  aim  of  his  inquiries  :  proceeding  from 
one  particular  to  another,  the  fubjeft  grew  under  his 
hand ;  and  he  was  far  advanced  be  ore  the  thou^ght  rtruck 
him,  that  his  private  meditations  might  be  publicly  ufe- 
ful.  In  public,  however,  he  would  not  p.ppcar  in  a  flo- 
venly  drefs  ;  and  therefore  he  pretends  not  otherwife  to 
apologize  for  his  errors,  than  by  obferving,  that  in  a 
new  fubject,  not  lefs  nice  than  extenUve,  errors  are  in 
fome  meafure  unavoidable.  Neither  pretends  he  to  juf- 
tify  his  tafte  in  every  particular :  that  point  mul^  be  ex- 
tremely clear,  which  admits  not  vaiiety  of  opinion  ;  and 
in  fome  matters  fufceptible  of  great  refinement,  lime  is 
perhaps  the  only  infallible  touchllone  of  tade :  to  this 
he  appeals,  and  to  taio  heehearfuliy  fubmits, 

N.  B.  The  Elements- of  Criticism,  meaning 
the  whole,  is  a  title  too  affuming  for  this  work.  A 
number  of  thefe  elements  or  principles  are  here  unfold- 
ed :  but  as  the  author  is  far  from  imagining,  that  he  has 
completed  the  lift,  a  more  humble  title  is  proper,  fuch 
as  may  exprefs  any  undetermined  number  of  parts  iels 
than  the  whole.  This  he  thinks  is  fignified  by  the  title 
hs  has  chofen,  viz.  Elements  oi-  Criticism. 


E  L  E- 


ELEMENTS 


O  F 


CRITICISM. 


CHAP.     XVIII.     Beauty  of  Language. 

F  all  the  fine  arts,  painting  only  and  fcuipture 
are  in  their  nature  imitative.  An  ornament- 
ed field  is  not  a  copy  or  imitation  of  nature, 
but  nature  itfelf  embelliflied.  Architecture 
deals  in  originals,  and  copies  not  from  nature.  Sound 
and  motion  may  in  fome  meafure  be  imitated  by  mu- 
fic;  but  for  the  moft  part,  mufic,  like  architedlure,  deals 
in  originals.  Language  copies  not  from  nature,  more 
than  niufic  or  architeQure  ;  unlefs  where,  like  mufic,  it 
is  imitative  of  found  or  motion:  in  the  defcription,  for 
example,  of  particular  founds,  language  fometimes  fur- 
nifheth  words,  which,  befide  their  culiomary  power  of 
exciting  ideas,  refemble  by  their  foftnefs  or  harftinefs 
the  found  defcribed ;  and  there  are  words,  which,  by 
the  celerity  or  flownefs  of  pronunciation,  have  fome  re- 
femblance  to  the  motion  they  fignify.  This  imitative 
power  of  words  goes  one  ftep  farther :  the  loftinefs  of 
ibme  words,  makes  them  proper  fyuibols  of  lofty  ide- 
as; a  rough  fubjedt  is  imitated  by  harfh-founding  words; 
and  words  of  many  fyllables  pronounced  flow  or  fmooth, 
are  naturally  expreflive  of  grief  and  melancholy.  Words 
have  a  feparate  effefl  on  the  mind,  ab(lra£ting  from  their 
fignification  and  from  their  imitative  power :  they  are 
more  or  lefs  agreeable  to  the  ear,  by  the  fulnefs,  fweet- 
nefs,  faintnefs,   or  roughnefs  of  their  tones. 

Thefe  are  but  faint  beauties,  being  known  to  thofe 
only  who  have  more  than  oidinary  acutenefs  of  percep- 
tion.    Language  poflTefTeth  a  beauty  fuperior  greatlv  in 
A  2  degree, 


4  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch,  XVIII. 

degree,  of  which  we  are  eminently  fenfible  when  a 
thought  is  communicated  with  perfpicuity  and  fpright- 
linefs.  This  beauty  of  language,  arifing  from  its  power 
of  expreffing  thought,  is  apt  to  be  confounded  with  the 
beauty  of  the  thought  itfelf ;  which  beauty  of  thought 
is  transferred  to  the  expreflion,  and  makes  it  appear 
more  beautiful*.  But  thefe  beauties,  if  we  wifh  to 
think  accurately,  muft  be  diftinguilhed  from  each  other: 
they  are  in  reality  fo  diftinft,  that  we  fometimes  are  con- 
fcious  of  the  higheft  pleafure  language  can  afford,  when 
the  fubjedt  expreffed  is  difagreeable ;  a  thing  that  is 
loathfome,  or  a  fcene  of  horror  to  make  one's  hair  ftand 
on  end,  may  be  defcribed  in  a  manner  fo  lively,  as  that 
the  difagreeablenefs  of  the  fubjeft  fliall  not  even  obfcure 
the  agreeablenefs  of  the  defcription.  The  caufes  of 
the  original  beauty  of  language  confidered  as  fignificant, 
which  is  a  branch  of  the  prefent  fubjeft,  will  be  ex- 
plained in  their  order.  I  fhall  only  at  prefent  obferve, 
that  this  beauty  is  the  beauty  of  means  fitted  to  an  end, 
that  of  communicating  thought:  and  hence  it  evidently 
appears,  that  of  feveral  expreffions  all  conveying  the 
fame  thought,  the  moll;  beautiful,  in  the  fenfe  now  men- 
tioned, is  that  which  in  the  moft  perfect  manner  an- 
fwers  its  end. 

The  feveral  beauties  of  language  above  mentioned, 
being  of  different  kinds,  ought  to  be  handled  feparately. 
I  fliall  begin  with  thofe  beauties  of  language  that  arife 
from  found;  after  which  will  follow  the  beauties  of 
language  confidered  as  fignificant :  this  order  appears 
natural ;  for  the  found  of  a  word  is  attended  to,  before 
•we  confider  its  fignification.  In  a  third  fedlion  come 
thofe  fingular  beauties  of  language  that  are  derived  from 

a  refem- 

*  Chap.  2.  part  i.  fedl.  5  Demetrius  Phalereus  (of 
Elocution,  fedl.  75  )  makes  the  fame  obfervation.  We 
are  apt,  fays  that  author,  to  confound  the  language  wich 
the  fubje^t;  and  if  the  latter  be  nervous,  we  judge  the 
former  to  be  fo  alfo.  But  they  are  clearly  diitinguifh- 
able  ;  and  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find  fubjefts  of  great 
dignity  dreifed  in  mean  language.  Theopompus  is  ce- 
lebrated for  the  force  of  his  dittion  ;  but  erroneoufly  : 
his  fubjetl  indeed  has  great  force,  but  his  ft/le  very  little. 


Ch.  XVIII.    Beauty  OF  Language.  5 

a  refemblance  between  found  and  fignification.  The 
beauties  of  verfe  are  handled  in  the  laft  feClion :  for 
though  the  foregoing  beauties  are  found  in  verfe  as  well 
as  in  profe,  yet  verfe  has  many  peculiar  beauties,  which 
for  the  fake  of  connexion  muft  be  brought  under  one 
view;  and  verfification,  at  any  rate,  is  a  fubjedl  of  fo 
great  importance,  as  to  deferve  a  place  by  itfelf. 

SECT.     I. 

Beauty  of  language  luith  refpe5l  to  found. 

IN  handling  this  fubjeQ:,  the  following  order  appears 
the  moft  natural.  The  founds  of  the  different  let- 
ters come  firft:  next,  thefe  founds  as  united  in  fylla- 
bles:  third,  fyllables  united  in  words:  fourth,  words 
united  in  a  period  :  and  in  the  laft  place,  periods  uni- 
ted in  a  difcourfe. 

With  refpefl  to  the  firft  article,  every  vowel  is  found- 
ed with  a  Tingle  expiration  of  air  from  the  wind-pipe, 
through  the  cavity  of  the  mouth,  By  varying  this  ca- 
vity, the  different  vowels  are  founded  :  for  the  air  in 
pairing  through  cavities  difFeiing  in  fize,  produceth  va- 
rious founds,  fonie  high  or  (harp,  fome  flow  or  flat ;  a 
fmall  cavity  occafions  a  high  found,  a  large  cavity  a  low 
found.  The  five  vowels  accordingly,  pronounced  with, 
the  fame  extenfion  of  the  wind-pipe,  but  with  differ- 
ent openings  of  the  mouth,  form  a  regular  feries  of 
founds,  defcending  from  high  to  low,  in  the  following 
order,  r,  f ,  a,  o,  u  *  Each  of  thefe  founds  is  agreeable 
to  the  ear :  and  if  it  be  inquired  which  of  them  is  the 
moft  agreeable,  it  is  perhaps  the  fafeft  fide  to  hold,  that 
there  is  no  univerfal  preference  of  any  one  before  the 
reft :  probably  thofe  vowels  which  are  the  fartheft  re- 
moved from  the  extremes,  will  be  the  moft  reliflied. 
This  is  all  I  have  to  remai-k  upon  the  firft  article:  for 
confonants  being  letters  that  of  themfdves  have  no 
found,  ferve  only  in  conjuiittion  with  vowels  lo  form 
A  3  articulate 

*  In  rhi-  fcale  of  founds,  the  letter  i  muft  be  p  moun- 
ced  as  in  the  word  interejt.,  and  as  in  otaer  wards  O' gin- 
ning with  tne  fyliuble  in;  the  letter  e  as  ni  pirfwifion'f 
the  letter  a  as  in  hat^  and  the  letter  u  as  in  number. 


6  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.XVIII. 

articulate  founds ;  and  as  every  articulate  found  of  this 
kind  makes  a  fyllable,  confonants  coaie  naturally  under 
the  fecond  article  ;  to  which   tlierefore  we  proceed. 

All  confonants  are  pronounced  with  a  lefs  cavity  than 
any  of  the  vowels;  and  confequently  they  contribute 
to  form  a  found  (till  more  fliarp  thin  the  ("harpeil  vowd 
pronounced  fingle.  Hence  it  follows,  that  eveiy  arti- 
culate found  into  which  a  confonant  enters,  mull  ne- 
ceflarily  be  double,  though  pronounced  with  one  expi- 
ration  of  air,  or  with  one  breath,  as  commonly  expref- 
fed  :  the  reafon  is,  that  though  two  founds  readily  unite, 
yet  where  they  ditfer  in  tone,  both  of  them  mufl;  be 
heard  if  neither  of  them  be  fupprefled.  For  the  fame 
reafon,  every  fyllable  muft  be  compofed  of  as  many 
founds  as  there  are  letters,  fuppoUng  every  letter  to 
be  diftinftly  pronounced. 

We  next  inquire,  how  far  articulate  founds  into  which 
confonants  enter,  are  agreeable  to  the  ear.  Few  tongues 
are  fo  pollflied,  as  entirely  to  have  rejeded  founds  that 
are  pronounced  with  difficulty ;  and  it  is  a  noted  ob- 
fervation,  That  fuch  founds  are  to  the  ear  harfh  and 
difagreeable.  But  with  refpedt  to  agreeable  founds,  it 
appears,  that  a  double  found  is  always  more  agreeable 
than  a  fingle  found:  every  one  who  has  an  ear  muft  be 
fenfible,  that  the  diphthong  oi  or  ai  is  more  agreeable 
than  any  of  thefe  vowels  pronounced  fingly :  the  fame 
holds  where  a  confonant  enters  into  the  double  found; 
the  fyllable  le  has  a  more  agreeable  lound  than  the  vow- 
el e,  or  than  any  vowel.  And  ia  fupport  of  experi- 
ence, a  fatisfaflory  argument  may  be  drawn  from  the 
wifdom  of  Providence  :  fpeech  is  beftowed  upon  man, 
to  qualify  him  for  fociety  ;  and  the  provifion  he  hath  of 
articulate  founds,  is  proportioned  to  the  ufe  he  hath 
for  them  :  but  if  founds  that  are  agreeable  fingly  were 
not  alfo  agreeable  in  conjunction,  the  necefliry  of  a  pain- 
ful feleClion  would  render  language  intricate  and  diffi- 
cult to  be  attained  in  any  perfedtion  ;  and  this  fele6tion, 
at  the  fame  time,  would  tend  to  abridge  the  number  of 
ufeful  founds,  fo  as  perhaps  not  to  leave  fufficient  for 
anfwering  the  different  ends  of  language. 

In  this  view,  the  harmony  of  pronunciation  differs 
widely  from  that  of  mufic  properly  fo  called  :  in  the 

latcer 


Se£l.I.  Beauty  of  Language.  7 

latter  are  difcovered  many  founds  fingly  agreeable,  that 
in  conjundion  are  extremely  diiagreeable ;  none  but 
what  are  c.illed  concordant  founds  having  a  good  efFe6l 
in  conjunflion  :  in  the  former,  all  founds  fyigly  agree- 
able, are  in  conjunftion  concordant;  and  ought  to  be, 
ill  order  to  fulfill  the  purpofes  of  language. 

Having  difciiifed  fyllables,  we  proceed  to  words  ; 
which  make  a  third  article.  Monofyllables  belong  to 
the  former  head  :  polyfyllables  open  a  different  fcene. 
In  a  cuifory  view,  one  will  readily  imagine,  that  the  a- 
grceablenefs  or  difagreeablenets  of  a  word  with  refpe£t 
to  its  found,  fliould  depend  upon  the  ag^reeablenefs  or 
difagreeablenefs  of  its  component  fyllables :  which  is 
true  in  part,  but  not  entirely  ;  for  we  niuft  alfo  take 
under  confideration,  the  effed  of  fyllables  in  fucceffion. 
In  the  firft  place,  fyllables  in  immediate  fucceffion,  pro- 
nounced, each  of  them,  with  the  fame  or  nearly  the 
fome  apeiturs  of  the  mouth,  produce  a  fuccellion  of 
weak  and  feeble  founds ;  witnefs  the  French  words  dit- 
il,  pathttique :  on.  the  other  hand,  a  fyliable  of  the 
greateft  aperture  fucceeding  one  of  the  fmalleft,  or  .the 
oppofite,  makes  a  fucceffion,  which,  becaufe  of  its  re- 
markable difagreeablenefs,  is  diftinguiflied  by  a  proper 
name,  'viz  hiatus.  The  moft  agieeable  fucceffion,  is, 
where  the  cavity  is  increased  and  dirainiJhed  alternately 
wfthin  moderate  limits.  Examples,  alternati-ve,  lotige- 
'vity,  pujillanimous.  Secondly,  words  confilVmg  wholly 
of  fyllables  pronounced  (lov/,  or  of  fyllables  pronoun- 
ced quick,  commonly  called  long  and  Jloort  fyllables^ 
have  little  melody  in  them  ;  witnefs  the  words  petition- 
er,  fruiterer,  dizzinefs  :  on  the  other  hand,  the  inter- 
mixture of  long  and  (hort  fyllables  is  remarkably  agree- 
able ;  for  example,  degree,  repent,  'wonderful,  altitude, 
rapidity,  independent,  impetuofity  *.  The  caufe  will 
be  explained  afterward,  in  treating  of  veifification. 

A  4  Dillin- 

*  Italian  words,  like  thofe  of  Latin  and  Greek,  have 
this  property  almofl  univerfally  :  Englifh  and  French 
words  are  generally  deficient  J  in  the  Ibrmer,  the  long 
fyliable  being  ler.nved  from  the  end  as  far  as  the  found. 
will  permit;  and  in  the  latter,  the  laft  fyliable  being  ge- 
neially  long  For  example.  Senator  in  inglifli,  Senator 
in  Lati:ij  aad  Senatear  ia  French. 


8  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.XVIlI. 

DifUnguifhable  from  the  beauties  above  mentioned, 
there  is  a  Iieautv  jf  fome  worJs  which  ari'cs  from  their 
fignification :  when  the  emotion  rajfed  by  the  length  or 
fhortnefs,  ilie  roughnefs  or  fmoothnefs,  of  the  iound, 
Tefenibies  in  any  degree  what  is  raifed  by  the  fenfe,  we 
feel  a  very  lemarhible  pkafure.  But  this  fubjett  be- 
longs to  the  thii  '  fedlion. 

The  foregoing  obfervations  afford  a  ftandard  to  every 
nation,   for  e(timating,  pretty  accurately,  tlie  compara- 
tive merit  of  the  words  that  enter  into  their  own  lan- 
guage:  but   they  are  not  equally  ufeful  in  comparing 
the  words  of  different  languages  ;  which  will  thus  ap- 
pear.     Different  nations  judge  differently  of  the  haifli- 
nefs  or  fmoothnefs  of  articulate   founds  ;  a  found,  for 
example,   barfh  and  difagjeeable   to  an  Italian,  may  be 
abundantly  frnooth  to  a  northern  ear  :  here  every  nati- 
on niuft  judge  for  itfelf;  nor  can  there  be  any  folid 
ground   for  a  preference,  when  there  is   no  common 
llandard  to  which  we  can  appeal.     The  cafe  is  precife- 
ly  the  fame  as  in  behaviour  and  manners :    plain-deal- 
ing and  fincerity,  liberty  in  words  and  aftions,  form  the 
charafter  of  one  people;  politenefs,  referve,  and.  a  to- 
tal difguife  of  every  fentiment   that  can  give  offence, 
form  the  chara<Eter  of  another  people  ;  to  each  the  man- 
ners of  the  other  are  difagreeable.     An  effeminate  mind 
cannot  bear  the  leaft  of  that   roughnefs   and  feverity, 
which  is  generally  effeemed  manly  when  exerted  upon 
proper  occafions  :  neither  can  an  effeminate  ear  bear  the 
hatfhnefs  of  certain   words,   that  are  deemed  nervous 
and  founding  by  thofe  accuftomed  to  a  rougher  tone  ot 
fpeech.     Mult  we  then  relinquilh  all  thoughts  of  com. 
paring  languages  in  the  point  of  roughnefs  and  fmooth- 
nefs, as  a  fruitlefs  inquiry  ?   Not  altogether  fo  ;   for  we 
may  proceed  a  certain  length,  though  without  hope  of 
an  ultimate  decifion  :  a  language  pronounced  with  diffi- 
culty even  by  natives,  muft  yield  to  a  fmoother  language: 
and  fuppollng  two  languages  pronounced  with  equal  fa- 
cility by  natives,  the  rougher  language,  in  my  judgment, 
ought  to  be  preferred,  provided  it  be  alfo  ftored  with  a 
competent  Ihare  of  more  mellow  founds  ;    which   will 
be  evident  from  attending  to  the  different  effeifts  that 
articulate  found  hath  upon  the  mind.    A  fmooth  gliding 

found 


SeQ:.  I.  Beauty  OF  Language.  9 

/bund  is  agreeable,  by  calming  the  mind,  and  lulling  it 
to  reft  :  a  rough  bold  found,  on  the  contrary,  animates 
the  mind  ;  the  effort  perceived  in  pronouncing,  is  com- 
municated to  the  hearers,  who  feel  in  their  own  minds 
a  ilmilar  effort,  roufing  their  attention,  and  difpofing 
them  to  adtion.  I  add  another  coniideration ;  that  the 
agreeablenefs  of  contrail  in  the  rougher  language,  for 
which  the  great  variety  cf  founds  gives  ample  oppor- 
tunity, nnift,  even  in  an  effeminate  ear,  prevail  over  the 
more  uniform  founds  of  the  fmoother  language*.  This 
appears  to  me  all  that  can  be  fafely  determined  upon 
the  prefent  point.  With  refpeft  to  the  other  circum- 
flances  that  conflitute  the  beauty  of  words,  the  ftand- 
ard  above  mentioned  is  infallible  when  apply'd  to  fo- 
reign languages  as  well  as  to  our  own  :  for  every  man, 
whatever  be  his  mother  tongue,  is  equally  capable  to 
judge  of  the  length  or  ihortnefs  of  words,  of  the  alter- 
nate opening  and  clofing  of  the  mouth  in  fpeaking,  and 
of  the  relation  that  the  found  bears  to  the  fenfe:  in 
thefe  particulars,  the  judgment  is  fufceptible  of  no  pre- 
judice from  cuftom,  at  leaft  of  no  invincible  prejudice. 
That  the  Englifn  tongue,  originally  harfh,  is  at  pre- 
fent much  foftened  by  dropping  in  the  pronunciation 
many  redundant  confonants,  is  undoubtedly  true :  that 
it  is  not  capable  of  being  further  mellowed  without 
fuffering  in  its  force  and  energy,  will  fcarce  be  thought 
by  any  one  who  poff^lTes  an  ear  ;  and  yet  fuch  in  Bri- 
tain is  the  propenfity  for  difpatch,  that  overlooking  the 
majefty  of  v/oids  compofed  of  many  fy llables  aptly 
conneQed,  the  prevailing  tafte  is  to  fhorten  words,  even 
at  the  expence  cf  making  them  difagreeable  to  the  ear, 
and  harfh  in  the  pronunciation.  But  I  have  no  cccafion 
to  infift  upon  this  article,  being  prevented  by  an  excel- 
lent writer,  who  pofleffed,  if  any  man  ever  did,  the  true 
genius  of  the  Englifh  tongue  f .  I  cannot  however  for- 
A  5  bear 

*  That  the  Italian  tongue  is  rather  too  fmooth,  feems 
probable  from  coniidering,  that  in  verJification  words 
are  frequently  fuppreffed  in  order  to  produce  a  rougher 
and  bolder  tone. 

f  See  Swift's  propofal  for  corrfftlng  the  Englifh 
tongue,  in  a  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Oxford. 


TO  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

b  ar  urging  one  obfervation,  borrowed  from  that  au- 
thor :  feveral  tenfes  of  our  verbs  are  formed  by  adding 
the  final  fyllable  f^,  which,  being  a  weak  found,  has  re- 
markably the  worfe  effedt  by  poffefTing  the  moft  confpi- 
cuous  place  in  the  word  ;  upon  which  account,  the 
vowel  in  common  Ipeech  is  generally  fiipprefled,  and  the 
conforiant  added  to  the  foregoing  fyliable  ;  and  hence 
the  following  rugged  founds,  drudgd,(li/}ui-b''d,rebuk'({, 
Jledgd,  It  is  ftill  lefs  excufable  to  follow  this  pradice 
in  writing;  for  the  hurry  of  fpeaking  may  excufe  what 
would  be  altogether  improper  in  a  compofuion  of  any 
value  :  the  fyllable  ed,  it  is  true,  makes  but  a  poor  fi- 
gure at  the  end  of  a  word  ;  but  we  ought  to  fubmit  to 
ihat  defedl,  rather  than  multiply  the  number  of  harfh 
words,  which,  after  all  that  has  been  done,  bear  an  over- 
proportion  in  our  tongue.  The  author  above-mention- 
ed, by  fhowing  a  good  example,  did  all  in  his  power  to 
reftore  that  fyllable  ;  and  he  well  deferves  to  be  imita- 
ted. Some  exceptions  however  1  would  make :  a  word 
that  iignifies  labour,  or  any  thing  harlh  or  rugged,  ought 
not  to  be  fmooth  ;  therefore /err V,  with  an  apoftrophe, 
is  better  ih^n  forced,  without  it:  another  exception  is, 
where  the  penult  fyllable  ends  with  a  vowel  ;  in  that 
cafe  the  final  fyllable  ed  may  be  apoftrophized  without 
making  the  word  hsrfh  :  examples,  betray'dy  carry  J, 
dejlroy^dy  employ  d. 

The  article  next  in  order,  is  the  mufic  of  words  as 
united  in  a  period.  And  as  the  airangement  of  words 
in  fucceflion  fo  as  to  afford  the  greateft  pleafure  to  the 
ear,  depends  on  principles  pretty  remote  from  common 
view,  it  will  be  necefl'ary  to  premife  foiiie  general  ob- 
fervations  upon  the  appearance  that  a  number  of  objedts 
make  when  placed  in  an  increafing  or  decreafing  feries  ; 
which  appearance  will  be  very  different,  accordingly  as 
refemblance  or  contfail  prevails.  Where  the  objedls 
vary  by  fmall  differences  lo  as  to  have  a  mutual  refem- 
blance, we  in  aicending  conceive  the  fecond  obje(St  of 
no  greater  fize  than  the  firll,  the  third  oi  no  greater  fize 
than  the  fecond,  and  fo  of  the  reft  ;  which  diminiflieth 
in  appearance  the  fize  of  the  whole:  but  when,  begin- 
ning at  the  largeft  objed,  we  proceed  gradually  to  the 
leaft,  refemblance  makes  us  imagine  the  fecond  as  large 

as 


Se6l. I.  Beauty  of  Language.  ti 

as  the  firft,  and  the  third  as  large  as  the  fecond  ;  which 
in  appearance  magnifies  every  objtfl  of  tl  e  feries  ex- 
cept the  fiift.  On  the  other  hand,  in  a  feries  varying 
by  great  differences,  where  contrafl:  prevails,  the  elFefts 
are  direiSlly  oppofite  :  a  large  objeft  fucceeding  a  fnaall 
one  of  the  fame  kind,  appears  by  the  oppofition  larger 
than  ufual  ;  and  a  fmall  object,  for  the  fame  reafon, 
fucceeding  one  that  is  large,  appears  lefs  than  ufual  *. 
H-Mice  a  remarkable  pleafure  in  viewing  a  feries  afcend- 
ing  by  large  difference? ;  direCtly  oppofite  to  what  we 
feel  when  the  differences  are  fmall.  The  fmalleft  object 
of  a  feiies  afcending  by  la!ge  differences  has  the  fame 
effe£l  upon  the  mind  as  if  it  flood  fingle  without  mak- 
ing a  part  of  the  feries :  but  the  fecond  obje<St,  by  means 
of  contrafl,  makes  a  much  greater  figure  than  when 
viewed  fingly  and  apart ;  and  the  fame  eff.£t  is  perceiv- 
ed in  afcending  progrclfively,  till  we  arrive  at  the  lafl: 
objefl.  The  oppofite  effedt  is  produced  in  defcending ; 
for  in  this  dire£tion,  every  objed,  except  the  firfl,  makes 
a  lefs  figure  than  when  viewed  feparately  and  indepen- 
dent of  the  feries.  We  may  then  lay  down  as  a  max- 
.im,  which  will  hold  In  the  compoficion  of  language  as- 
well  as  of  other  fubjetts,  That  a  ftrong  impulfe  fuc- 
ceeding a  weak,  makes  a  double  Impreflion  on  the  mind; 
and  that  a  weak  impulfe  fucceeding  a  ftrong,  makes 
fcarce  any  inipreffion. 

Alter  eflabiilliing  this  maxim,  we  can  be  at  no  lofs 
about  its  application  to  the  fubjedl  in  hand.  The  fol- 
lowing rule  is  laid  down  by  Diomedes  f .  "  In  verbis 
"  obfervandum  efl,  ne  a  majorjbus  ad  minora  defcendat 
"  oratio  ;  melius  eniin  dicitur,  I'^ir  eft  optimits,  quam, 
"  y^ir  optimus  eft"  This  rule  is  alfo  applicable  to  en- 
tire members  of  a  period,  which,  according  to  our  au- 
thor's expreffion,  ouglit  not,  more  than  fingle  words,  to 
proceed  from  the  greater  to  the  lefs,  but  from  the  lefs 
to  the  greater  J.  In  arranging  the  members  of  a  peri- 
od, no  writer  equals  Cicero  :  the  beauty  of  the  follow- 
ing 

*  See  the  reafon,  chap.  8. 

f  De  ftruCtura  perfeftse  orationij,  I.  2. 

X  See  Demetrius  Phalereus  of  Elocutio.n.  fed.  iS. 


12  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

ing  examples  out  of  many,  will  not  fufFer  me  to  flur 
them  over  by  a  reference. 

Qi_icum  quaeftor  fueram, 
Q^itcum  me  fors  confuetudoque  majorum, 
Qutcum  me  tieorum  hominumque  judicium  conjunx- 
erat. 

Again  : 

Habet  honorem  quem  petlmus, 
Habet  Ipem  quam  prspofitam  nobis  habemus, 
Habet  exiftimationem,   multo  fudore,  labore,  vigililf- 
que,  coliettam. 

Again : 

Eripite  nos  ex  miferu?, 
Eripite  nos  ex  faucihus  eorum. 
Quorum  crudelitas  nollro  fanguine  non  poteft  expleri. 

De  oralore,  /.  i.   §.52. 

This  order  of  words  or  members  gradually  increafing  in 
length,  may,  fo  far  as  concerns  the  pleafure  of  found 
fjngly,  be  deriominated  a  climax  in  found. 

The  laft  article  is  the  mufic  of  periods  as  united  in 
a  difcourfe;  which  ihall  be  difpatched  in  a  very  ♦ew 
words.  By  no  other  human  means  is  it  poffible  to  pre- 
fent  to  the  mind,  fuch  a  number  of  objects  and  in  fo 
fwift  a  fucceilion,^  as  by  fpeaking  or  writing:  and  for 
that  r-eafon,  variety  ought  more  to  be  ftudied  in  tbefe, 
than  in  any  other  fort  of  compofilion.  Hence  a  rule 
regarding  the  arrangement  01  the  members  of  different 
periods  uith  relation  to  each  other,  That  to  avoid  a  te- 
dious uniformity,  of  found  and  cadence,  the  arrange- 
•  0ienr,  the  cadence,  and  the  length  of  thefe  members, 
■ought  to  be  diveifified  as  much  .as  poliible  :  and  if  the 
members  of,  diffeient  periods  be  fufficientiy  diverfified, 
the  periods, thtuiftlves  will, be  equally  fo. 


I 


S    E    C    T.      II. 

Beauty  of  language  nvith  refped^to  ftgnifcation. 

T  is  well  faid  by  a- fiO'ed  writer  *,  "  That  by  means 
'*  of  fpcech  we  can  divcit  our  foriows,  mingle  our 

"  mirth, 

*  Scot's  Chrilliiiii  life. 


Se(5^.  II.        Beauty  OF  Language.  13 

"  mirth,  impart  our  fecrets,  communicate  our  counfelst 
"  and  make  mutual  compass  and  agreements  to  fupply 
"  and  aflill  each  other."  Coniidering  fpeech  as  contri- 
buting to  fo  many  good  purpofes,  words  that  convey 
clear  and  diltintt  ideas,  mult  be  one  of  its  capital  beau- 
ties. This  caufe  of  beauty,  is  too  extenfive  to  be  hand- 
led as  a  branch  of  any  other  fubjeft:  for  to  afcertain 
■with  accuracy  even  the  proper  meaning  of  words,  not 
to  talk  of  their  figurative  power,  would  require  a  large 
volume  ;  an  ufeful  work  indeed,  but  not  to  be  attempt- 
ed wirhojt  a  large  ftock  of  time,  fludy,  and  refledion. 
This  branch  therefore  of  the  fubje£l  I  humbly  decline. 
Nor  do  I  propofe  to  exhauft  all  the  other  beauties  of 
language  with  refpeft  to  fignification:  the  reader,  in  a 
work  like  the  prefent,  cannot  fairly  expedt  more  than  a 
fjfght  Iketch  of  thofe  that  make  the  greateft  figure.  This 
talk  I  attempt  the  more  willingly,  as  being  connected 
with  certain  principles  in  human  nature ;  and  the  rules 
I  fhall  have  occafion  to  lay  down,  will,  if  I  judge  right- 
ly, be  agreeable  illuftrations  of  thefe  principles.  Every 
fubjeift  muft  be  of  importance  that  tends  to  unfold  the 
human  heart ;  for  what  other  fcience  is  of  greater  ufe 
to  human  beings  ? 

The  prefent  fubjed  is  too  extenfive  to  be  difculTed 
without  dividing  it  into  parts;  and  what  follows  fug- 
gefts  a  divilion  into  two  parts.  In  every  period,  two 
things  are  to  be  regarded :  firft,  the  words  of  which  it 
is  compofed  ;  next,  the  arrangement  of  thefe  words  ; 
the  former  refembling  the  fl:ones  that  compofe  a  build- 
ing, and  the  latter  refembling  the  order  in  which  they 
nre  placed.  Hence  the  beauties  of  language  with  ref- 
pe6t  to  its  meaning,  may  not  improperly  be  diftinguiflied 
into  two  kinds:  firft,  the  beauties  that  arife  from  a  right 
choice  of  words  or  material?  for  conftruding  the  peri- 
od ;  and  next,  thebeauties  that  arife  from  a  due  ar- 
rangement of  thefe  words  or  materials,  I  begin  with, 
rules  that  direfl  us  to  a  right  choice  of  words,  and  then 
proceed  to  rules  that  concern  their  arrangement. 

And  with  refpe£l  to  the  former,  communication  of 
thought  being  the^principal  end  of  language,  it  is  a  rule. 
That  perfpicuityxsught  not  to  be  facrificed  to  any  other 
beauty  whatever ;  if  it  fhould  be  doubted  whether  per- 

fpicuitj^ 


14  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

^picuity  be  a  pofitive  beauty,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that 
^he  want  of  it  is  the  greatert  defedt.  Nothing  therefore 
'n  language  ought  more  to  be  ftudied,  than  to  prevent 
all  obfcurity  in  the  expredion  ;  for  to  have  no  meaning, 
is  but  one  degree  worfe  than  to  have  a  meaning  that  is 
not  underftood.  Want  of  perfpicuity  from  a  wrong  ar- 
rangement, belongs  to 'the  next  branch,  I  (hall  here 
give  a  few  examples  where  the  obfcurity  arifes.from  a 
wrong  choice  of  words ;  and  as  this  d^fefl  is  too  com- 
jnon  in  the  ordinary  herd  of  writers  to  make  examples 
from  them  neceflary,  1  confine  niyfelf  to  the  moft  cele- 
brated authors. 

Livy,  fpeaking  of  a  rout  after  a  battle, 

Multique  in  ruina  majore  quam  fuga  opprefli  cbtrunca- 
tfque.  -^  4-  §  46. 

This  author  is  frequently  obfcure  by  exprefTing  but  part 
of  his  thought,  leaving  it  to  be  completed  by  his  read- 
er. His  defcription  of  the  fea-fight,  /.  28.  cap.  30.  is 
extremely  perplexed. 

Unde  tibi  reditum  certo  fabtemine  Parcse 

Rupere.  [Horace,  epod.  xiii.  22. 

Qui  perfepe  cava  teftudine  flevit  amorem, 

f^on  elaboratum  ad pedem.  [Horace,  epod.  xiv.    II. 

Me  fabulofse  Vulture  in  Appulo, 
Altricis  extra  limen  Apuliae, 

Ludo,  fatigatumque  fomno, 

Fronde  nova  puerum  palumbes 

Texere.  [Horace,  Carm.  I.  3.  ode  4. 

Furse  rivus  aquje,  filvaque  jugerum 
i'aucorum,  et  fegetis  certa  fides  mese, 
Fulgentem  imperio  fertilis  Africa 

Fallit  forte  heatior.  [Horace,  Carm.  1.  3.  ode  16. 

Cum  fas  atque  nefas  exiguo  fine  llbidinum 
Difcernunt  avidi.  [Horace,  Carm.  L  i.  0^1?  18. 

Ac  fpem  fronte  ferenat,  [^neid.  iv.  477. 

I  am  in  greater  pain  about  the  foregoing  paflages  than 
about  any  I  have  ventured  to  criiicife,  bemg  aware  that 

a  vague 


Se£l.  II.         Beauty  of  Language.  15 

a  vague  or  obfcureexpreffion,  is  apt  to  gam  favour  with 
thole  who  negleft  to  examine  it  with  a  critical  eye:  to 
foiiie  it  carries  that  fenfe  which  they  relifli  the  moil: ;  and 
by  fuggefting  various  meanings  at  once,  it  is  admired 
by  others  as  concife  and  coiiiprehenfive  :  which  by  the 
way  fairly  accounts  tor  the  opinion  generally  en'ertained 
with  refpeft  to  inoft  languages  in  their  infant  ftate,  of 
their  exprefling  much  in  few  words.  This  oblervafioa 
cannot  be  better  illuftrated  than  by  a  paffiige  from  Qijin- 
tilian,  tranfcribed  in  the  firft  volume  tor  a  different  pur- 
pofe,  and  which  is  in  the  following  words. 

At  qua  Polycleto  defuerunt,  Phidias  atque  Alcamens 
dantur.  Fhidias  tamen  diis  quani  hominibus  efficiendis 
melior  artifex  traditur:  in  ebore  veto,  longe  citra  smu- 
lum,  vel  (i  nihil  niii  Minervam  Athenis,  aut  Olympium 
in  Elide  Jovem  feciffet,  cujus  pulchritudo  adjecijfe  aliquid 
etiam  recfptee  religioni  'videtur  ;  adeo  majejlas  operis 
Deum  a-quaiHt. ' 

The  fentence  in  the  Italic  charafters  appeared  always  to 
me  extremely  expreffive,  before  I  gave  it  peculiar  at- 
tention- And  yet  if  one  examine  it  independent  of  the 
context,  its  proper  meaning,  is  not  what  is  intended  :  the 
words  naturally  import,  that  the  beauty  of  the  ftatues 
mentioned,  appears  to  add  fome  new  tenet  or  rite  to  the 
eftablifhed  religion,  or  appears  to  add  new  dignity  to  it ; 
and  we  mull:  confult  the  context  before  we  can  gather 
rhe  true  meaning ;  which  is,  that  the  Greeks  were  con- 
firmed in  the  belief  of  their  eftablifhed  religion  by  thefe 
niajeftic  ftatues,  fo  like  real  divinities. 

There  is  want  of  neatnefs  even  in  an  ambiguity  fo 
flight  as  what  arifes  from  the  conftruQion  merely;  as 
where  the  period  commences  with  a  member  conceived 
to  be  in  the  nominative  cafe,  and  which  afterv/ard  is 
found  to  be  in  the  accufative,  Example :  "  Some  e- 
*'  motions  more  peculiarly  connedted  with  the  fine  arts, 
*'  I  propofe  to  handle  in  feparate  chapters  *."  Better 
thus :  '<  Some  emotions  more  peculiarly  connefted  with 
"  the  fine  arts,  are  propofed  to  be  handled  in  feparate 
**  chapters."  , 

I  add 


*  Elements  of  Ciiticifm,  vol.  i.  p.  43,  edit,  i. 


i6  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIIT. 

I  add  another  error  againft  perfpicuity;  which  I  men- 
tion the  rather  becaufe  v.'ith  fome  writers  it  pafles  for  a 
beauty.  It  is  the  givinsr  different  names  to  the  fams 
objet^,  mentioned  oftener  th?.n  once  in  the  fame  period. 
Example  :  Spenking  of  the  Englifli  adventurers  who  firft 
attempted  the  conqaeft  of  Ireland,  *'  and  inftead  of  re- 
**  claiming  the  natives  from  their  uncultivated  manners, 
*'  they  were  gradually  affiiuilated  to  the  antient  inhabi- 
•*  tants,  and  degenerated  from  the  curtoms  of  their  own 
"  nation."  From  this  mode  of  espreflion,  one  would 
think  the  author  meant  to  diftinguifli  the  antient  inha' 
litants  from  the  nati'vet;  and  we  cannot  difcover  other- 
wife  than  from  the  fenfe,  that  thefe  are  only  different 
names  given  to  the  fame  objedt  for  the  fake  of  variety. 
But  perfpicuity  ought  never  to  be  facrificed  to  any  other 
beauty,  which  leads  me  to  think  that  the  paflage  may 
beimproved  as  follows;  "  and  degenerating  trom  the 
"  cuftoms  of  their  own  nation,  they  were  gradually  af- 
**  fimilated  to  the  natives,  inilead  of  reclaiming  them 
**  from  their  uncultivated  .manners." 

The  rule  next  in  order,  becaufe  next  in  importance, 
IS,  That  the  language  ought  to  correfpond  to  the  fub- 
je(S  :  heroic  adions  or  fentiments  require  elevated  lan- 
guage; tender  fentiments  ought  to  be  exprefled  in  words 
foft  and  flowing  ;  and,  plain  language  devoid  of  orna- 
ment, is  adapted  to  fubjetts  grave  and  didadtic.  Lan- 
guage may  be  confidered  as  the  drell-  of  thought ;  and 
where  the  one  is  not  fuited  to  the  other,  we  are  fenfible 
of  incongruity,  in  the  fame  manner  as  where  a  judge  is 
dreffed  like  a  fop,  or  a  pealant  like  a  man  of  quality. 
Where- the  impreffion  made  by  the  words  refembles  the 
impreffion  made  by  the  thought,  the  limilar  emotions 
mix  fweeily  in  the  mind,  and  double  the  pleafure*j  but 
where  the  injpreffions  made  by  the  thought  and  the 
words  are  diffimilar,  the  unnatural  union  they  are  fore  d 
into  is  difagreeable  f,  • 

This  concordance  between  the  thought  and  the  words 
has  been  obfeived  by  every  critic,  and  is  fo  well  under- 
ftood  as  not  to  require  any  illullration.     But  there  is  a 

concordance 

*  Chap.  z.  part  4.  t  Ibid. 


Sed.IT.        Beauty  OF  Language.  i7 

concordance  of  a  peculiar  kind  that  has  been  fcarcely 
touched  in  works  of  criticifui,  though  it  contributes 
greatly  to  neatnefs  of  compofition.  It  is  what  follows. 
In  a  thought  of  any  extent,  we  feldom  mifs  to  find 
fome  parts  intimately  united,  fome  (lightly,  fonie  dif- 
joined,  and  fome  direGly  oppofed  to  each  other.  To 
find  thefe  conjunQionf  and  disjunctions  imitated  in  tlie 
expreiHon,  is  a  great  beauty :  becaufe  fuch  imitatio) 
makes  the  words  concordant  with  the  fenfe.  This  doc-  ■ 
trine  may  be.illuftrated  by  a  familiar  example  :  when  we 
have  occafion  to  mention  the  intimate  connection  that 
the  foul  hath  with  the  body,  the  exprefTion  ought  to  be, 
the  foul  and  body,  becaufe  the  particle  the,  relative  to 
both,  makes  a  counedtion  \n  the  expreffion,  refembling 
in  fome  degree  the  connection  in  the  thought :  but  when 
the  fou!  is  diftinguiflied  from  the  body,  it  is  better  to 
iiy  the  foul  and  the  body;  becaufe  the  disjunction  in  the 
words  refembjes  the  disjunCi/on  in  the  thought.  I  pro- 
ceed to  other  examples,  beginning  with  conjunctions. 

Conflitult  agmen ;  et  expedite  tela  animofque,  equl- 
tibus  juflis,  l^c.  [Li'vy,  /.  38.  §  25. 

Here  the  words  that  exprefs  the  connected  ideas  are  ar- 
tificially connected  by  fubjeCting  them  both  to  the  re- 
gimen of  one  verb.  And  the  two  following  are  of  the. 
lame  kind. 

Quum  ex  paucis  quotidie'aliqui  eorum  caderent  aut 
vulnerarentur,  et  qui  fuperarent,  fefll  et  corporibus  et 
antmis  eifent,  ^t.  .  [Li'vy,  I.  38.  §  29. 

Poll  acer  Mneftheus  adducto  conftitit  arcu. 
Aha  petens,  pariterque  oculos  telumque  tetendif. 

Mneidf  v.  507. 

But  to  juftify  this  artificial. connection  among  the  word?, 
the  ideas  they  exprefs  ought  to  be  intimately  connected  ; 
for  otherwife  that  concordance  which  is  required  be- 
tween the  fenfe  and  the  expreffion  will  be  impaired.  In 
that  view  a  paflage  from  Tacitus  is  exceptionable ;  where 
words  that  fignify  ideas  very  little  connected,  arc  howe- 
ver forc'd  into  an  artificial  union.     Here  is  the  paflage : 

Germania  omnis  a  Galliis,  Rhxtiifque,  et  Pannoniis, 

Rheno 


iS  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.XVlII. 

Rheno  et  Danubio  fliiminibus ;  a  Sarmatis  Dacifque, 
inutuo  metu  aut  niontibus  feparatur.  De  tnoribus  Ger- 
manorum. 

Upon  the  fame  account,  I  efteem  the  following  paflage 
equally  exceptionable. 

— The  fiend  look'd  up,  and  knew 

His  mounted  fcale  aloft ;  nor  more,  but  fled 
JVlurra'iing,  and  with  him  fled  the  fliades  of  night. 

Paradije  loji^  b.  ^.  at  the  end. 

There  is  no  natural  conneftion  between  a  perfon's  flying 
or  retiring,  and  the  fuccelfion  of  dav-light  to  darknels ; 
and  therefore  to  conneQ  artificially  the  terms  that  figni- 
fy  thefe  things  cannot  have  a  fweet  efi^eft. 

Two  mentbers  of  a  thought  connefted  by  their  rela- 
tion to  the  fame  aftion,  will  naturally  be  exprefled  by 
two  members  gover.Ted  by  the  fame  verb  ;  in  which 
cafe  thefe  members,  in  order  to  improve  their  connexi- 
on, ought  to  be  conftrutted  in  the  fame  manner.  This 
beauty  is  fo  comoion  among  good  writers  as  to  have 
been  little  attended  to  ;  but  the  negled  of  it  is  remark- 
ably difagreeable :  For  example,  "  He  did  not  mention 
"  Leonora,  nor  that  her  father  was  dead."  Better 
thus:  "  He  did  not  mention  L.ecnora,  nor  her  fathsr'-s 
"  death." 

Where  two  ideas  are  fo  connected  as  to  require  but 
a  copulative,  it  is  pleaf*nt  to  find  a  connection  in  the 
words  that  exprefs  thefe  ideas,  were  it  even  fo  flight  as 
where  both  begin  with  the  fame  letter  : 

The  peacock,  in  all  his  pride,  does  not  difplay  half  the 
colour  that  appears  in  the  garments  of  a  Britifh  lady, 
when  fhc  is  either  drelTed  for  a  ball  or  a  birth  day. 

Spcdator,  N    265. 

Had  not  my  dog  of  a  fl:eward  run  away  as  he  did, 
without  making  up  his  accounts,  I  had  ftill  been  iin- 
merfed  in  fm  and  fea-coal.  [Ibid.  N°  530. 

My  life's  companion,  and  my  bofom  friend. 
One  faith,  one  fame,  one  fate  ihall  both  .attend, 

Drjdeti,  Tranjlatim  of  the  JEneii. 

There 


Se6l.  II.         Beauty  OF  Language.  19 

There  is  ohvioufly  a  fenfible  defect  in  neatnefs  when 
uniformity  in  this  cafe  is  totally  neglected  *  j  witnefs 
the  following  example,  wheie  the  conftruction  of  two 
members  conaected  by  a  copulative  is  unneceffarily  va- 
ried. 

For  it  is  confidently  reported,  that  two  young  gentle.- 
men  of  real  hopes,  bright  wit,  and  profound  judgment, 
who  upon  a  thorough  examination  of  caufes  and  effects, 
and  by  the  mere  force  of  natural  abilities,  without  the 
leaft  tincture  of  learning,  have  maHe  a  difcovery  that  there 
was  no  God,  2in(!i  gen erou fly  cotnmiinicating  their  thoughts 
for  the  good  of  the  public,  were  fome  time  ago,  by  an 
unparailelled  feverity,  and  upon  I  know  not  what  obfo- 
lete  law,  brake  for  blafphemy  f.  [Better  thus] : — hav- 
ing made  a  difcovery  that  there  was  no  God,  and  having 
generoufly  communicated  their  thoughts  for  the  good 
of  tlie.  pubJic,  were  foaie  time  ago,  i^c. 

He  had  been  guilty  of  a  fault,  for  which  his  maftet 
would  have  put  him  to  death,  had  he  not  found  an  op- 
portunity to  efcape  out  of  his  hands,  zwA  fied  into  the 
deferts  of  Nuinidia.  [Guardian,  N"  139.. 

'  If  all  the  ends  of  the  revolution  are  already  obtain- 
ed, it  is  not  only  impertinent  to  argue  for  obtaining  any 
of  them,  hxn  faSlious  defigns  might  be  imputed,  and  the 
name  oF  incendiary  be  applied  with  fome  colour,  per- 
haps, to  any  one  who  fhould  perfilt  in  preifing  this  point. 
DiJJertation  upon  parties.  Dedication. 

Next  as  to  examples  of  disjunction  and  oppofition  in 

the  parts  of  the  thought,  imitated  in  the  exprefiion  ;  au 

,    imitation  that  is  diftinguifhed  by  the  name  of  atitithejis. 

Speaking  of  Coiiolanus  foliiciting  the  people  to  be 
made  conful : 

With  a  proud  heart  he  wore  his  humble  weeds. 

Coriolanus, 

Had  you  rather  Csfar  were  living,  and  die  all  flaves, 

than 

*  See  Girard's  French  Grammar,  difcourfe  12. 

f  An  argument  againft  abolilhing  Chi illianity.    Sivifi, 


20  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

than  that  Csfar  were  dead,  to  live  all  free  men  ? 

Julius  C/efar, 
He  hath  cool'd  my  friends  and  heated  mine  enemies. 

Shake/pear. 

An  artificial  connexion  among  the  words,  is  undoubt- 
edly a  beauty  when  it  repreferiis  any  peculiar  connec- 
tion among  the  confiituenr  parts  of  the  thought;  but 
where  there  is  na  fuch  connection,  it  is  a  pofitive  defor- 
mity, as  above  obferved,  becaufe  it  makes  a  difcordance 
between  the  thought  and  expreifion.  For  the  fame  rea- 
fon, we  ought  alio  to  avoid  every  artificial  oppoiition  of 
words  where  there  is  none  in  the  thought.  This  lali, 
Xeimed  verbal  antithejis^  is  ftirdied  by  low  writers,  be- 
caufe of  a  certain  degree  of  livelinefs  in  it.  They  do 
not  confider  how  incongruous  it  is,  in  a  grave  compofi- 
tion,  to  cheat  the  reader,  and  to  make  him  expetl  a  con- 
traft  in  the- thought,  which  upon  examination  is  not 
found  there.  - 

A  light  wife  doth  make  a  heavy  hufband, 

Mei'chant  of  Venice. 

Here  is  a  ftudied  oppofition  In  thewords,  not  only  with- 
out any  oppofition  in  the  fenfe,  hut  even  where  there  is 
a  very  intimate  connection,  that  of  caule  and  effect  j  for 
it  is  the  levity  of  the  wif§  that  torments  the  hufband. 


-Will  maintain 


Upon  his  had  life  to  make  all  this  good. 

King  Richard  II.  a^  I.  fc.  2. 

Lucetta.  What,  fliall  ihefe papers  lie  like  tell-tales  here? 
Julia.  If  thou  refpeft  them,  beft  to  take  them  up. 
Lucetta.  Nay,  I  was  taken  up  for  laying  them  down, 
Tiuo  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  ad  i.  fc.  3. 

A  fault  directly  oppofite  to  that  laft  mentioned,  Is  to 
conjoin  artificially  words  that  expiefs  ideas  oppofed  to 
each  other  in  the  thought:  This  is  a  fault  too  grofs  to 
be  in  common  pratlice ;  and  yet  writers  are  guilty  of  it 
in  fome  degree,  when  they  conjoin  by  a  copulative  things 
tranfadted  at  diifercnt  periods  of  time.  Hence  a  want 
of  neamefs  in  the  following  expreiiion. 

The 


Se£l.  II.         Beauty  of  Language.  2t 

The  noMlity  too,  wl^nm  the  King  had  no  means  of 
retaining  by  fuitable  offices  and  preferments,  had  been, 
feized  with  the  general  difcontent,  and  unwarily  threw 
themfelves  into  the  fcale  which  began  already  too  much 
to  preponderate.       [Hijl,  of  G.  Britain^  'vol.  i.  p  250. 

In  periods  of  this  kind,  it  appears  more  neat  to  exprefs 
the  pad  time  by  the  participle  pafllve,  thus : 

The  nobility  having  been  feized  with  the  general  dif- 
content, unwarily  threw  themfelves,  ^c.  (or),  The  no- 
bility, who  had  been  feized,  l£c.  unwarily  threw  them- 
felves, £fff. 

It  is  unpleafant  to  find  even  a  negative  and  affirnoa- 
live  propofition  connefted  by  a  copulative:   - 

Nee  excitatur  claflico  miles  truci, 

Nee  horret  iratum  mare  ; 

Forumque  vitat,  et  fuperbo  civlum 

Potentiorum  limina.  [Horace^  Epod  2,  /,  5. 

If  it  appear  not  plain,  and  prove  untrue, 
Deadly  divorce  ftep  between  me  and  you. 

Sbakefpear. 

In  mirth  and  drollery  \t  may  have  a  good  effeti  to 
conneft  verbally  things  that  are  oppofite  to  each  other 
in  the  thought.  Example  :  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France 
rntroducing  the  Marefchal  Biron  to  fome  of  his  friends, 
«'  Here,  Gentlemen,  «*  fays  he,  "  is  the  Marefchal  Bi- 
<'  ron,  whom  I  freely  prefent  both  tomy  friends  and,- 
**  enemies." 

This  rule  of  ftudying  uniformity  between  the  thought' 
and  expreffion,  may  be  extended  to  govern  the  conftruc- 
tion  of  fenter.ces  or  periods.  A  fentence  or  period 
ought  to  exprefs  one  entire  thought  or  mental  propoli- 
tion  ;  and  different  thoughts  ought  to  be  feparatcd  in 
the  expreffion  by  placing  them  in  different  fentences  or 
periods.  It  is  therefore  offending  againll  neatnefs,  to 
crowd  into  one  period  entire  thoughts  requiring  more 
than  one;  which  is  joining  in  language  things  that  are 
feparated  in  reality.  Of  errors  againft  this  rule  take 
the  following  examples. 

Behold 


22  Br.AUTY  ofLakguage.-    Ch.  XVIII. 

Behold,  thou  art  fair,  my  beloved,  yea  pieafant :  alio 
our  bed  is  green. 

Csefar,  defcribing  the  Suev! : 

Arque  in  earn  fe  confnetudincm  adduxeriinf,  u(  locis 
frigidiifiinis,  neque  vellirus,  prseter  pelles,  habeant  quid- 
quam,  quarimi  propter  exiguitatem  magna  eft  corporis 
pars  aperta,  et  laventur  in  fiuminibus. 

Commentaria,  I.  4.  prin. 

Burnet,  in  the  hiftory  of  his  own  times,  giiine  Lord 
Sunderland's  charadter,    fays, 

His  own  notions  were  always  good  ;  bat  he  was  a 
man  of  great  expence. 

I  have  feen  a  woman's  face  break  out  in  heats,  as  (he 
has  been  talking  againft  a  great  Lord,  whom  fhe  had  ne- 
ver feen  in  her  life;  and  indeed  never  knew  a  parry- 
woman  that  kept  her  beauty  for  a  twelvemonth. 

Spedator^  N"*  57, 

Lord  Boliigbroke,  fpeaking  of  Strada  : 

I  fingle  him  out  among  the  moderns,  becnufe  he  had 
tlie  foolifii  prefumption  to  cenfure  Tacitus,  and  to  write 
»hl!tory  himfelf;    and   your  Lordfliip   will    forgive   this 
fhort  excuifioti  in  honour  of  a  favourite  writer. 

Letters  on  hijfory,  <val.  i.  let.  5. 

It  feems  to  me,  that  in  order  to  maintain  the  moral 
fyftem  of  tlie  world  at  a  certain  point,  far  below  that  of 
ideal  perfeflion,  (for  we  are  made  capable  of  conceiving 
what  we  are  incapable  of  attaining),  but  hov.'ever  fuffi- 
cient  upon  the  v/Jiole  to  conititute  a  ftate  eafy  and  hap- 
py, or  at  the  worft  tolerable :  I  fay,  it  feems  to  me,  chat 
the  author  of  nature  has  thought  fit  to  mingle  from  time 
to  time,  among  the  focieties  of  men,  a  few,  and  but  a 
few,  of  thofe  on  whom  he  is  gracioufly  pleafed  to  beftov/ 
a  larger  proportion  of  the  ethereal  fpirii  than  is  given  in 
the  ordinary  courfe  of  his  providence  to  the  fons  of  men. 
Bolingbroke,  an  tbe  fpirit  of  pat  riot  if m,  let.  1, 

To  crowd  into  a  fingle  member  of  a  period  different 
fubjedts,  is  tlill  worfe  than  to  crowd  them  into  one  pe- 
riod. • Trojara, 


Sc6l.  ir.  Beauty  of  Language.  23 

Trojam,  genlrore  Adamafto 

Paupere  (manfifrerque  ucinain  fortuna)  profeflus. 

JEneid.  iii.  614. 

From  conjijr.i£tiori.s  and  di.sjunQions  in  general,  we 
proceed  to  compai  ifons,  which  inalct:  one  fpecies  of  rhem, 
be^innincr  v;ith  finulies.  And  here  alio,  the  intimate 
conneiflion  that  words  have  with  their  meaning;  requires, 
that  in  defcribing  two  reiembiiiig  objefls  a  re  'en)blance 
in  the  two  members  of  the  period  ought  to  be  ftudied. 
To  illufl:ra:e  the  rule  in  this  cti'e  I  fhall  ^ive  v.uious  ex- 
amples of  deviations  from  ir ;  beginning  with  refem- 
blances  expreffed  in  words  that  have  no  refemblance. 

I  have  obferved  of  late,  the  flyle  of  fome  g-'eat  mi- 

nifiers  very  much  to  exceed  that  ot  any  other  produdions. 

Letter  to  the  Lord  High  Treafiirer.      Snxjift, 

This,  inftead  of  fludylng  the  refemblance  of  words  in 
a  period  that  espreffes  a  comparifon,  is  going  out  of 
one's  road  to  avoid  it.  Inftead  of  productions,  which 
refemble  not  minifters  great  nor  fmall,  the  proper  word 
is  'writers  or  authors.  ^ 

If  men  of  eminence  are  expofed  to  cenfure  on  the  one 
hand,  they  are  as  much  liable  to  flattery  on  the  other. 
If  they  receive  reproaches  which  are  not  cue  to  them, 
they  likewife  receive  pruifes  which  they  do  not  deferve. 

SpeSiator. 

Here  the  fubje£t  plaiiily  demands  uniformity  in  exprefli- 
on  inftead  of  variety  ;  and  therefore  it  is  fubniitied, 
whether  the  period  would  not  do  better  in  the  following 
manner  : 

If  men  of  eminence  be  expofed  to  cenfure  on  the  one 
hand,  they  are  as  much  expoled  to  flattery  on  the  other. 
If  they  receive  reproaches  that  ave  not  due,  they  like- 
wife  receive  praifes  that  are  not  due. 

I  cannot  but  fancy,  however,  that  this  imitation, 
which  palTes  io  currently  with  other  judgments,  muft  at 
fome  time  or  other  haveilacka  little  with  your  Lordjhip*. 

[Better 

♦  Letter  concerning  enthufiauii.     Shaftelbury, 


24  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

[Better  thus] :  I  cannot  but  faney,  however,  that  this 
imitation,  which  paffes  fo  currently  with  others,  muft 
at  fonie  time  or  other  have  ftuck  a  little  with  your  Lord- 
{hip. 

A  glutton  or  mere  fenfualift  is  as  ridiculous  as  the  o- 
ther  two  charafters.  [Shaft ejbury,  'vol.  i .  />.  1 29, 

They  wifely  prefer  the  generous  efforts  of  good  'will 
and  affedioriy  to  the  reluttant  compliances  of  fuch  as 
obey  by  force.  [Remarks  on  the  hijlory  of  Eng- 

land, letter  5.      Bolingbroke. 

Titus  Livius,  mentioning  the  people  of  Enna  de- 
manding the  keys  from  the  Romian  garrifon,  makes  the 
governor  fay, 

Quas  fimul  tradiderimus,  Carthagiaienfium  extemplo 
Enna  erit,  fcediufque  hie  trucidabimur,  quam  Murgantias 
praefidium  interteSum  eft.  [/.  24..   §  38. 

Quintus  Curtius,  foeaking  of  Porus  mounted  on  an 
elephant,  and  leading  his  army  to  battle: 

Magnitudini  Fori  adjicere  videbatur  bellua  qua  vehe- 
batur,  tantum  inter  cseteras  erainens,  quanto  aliis  ipfe 
piaftabat.  U-  8.  cap.  14, 

It  is  a  ftill  greater  deviation  from  congruity,  to  afFefl 
not  only  variety  in  the  woids,  but  alfo  in  the  conftruc- 
tion.     Defcribing  Thermopylae,  Titus  Livius  fays, 

Id  jugum,  ficut  Apennini  dorfo  Italia  dividitur,  ita 
mediaai  Grseciam  diremit.  [l-  36.  §  15. 

Speaking  of  Shakefpear  : 

There  may  remain  a  fufpicion  that  we  over-rate  the 
greatnefs  of  his  gt^nius,  in  the  fame  manner  as  bodies 
appear  more  gigantic  on  account  of  their  being  difpro- 
portioned  .and  miihapen. 

Hiftory  of  G.  Britain,  vol.  I.  />.  138. 

This  is  ftudying  variety  in  a  period  where  the   beauty 
lies  in  uniformity.     Better  thus : 

There  may  remain  a  fufpicion  that  we  over-rate  the 
greatnefs  of  bis  genius,  in  ihe  fame  manner  as  we  over- 
rate 


Sed.  H.         Beauty  of  Language.  25 

rate  the  greatnefs  of  bodies  ihac  are  difproportioned  and 
niifliapen. 

Next  as  to  the  length  of  the  members  that  fignify 
the  refembling  objefts  To  produce  a  refeniblance  be- 
tween fuch  members,  they  ought  not  only  to  be  con- 
ftrufled  in  the  fame  manner,  but  as  nearly  as  polTible  be 
equal  in  length.  By  negleding  this  circumftance,  the 
following  example  is  defedive  in  neatnefs. 

As  the  performance  of  all  other  religious  duties  will 
not  avail  in  the  light  of  God,  ivithout  charity,  (o  nei- 
ther will  the  difcharge  of  all  other  mini'ierial  duties  a- 
vail  in  the  fight  of  men,  'without  a  faithful  difcharge  of 
this  principal  duty. 

Differtation  upon  parties,  dedication: 

In  the  following  paflage,  all  the  errors  are  accumulated 
that  a  period  exprefling  a  refemblance  can  well  adinit. 

Minifters  are  anfwerable  for  every  thing  done  to  the 
prejudice  of  the  conftitution,  in  the  fame  proportion  as 
the  prefervatioH  of  the  conftitution  in  its  purity  and  vi- 
gour, or  the  perverting  and  weakening  it,  are  of  greater 
confequence  to  the  nation,  than  any  other  inftances  of 
good  or  bad  government, 

Differtation  upon  parties,  dedication. 

Next  of  a  compaiifon  where  things  are  oppofed- to 
each  other.  And  here  it  mull  be  obvious,  that-if  re- 
femblance ought' to  be  ftudied  in  the  words  which  ex- 
prefs  two  refenibling  objefts,  there  is  equal  reafon  for 
ftudyingoppofition  in  the  words  which  exprefs  coatraft- 
ed  objeds.  _  This  rule  will  be  bed  illullrated  by  exam- 
ples of  deviation  from  it: 

A  friend  exaggerates  a  man's  virtues,  an  enemv  in- 
flames his  crimes.  [SpeiJafor,  N^'399. 

Here  the  oppofirion  in  the  thought  is  neglefted  in  the 
words,  which  at  firil  view  feem  to  import,  that  the 
friend  and  the  ene.ny  are  employ'd  in  diiFerent  matters, 
without  anv  relatj'in  to  each  other,  wnether  of  refem- 
blance or  of  oppofuion.  And  therefore  the  contraft  or 
oppofuion  will  be  better  marked  by  e.-.-prelfi.i :'  the  thought 
as  follows.  . 

A  friend 


26  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

A  friend  exaggerates  a  man's  virtues,  an  enemy  his 
Climes. 

The  following  are  examples  of  the  fame  kind. 

The  wife  man  is  happy  when  he  gains  his  own  appro- 
bation ;  the  fool  when  he  recommends  himfelf  to  the 
applaufe  of  thofc  about  him.  [Sfietflaior,  N°  73. 

Better  : 

The  wife  man  is  happy  when  he  grains  his  own  ap- 
probation J  the  fool  when  he  gains  that  of  others. 

Sicut  in  frugibus  pecudibufque,  non  tantum  femina 
ad  fervandum  indolein  valent,  quantum  terras  proprietas 
ccelique,  fub  quo  aluntur,  mutat.       [Liiy,  I.  38.  §  17. 

We  proceed  to  a  rule  of  a  different  kind.  During 
the  courfe  of  a  period,  the  fcene  ought  to  be  continued 
without  variation:  the  changing  from  perfon  to  perfon, 
from  fubjett  to  fubjedt,  or  from  perfon  to  fubjeft,  with- 
in the  bounds  of  a  fingie  period,  dillrads  the  mind,  and 
atfords  no  time  for  a  folid  impreffion.  I  iiluftrate  this 
rule  by  giving  examples  of  deviations  from  it. 

Honos  alit  artes,  omnefque  incenduntur  ad  ftudia  glo- 
ria jjacentque^^  femper  quce  apud  quofque  improbantur. 
Cicero,  Tufcul.   queji.  /.£. 

Speaking  of  the  diftemper  contracted  by  Alexander 
bathing  in  the  river  Cydnus,  and  of  the  cure  offered  by 
Philip  the  phyfician  : 

Inter  hasc  a  Parmenione  fidiflimo  purpuratorura,  lite- 
ras  accipit^  quibus  ei  denunciabat,  ne  lalutem  fuam  thi- 
lippo  committeret.  \_^intus  Curtius,  I.  3.  cap.  6 

Hook,  in  his  Roman  hiftory,  fpeaking  of  Eumenes,  who 
had  been  beat  down  to  the  ground  with  a  llone,  fays, 

After  a  fhort  time  he  came  to  himfelf;  and  the  next 
day,  they  put  him  on  board  his  Ihip,  luhich  convey'd  him 
firil  to  Corinth,  and  thence  to  the  ifland  of  yE>ina. 

I  give  another  example  of  a  period  which   is  unplea- 
fant,  even  by  a  very  flight  deviation  from  the  rule  : 

That  fort  of  inlhuction  which  is  acquired  by  incul- 
cating an  important  moral  truth,  t?*.  This 


Ch. XVIII.    Beauty  OF  Language.  47 

This  expreflion  includes  two  perfons,  one  acquiring, 
and  one  inculcating;  and  the  fcene  is  changed  without 
neceffiry.  To  avoid  this-  bleniiih,  the  thought  may  be 
cxprefTed  thus  : 

That  fort  of  inftruction  which  is  afforded  by  incul- 
cating, i^c. 

The  bad  effect  of  this  change  of  perfon  is  remarkable 
in  the  following  paflage. 

The  Britons,  daily  har^ffed  by  cruel  inroads  from  the 
Picts,  were  forced  to  call  in  the  Saxons  for  their  defence, 
ixjho  confequently  reduced  the  greateft  part  of  the  illand 
to  their  own  power,  drove  the  Britons  into  the  moft  re- 
mote and  mountainous  parts,  and  the  rejl  of  the  country, 
in  cuftoms,  religion,  and  language,  became  wholly  Sax- 
ons, [^Letter  to  the  Lord  High  Treafurer.     Sivift. 

The  followi.ag  example  is  a  change  from  fubject  tc 
perfon. 

This  prejlitution  of  praife  is  not  only  a  deceit  upon 
the  grofs  of  mankind,  who  take  their  notion  of  charac- 
ters from  the  learned  ;  but  alfo  the  better  fort  muft  by 
this  means  lofe  feme  part  at  lead  of  that  defire  of  fame 
"which  is  the  incentive  to  generous  actions,  when  they 
find  it  promifcuoufly  beftowed  on  the  meritorious  and 
undeferving.  [Gziflr^ias,  N*  4., 

Even  fo  flight  a  change  as  to  vary  the  conftruction  in' 
the  fame  period,  is  unpfeafant  : 

Annlba!  luce  prima,  Balearibus  levique  alia  armatura 
pr^miffa,  tranfgreffus  fiumen,  ut  quofque  traduxerat,  ita 
in  acie  locabat  j  Gailos  Hifpanofque  equites  prope  ripann 
lasvo  in  cornu  adverlus  Romanum  equitatum  ;  dextrum 
corniiNumidis  equitibus  datum.     [Tit.Li'v  /.  22.  §  46. 

Speaking  of  Hannibal's  elephants  drove  back  by  the 
r.iemy  upon  his  own  army  : 

Eo  msgis  ruere  in  fuos  beliuas,  tantoque  majorem  ftra- 
gem  edere  quam  inter  hoftes  ediderant,  quanto  acrius 
pavor  conilernatam  agit,  quam  iafidentis  magiltri  impe- 
rio  regitur.  [Liv.  I.  27.  §  14. 

This  paflage  is  alfo  faulty  in  a  different  refpect,  that 
there  is  no  refemblance  between  the  members  of  the 
^xprefTion,  though  they  import  a  fimile. 

Vol.  II.  B  The 


28  Beauty  OF  Language.     Cfi.XVIII. 

The  prefent  head,  which  relate.;  to  the  choice  of  ma- 
terials, fhall  be  clofed  with  a  rule  concerning  the  ufe  of 
copulatives.  Lopginus  obferves,  that  it  animates  a  pe- 
riod to  drop  the  copulatives;  and  he  gives  the  follow- 
ing example  from  Xen  jphon. 

Ciofirg  their  fhields   together,   they  were  pufh'd,  they 
fought,  they  flew,  they  were  flain. 

Treatife  of  the  Sublime,  cap,  16. 

The  reafon  I  take  to  be  v;hat  follows.  A  continued 
found,  if  not  loud,  tends  to  lay  us  alleep:  an  interrupt- 
ed found  roufes  and  animates  by  its  repeated  iinpulfes  : 
thus  feet  compofed  of  fyllables,  being  pronounced  with 
a  fenfible  interval  between  each,  make  more  lively  im- 
preffions  than  can  be  made  by  a  continued  found.  A 
period  of  which  the  members  are  connected  by  copu- 
latives, produceth  an  effect  upon  the  mind  approaching 
to  that  of  a  continued  found  ;  and  therefore  the  fup- 
preffing  of  copulatives  muft  anim.ite  a  defcription.  It 
hath  another  good  effect :  the  members  of  a  period  con- 
nected by  proper  copulatives,  glide  fmoothly  and  gent- 
ly along  ;  and  are  a  proof  of  fedatenefs  and  leifure  in 
the  fpeaker :  on  the  other  hand,  one  in  the  hurry  of  paf- 
fron,  neglecting  copulatives  and  other  particles,  expref- 
fes  the  piincipal  images  only ;  and  for  that  reafon,  hurry 
or  quick  action  is  bell  expreifed  without  copulative*  : 

Veni,   vidi,  vici. 

. — . Ite  : 

Ferte  citi  flammas,  date  vela,  impellite  remos. 

JEneid.   iv.  593. 

Quis  globus,  O  cives,  caligine  volvitur  atra? 

Ferte  citi  terrum,  date  tela,  fcandite  muros. 

Hoftis  adeft,  eja.  {Mtieid.  ix.  37. 

In  this  view  Longinus  *  juftly  compares  copulatives  in 
a  period  to  ftrait  tying,  which  in  a  race  obftructs  the 
freedom  of  motion. 

It  follows,  that  to  multiply  copulatives  in  the  fame 
period  ought  to  be  avoided:  for  if  the  laying  afide  co- 
pulatives give  force  and  livelinefs,  a  redundancy  of 
^  °  them 


*  Treatife  of  the  Sublime,  cap.  16. 


SeSt.  II.         Beauty  qf  Language.  29 

them  mufl:  render  the  period  languid.  I  appeal  to  the 
following  inftance,  though  theie  are  not  more  than  two 
copulatives. 

Upon  looking  over  the  letters  of  my  female  corref- 
pondents,  I  find  feveral  from  women  complaining  of  jea- 
lous hufbands  ;  and  at  the  fame  time  protefting  their 
own  innocence,  and  deliring  my  advice  upon  this  occa- 
fion.  [Spedator,  N°  170. 

I  except  the  cn^e  where  the  words  are  intended  to 
exprefs  the  coldnefs  of  the  fpeaker  j  for  there  the  re- 
dundancy of  copulatives  is  a  beauty: 

Dining  one  day  at  an  alderman's  in  the  city,  Peter 
obferved  him  expatiating  after  the  manner  of  his  bre- 
thren, in  the  praifes  of  his  firloin  of  beef  "  Beef," 
faid  the  fage  magilbate,  "  is  the  king  of  meat :  Beef 
'*  comprehends  \n  it  the  quinteffence  of  partridge,  and 
"  quail,  and  venifon,  and  pheafant,  and  plum-pudding, 
"  and  cuftard."  [Tale  of  a  Tub,  §  4. 

And  the  author  fiiews  great  delicacy  of  tafte  in  varying 
the  expreilion  in  the  mouth  of  Peter,  who  is  reprefent- 
ed  more  animated  : 

"  Bread,"  fays  he,  "  dear  brothers,  is  the  ftafF  of 
"  life,  in  v^hich  bread  is  contained,  inchtf-ve,  the  quin- 
"  telTence  of  beef,  mutton,  veal,  venifon,  partridge, 
"  plum-pudding,  and  cuftard." 

Another  cafe  nuift  alfo  be  excepted  :  '  copulatives 
have  a  good  effeft  where  the  intention  is  to  give  an  im- 
preffion  of  a  great  multitude  confifting  of  many  divifi- 
ons  i  for  example  :  "  The  army  was  compofed  of  Gre- 
"  Clans,  and  Cavians,  and  Lycians,  and  Pamphylians, 
"  and  Phrygians."  The  reafon  is,  that  a  leifurely  fur- 
"  vey,  which  is  expreffed  by  the  copulatives,  makes 
the  parts  appear  more  numerous  than  they  v/ould  do  by 
a  harty  furvey :  in  the  latter  cafe  the  army  appears  m 
one  groupe  :  in  the  former,  we  take  as  it  were  an  accu- 
rate furvey  of  each  nation,  and  of  each  divifion* 

We  proceed  to  the  fecond  kind  of  beauty  ;  which 
confilts  in  a  due  arrangement  of  the  words  or  materials 
B  ^  This 

*  See  Demetrius  Phalereus  of  Elocution,  fecr.  63. 


30  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

This  branch  of  the  fubjed  is  not  le's  nice  than  exten- 
five  ;  and  I  defpair  to  put  it  in  a  clear  light,  e>;cept  to 
thofe  who  are  well  acquainted  with  the  general  princi- 
ples that  govern  the  rtrufture  or  conipofition  of  language. 
In  a  thought,  generally  fpcaking,  there  is  at  leall  one 
capital  objetSt  confidered  as  afting  or  as  fuffering.  This 
objeft  is  expreffed  by  a  fubftantive  noun  :  its  action  is 
exprefled  by  an  active  verb  ;  and  the  thing  affected  by 
the  action  is  exprefled  by  another  fubftantive  noun  :  is 
fuffering  or  paflive  itate  is  exprefied  by  a  paffive  verb  ; 
and  the  thing  that  acts  upon  ir,  by  a  fubftantive  noun. 
IJefides  thefe,  which  are  the  capital  parts  of  a  fen'ence 
or  period,  there  are  generally  under  parts  :  each  of  the 
fubftantives  as  well  as  the  verb,  may  be  qualified  :  ti^r.c, 
place,  purpofe,  motive,  means,  inftrument,  and  a  thou- 
fand  other  circumftances,  may  be  neceffary  to  comp'ete 
the  thought.  And  in  what  manner  thefe  fe\eral  parts 
are  connected  in  the  expreftion,  will  appear  from  what 
follows. 

In  a  complete  thought  or  mental  propofirion,  all  the 
niembers  and  parts  are  mutually  related,  fome_  (lightly, 
fome  more  intimately.  To  put  fuch  a  thought  in  words, 
it  is  not  fufficient  that  the  component  ideas  be  clearly 
expreffed  :  it  is  alfo  neceffary,  that  all  the  relations  con- 
tained in  the  thought  be  expreffed  according  to  their  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  intimacy.  To  annex  a  certain  mean- 
ing to  a  certain  found  or  word,  requires  no  art:  the 
great  nicety  in  all  languages  is,  to  exprefs  the  various 
lelations  that  connect  together  the  parts  of  the  thought. 
Could  we  fuppofe  this  branch  of  binguage  to  be  ftill  a 
Secret,  it  would  puz/Je,  I  am  apt  to  think,  the  acuteft.  ■ 
grammarian,  to  invent  an  expeditious  method  :  and  yet, 
by  the  guidance  merely  of  nature,  the  rude  and  illiterate 
have  been  led  to  a  method  fo  perfect,  as  to  appear  rot 
fufceptible  of  any  improvement  ;  and  the  next  ftep  in 
our  piogrefsfhall  be  to  explain  that  meihod._ 

Words  that  import  a  relation,  niuft  be  diftinguiii.ed 
from  thofe  that  do  not.  Subftantives  commonly  imply 
no  relation,  fuch  as  animal,  man,  tree,  river.  -Adjec- 
tives, verbs,  and  adverbs,  imply  a  relation  :  the  adjective 
good  mufl:  relate  to  fome  being  poffeffed  of  that  quali- 
ty: the  verb  nvrite  muft  be  applied  to  fome  perfon  who 


vvnrc-  J 


Sed.  II.         Beauty  OF  Language.  31 

writes  ;  and  the  adverbs  moderately^  diligently,  have 
plainly  a  reference  to  fome  acrion  which  they  modify. 
When  a  relative  wotd  is  introduced,  it  mufl  be  fignified 
by  the  exprelli  >n  to  what  word  it  relates,  without  which 
the  fenle  cannot  be  complete.  ¥ox  anfwering  that  pur- 
pofe,  I  obferve  in  Greek  and  Latin  two  different  me- 
thods:  adjectives  are  declined  as  well  as  fubilantives  j 
and  declenfion  ferves  to  afcertain  the  connection  that  \i 
between  them  :  if  the  word  that  expre(fes  the  fubjecc 
hi,  fo\  example,  in  the  nominative  cafe,  fo  alfo  mull  the 
word  be  that  exprelFes  its  quality  j  example,  ^jir  bonus : 
again,  veibs  are  related,  on  the  one  hand,  to  the  agenf, 
and,  0;)  the  other,  to  the  fybject  upon  which  the  accion 
is  exerted ;  and  a  contrivance  fimilar  to  that  now  men- 
tioned, ferves  to  exprefs  that  double  relation;  thii  no* 
mtnafive  cafe  Ifl  approprfated  to  the  agenf,  the  accufa' 
five  to  the  paffive  fubjecfj  and  the  verb  H  put  in  th'3 
fiill,  fecoiid,  or  third  perfou,  to  intimate  Its  conneciioil 
with  the  word  that  fignifies  the  agent  :  examples,  Ego 
atnj  Tulliam  ;  tu  anias  Se)npronia7n  ;  Brutus  amat  Por- 
tiam.  The  other  method  is  by  juxtapofition,  which  is 
neceifary  with  refpect  to  fuch  words  only  as  are  not  de- 
clined, adverbs,  for  exam.ple,  articles,  prepoficions,  and 
conjunctions.  In  the  Englifh  language  there  are  few 
declenfions ;  and  therefore  juxtapofition  is  our  chief  re- 
fource  :  adjedives  accompany  their  fubllantives* ;  an 
adverb  accompanies  the  word  it  qualifies;  and  the  verb 
occupies  the  middle  place  between  the  adive  and  pal- 
five  fubjedls  to  v/hich  it  relates. 

It  inuil  be  obvious,  that  thofe  terms  which  have  no- 
thing relative  in  their  iignification,  cannot  be  connected 
in  fo  eafy  a  manner.     When  two  fubllaatives  happen  to 
B  3  be 

*  Taking  advantage  of  a  declenfion  to  feparate  an  ad- 
jective from  its  fubtlantive,  as  is  commonly  practifed  i;i 
Latin,  though  it  detract  not  from  perfpicuity,  is  certain- 
ly lefs  neat  than  the  Englifh  method  of  juxtapofition. 
'  Contiguity  is  more  expreffive  of  an  intimate  relation, 
than  refeuiblance  merely  of  the  final  fyllables.  Latin 
indeed  has  evidently  the  advantage  when  the  adjective 
and  fubtlantive  happen  to  be  connected  by  contiguity, 
as  well  as  b"  refembk.ace  of  the  fjna!  fyllable?. 


32  Beauty  OF  Lanoctage.     Ch,  XVIII. 

be  connected,  as  caiife  and  effect,  as  piincipal  and  ac- 
cefTory,  or  in  any  other  manner,  luch  connection  cannot 
be  exprelled  by  contiguity  folely  ;  for  v/ords  muit  often 
in  a  period  be  placed  togetlier  which  are  not  thus  rela- 
ted:  the  relation  between  lubftatitives,  therefore,  can- 
not otherwile  be  exprelTed  but  by  particles  denoting  t!ie 
relation.  Latin  indeed  and  Greek,  by  their  declenfionr, 
go  a  certain  length  to  exprefs  fuch  relations,  without  the 
aid  of  particles :  the  relation  of  property,  for  example, 
between  Cffifar  and  Kis  horfe,  is  exprefled  by  putting 
the  latter  in  the  nominative  cafe,  the  former  in  the  ge- 
niiive  ;  eguus  Cuefaris:  the  fame  is  alio  exprelT^d  in  ILng- 
lilh  without  the  aid  of  a  particle,  Ccefars  horfe.  But 
in  other  inflances,  declenfions  not  being  ufed  in  the  Eng- 
liih  language,  relations  of  this  kind  are  commonly  ex- 
p'effed  by  prepofitions.  Examples  :  That  wine  came 
frjm  Cyprus.  He  is  going  to  Paiis.  The  fun  is  belovj 
the   horizon. 

This  form  of  connecting  by  prepofitions,  is  not  con- 
fined to  fuhllantives.  Qualities,  attributes,  manner  of 
exifting  or  acting,  and  all  other  circumllances,  may  in 
the  fame  manner  be  connected  with  the  fubllandves  to 
which  they  relate.  This  is  done  artificially  by  con- 
verting the  circumll:ance  into  a  fubtlantive,  in  which 
condition  it  is  qualified  to  be  connected  with  the  princi- 
pal fubject  by  a  prepofition,  in  the  ma'mer  above  Aii\- 
crib'd  :  for  example,  the  adjective  iMife  being  converted 
into  the  fublliantive  tuifdom,  gives  opportunity  for  the 
exprellion  "  a  man  of  wifdom,"  inllead  of  the  more 
fimple  expreffion,  a  ivife  man:  this  variety  in  the  ex- 
prellion, enriches  language.  I  obferve,  befide,  that  the 
ufing  a  prepofition  in  this  cafe,  is  not  always  a  uia'ter 
of  choice  :  it  is  indifpenfable  with  refpect  to  every  cir- 
cuaifl:ance  that  cannot  be  exprefled  by  a  fingle  adjec- 
tive or  adverb. 

To  pave  the  way  for  the  rules  of  arrangement,  one 
other  preliminary  is  neceffary  ;  which  is,  to  explain  the 
difference  between  a  natural  flyle,  and  that  where  tranf- 
pofifion  or  inverfion  prevails.  There  a;e,  it  is  true,  no 
precife  boundaries  between  them,  for  they  run  into  each 
other  like  the  fhades  of  ditferent  colours  :  no  perlon 
however  is  at  a  lofs  to  didinguifii  them  in  their  cxtrea;es: 

and 


Se£l:. II.         Beauty  of  Language.  33 

and  it  is  necefTary  to  make  the  diftindlion  ;  becaufe 
though  fome  of  the  rules  1  ihnll  have  occaiioa  to  men' 
tion  are  co;n;nori  to  both,  yet  each  hath  rules  peculiar 
to  itieir.  Li  a  natural  ftyle,  relative  words  are  by  jux- 
tapofuion  connefted  with  thole  to  which  they  relate, 
going;  before  or  after,  according  to  the  peculiar  genius 
of  the  laii'Tuige.  Again,  a  circumll:ance  connefted  by 
a  prepofuion,  follows  naturally  the  word  with  which  it 
is  coi)ne<5ted.  But  this  arrangement  uiay  be  varied,  when 
a  different  order  is  more  beautiful :  a  circumftance  may 
be  placed  before  the  word  with  which  it  is  connefled 
bj  a  prepofition  ;  and  may  be  interjected  even  between 
a  relative  v/ord  and  that  to  which  it  relates.  When 
fuch  liberties  are  frequently  taken,  the  ftyle  becomes 
inverted  or  tranfpofed. 

But  as  the  liberty  of  inverfion  is  a  capital  point  in 
handi'ng  ths  prefent  fubjeft,  it  will  be  necefTary  to  exa- 
mine it  more  narrowly,  and  in  particular  to  trace  the  fe- 
verai  degrees  in  which  an  inverted  ftyle  recedes  more 
and  more  from  that  which  is  natural.  And  firft,  as  to 
the  placing  a  circumftance  before  the  word  with  which 
it  is  connetiled,  1  obferve,  that  it  is  the  eafieft  of  all  in- 
verfion, even  fo  eafy  as  to  be  confident  with  a  ftyle  thpt 
is  properly  termed  natural:  witnefs  the  following  ex- 
amples. 

In  the  fincerlty  of  my  heart,  I  profcfs,  l^c. 

By  our  own  ill  management,  we  are  brought  to  fo 
low  an  ebb  of  wealth  and  credit,  that,  tffc 

On  Thuifday  morning  there  was  little  or  nothing 
tranfixQed  in  Change-alley. 

At  St  Bride's  church  in  Fleet- ftreet,  Mr  Woolfton, 
(who  writ  againft  the  miracles  of  our  Saviour),  in  the 
utmoft  terrors  of  confcience,  made  a  public  recantation. 

The  interjecting  a  circumftance  between  a  relative 
word  and  that  to  which  it  relates,  is  more  properly 
termed  inverfion  ;  becaufe,  by  a  disjunction  of  words 
iiirimately  connected,  it  recedes  farther  from  a  natural 
ftyle.  But  this  licence  has  alfo  degrees  ;  for  the  dif- 
junction  is  more  violent  \n  fome  cafes  than  in  others. 
And  to  give  a  juft  notion  of  the  dlfierence,  there  is  a 
B  4  neceftity 


34  Beauty  CF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

necefli?y  to  enter  a  little  more  into  an  abil/act   fubject, 
than  would  otherwife  be  my  inclination. 

In  nature,  though  a  fubject  cannot  exift  without  its 
qualities,  nor  a  quality  without  a  fubject  j  yet  in  our 
conception  of  thefe,  a  material  difFe^ence  may  be  re- 
maiked.  I  cannot  conceive  a  quality  but  as  belonging 
to  fome  fubject  :  it  makes  indeed  a  part  of  the  idea 
which  is  formed  of  the  fubject.  But  the  oppofite  holds 
not  ;  for  though  I  cannot  form  a  conception  of  a  fub- 
ject devoid  oi  ail  qualities,  a  partial  conception  may 
however  be  foimeJ  of  it,  laying  afide  or  abftracting 
from  any  particular  quality  ;  I  can,  for  example,  form 
the  idea  of  a  fine  Arabian  horle  without  regard  to  his 
colour,  or  of  a  white  horfe  without  regard  to  his 
Cze.  Such  partial  conception  of  a  fubject,  is  ftill  mor« 
eafy  with  refpect  to  action  or  motion  ;  which  is  an  oc- 
cafional  attribute  only,  and  has  not  the  fame  permanen- 
cy with  colour  or  figure:  1  cannot  form  an  idea  of  mo- 
tion independent  of  a  body;  but  there  is  nothing  more- 
eafy  than  to  form  an  idea  of  a  body  at  reft.  Hence  it 
appears,  that  the  degree  of  inveifion  depends  greatly 
on  the  order  in  which  the  related  words  are  placed  : 
when  a  fubftantive  occupies  the  fiift  place,  the  idea  it 
fuggefts  muft  fubfift  in  the  mind  at  leaft  for  a  moment, 
independent  of  the  relaiive  words  afterward  introduced  ; 
and  that  moment  may  v/ithout  difficulty  be  prolonged 
by  interjecting  a  circumflance  between  the  fubflantive 
a:d  its  connections.  This  liberty  therefore,  however 
frequent,  will  fcarce  alone  be  fufficient  to  denominate  a 
llyle  inveited.  The  cafe  is  very  different,  where  the 
word  that  occupies  the  nrfl:  place  denotes  a  quality  or 
an  action  j  for  as  thefe  cannot  be  conceived  without  a 
fubject,  they  cannot  without  greater  violence  be  fepa- 
rated  from  the  fubject  that  follows ;  and  for  that  rea-. 
fon,  every  fuch  feparation  by  means  of  an  interjected, 
circuinllance  belongs  to  an  inverted  rtyle. 

To  illuArate  this  doctrine  examples  are  neceffary,  and 
I  fba'l  begin  with  thole  where  the  word  fitfi  introduced 
does  not  imply  a  relation  : 

Nor  Eve  to  iterate 

Her  former  trefpafs  fear'd. 

" -  Hunger  and  thirft  at  once, 

Powerful 


ScQ.  II.         Eeauty  of-Language.  35 

Powerful  perfuaders,  quicken'd  at  the  fcent 
Of  that  alluring  fruit,  urg'd  me  fo  keen. 

Moon  that  no.v  meet'fb  the  orient  fun,  now  Hi'll 
With  the  fix'd  flars,  fix'd  in  tbeir  orb  that  fl:es. 
And  ye  five  other  wand'ring  fires  that  move 
In  niyilic  dance  not  without  long,  itfound. 
Mis  praile. 

In  the  following  examples,  where  the  word  firft  in- 
troduced imports  a  relation,  the  disjunction  will  be 
found  mote  violent. 

or  man's  firft  difobedience,  and  the  fruit 
Of  that  foi  bidden  tree,  whofe  mortal  talte 
Brought  death  into  the  world,  and  all  our  woe,     • 
With  lofs  of  Eden,   till  o/ie  greater  man 
Reilore  us,  and  regain  the  blifsful  feat, 
Sing  lieav'nly  mufe. 

...  .. .  1 — —Upon  the  firm  opacous  globe 

Of  this  round  world,  whofe  firft  convex  divides 
The  luminous  inferior  orbs,  inclos'd 
From  chaos  and  th'iilroad  of  daikncfs  old, 
Satan  alighted  walks. 

■ On  a  fudden  open  fly, 

With  impetuous  recoil  and  jarring  founds     ■> 
Th'infernal  doors, 

. . .. Wherein  remain 'd,     - 


For  what  could  elfe  .''  to  our  almighty  foe 
Clear  viClory,  to  our  part  lofs  and  rout. 

-Forth  rufh'd,  with  whirlwind  found. 


The  chariot  of  paternal  Deity, 

Language  would  have  no  great  power,  were  it  confi-  ' 
ncd  to  the  natural  order  of  ideas:  I  (hail  foon  have  op- 
portunity to  make  it  evident,  that  by  inveifion,  a  thou- 
fand  beauties  may  be  compaffed,  which  mutt  be  relin- 
quifted  ia  a  natural  arrangement.  In  the  mean  time,  it 
ought  not  to  efcape  obfeivation,  that  the  mind  of  maa 
is  hippily  fo  confrituted  as  to  relilh  inveiiion,  though  in 
one  refped  unnatural ;  and  to  relilh  it  fo  much,  as  in 
many  cafss  to  admit  even  Inch  words  to  be  feparated  33 
are  the  moft  iatimately  conneded.  It  can  fcarce  be 
faid  that  inverfioo  has  ^.n/  limits ;  though  i  imy  ventuiti 
B  5  ta 


36  Beauty  cf«Laxguage.     Ch.  XVIII. 

to  pronounce,  that  the  disjunction  of  ariicles,  conjunc- 
tions, or  prepohtinns,  from  the  words  to  which  they 
belong,  has  very  feldom  a  good  efiedl :  the  following 
example  with  relation  to  a  prepoftion,  is  perhaps  as 
tolerable  as  any  of  the  kind. 

He  would  neither  feparate  from,  nor  act  agiinll  them. 

I  give  notice  to  the  render,  that  I  am  now  ready  to 
enter  upon  the  rules  of  arrangement ;  beginning  with  a 
natural  llyle,  and  proceeding  gradually  to  what  is  the 
mod:  inverted.  And  in  the  arrangement  of  a  period,  as 
well  as  in  a  right  choice  of  words,  the  firft  and  great 
objeft  being  perfpicuity,  the  rule  above  laid  down,  that 
perfpicuity  ought  no:  to  be  facrihced  to  any  other  beau- 
ty, holds  equally  in  both.  Ambiguities  occaiioned  by 
a  wrong  arrangement  are  of  two  forts;  one  wher£  the 
arrangement  leads  to  a  wrong  ^Qn^e,  and  one  where  the 
fenfe  is  left  doubtful.  The  iirft,  being  the  more  culpa- 
ble, fliall  take  the  lead,  beginning  with  examples  of  words 
put  in  a  wrong  place. 

How  much  the  imagination  of  fuch  a  prefence  muft 
exalt  a  genius,  we  may  obferye  merely  from  the  influ- 
ence which  an  ordinary  prefence  has  over  men. 

Cburailerijlics.,  'vol.  l.  p.  j. 

This  arrangement  leads  to  a  wrong  lenfe  :  the  adverb 
merely  feems  by  its  pofition  to  affed  the  preceding  woid  ; 
v/hcreas  it  is  intended  to  affttc  the  following  words,  an 
ordinary  prefence  ;  and  therelore  the  arrangement  ought 
to  be  thus : 

How  much  the  imagination  of  fuch  a  prefence  mull 
exalt  a  genius,  we  may  oblerve  from  the  influence  which 
ati  ordinary  prefence  nserely  has  over  men.  [Or  better], 
— '.vhich  even  an  ordinary  prefence  has  over  men. 

The  time  of  the  ele£tion  of  a  poet-laureat  being  now 
at  hand,  it  may  be  proper  to  give  fome  account  of  the 
rites  and  ceremonies  antiently  ufed  at  that  fclemnity,  and 
only  difcontinued  through  the  negleft  and  degeneracy  of 
later  times.  [Guardian. 

The  term  only  is  intended  to  qualify  the  r.oun  degene- 
racy,  a^'d  not  the  participle  difcontinued ;  and  therefore 
the  afr^ingement  ought  to  be  as  follows : 

— and 


Sc£l.  II.         Beauty  of  Language.  37 

and  difcontinued   through  the  negledl 

ai-,d  degeneracy  only,  of  later  times. 

Sixtus  the  Fourth  was,  if  I  miftake  not,  a  great  col- 
Lftor  of  books  at  leaft. 

Letters  on  hijlory,  vol.  i.  let.  6     BoUngbroke. 

The  exprefllon  here  leads  evidently  to  a  wrong  fenfe : 
the  adverb  at  feali,  ou'^ht  not  to  be  connected  with  the 
fubllantive  books,  but  with  colledofy  thus: 

Sixtus  t'le  Fourth  was  a  great  colle6tor  at  ieaft,  of 
bookj. 

Speaking  of  Lewis  XIV. 

If  he  was  not  the  greateft  king,  he  was  the  bell  ador 
of  niajefty  at  leaft,   that  ever  filled  a  throne. 

IbiJ.  letter  7, 

Better  thus  : 

If  he  was  not  the  greateil  king,  he  was  at  leaft  the  bed: 
ador  of  majefty,  i^c. 

This  arrangement  removes  the  wrong  fenfe  occafioned 
by  the  juxtapofuion  of  majefiy  and  at  leaji. 

The  following  examples  are  of  a  wrong  arrangement 
of  members. 

I  have  confined  myfelf  to  thofe  methods  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  piety,  which  are  in  the  power  of  a  prince 
iiuiited  like  ours  by  a  ftrift  execution  of  the  laws. 

A  ^rojeSl  for  the  adijaitcement  of  religion.    Sivift, 

The  lirudure  of  this  period  leads  to  a  meanl|g  which 
is  not  the  author's,  viz-  power  limited  by  a  itiitt  exe- 
cution of  the  laws.  That  wrong  fenfe  is  removed  by 
the  following  arrangement : 

I  have  confip.ed  myfelf  to  thofe  methods  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  piety,  which,  by  a  ibid  execution  of  the 
laws,  are  in  the  power  of  a  prince  limited  like  ours. 

This  morning,  when  one  of  Lady  Lizard's  daughters 
was  looking  over  fonie  hoods  and  ribands  broupht  by  her 
tirewoman,  with  great  care  and  diligence,  1  employ'd  no 
lels  in  examining  the  bo-i  which  contained  them. 

Guardian,  N°  4., 

The 


38  Beauty  of  Lakguaoe.     Cb.XVIIL 

The  wrong  fenfe  occafioned  by  this  arrangement,  may 
be  eafily  prevented  by  varying  it  thus  : 

This  morning  when,  with  great  care  and  diligence, 
one  of  Lady  Lizard's  daughters  waa  looking  over  foine 
hoods  and  ribands,  cifc. 

A  great  llone  that  I  happened  to  find  after  a  long 
fearch  by  the  fea-ftio'-e,  ferved  me   tor  an  anchor. 

Gulliver  s  Travels,  part  i .   chap.  8. 

One  would  think  that  the  fearch  was  confined  to  the  fea- 
fliore ;  but  as  the  meaning  is,  that  the  great  ftone  was 
found  by  the  fea  fiiore,  the  period  ought  to  be  arrang- 
ed thus  : 

A  great  ll^one,  that,  after  a  long  fearch,  I  happened 
to  find  by  the  (ea-fhore,  ferved  uie  for  an  anchor. 

Next  of  a  wrong  arrangement  v/here  the  fenfe  is  left 
doubtful;  beginning,  as  in  the  former  fort,  with  exam- 
ples of  wrong  arrangement  of  words  in  a  member : 

Thefe  forms  of  converfation  hy  degrees  multiplied  and 
grew  troublefome,  lSpedalor,N°  119. 

Here  It  is  left  doubtful  whether  the  modification  hy  de- 
grees relate  to  the  preceding  member  or  to  what  fol" 
lows  :  it  fhould  be, 
Thefe  forms  of  converfation  multiplied  by  degrees. 

Nor  does  this.falfe  modefty  expofe  us  only  to  fuch  ac- 
tions as  are  indilcreet,  but  very  often  to  fuch  as  are  high- 
ly criminal.  [Spe^ator,  N'  458. 

The  ambiguity  13  removed  by  the  following  arrangement : 

Nor  does  this  falfe  nindefty  expofe  us  to  fuch  atSlions 
only  as  are  indifcreet,  Ific. 

The  empi:e  of  Blefufcu  is  an  ifland  fituated  to  the 
north  ealt  fide  of  Lilliput,  irom  whence  it  is  parted  on^ 
by  a  channel  of  800  yards  wide. 

Gulliver^s  Travels,  part  I.  chap.  5. 

The  ambiguity  may  be  removed  thus ; 

' . from  whence  it  is  parted  by  a  channel 

of  800  yaids  wide  only. 

In 


Sed. IT.         Beauty  of  Language.  39 

In  the  following  examples  the  fenfe  is  left  doubtful 
by  wrong  arrangement  of  members. 

The  minifter  who  grows  iefs  by  his  elevation,  like  a 
iittle  jlatue  placed  on  a  mighty  pedejlal^  will  always  have 
Lis  jealoufy  ftrong  about  him. 

Dijjeii  /lion  upon  parties,  dedication.    Bolingbrohe. 

Here,  fo  far  as  can  be  gathered  from  the  arrangement, 
It  is  doubtful,  whether  the  obje<St  introduced  by  way  of 
iimile,  relate  to  what  goes  before  or  to  what  follows : 
the  ambiguity  is  removed  by  the  following  arrangement  '. 

The  minifter  who,  like  a  little  ftatue  placed  on  a  migh- 
ty pedeftal,  grov/s  Iefs  by  his  elevation,  will  always,  l^c. 

Since  this  is  too  much  to  aik  of  freemen,  nay  of  flaves, 
if  his  expedotion  be  not  anfvoered,  (hall  he  form  a  lad- 
ing divifion  upon  fuch  tranlient  motives?    -  Ibid^ 

Better  thus  :    ; 

Since  this  is  too  much  to  afk  of  freemen,  nay  of  Haves, 
ihall  he,  if  his  expectations  be  not  anfwered,  form,  l^c. 

Speaking  of  the  fuperftitious  pradice  of  locking  up  the 
room  where  a  perfon  of  dirtinfliou  dies  : 

The  knight,  feeing  his  habitation  reduced  to  fo  fmall 
a  compals,  and  himfelf  in  a  manner  fhuc  out  of  his  own 
houfe,  upon  the  death  of  his  tnother,  ordered  all  the  a- 
partments  to  be  flung  open,  and  exorcifed  by  his  chap- 
lain, [Speilator,  N'^  no. 

Better  thus;    ■ 

The  knight  feeing  his  habitation  reduced  to  fo  fmall 
a  compafs,  and  himfelf  in  a  manner  ftut  out  of  his  own 
houfe,  ordered,  upon  the  death  of  his  mother,  all  the 
apartments  to  be  flung  open. 

Speaking  of  fome  indecencies  in  converfation  : 

As  it  is  impoffible  for  fuch  an  irrational  way  of  con- 
verfation to  laft  long  among  a  people  that  make  any  pro- 
feflion  of  religion,  or  ihow  of  modefty,  if  the  country' 
gentlemen  get  into  ity  they  will  certainly  be  left  in  the 
lurch.  [Spedator,  N*  119. 

The  ambiguity  vanifhcs  in  the  following  arrangement : 

the 


40  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch. XVIII. 

the  country  gentlemen,  if  they  get  into  it, 

v/ill  certainly  be  left  in  the  lurch. 

Speaking  ot  a  difcovery  in  natural  philofophy,  that 
colour  is  not  a  quality  of,  matter: 

As  this  is  a  truth  which  has  been  proved  inconteftably 
by  many  modern  pMlotophers,  and  is  indeed  one  of  the 
fineft  fpeculations  in  that  fcience,  if  the  Englijh  reader 
nvould  fje  the  notion  explained  r.t  large,  he  may  find  it 
ill  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  fecond  book  of  Mr  Lock's  -j 
elFay  on  human  underllanding.  [SficJutor,  N°4i3.  . 

Better  thus  : 

As  this  is  a  truth,  ^c.  the  Eigiifii  reader,  if  he  would 
fee  the  notion  explained  at  large,  may  lind  it,  l^c. 

A  woman  fe'dom  afk?  advice  before  fhe  has  bought  her 
u'edding-cloafhs.     When  Hie  h.is  made  her  own  choice, 
for  form's  fake  ihe  fer.ds  a  c:)nge  d'e!ue  to  her  friends. 
-  "  Hid.  N°  475. 

Better  thus : 

-  ■    '      file  fends,  for  form's  fake,  a  conge  tf elite 

to  her  friends. 

And  fince  it  is  necelfary  tjiat  there  fhould  be  a  perpe- 
tual intercourfe  of  buying  and  felling,  and  dealing  upo.-i 
credit,  nuhere  fraud  is  permit  ted  or  connived  nt,  or  hnlh 
no  laiv  to  punijh  it,  the  honell  dealer  is  always  undone, 
and  the  knave  gets  the  advantage. 

Gulli^jers  Tra^-ch,  part  i.    chap.  6. 

Better  thus : 

And  fince  it  is  necelfary  that  there  fliould  be  a  per- 
petual intercourfe  of  buying  and  felling,  and  deilin^ 
upon  credit,  the  honeft  dealer,  where  fraud  is  permitted 
or  connived  at,  or  hath  no  law  to  punilh  it,  is  always 
undone,  and  the  knave  gets  the  advantage. 

From  thefe  examples,  the  follovving  obfervation  will 
occur,  that  a  circumftance  ought  never  to  be  placed  be- 
tween two  capital  members  of  a  peiiod;  for  by  fuch  fi- 
tuation  it  mull  always  be  doubtful,  {0  far  as  we  gather 
from  the  arrangement,  to  which  of  the  two  members  it 
belongs  :  where  it  is  interjeded,  as  it  ought  to  be,  be- 
tween parts  of  the  member  to  which  it  belong?,  the 

ambiguity 


?e£i:.  II.  Beauty  OF  Language.  ai 

ambiguity  is  removed,  and  the  capital  members  nre  kent 
diftind,  which  is  a  great  beauty  in  compofition.  In  ge- 
neral, to  preferve  members  diflind  that  fignify  thim^s 
diltinguiflied  in  the  thought,  the  bed:  methodis,  to  place 
firft  in  the  conleqiient  member,  fome  v/ord  that  cannot 
connedl  with  what  precedes  it. 

If  by  any  one  it  ihall  be  thouglit,  ihnt  the  objeflions 
here  are  too  fcrupulous,  and  that  the  defedt  of  perfpi- 
cuity  is  eafily  fupplied  by  accurate  punctuation  ;  the  an- 
fwer  is,  That  punftuation  may  remove  an  ambiguity, 
but  will  never  produce  that  peculiar  beauty  which  is 
perceived  when  the  fenfe  comes  out  clearly  and  diftinft- 
\y  by  means  of  a  happy  arrangement.  Such  influence 
has  this  beauty,  that  by  a  natural  tranfition  of  percep- 
tion, it  is  communicntcd  to  the  very  found  of  the  vvord% 
fo  as  in  appearance  to  improve  the  mufic  of  the  period. 
But  as  this  curious  fubjefl  comes  in  ffiore  properly  after- 
ward, it  is  fufficient  at  prefent  to  appeal  to  experience, 
that  a  period  fo  arranged  as  to  bring  out  the  fenfe  clear 
feems  always  more  nmfical  than  where  the  fenfe  is  lefL 
in  any  degree  doubtful. 

A  rule  defervedly  occupying  the  fecond  place,  i?, 
That  woi-ds  expreffing  things  conneded  in  the  thought, 
ought  to  be  placed  as  near  together  as  poffible.  This 
rule  is  derived  iuunediately  from  human  nature,  in  which 
there  is  difcovered  a  remarkable  propenfrty  to  place  to- 
gether things  that  are  in  any  manner  connefted*  :  where 
things  are  arranged  according  to  their  connedlions,  we 
have  a  fenfe  of  order ;  othcrwife  we  have  a  fenfe  of 
diforder,  as  of  things  placed  by  chance  :  and  we  natu- 
rally place  words  in  the  fame  order  in  which  we  would 
place  the  things  they  Hgnify.  The  bad  elieft  of  a  vio- 
lent feparation  of  words  or  members  thus  intimately 
connefted,  will  appear  from  the  following  examples.. 

_  For  the  Engiifh  are  naturally  fanciful,  and  very  oftea 
difpofed,  by  that  gloominefs  and  melancholy  of  temper 
which  is  fo  frequent  in  our  nation,  to  many  wild  noti- 
ons and  vifions,  to  which  others  are  not  fo  liable. 

hpedator,  N"  419. 
Here  the  verb  or  affer-ion  is,  by  a  pretty  long  circum- 

flance, 

*  See  chap.  i. 


4.V  Beauty  of  Language,     Ch.  XVlir. 

ilance,  violently  leparateiJ  from  the  fubjed:  to  which  it 
refers :  this  makes  a  harlT)  arrangement  ;  the  lefs  excu- 
fabie  that  the  fault  is  eaiily  prevented  by  placing  the 
circuniflance  before  the  verb  or  alfcrtion,  after  the  foU 
lowing  manner  : 

For  the  Engliih  are  naturally  fanciful,  and,  by  that    i 
gloominefs   a;id  melancholy  of  temper  which  is  fo  fre- 
quent in  our   nation,  are  often  difpofed  to  many  wild    ; 
notions,  l^c.  J 

For  as  no  mortal  author,  in  the  ordinary  fate  and  vl-  '1 
ciJlItude  of  things,  knows  to  what  ufe  his  works   may, 
fome  time  or  other,  bo  apply'd,  i^t.     [S/'a^utor,  H°  85.  ^^ 
Better  thus  ; 

For  as,  in  the  ordinary  fate  and  vicilfifude  of  things, 
no  mortal  author  kno.vs  to  what  ufe,  fome  time  or  o- 
ther,  his  works  may  be  apply'd,   i^c. 

From  whence  we  may  date  likewifj  the  rivainrlp  of 
the  houfe  of  France,  for  we  may  reckon  that  of  the 
Valois  and  that  of  Bourbon  as  one  upon  this  occafioi', 
and  the  houfe  of  Auftria,  that  continues  at  this  day, 
and  has  oft  cofi:  {0  much  blood  and  lo  much  tieafure  iu 
the  courfe  of  it. 

Letters  on  hijlory,  <vol.  i.   let.  6.      Bolinghroke, 

It  cannot  be  impertinent  or  ridiculous  therefore  la 
fuch  a  country,  whatever  it  might  be  in  the  Abbot  of 
St  Real's,  which  was  Savoy  I  think;  or  in  Peru,  under 
the  Incas,  where  GarcilafTo  de  la  Vega  fays  it  was  law- 
ful for  none  but  the  nobility  to  lliudy  —  for  men  of  all 
degrees  to  inlhuft  themfeh'es,  in  thofe  affairs  wheiein 
they  may  be  adors,  or  judges  or  thofe  that  ac>,  or  coii- 
trollers  of  thofe  that  judge. 

Letters  on  hijhry,  t'o/.  i.  let.  5.     Bolinghroke* 

If  Sci'pio,  who  was  naturally  given  to  women,  for 
which  anecdote  we  have,  if  I  miilake  not,  the  authority 
of  Polybius,  as  well  as  fome  verfes  of  Nevius  preferved. 
by  Aulus  G'-llius,  had  been  educated  by  Oiympias  at 
the  court  of  Philip,  it  is  improbable  that  he  would  have 
reftored  the  beautiful  Spaniard.  [Ibid,  lit  3. 

If  any  one  have  a  curlofity  for  more  fpeclmens  of  this 
kind,  they  will  be  found  without  numbsr  in  the  works 
of  ths  fame  author,  A  pio- 


Sea.  II.         Beauty  OF  Language.  ■  43 

A  pronoun,  which  faves  the  naming  a  perfon  or  thing 
a  fecond  time,  ought  to  be  placed  as  near  as  poffible  to^ 
the  name  of  that  perfon  or  thing.  This  is  a  branch  of 
the  foregsing  rule  j  and 'with  the  reafon  there  given, 
another  concurs,  'viz.  That  if  other  ideas  intervene,  it 
13  difiicult  to  recal  the  perfon  or  thing  by  reference: 

If  1  had  leave  to  print  the  Latin  letters  tr^nfniitted  to 
me  from  foreign  paits,  they  wculd  fill  a  volume,  and  be 
a  full  defence  againft  all  that  Mr  Partridge,  or  his  accom- 
plices of  the  Portugal  inquifition,  will  be  ever  able  to 
object  ;  ivhoy  by  the  way,  are  the  only  enemies  my  pr:i- 
ditlions  have  ever  met  with  at  home  or  abicad. 

Better  thus: 

and  be  a  full  defence  againft  all  that  can  be 


objected   by   Mr  Partridge,  or  his  accomplices  of  the 
Portugal  inquifition  ;  who,  by  the  way,  are,  in^c. 

There  being  a  round  million  of  creatures  in  human 
figure,  throughout  this  kingdom,  'vjhofe  whole  fubfiil- 
ence,  yc.  [A  modeji  ptopofal,  Sic.     S-wifi, 

Better, 

There  being,  throughout  this  kingdom,  a  round  mil- 
!ion  of  creatures  in  human  figure,  whofe  whole  fubful° 
ence,  i^c. 

Tom  is  a  lively  impudent  clown,  and  has  wit  enough 
to  have  made  him  a  pleafant  companion,  had  it  beea 
■polilhed  and  rectified  by  good  manners. 

Guardian,   N°  \6z. 

It  isthecuftom  of  the  Mahometans,  if  they  fee  an/ 
printed  or  written  paper  upon  the  ground,  to  take  it  up, 
and  lay  it  afide  carefully,  as  not  knowing  but  it  may  con- 
tain fome  piece  of  their  Alcoran.        {^peClator,  N°  85, 

The  arrangement  here  leads  to  a  wrong  fenfe,  as  if  the 
ground  were  taken  up,  not  the  paper, 

»■       Better  thus :  ►,. 

It  is  the  cuftom  of  the  Mahometans,  if  they  fee  up- 
on the  ground  any  printed  or  wiitten  paper,  to  take  it 
up,  ^c. 

The  follov/ing  rule  depends  on  the  communication 

of 


44  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

of  emotions  to  related  objects  ;  a  principle  in  human 
nature  tliat  hath  an  fxtenfive  operation  :  and  we  find 
tliis  operation,  even  wht-'e  the  objects  are  not  otherwiTe 
related  than  by  juxrapoiition  of  the  words  that  expicis 
them,  Hence,  to  elevate  or  deprefs  an  object,  one  me- 
thod is,  to  join  it  in  the  exprellion  with  another  that  is 
naturally  higli  or  low  :  witnel's  the  following  fpeech  of 
Eumenes  to  the  Roman  fenate. 

Caufam  veniendi  fibi  Romam  fuifle,  praster  ciipiditatem 
vlfendi  ^sss  /jominefjue,  quoruui  beneficio  in  ea  fortuna 
elTet,  fupra  qiiam  ue  optare  qiiidem  audercf,  etfam  ut 
coram  monetet  fcnatuju  ut  Perfei  conatu-  obviam  iret. 

Z-zVy,  /.  42--  caf>  1  I. 
To  join  the  Romans  with  the  gods  in  the  fame  enun- 
ciation, is  an  artful  Itroke  of  flattery,  becaufe  it  tacitly 
puts  thciU  on  a  level.  On  the  other  hxnd,  when  the 
purpofe  is  to  degrr.de  or  vilify  an  object,  this  is  done 
fuccefsfully  by  ranking  it  with  one  that  is  really  lou'  : 

I  hope  to  have  this  entertainment  in  a  readinefs  for 
the  next  winter;  and  doubt  not  but  it  will  pleafe  more 
than  the  opera  or  puppet  ihow.  \_Spedator,  N°  2S. 

Manifold,  have  been  the  judgements  which  Heaven 
from  time  fo  time,  for  the  chaflilVment  of  a  linful  peo- 
ple, has  inflicted  upon  whole  nations.  For  when  the  de- 
generacy becomes  com.mon,  'tis  but  juft  the  puniilimer.t 
Ihould  be  general.  Of  this  kind,  in  our  own  unfortu- 
nate country,  v/as  that  deitructive  pellilence,  whofe  mor- 
tality was  fo  fatal  as  to  fweep  away,  if  Sir  William  Pet- 
ty m\y  be  heliwed,  five  millions  of  Chriilian  fouls,  be- 
iides  women  and  Jews. 

God's  re-venge  again/?  punning.      Arbuthnot. 

Such  alfo  was  that  dreadful  conflagration  enfuing  in 
this  famous  metropolis  of  London,  which  confumed,  3C- 
cording  to  the  con)putation  of  Sir  Samuel  Moreland, 
100,000  houfes,  not  to  mention  chutches  and  iiables. 

Ibid. 

But  on  condition  it  might  pafs  into  a  law.  I  would 
gladly  exempt  both  lawyers  ot  all  ages,  fubaitern  and 
field  officers,  young  heirs,  dancing- maftcrs,  pickpockets, 
and  players. 

Jn,  infalliWe  f:'::f.-^e  to  pay  the  public  debts.     Sivlft, 


100 ner 


St:6l,  11.         Beauty  of  Language.  45 

Sooner  let  earth,  air,  fea,  to  chaos  fall. 
Men,  monkeys,  lap-dogs,  parrots,  periHi  all. 

Rape  of  the  Lock. 

Cfrcumftances  in  a  period  referable  fmall  Hones  in  a 
building,  einploy'd  to  fill  up  vacuities  among  thole  of 
a  larger  fize.  In  the  arrangement  of  a  period,  fuch 
under-parts  cro>.vded  together  make  a  poor  figure  ;  and 
never  are  graceful  but  when  interfperfed  among  the  ca- 
pital parts.  I  illullrate  this  rule  by  the  following  ex- 
amples. 

It  is  likewife  urged,  that  tliere  are,  by  computation, 
in  this  kingdom,  above  10,000  parfons,  whofe  revenues, 
added  to  thofe  of  my  Lords  the  bifliops,  v/ould  fuffice 
to  maintain,  l^c. 

Argument  againjl  aholijhing  Chriflianity.     Szvift, 

Here  tv^'O  circumliances,  ■viz..  by  computation  and  in 
this  kingdotn,  are  crowded  together  unr.eceffarily :.  they 
make  a  betier  appearance  leparated  in  the  following 
manner  : 

It  is  likewife  urged,  that  in  this  kingdom  there  are,, 
by  computation,  above  10,000  parfons.   If^c.  . 

If  there  be  room  for  a  choice,  the  fooner  a  clrcum- 
ftance  is  introduced,  the  better ;  becaufe  circumftances 
are  proper  for  that  coolnels  of  mind,  with  which  we 
begin  a  peiiod  as  well  as  a  volume  :  in  the  progrefs,  the 
mind  warms,  and  has  a  greater  relifli  for  matters  of  im- 
portance. When  a  ciicumlfance  is  placed  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  peiiod,  or. near  the  beginning,  the  traa- 
fitiun  trom  it  to  the  principal  fubjed  is  agreeable  :  it  is 
like  afcending,  or  mounting  upwaid.  On  the  other 
hand,  to  place  it  late  in  the  period  has  a  bad  effed;  for 
alter  being  engaged  in  the  princips!  fubje£t,  one  is  with 
relu6tance  brought  down  to  give  attention  to  a  circum- 
il;nce.  Hence  evidently  the  preference  of  the  follow- 
ing arrangement, 

Whether  in  any  country  a  choice  altogether  unexcep- 
tionable has  been  made,  feems  doubtful, 
before  this  ether,  •■ 

Whether  a  choice  altogether  unexceptionable  has  m 
any  country  be^n  made,  i^c. 

For 


4^  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIIf. 

For  th's  reafon  the  foUo^ving  period  is  exceptionable  in 
poiat  oi  arrangemenr. 

I  have  coiNidered  foimerly,  with  a  good  deal  of  at- 
tention, the  iubjet5t  upon  which  yen  couiiiiand  me  to 
Comuiunicate  my  thonghts  to  yoi!. 

Bolingbioke  tf  the  Jiudy  of  hijlcry,  letter  i. 
which,  with  a  IJight  alteration,  may  be  in  proved  thus : 

I  have  formerly,  with  a  good  ddd  of  atreniion,  con- 
fidsred   the  fubjc-t:!,   l£c. 

Swift,  fpeakirg  of  a  virtuous  arid  leuned  eJucatioa  ; 

And  although  they  may  be,  and  too  often  are  drawn, 
by  the  temptacions  of  youth,  and  the  opportunities  of  a 
large  foitune,  into  foiiie  irregulsiities,  nxhen  they  corre 
fornjoard  into  the  great  "world;  it  is  ever  with  teludance 
and  compunftion  of  ajind,  becaufe  their  bias  to  virtue 
ftill  continues.  \7he  Intslligesicsft  N"  9, 

Setter,  , 

And  although,  ivhen  they  come  forivarJ  into  the  great 
"Wirlil,  they  may  be,  and  too  often,  ts'r. 

The  bad  enlct  of  placing  a  circuniftance  lafl  or  late 
In  a  period,  will  appear  from  the  following  examples. 

Let  us  endeavour  to  eftablilh  to  ourfelves  an  intereft 
in  him  who  holds  the  reins  of  the  whole  creation  in  his 
hand  [Sfeilatvry  N°  12. 

Better  thus,: 

Let  us  endeavour  to  eiV.iblifh  to  ourfelves  an  interefb 
In  him,  who,  in  his  hand,  holds  the  reins  oi  the  whole 
creation, 

Virgil,  who  has  cad  the  whole  fyftem  of  Platonic  phi- 
lofophy,  fo  far  as  it  relates  to  the  foul  of  man,  into 
beautiful  allegories,  in  the  fixth  book  of  bis  ALneid,  gives 
us  the  puniihment,  i^c.  [Spedlatory  N^  90- 

Better  thus  ; 

Virgil,  who,  in  the  fixth  book  of  his  ^Eneid,  has  calt, 

And  Philip  the  Fourth  was  obliged  at  laft  to  conclude 
a  peace,  on  terms  repugnant  to  his  inclination,  to  that 


Se6l.  II.         Beauty  or  Lakguage.  47 

of  his  people,   to  the   intereft  of  Spain,   and   to  that  of 
all  Europe,  in  the  I'yrenean  treaty. 

Letters  on  hijlory,  vol.  i .  letter  6.   Bolinghroke, 

B^'tter  thus  : 

And  at  h:f^,  in  thePyrenean  trcnty,  Philip  the  Fourth 
was  obliged  to  conclude  a  peace,  y^. 

In  arranging  a  period,  it  is  of  importance  to  deter- 
mine i  1  wha:  part  of  it  a  word  makes  the  greateft  fi- 
gure, v/hether  at  the  beginning,  during  the  courle,  or 
at  the  clofe.  The  breaking  filence  roufes  the  attention, 
snH  prepares  for  a  deep  imprefllon  at  the  beginning; 
the  beg'nning,  however,  mull  yield  to  the  clofe  ;  which 
being  fucceeded  by  a  paufe,  affords  time  for  a  word  to 
make  its  deepelf  ijiiprefTion  *.  Hence  the  following 
rule,  That  to  give  the  utniofl  force  to  a  period,  it  ought 
if  poffible  to  be  clofed  with  that  word  which  makes  the 
greateft  figure.  The  opportunity  of  a  paufe  fhould  not 
be  thrown  away  upon  acctffbries,  but  leferved  for  the 
principal  object,  in  order  that  it  may  make  a  full  im- 
preffion :  which  is  an  additional  reafjn  againft  clofing  a 
period  with  a  ciccumftaice.  There  are  however  peri- 
ods that  admit  not  this  ftructure;  and  in  that  cafe,  the 
capital  word  ought,  if  pofliole,  to  be  placed  in  the  front, 
which  next  to  the  clofe  is  the  moll  advantageous  fcr 
making  an  imprefTion.  Hence,  in  directing  our  dil- 
courfe  to  a  man  of  figure,  we  oujht  to  begin  with  h;s 
nime ;  and  one  will  be  feiiubie  of  a  degradation,  when 
this  rule  is  neglected,  as  it  frequently  i&  for  the  fake  of 
verfe.     I  give  the  following  example'', 

Inte^ei  vit£e,  fcelerifque  purus, 
Non  eget  Mauri  jaculis,  neque  arcu. 
Nee  venenatis  gravida  fagittis, 

Fufce,  pharetra.  yHorat.  Carm    I.  i.  oJe  zt. 

Jo  crains  Dieu,  cher  Ahner,  et  n'ai  point  d'autre  crainte, 

In 

*  To  give  force  or  elevatidn  to  a  period,  it  ougHf  to 
begin  and  end  with  a  long  fyllnble.  For  a  long  fy'lthle 
makes  naturally  the  llrongefl:  impreflion  ;  and  ')f  all  the 
fyllables  in  a  period,  we  are  chiefly  moved  with  the  firfl 
and  lall.       {Demetrius  FhaUieus  of  Elacution,  feil.  39. 


48  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

In  thefe  examples,  the  name  of  the  perfon  addrcffed  to, 
makes  a  mean  figure,  heing  like  a  ciiciiinftance  flipt  in- 
to a  corner.  Thu  this  criricifm  is  well  founded,  we 
ne.?d  no  other  proof  than  Addil'on's  tranflation  of  the 
lad  example  : 

O  Abner!   I  fear  my  God,  and  I  fear  none  hut  him. 

Guardian,  N°  I  I  7. 
O  father,  what  intends  thy  hand,  fhe  cry'd, 
Againft  thy  only  Ton  }   What  fiirv,  O  fon, 
PoifefTes  thee  to  bend  that  mortal  dart 
Againll  thy  father's  head  .'' 

Paradife  loft,   book  2.   I    'JZ'j. 

Every  one  mufl  be  fenfible  of  a  digniry  in  the  invocati- 
on at  the  beginning,  which  is  not  attained  by  that  in 
the  middle.  1  mean  not  however  to  cenfure  this  paf- 
fage :  on  the  contrary,  it  appears  beautiful,  by  diftin- 
guiOiing  the  refpect  that  is  due  to  a  father  from  that 
which  is  due  to  a  fon. 

The  fuhftance  of  what  is  faid  in  this  and  the  fore- 
going fection,  upon  the  method  of  arranging  words  in 
a  period,  fo  as  to  make  the  deepefl:  impreilion  with  ref- 
pect to  found  as  v/ell  as  fignification,  is  comprehended 
in  the  following  obfervation.  That  oider  of  words  in 
a  period  will  always  be  the  moll  agreeable,  where,  with- 
out obfcuring  the  fenfe,  the  moll  important  images,  the 
mofl:  fonorous  words,  and  the  longeft  members,  bring 
up  the  rear. 

Hitherto  of  arranging  llngle  wo^^ds,  fingle  members, 
and  fingle  circumflances.  Bu  the  enumeration  of  ma" 
ny  particulars  in  the  fame  period  is  often  neceffiuy  ;  and 
the  queltion  is,  In  what  order  they  fiiould  be  placed. 
It  does  not  feem  eafy,  at  firll:  view,  to  bri-ng  a  fiihject 
apparently  too  loofe  under  any  general  rule:  but  luckily, 
reflecting  upon  what  is  faid  in  the  firil  chapter  about 
order,  we  find  rules  laid  down  to  our  hand,  which  leave 
us  no  tafk  but  that  of  appUing  them  to  the  prefent 
t^ueftion.  And,  firil,  with  refpect  to  the  enumerating  a 
number  of  particulars  of  dqaal  rank,  it  is  laid  down  in 
the  place  quoted,  that  as  there  is  no  caufe  for  prefer- 
ring any  one  before  the  reft,  it  is  inditferent  to  the  mind 
in  what  oider  they  be  viewed.     And  it  is  only  necefla- 


Se6l.  II.      ,   Beauty  of  Language.  ^g 

ry  to  be  added  here,  that  for  the  fame  reafon,  \t  is  in- 
diflFerent  in  what  order  they  be  named,  adiy,  If  a  num- 
ber of  objects  of  the  fuiue  kind,  ciiferirig  only  in  fize, 
are  to  be  ranq;ed  along  a  (Iraight  line,  the  luoit  a^Meea- 
bie  order  to  the  eye  is  tiiat  of  an  increafing  fcrics:  in 
'  furveying  a  number  of  fuch  objects,  beginning  at  the 
lc;)ft,  and  proceeding  to  g7eater  and  greater,  the  n.ind 
fwells  gradually  with  rlie  fuccefuve  objecrs,  and  in  its 
progrels  has  a  very  fenfible  pleafure.  Precifely  'o  the 
fame  reafon,  the  words  exprellive  of  fuch  objects  ou^ht 
to  be  placed  in  the  fame  order.  The  beau:y  oi  this  fi- 
gure, which  may  be  termed  a  climax  in  fenfe,  has  ef- 
caped  Lord  Bolingbroke  in  the  firit  member  of  the  fol- 
lowing period  ; 

Let  but  one  great,  brave,  difintereiTed,  active  man  a- 
life,  and  he  v/ill  be  received,  followed,  and  almoft  a- 
doied. 

The  following  arrangement  has  fenilbly  a  better  effect :  ' 

Let  but  one  brave,  great,  aftive,  difinterefled  man  a- 
rife,  l^c. 

Whether  the  fame  rule  ought  to  be  followed  in  enu- 
merating men  of  different  lanks,  feems  doubtful:  on 
the  one  hand,  a  number  of  perfons  prefented  to  the  eye 
in  form  of  an  increafing  feries,  is  undoubtedly  the  mofl 
agreeable  order  :  on  the  other  harid,  in  every  lift  of 
names,  we  fet  the  petfon  ot  ihe  greateft  dignity  at  the 
top,  and  defcend  gtadua'ly  through  his  infeiiors.  Where 
the  purpofe  is  to  honour  the  perfons  named  ilccording 
to  their  rank,  the  latter  order  ought  lo  be  foTowed  ; 
but  every  one  who  regards  himfelf  only,  or  his  reader, 
will  chiife  the  former  order.  3dly,  A.s  the  fenfe  of  or- 
der direds  the  eye  to  defcend  from  the  principal  to  its 
greateft  acceffoiy,  and  from  the  whole  to  its  gteateft 
pnrf,  and  in  the  fame  order  throiigh  nil  tiie  paits  and 
acceffories  till  we  nrrive  at  the  mimiteft^  the  fame  or- 
der ought  to  be  followed  in  the  enumera'ion  of  fuch 
particulars.  I  ihall  give  one  familiar  example.  Talk- 
ing of  the  parts  of  a  column,  I'tz  the  hale,  the  ftaft, 
the  capital,  thele  are  capable  of  fix  riiffeient  arrange- 
ments, and  the  quellion  is,  A  hich  is  the  beft .?  When 
we  have  in  view  the  erctSlion  of  a  column,  we  are  na- 

luiaily 


50  Beaut\  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIII, 

tiirally  led  to  exprefs  the  parts  in  the  order  above  men- 
tioned ;  v.liich  at  the  fame  time  is  agreeable  by  mount- 
ing upward  But  confidering  the  column  as  it  ftands, 
without  reference  to  its  eie6tion,  the  fenfe  of  order,  as 
obferved  above,  requires  the  chief  part  to  be  named 
firft  :  for  that  rear)n  we  begin  with  the  fliaft ;  and  the 
bafe  coni-'S  next  in  order,  that  we  may  afcend  from  it 
to  the  capital.  Laftly,  In  tracing  the  parriculars  of  a- 
ny  natural  operation,  order  requires  that  we  follow  the 
courfe  of  nature:  hiflorical  fafts  are  related  in  the  or- 
der of  time  :  we  begin  at  the  founder  of  £  family,  and 
proceed  from  him  to  his  defcendents:  but  in  defcribing 
a  lofty  oak,  we  begin  v;ith  the  trunk,  and  afcend  to  the 
branches 

When  force  and  livelinefs  of  expreffion  arc  demand- 
ed, the  rule  is,  to  fufpend  the  thought  as  long  as  pofli- 
ble,  and  to  brir>g  it  out  full  and  entire  at  the  clofe : 
which  cannot  be  do.ae  but  by  inverting  the  natural  ar- 
langement.  By  introducing  a  wor<l  or  member  before 
its  time,  our  curiofity  is  raifed  about  what  is  to  follow  j 
and  it  is  agreeable  to  Have  our  curiofity  gratified  at  the 
clofeof  the  period:  fuch  arrangement  pioduceth  on  the 
mind  an  efTetEt  fimilar  to  a  rtroke  exerted  upon  the  body 
by  the  whole  collected  force  of  the  agent.  On  the  other 
hand,  v/here  a  period  is  fo  conftruiled  as  to  admit  more 
than  one  complete  clofe  in  the  lenfe,  the  curiofity  of 
■he  reader  is  exhaufted  at  the  firft  clofe,  and  what  fol- 
lows appears  languid  or  fuperfiuous ;  his  dilappointmsnt 
contributes  alfo  to  that  appearance,  when  he  finds,  con- 
trary to  expeftation,  that  the  period  is  not  yet  finiflied. 
Cicero,  and  after  him  Quintilian,  recomir.end  the  verb 
to  the  laft  place.  This  method  evidently  tends  to  ful- 
])end  the  fenfe  till  the  clofe  of  the  period  ;  for  without 
the  verb  the  fenfe  cannot  be  complete  :  and  when  the 
verb  happens  to  be  the  capital  word,  which  is  frequently 
the  cafe,  it  ought  at  any  rate  to  be  put  laft,  according 
ic  another  rule,  above  laid  down.  I  proceed  as  ufuai 
to  iliuftrate  this  rule  by  examples.  The  following  pe- 
riod is  placed  in  its  natural  order. 

We  e  inftruftion  an  effential  circumftance  in  epic  po- 
etry, I  doubt  v/bether  a  fingle  infiance  could  be  given  of 
this  fpecies  of  compdfition,  in  any-  language. 

The 


Sc&.  II.         Beauty  of  Lakgage.  ^i 

The  period  thus  arranged  admits  a  full  clofe  upon  the 
word  compojition ;  after  which  it  goes  on  languidly,  and 
clofes  without  force.  This  blemifli  will  be  avoided  by 
the  following  arrangement : 

Were  inftru£tions  an  eflentlal  circumftance  in  epic  po- 
etry, 1  doubt  whether,  in  any  language,  a  fingle  inftancc 
could  be  given  of  this  fpecies  of  compofitlon. 

Some  of  our  moft  eminent  divines  have  made  ufe  of 
this  Platonic  notion,  as  far  as  it  regards  the  fubfiftence 
of  our  paflions  after  death,  with  great  beauty  and  ftrength 
of  reafon.  [Spedator,  N'*  90. 

Better  thus : 

Some  of  our  moft  eminent  divines  have,  with  great 
beauty  and  ftrength  of  reafon,  made  ufe  of  this  Plato- 
nic notion,  ijc. 

Men  of  the  beft  fenfe  have  been  touched,  more  or 
lefs,  with  thefe  groundlefs  horrors  and  prefages  of  fu- 
turity, upon  furveying  the  molt  indifferent  works  of  na- 
ture. {Spedalor,  N"  505. 

Better, 

Upon  furveying  the  moft  indiflPerent  works  of  nature, 
men  of  the  beft  lenfe,  tJc. 

She  foon  informed  him  of  the  place  he  was  in,  which, 
notwithftanding  all  its  horrors,  appeared  to  him  more 
fweet  than  the  bower  of  Mahomet,  in  the  company  of 
his  Balfora.  [Guardian,  N°  167. 

Better, 

She  foon,  Iffc.  appeared  to  him,  in  the  company  of 
his  Balfora,  more  fweet,  ^c. 

The  Emperor  was  fo  intent  on  the  eftablilhment  of 
his  at^folute  power  in  Hungary,  that  he  expofed  the  Em- 
pire doubly  to  defolalion  and  ruin  for  the  fake  of  it. 

Letters  on  hijiory,  <vol.  i.  let.  7.    Bolingbroke. 

Better, 

that  for  the  fake  of  it  he  expofed  the  Em- 
pire doubly  to  defolation  and  ruin. 

None  of  the  rules  for  the  compofition  of  periods  are 
Vol.  II.  C  more 


1 

t2  Beauty  OF  Lakcuage.     Ch.  XVIII. 

more  liable  to  be  abufeJ,  than  thofe  lad  mentioned  ; 
witnefs  many  Latin  writers,  among  the  moderns  efpe- 
cially,  whofe  ftyle,  by  inverfions  too  violent,  is  render- 
ed harfli  and  obfcure.  Sufpenfion  of  the  thought  till 
the  clofe  of  the  period,  ought  never  to  be  prefetred  be- 
fore perfpicuity.  Neither  ought  fuch  furpenfion  to  he 
attempted  in  a  long  period;  becaufe  in  that  cafe  the 
mind  is  bewildered  among  a  profulion  of  woids:  a  tra- 
veller, while  he  is  puzzled  about  the  road,  leliihes  not 
the  fined  profpefl : 

All  the  rich  prefents  which  Aftysges  had  given  him  at 
parting,  keeping  only  fome  Median  horfe?,  in  order  to  ' 
propagate  the  breed  of  rhem  in  Perfia,  he  diftrlbutcd  a- 
mong  his  friends  whom  he  left  at  the  court  of  Ecbatana. 

Tra'vels  of  Cyrus,  boik  i . 

The  foregoing  rules  concern  the  arrangement  of  a 
fingle  period  :  l^'add  one  rule  more  concerning  the  dif- 
tribution  of  a  difcourfe  into  different  peiiods.  A  ftoit 
period  is  lively  and  familiar  :  a  long  period,  requiring 
mere  attention',  makes  an  imprefiion  grave  and  folemn  *. 
In  general,  a  writer  ought  to  ftudy  a  mixture  of  long 
and  fhort  periods,  which  prevent  an  irkfome  unuormi- 
ty,  and  entertain  the  mind  with  variety  of  impreffions. 
In  particular,  long  periods  ought  to  be  avoided  till  the 
reader's  attention  be  thoroughly  engaged  ;  and  therefore 
a  difcourfe,  efpecially  of  the  familiar  kind,  ought  never 
to  be  introduced  with  a  long  period  :  for  that  reafon, 
the  commencement  of  a  letter  to  a  very  young  lady  on 
her  marriage  is  faulty  : 

Madam,  The  hurry  and  impertinence  of  receiving  and 
paying  vifits  on  account  of  your  marriage,  being  now 
over,  you  are  beginning  to  enter  into  a  courfe  ot  li.e, 
where  you  will  want  much  advice  to  divert  you  froni 
falling  into  many  errors,  fopperies,  and  folhes,  to  which 
your  fex  is  fubjea.  ^''''J^- 

See  another  example,  ftill  more  faulty,  in  the  com- 
mencement of  Cicero's  oration,  Pro  Archia  poeta. 

BeJore 


*  Demetrius  Phalereus  (or  Elocution,^  lea.  j^)^:' 

rves,  that  long  members  in 

on  of  gravity  and  importance 

tioa  is  applicable  to  periods. 


»•  uemetrius  rnuicicuo  \^^>   j^iv^v. ,  7  .  / 

ferves,  that  long  members  in  a  pe.iod  make  an  imj^rc.;- 
z-  :...  JIa  : .rfnnrp      Aiid  thc  lame  osier vi- 


Sea.II.        Beauty  OF  Language.  >3 

Before  we  proceed  farther,  it  may  be  proper  to  take 
a  review  of  the  rules  laid  down  in  (his  and  the  prece- 
ding fedtion,  in  order  to  make  fome  general  obfervations. 
That  order  of  the  words  and  members  of  a  period  is 
jultly  term.ed  natural,  which  correfponds  to  the  natu- 
ral order  of  the  ideas  that  compofe  the  thought.  The 
tendency  of  many  of  the  foregoing  rules  is  to  fubfti- 
tute  an  artificial  arrangement,  in  order  to  catch  fome 
beauty  either  of  found  or  meaning  for  which  there  is  no 
place  in  the  natural  order,  Dut  feldom  it  happens,  that 
in  the  fame  period  there  is  place  for  a  plurality  of  thefe 
rules:  if  one  beauty  can  be  retained,  another  muft  be 
relinquillied ;  and  the  only  queilion  is,  VVIiich  ought  to 
be  preferred.  This  is  a  queftion  tliat  cannot  be  refolv- 
ed  by  any  general  rule  ;  if  the  natural  order  be  not  re- 
iiflied,  a  few  trials  will  difcover  that  artificial  order 
which  has  the  befl;  efFeO:  ;  and  this  exercife,  fupported 
by  a  good  tafte,  will  in  time  make  the  choice  eafy.  All 
that  can  be  faid  in  general  is,  that  in  making  a  choice, 
found  ought  to  yield  to  fignification. 

The  tranfpofing  words  and  members  out  of  their  na- 
tural order,  fo  remaikable  in  the  learned  languages,  has 
been  the  fubje£t  of  much  fpeculation.  It  is  agreed  on 
all  hands,  that  fuch  traufpofition  or  inverfion  bellows 
'  upon  a  period  a  very  fenfible  degree  of  force  and  ele- 
vation ;  and  yet  writers  feem  to  be  at  a  lofs  in  what 
manner  to  account  for  that  effeft,  Cerceau  *  afcribes 
fo  much  power  to  inverfion,  as  to  make  it  the  charac- 
teriftic  of  French  verfe,  and  the  iingle  circumftance 
which  in  that  language  diflinguifhes  verfe  from  profe  : 
and  yet  he  pretends  not  to  fay,  that  it  hath  any  other 
power  but  to  raife  furprife  ;  he  muil  mean  curiofity, 
which  is  done  by  fufpending  the  thought  during  the  pe- 
riod, and  bringing  it  out  entire  at  the  clofe.  This  in- 
deed is  one  power  of  inverfion ;  but  neither  its  fole 
power,  nor  even  that  which  is  the  rnxil  remarkable,  as 
is  made  evident  above.  But  waving  cenfure,  which  is 
not  an  agreeable  ta(k,  I  enter  into  the  matter;  and  be- 
gin with  obferving,  that  if  conformity  between  words 
and  their  meaning  be  agreeable,  it  muft  of  courfe  be 
C  2  agreeable 

*  Refleflions  fur  la  oocfie  Francoife, 


54  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch. XVIII. 

agreeable  to  find  the  fame  order  or  arrangement  in  both. 
Hence  the  beauty  of  a  plain  or  natural  llj'le,  where  the 
order  of  the  words  correfponds  precifely  to  the  order 
of  the  ideas.  Nor  is  this  the  fingle  beauty  of  a  na'u- 
ral  ftyle  :  it  is  alio  agreeable  by  its  fimpliciry  and  per- 
fpicuity.  This  obfervation  throws  light  upon  the  lub- 
jeft :  for  if  a  natural  ftyle  be  in  itfelf  agreeable,  a  tranf- 
pofed  ftyle  cannot  be  fo  ;  and  therefore  its  agreeable- 
nefs  muft  arife  from  contributing  to  fome  poficive  beauty 
that  is  e::cluded  in  a  natural  ftyle.  To  be  confirmed 
in  this  opinion,  we  need  but  refleft  upon  fome  of  the 
foregoing  rules,  which  make  it  evident,  that  language, 
by  means  of  inveifion,  is  fufceptible  of  many  beauties 
that  are  totally  excluded  in  a  natural  arrangement.  From 
thefe  premifTes  it  clearly  follows,  that  inverlion  ought 
not  to  be  indulged,  unlefs  in  oider  to  reach  fome  beau- 
ty fiiperior  to  thofe  of  a  natural  ftyle.  It  may  with 
great  certainty  be  prpnounced,  that  every  inverfion, 
which  is  not  governed  by  this  rule,  will  appear  har(h 
and  ftrained,  and  be  difreliflied  by  every  one  of  tafte. 
Hence  the  beauty  of  inverfion  when  happily  condufted  ; 
the  beauty,  not  of  an  end,  but  of  means,  as  fumi/hing 
opportunity  for  numberlefs  ornaments  that  find  no  place 
in  a  natural  ftyle:  hence  the  force,  the  elevation,  the 
harmony,  the  cadence,  of  fome  compofitions  :  hence 
the  manifold  beauties  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  tongues, 
of  which  living  languages  afFoid  but  faint  imitations. 

SECT.      III. 

Beauty  of  language  from  a  refemblance  letiveen  found 
and  ftgn  if  cat  ion . 

A  Refemblance  between  the  found  of  certain  words 
and  their  fignificaiion,  is  a  beauty  that  has  efcap- 
ed  no  critical  writer,  and  yet  is  not  handled  with  accu- 
racy by  any  of  them.  They  have  probably  been  of 
opinion,  that  a  b-auty  fo  obvious  to  the  feeling,  re- 
quires no  explanation.  This  is  an  error;  and  to  avoid 
it,  I  ftiall  give  examples  of  the  vaiious  refemblances  be- 
tween found  and  fignification,  accompanied  with  an  en- 
deavour to  explain  wh)  fuch  refemblances  aie  beautiful. 
Fiill  of  examples  where  the  refemblance  between   the 

(ound 


Se£l:.III.         Beauty  of  Language.  55 

found  and  fi-Tnification  is  the  mod  entire,  and  next  where 
the  refeniblance  is  lefs  and  lefs  Co. 

There  being  frequently  a  rtrong  refemblance  of  one 
found  to  another,  ir  will  not  be  furprifing  to  find  an  ar- 
ticulate found  refenibling  one  that  is  noi  articulate; 
thus  the  found  of  a  bow-llring  is  imitated  by  the  words 
that  exprefs  it : 

The  ftring  let  fl/, 

T'wang'J Jhort  and  Jharp,  like  the  (hrill  fwallow's  cry, 

Odyffey  xxi.  449. 

The  found  of  felling  trees  in  a  wood  : 

Loud  founds  the  ax,  redoubling  ftrokes  on  ftrokes. 
On  all  fides  round  the  forell  hurls  her  oaks 
Headlong.    Deep  echoing  groan  the  thickets  brown. 
Then  rujHing,  crackling,  crajhiiig,  thunder  down. 

Iliad,  xxiii.    144. 

But  when  loud  furges  lafli  the  founding  iliore 
The  hoarfe  rough  verfe  ihould  like  the  torrent  roar. 

Popes  EJJay  on  Criticifm,  369.' 

No  perfon  can  be  at  a  lofs  about  the  caufe  of  this 
beauty  :  it  is  obvioufly   that  of  imitation. 

That  there  is  any  other  natural  refemblance  of  found, 
to  fignification,  muft  not  be  taken  for  granted.  There 
is  evidently  no  refemblance  of  found  to  motion,  nor  of 
found  to  fentiment.  In  this  matter  we  are  apt  to  be  de- 
ceived by  artful  pronunciation :  the  fame  paffage  may 
be  pronounced  in  many  different  tones,  elevated  or  hum- 
ble, fweet  or  harfli,  brifk  or  melancholy,  fo  as  to  ac- 
coid  with  the  thought-or  fentiment:  fuch  concord  muft 
be  diftingui(hed  from  that  concord  between  found  and 
fenfe,  which  is  perceived  in  fome  expreffions  indepen- 
dent of  artful  pronunciation  :  the  latter  is  the  poet's 
work  ;  the  former  mull  be  attributed  to  the  reader.  A- 
nother  thing  contributes  rtill  more  to  the  deceit :  in  lan- 
guage, found  and  fenfe  being  intimately  connected,  the 
properties  of  the  one  are  readily  com.municated  to  the 
other;  for  example,  the  quality  of  grandeur,  of  fweet- 
nf  fs,  or  of  melancholy,  though  belonging  to  the  thought 
folely,  is  transferred  to  the  words,  which  by  that  means 
refemble  in  appeal ance  the  thought  that  is  exprefled  by 
C  3  them. 


56  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

them  *.  I  have  great  reafon  to  re  commend  thefe  ob- 
lervations  to  the  reader,  coiilldeiing  how  inaccurately 
the  prefent  fubjetl  is  handled  by  ciiiics :  not  one  of  .them 
diftinguiilies  tiie  natural  refeniblance  of  found  and  lig- 
nihcatioii,  from  the  artificial  refemblances  now  defcri- 
bed  ;  witnefs  Vida  in  particular,  who  in  a  very  long 
pafTifge  has  given  very  few  examples  but  what  are  of 
the  latter  kind  f. 

That  there  may  be  a  refemblance  of  articulate  founds 
to  fonie  that  are  not  articulate,  is  felf-evident ;  and  that 
in  ta£t  there  exifl  fuch  refemblances  fuccefsfuUy  em- 
ploy'd  by  writers  of  genius,  is  clear  from  the  foregoing 
examples,  and  from  many  others  that  might  be  given. 
But  we  may  fafely  pronounce,  that  this  natural  lelem- 
blance  can  be  cariied  no  farther:  the  objeds  of  the 
diffeient  fenfes,  differ  {0  widely  from  each  other,  as  to 
exclude  any  refemblance  ;  found  in  particular,  whether 
articulate  or  inarticulate,  refembles  not  in  any  degree 
taile,  fmell,  nor  motion  j  and  as  little  can  it  refemble 
any  internal  fentiment,  feeling,  or  emotion.  But  mull 
we  then  admit,  that  nothing  but  found  can  be  imitated 
by  found  ?  Taking  imitation  in  its  proper  fenfe,  as  im- 
porting a  refemblance  between  two  objeds,  the  propo- 
fition  muft  be  admitted:  and  yet  in  many  pafFages  that 
are  not  defcriptivc  of  found,  every  one  mull  be  fenfible 
of  a  peculiar  concord  between  the  found  of  the  words 
and  their  meaning.  As  theie  can  be  no  doubt  of  the 
fad,  v/hat  remains  is  to  inquire  into  its  caufe. 

Refembling  caufes  may  produce  effeds  tb.at  have  no 
refemblance  J  and  caufes  that  have  no  refemblance  may 
produce  refembling  effeds.  A  mggnificent  building,  for 
example,  refembles  not  in  any  degree  an  heroic  adion  ; 
and  yet  the  emotions  they  produce,  are  concordant,  and 
bear  a  refemblance  to  each  other.  We  are  liiil  more 
fenfible  of  this  refemblance  in  a  fong,  when  the  mafic 
is  properly  adapted  to  the  fentiment :  there  is  no  refem- 
blance between  thouoht  and  found  j  but  there  is  the 
flrongeft:  refemblance  between  the  emotion  raifed  by 
mulic  tender  and  pathetic,  and  that  raifed  by  the  com- 
plaint 

*  See  chap.  2    part  i:   fed.  5. 
t  Poet,  L,  3.  1.  365 454. 


Se^.m.         Beauty  OF  Lakguage.  57 

plaint  of  an  unfuccefsful  lover.  When  we  apply  this 
oblervation  to  the  prefent  fubjedt,  it  will  appear,  that 
in  fome  inlUnces,  the  found  even  of  a  fingle  word  makes 
an  invieillon  refembling  that  which  is  made  by  the  thing 
it  fionifies;  witnefs  the  word  running,  compofed  of  two 
fliorl  fyilables ;  and  more  remarkably  the  words  rapidi- 
ty, impetucfity,  precipitation.  Brutal  manners  produce 
in  the  fpedator  an  emotion  not  unlike  what  is  produced 
by. a  harft  and  rough  found  ;  and  hence  the  beauty  of 
the  figurative  expreillon,  rugged  manners.  Again,  the 
\vo\d  little,  being  pronounced  with  a  very  fmall  aperture 
of  the  mouth,  has  a  weak  and  faint  found,  which  makes 
an  impreliion  refembling  that  made  by  a  diminutive  ob- 
jeft.  'This  lefemblance  of  efFedts  is  dill  more  remark- 
able where  a  number  of  words  are  connedcd  together 
in  a  period  ;  words  pronounced  in  fuccelFion  make  of- 
ten a  drong  iinprelTion  ;  and  when  this  impreflion  hap- 
pens to  accord  with  that  made  by  the  fenfe,  we  are  fin- 
lible  of  a  complex  emotion,  peculiarly  pleafant ;  one 
proceeding  from  the  fentiment,  and  one  from  the  me- 
lody or  found  of  the  words.  But  the  chief  pleafure 
proceeds  from  havi.ig  thefe  two  concordant  emotions 
combined  in  perfcQ  harmony,  and  carried  on  in  the  inintl 
to  a  full  clofe  *.  Except  in  the  fmgle  cafe  v/here  found 
isdefcribed,  all  the  examples  given  by  critics  of  fenfe 
being  imitated  in  found,  refolve  into  a  refemblance  of 
etfeds :  emotions  raifed  by  found  and  lignification  may 
have  a  refemblance;  but  found  itfelf  cannot  have  a  re- 
femblance to  any  thing  but  found. 

Proceeding  now  to  pariiculars,  and  beginning  with 
thofe  cafes  where  the  emotions  have  the  ftrongeft  re- 
femblance, I  obferve,  firll.  That  by  a  number  of  fylla- 
Lies  in  fucceifion,  an  emotion  is  (ometimes  raifed,  ex- 
tremely fimilar  to  that  raifed  by  fucceffive  motion  ;  which 
may  be  evident  even  to  thofe  who  are  defedive  in  tade, 
from  the  following  fad,  that  the  term  mo^vement  in  all 
languages  is  equally  apply'd  to  both.  In  this  manner, 
fuccedive  motion,  fuch  as  walking,  running,  galloping, 
can  be  iiiutated  by  a  fuccedlon  of  long  or  fliort  fylla- 
b!cs,  or  by  a  due  mixture  of  both  :  for  example,  flow 
C  4  motion 

*  See  chap.  2.  part  4. 


5?  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

motion  may  be  juftly  imitated  in  a  verfe  where  long  fjl' 
lables  prevail  ;  efpecially  when  aided  by  a  (low  pro- 
nunciation : 

llli  inter  fefe  magna  vi  brachia  toliunt. 

Georg.  iv.   i  74. 
On  the  other  hand,  fwift  motion  is  imitated  by  a  fuc- 
ceflion  of  fhort  fyllables  ; 

Quadrupedante  putrem  fonitu  quatit  ungula  campum. 
Again : 

Radit  iter  liquidum,  celeres  neque  commovet  alas. 
Thirdly,  A  line  compofed  of  monofyllables,    makes 
an  imprefllon,   by  the  frequency  of  its  paufes,  fnnilar 
to  what  is  made  by  laborious  interrupted  motion: 

With  many  a  weary  ftep,  and  many  a  groan, 
Up  the  high  hill  he  heaves  a  huge  round  ftone- 

Odyjeyy  xi.    736. 
Firft  march  the  heavy  mules  fecurely  flow ; 
O'er  hills,  o'er  dales,  o'er  craggs,  o'er  rocks  they  go. 

Iliad,  xxiii.   138. 

Fourthly,  The  impreflion  made  by  rough  founds  in 
fucceffion,  refembles  that  made  by  rough  or  tumultuous 
motion  :  on  the  other  hand,  the  impreflion  of  fmooth 
founds  refembles  that  of  gentle  motion.  The  follow- 
ing is  an  example  of  both. 

Two  craggy  rocks  projefting  to  the  main, 
The  roaring  wind's  tenipeftuous  rage  reftrainj 
Within,  the  waves  in  fofter  murmurs  glide, 
And  Ihips  fecure  without  their  baulfers  ride. 

Odyjfey,  iii.    1 18. 
Another  example  of  the  latter ; 

Soft  is  the  ftrain  when  Zephyr  gently  blows. 

And  the  fmooth  ftream  in  fmoother  numbers  flows. 

EJjny  on  Ctit.  366. 

Fifthly,  Prolonged  motion  is  expreffed  in  an  Alexan- 
drine line.  The  firft  example  (hall  be  of  flow  motion 
prolonged  : 

A  needlefs  Alexandrine  ends  the  fong  ; 

That, 


Se<5l.  III.        Beauty  OF  Langl -.GE.  ^9 

That,  like  a  wounded  fnake,  drags  its  flow  length  along. 

Ejjay  on  Crit.   356. 

The  next  example  is  of  forcible  motion  prolonged  : 

The  waves  behind  impel  the  waves  before, 
VVide-roiJing,  foaming  high,  and  tumbling  to  the  fliore; 

Iliad,  xiii.    1004. 

The  lafl  fhal!  be  of  rapid  motion  prolonged  : 
Not  fo  when  Swift  Camilla  fcours  the  plain, 
Mies  o'er  th'  unbending  corn,  and  fkims  along  the  main. 

EjJay  on  Crit.  373. 

Again,  fpeaking  of  a   rock   torn  from   the  brow  of  a 
Hioutuain  : 

Still  gath'ring  force,  it  fmokes,  and  urg'd  amain, 
Whirls,  leaps,  and  thunders  down,  impetuous  to  the 
plain.  Iliad,  xiii.    197. 

Sixthly,  A  period  confining  moftly  of  long  fyllables, 
that  is,  of  fyllables  pronounced  flow,  produceth  an  emo- 
tion refembling  laintly  that  which  is  produced  by  gra- 
vity and  folemnity.  Hence  the  beauty  of  the  following 
veife  : 

Olli  fedato  refpondit  corde  Latinus. 

Seventhly,  A  flow  fucceflion  of  ideas   is  a  circum- 
n.ance  that  belongs  equally  to  fettled  melancholy,  and  to 
a  period  cojnpolcd  of  polyfyllables   pronounced   flow  j 
and  hence,  by  fimilarity  of  emotions,   the  latter  is  imi-- 
taiii'e  of  the  former: 

In  thofe  deep  folitudes,  and  awful  cells. 
Where  heav'nly  penfive  Contemplation  dwells;, 
And  ev'er-muling  Melancholy  reigns. 

Pope,  Eloifa  to  Melard, 
Eightly,  A  long  fyllable  made  ihort,  or  a  fhort  fy lia- 
ble made  long,  raifes,  by  the  difficulty  of  pronouncing 
contrary  to  cuftom,  a  feeling  limilar   to  that  of  hard 
labour  ; 

When  Ajax  drives  fome  rock's  'vajl  weight  to  throw. 
The  line  too  labours,  and  the  words  move  flow, 

EJJay  on  Crit.   370, 

Ninthly,  Har/h  or  rough  words  pronounced  with  dif- 

^  5  ficult/> 


6o  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

ficulty,  excite  a  feeling  refembling  that  which  proceeds 
from  the  labour  of  thought  to  a  dull  writer : 

Juft  wiites  to  make  his  barrennefs  appear, 
And  llrains  from  hard  bound  brains  eight  lines  a  year. 
Pope's  epiflle  to  Dr  /Irbuthtiot,  I.  i8(. 

I  (hall  clofe  with  one  example  more,  which  of  all 
makes  the  fined  figute.  In  the  firlt  fetlion  mention  is 
made  of  a  climax  in  found  ;  and  in  the  fecond  of  a 
climax  in  lenfe.  It  belongs  to  the  prefeiit  fiibjetl 
to'  obferve,  that  when  thefe  coincide  in  the  fame  paf- 
fage,  the  concordance  of  found  and  fenfe  is  deligiit- 
ful  ;  the  reader  is  co.-ifcious  not  only  of  pleafure  from 
the  tvvo  climaxes  feparately,  but  of  an  additional  plea- 
fure from  their  concordance,  and  from  finding  the  i^nis 
fo  juftly  imitated  by  the  found.  In  this  refpeCt,  no  pe- 
riods are  more  perfetl  than  thofe  borrowed  from  Cicero 
in  the  fiift  fedlion. 

The  concord  between  fenfe  and  found  is  not  lefs  a- 
greeabie  in  what  may  be  termed  an  anticHm;/;-:,  where 
the  progrefs  is  from  great  to  little  ;  for  this  has  the  ef- 
fect to  make  diminutive  objefts  appear  ftill  more  dimi- 
nutive.    Horace  afFords-a  ilriking  example: 

Parcuriunt  monies,  nafcetur  ridiculus  mus. 
The  arrangement  he;e  is  fingularly  artful :  the  firft  place 
IS  occupied  by  the  verb,  which  is  the  capital  word  by 
its  fenfe  as  well  as  jound :  the  clofe  is  relerved  for  the 
■word  that  is  the  meanefl:  in  fenfe  as  well  as  in  found  : 
and  it  muft  not  be  over!uo!:ed,  that  the  refembling 
founds  of  the  two  hill  fyllables  give  a  ludicrous  air  to 
the  whole. 

Reviewing  the  foregoing  example?,  it  appears  to  me, 
contrary  to  expeftation,  that  in  palling  from  the  flrong- 
elt  refemblances  to  thofe  that  are  faiiiter,  e^v'ery  ftep  af- 
fods  additional  pleafure.  Renewing  the  experiment 
arralii  and  again,  I  feel  no  waveriig,  but  the  greatcft 
pleafure  conllantly  from  the  fainteil:  refemblances.  And 
jct  how  can  this  be?  fo.  if  the  pleafure  lie  in  imitati- 
on, muil  not  the  ftrongeil:  refemblance  afford  the  greateft 
pleafure.^  From  this  vexing  dilemma  I  am  happily  re- 
lieved, by  relkcling  on  a  doctrine  eftablifned  in  the  chap- 
ter of  refemblance  and  contrail,  that  the  pleafure  of 
refemblance  is  the  gieareil:,  where  it  is  leatl  expeded, 

and 


Se6l.  Ilf.         Beauty  of  Language.  5i 

nnd  where  the  objefls  compared  are  in  their  capital  cir- 
cimiflnnces  widely  different.  Nor  will  this  appear  fur- 
prilin^,  when  we  defcend  to  famih'ar  examples:  it  rai- 
ieth  no  degree  of  wonder  to  find  the  nioft  perfeft  re- 
ieuiblar.ce  between  two  eggs  of  the  fame  bird  :  it  is  more 
la-e  to  find  fuch  refemblance  between  two  human  faces; 
and  upon  that  account  fuch  an  appearance  raifes  fonie 
degree  ot  wonder :  but  this  emotion  rifes  to  a  ftill  great- 
er height,  when  we  find  in  a  pebble,  an  agite,  or  other 
natural  prvpdu6tion,  any  refciv.blance  to  a  tree  or  to  any 
oteani'ed  body.  We  cannot  hefitate  a  moment,  in  ap- 
plying thefe  obfervations  to  the  prefent  fubjed :  what 
occafion  of  wonder  can  it  be  to  find  one  found  lefem- 
bling  another,  where  both  are  of  the  fame  kind  ?  it  is 
not  fo  common  to  find  a  refemblance  between  an  articu- 
late fourd  and  one  not  articulate  ;  which  accordingly 
sfFords  i'oMe  flight  pleafure  :  but  the  pleafure  fwells 
greatly,  when  we  employ  found  to  imitate  things  it  re- 
fembles  not  otherwife  than  by  the  effects  produced  in 
the  hiind. 

I  hive  had  occalion  to  obferve,  that  to  complete  "the 
refemblance  between  found  and  fenfe,  artful  pronunci- 
ation contributes  not  a  little.  Pronunciation  therefore 
m^y  be  confidered  as  a  branch  of  the  prefent  fubjedt  j 
and  with  fome  obfervations  upon  it  the  fedion  fliall  be 
concluded.      - 

In  order  to  give  .a  jiift  idea  of  pronunciation,  it  muH 
be  dirtinguifheJ  liom  finging  :  the  latter  is  carried  on  by 
n^tes,  requ  ring  each  ot  ihem  a  ditftrent  aperture  of  the 
wiiid[.ipe:  the  note,  properly  belonging  to  the  former, 
iire  exprefled  by  diticrent  apei  tuies  of  the  mouth,  with- 
OU'  varying  the  aperfu:e  of  the  windpipe.  This  how- 
ever doth  nut  hinuev  pronunciation  to  borrow  from  fing- 
ing,  as  one  lometmics  is  naturally  led  to  co,  in  expief= 
ling  a  vehement  p.iii  o. 

In  reading,  a.s  in  finging,  there  is  a  key-note  :  above 
this  n.'te  ihe  voice  is  tiequenty  eievated,  to  make  t.ie 
found  coirefpoud  to  tne  elevation  ot  the  fubj-c-ft .  but 
the  mind  in  an  elevated  llate,  is  di'pof^tl  o  .idion  j 
therefore,  in  order  to  a  reft,  it  muil:  b^  b'OiJ^ht  uown 
to  the  kvy  nv.te.     Hence  the  term  cud?nce. 

The  only  general  rule  tiiac  can  be  given  for  dire6ting 

the 


62  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

the  pronunciation,  is,  To  found  the  words  in  fuch  a 
manner  as  to  imitate  the  things  they  flgnify.  In  pro- 
nouncing words  fignifying  what  is  elevated,  the  voice 
ought  to  be  raifed  above  its  ordinary  tone  ;  and  words 
lignifying  dejedion  of  mind,  ought  to  be  pronounced 
in  a  low  note:  to  imitate  a  ftern  and  impetuous  pafllon, 
the  words  ought  to  be  pronounced  rough  and  loud  :  a 
(weet  and  kindly  pafTion,  on  the  contrary,  ought  to  be 
imitated  by  a  foft  and  melodious  tone  of  voice  :  in 
Dryden's  ode  of  Jlexanders  feaff,  the  line,  Fa/n,  faln^ 
fairly  fain,  reprefents  a  gradual  finking  of  the  mind, 
and  therefore  is  pronounced  with  a  falling  voice  by  eve. 
ry  one  of  tafte,  without  inftruflion.  In  general,  words 
that  make  the  greatell:  figure  ought  to  be  marked  with 
a  peculiar  cmphafis.  Another  circumftance  contributes 
to  the  refemblance  between  fenfe  and  found,  which  is 
flow  or  quick  pronunciation:  for  though  the  length  or 
Ihortnefs  of  the  fyllables  with  relation  to  each  other,  be 
in  profe  afcertained  in  fome  rneafure,  and  in  verfe  ai-- 
ways ;  vet  taking  a  whole  line  or  period  together,  it  may 
be  pronounced  flow  or  faft.  A  period  accordingly  ought 
to  be  pronounced  flow,  when  it  exprefl'es  what  is  fo- 
lemn  or  deliberate;  and  ought  to  be  pronounced  quick, 
when  it  exprefl'es  what  is  briflc,  lively,  or  impetuous. 

The  art  of  pronouncing  with  propriety  and  grace,  be- 
ing calculated  to  make  the  found  an  echo  to  the  fenfe, 
fcarce  admits  of  any  other  general  rule  than  thr.t  above 
mentioned.  It  may  indeed  be  branched  out  into  many 
particular  rules  and  obfervaiions :  but  thefe  belong  not 
properly  to  the  prefent  undertaking,  becaufe  no  language 
furniflieth  words  to  lignify  the  different  degrees  of  high 
and  low,  loud  and  loft,  fall  and  flow.  Before  thefe  dif- 
ferences can  be  made  the  fubjeft  of  regular  inltruftion, 
notes  mull:  be  invented  refembling  thofe  employ'd  in  mu- 
fie:  we  have  reafon  to  believe,  that  in  Greece  every 
tragedy  was  accompanied  with  fuch  notes,  in  order  to 
afcertain  the  pronunciation  ;  but  the  moderns  hitherto 
kave  nst  thought  of  this  refinement.  Cicero  indeed  *, 
without  the  help  of  notes,  pretends  to  give  rules  for  af- 
oertaining  the  various  tones  of  voice  that  are  proper  in 

exprelling 

♦  De  oratore,  1.  3.  cap.  58, 


Seft.  III.         Beauty  OF  Language.  63 

exprefling  the  different  pafllons  ;  and  it  mufi:  be  acknow- 
ledged, that  in  this  attempt  he  hath  exhaufted  the  whole 
power  of  language  At  the  fame  time,  every  peifon  of 
difcernment  will  perceive,  that  thefe  rules  avail  Httie  in 
point  of  inflrudion  :  the.  very  words  he  employs,  are 
not  intelligible,  except  to  thofe  who  beforehand  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  fubjeCt 

To  vary  the  fctne  a  little,  I  propofe  to  cloie  with  a 
flight  comparifon  between  finging  and  pronouncing.  la 
this  comparifon,  the  five  following  circuniltances  rela- 
tive to  articulate  found,  muff  be  kept  in  view,  ill,  A 
found  or  fyllable  is  haifii  or  fmooth  2d,  It  is  long  or 
ihort.  3d,  It  is  pronounced  high  or  low.  4th,  ic  is 
pronounced  loud  or  foft  And,  laftly.  A  number  of 
words  in  fuccelTion,  conftituting  a  period -or  member  of 
a  period,  are  pronounced  flow  or  quick.  Of  thefe  five 
the  firft  depending  on  the  component  letters,  and  the 
fecond  being  afcertained  by  cuftom,  admit  not  any  va- 
riety in  pronouncing.  The  three  laft  are  arbitrary,  de- 
pending on  the  will  of  the  perfon  who  pronounces ;  and 
it  is  chiefly  in  the  artful  management  of  thefe  that  juft 
pronunciation  confills.  With  relpc£t  to  the  firit  circum- 
ftance,  mufic  has  evidently  the  advantage ;  for  all  its 
notes  are  agreeable  to  the  ear;  which  is  not  always  the 
cafe  ot  articulate  found.  With  refpefl  to  the  fecond, 
long  and  (hort  fyllables  varioufly  combined,  produce  a 
great  variety  of  feet ;  yet  far  inferior  to  the  variety  that 
is  found  in  the  multiplied  combinations  of  mufical  notes. 
With  refpeft  to  high  and  low  notes,  pr'bnunciation  is 
ftill  more  inferior  to  finging ;  for  it  is  obferved  by  Dio- 
nyfius  of  Halicarnaffus  *,  that  in  pronouncing,  /.  e. 
without  altering  the  aperture  of  the  windpipe,  the  voice 
is  confined  within  three  notes  and  a  half:  finging  has  a 
much  greater  compafs.  With  refpc<St  to  the  two  lafl: 
circumftances,  pronunciation  equals  finging. 

In  this  chapter,  I  have  mentioned  none  of  the  beau- 
ties of  language  but  what  arife  from  words  taken  la 
their  proper  fenfe.  Jkauties  that  depend  on  the  meta- 
phorical and  figurative  power  of  words,  are  referved  to 
be  treated  chap.  20. 

*  Dc  ftruftura  orationis,  kO.,  2. 

SECT. 


64  -Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

SECT.      IV. 

F  E  R  S  I  F  1  C  A  T  ]  0  N. 

THE  mnfic  of  verfc,  though  handled  hy  every 
graiiiiiiaiian,  merirs  more  attention  thin  it  has 
been  honoured  v.'i:h.  It  is  a  fubject  ^ntimnte^y  connect- 
ed with  human  narurej  and  to  explain  it  thoroughly, 
il;veral  nice  and  delic!i':e  feelings  muft  be  employ'd.  But 
before  entering  upon  it,  we  niuil  fee  what  verfe  is,  or, 
in  other  words,  by  \vhat  mark  it  is  didinguilhed  from 
profe ;  a  point  not  fo  cafy  as  may  at  firfl:  be  apprehend- 
ed. It  is  true  that  the  conftruftion  of  verfe  is  govern- 
ed by  precife  rules ;  whereas  profe  is  more  ioole,  ard 
fcarce  fubjeded  to  any  rules.  •  But  are  the  many  who 
know  nothing  of  rules,  left  v/ithcut  means  to  make  the 
diftindlion  ?  and  even  with  refpeft  to  the  learned,  nudl 
they  apply  the  rule  before  they  can  with  certainty  pro- 
nounce whether  the  conipofition  be  profe  or  verfe  ?  This 
will  hardly  be  maintained  3  and  therefore,  inftead  of 
rules,  the  ear  muil  be  appealed  to  as  the  proper  judge. 
But  what  gain  we  by  being  thus  referred  to  another 
flandard ;  for  it  ftill  recurs,  V>y  what  mark  does  the  ear 
ditlinguiili  verfe  f  om  prole  ?  The  proper  and  fatisfac- 
tory  anfwer  is,  Tiiat  thefe  make  diiTeren:  imprciricns 
upon  every  one  who  hath  an  ear.  This  advances  us 
one  ftep  in  our  inquiry. 

T.  king  it  then  for  granted,  thaf'verfe  and  profe  make 
upon  the  ear  different  inipreffionsj  nothing  remains  but 
to  explain  this  difference,  and  to  aiiign  its  caufe.  To 
this  end,  I  call  to  my  aid  an  oblervation  made  above 
upon  the  f<.ur.d  of  woids,  that  they  are  more  r.greeable 
to  the  ear  when  compoled  of  long  or  (hort  lyilables, 
than  when  all  the  fyllables  are  oi  the  fauic  ibit:  a  con- 
tinued found  in  the  lame  tone,  nakes  not  a  mufical  im- 
prelfioii :  the  fame  note  fuccellively  renewed  by  inter- 
vals, is  n  ore  agreeable;  but  ftill  u.akes  not  a  mufical 
in;pielIion.  To  produce  that  iniprrlTicn,  vaiiety  is  ne-' 
ctifary  as  well  as  number  :  the  luccclfive  lou.ids  or  fyl- 
lables,  mult  be  fome  o\  t  ,eai  long,  louie  or  them  fliort; 
and  it  alfo  high  and  low,  the  muhc  is  the  more  pei/tct. 
The  mufical  impieiriun  made  b;-  a  petiou  confuting  of 

long 


Se£i:. IV.         Beaut V  of  Language.  65 

long  and  fhort  fyllables  arranged  in  a  certain  order,  \s 
what  the  Greeks  call  rbytbmus,  the  Latins  numerus, 
and  we  melody  or  meafure.  Cicero  jiiftly  obferves,  that 
in  one  continued  found  there  is  no  luelociy:  "  Numerus 
"  in  continuatione  nullus  eft."  But  in  what  follows  he 
is  wide  of  the  truth,  if  by  nutiierus  he  mean  melody  or 
mufical  meafure:  "  D-ftinflio,  et  squalium  et  fsepe  va- 
"  riorum  intervalloruni  percullio,  numerum  cc-ficitj 
"  quern  in  cadentibus  guttis,  quod  intervallis  diflingu- 
♦'  untur,  notare  pofTumus."  Falling  drops,  whether 
with  equal  or  unequal  intervals,  are  ceitainly  not  mu- 
fic  :  we  are  not  fenlible  of  a  mufical  expreflion  but  in 
a  fucceffion  of  long  and  fhoit  notes  And  this  alfo  was 
probably  the  opi.-.ion  of  the  author  cited,  though  his 
expreifion  be  a  little  unguarded  *. 

ft  will  probably  occur,  that  melody,  if  it  depend  on 
long  and  fhort  lyllables  combined  in  a  fentence,  may  be 
found  in  profe  as  well  as  in  verfe ;  confidering  efpeci- 
ally,  that  in  both,  particular  words  are  accented  or  pro- 
nounced in  a  higher  tone  than  the  reft  ;  and  therefore 
that  verfe  cannot  be  diilinguifhed  from  profe  by  melody 
merely.  The  obfervation  is  jull:  j  and  it  follows,  that 
the  riillindlion  between  them,  fince  it  depends  not  fing- 
ly  on  melody,  mull;  arife  from  the  dItFerence  of  the  me- 
lody:  which  is  precifely  the  cafe;  though  that  differ- 
ence cannot  with  any  accuracy  be  explained  in  words  ; 
ail  that  can  be  faid  is,  that  verfe  is  more  mufical  tharj 
profe,  and  its  melody  more  perfect.  The  difference  be- 
tween verfe  and  profe,  refembles  the  difference  in  mu- 
fic  properly  fo  called  between  the  fong  and  the  recita- 
tive:  and  the  refemblance  is  not  the  lefs  complete,  that 
thefe  differences,  like  the  (hades  of  colours,  approximate 
fometimes  fo  nearly  as  fcarce  to  be  difcernible :  the  me- 
lody 


*  From  this  paffage,  however,  we  difcover  the  ety- 
mology of  the  Ladn  term  for  mufical  exprefiion.  Every 
one  being  fenfible  that  there  is  no  mufic  in  a  continued 
found  ;  the  firft  inquiries  were  probably  carried  no  far- 
ther than  to  difcover,  that  to  produce  a  mufical  exprefli- 
on a  number  of  founds  is  neceffary ;  and  mufical  exprefli- 
on obtained  the  name  of  numerus,  before  it  was  clearly 
afcertained,  that  variety  is  necslfary  as  well  as  number. 


66  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.XVlII. 

lody  of  a  recitative  approaches  foinetimes  to  that  of  a 
fong;  which,  on  the  other  hand,  degenerates  fometimes 
toward  a  plain  recitative.  Nothing  is  more  diftinguiih-  . 
able  from  profe,  than  the  bulk  of  Virgil's  Hexameters: 
many  of  thofe  cnmpofed  by  Horace,  are  very  little  re- 
moved from  profe  :  Sapnhic  verfe  has  a  very  fenfible 
melody :  that,  on  the  other  hand,  of  an  Iambic,  is  ex- 
tremelv  faint  *. 

This  more  perfed  melody  of  articulate  founds,  is 
what  diftinguifheth  veife  from  profe.  Verfe  is  fubjed- 
ed  to  certain  inflexible  laws;  the  number  and  variety  of 
the  component  fyllables  being  afcertained,  and  in  fome 
meafure  the  order  of  fucceffion.  Such  reftraint  makes 
it  a  matter  of  difficulty  to  compofe  in  verfe;  a  difficul- 
ty that  is  not  to  be  furmounted  but  by  a  peculiar  geni- 
us. Ufeful  leffons  convey'd  to  us  in  verfe,  are  agreea- 
ble by  the  union  of  mulic  with  inftrudtion  :  but  are  we 
for  that  reafon  to  rejeft  knowledge  offered  in  a  plainer 
drefs  ?  That  would  be  ridiculous  j  for  knowledge  is  of 
intrinfic  merit,  independent  of  the  means  of  acquifiti- 
on  ;  and  there  are  many,  not  lefs  capable  than  willing 
to  initrufl  us,  who  have  no  genius  for  verfe.  Hence 
the  ufe  of  profe;  which,  fox  the  reafon  now  given,  is 
not  confined  to  precife  rules.  There  belongs  to  it,  a 
certain  melody  of  an  inferior  kind,  which,  being  extreme- 
ly ornamental,  ought  to  be  the  aim  of  every  v/riter  ;. 
but  for  lucceeding  ia  it,  praftice  is  neceflary  more  than  - 
genius.  Nor  do  we  rigidly  infiit  for  melodious  profe: 
provided  the  work  convey  inftrudtion,  its  chief  end,  we 
are  the  lefs  follicitous  about  its  drefs. 

Havmg  afcertained  the  nature  and  limits  of  our  fub- • 
je<5t,  1  proceed  to  the  laws  by  which  it  is  regulated, 
Thefe  would  be  endlefs,  were  verfe  of  all  different  kinds 
to  be  taken  under  confiJeration.  1  propofe  theitfore  to 
confine  the  inquiry,  to  Latin  or  Greek  Hexameter,  and. 
to  French  and  Englifh  Heroic  verfe ;    which  perhaps 

may 

*  Mufic,  properly  lo  called,  is  analyfed  into  melody 
and  harmony.  A  lucceilion  of  founds  fo  as  to  be  a- 
greeable  to  the  ear,  conftitutes  melody  :  harmony  arifes 
from  coexiiiing  founds.  Verfe  therefore  can  only  reach 
melody,  and  no{  harmony. 


Sc£^.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  6j 

ivay  carry  me  farther  than  the  reader  will  chufe  to  fol- 
low. The  obfervations  I  ftiall  have  cccafion  to  make, 
will  at  any  rate  be  fufficient  for  a  fpecimen  ;  and  thefe, 
with  proper  variations,  may  cafily  be  transferred  to  the 
compofition  of  other  forts  of  verfe. 

Before  I  enter  upon  particulars,  it  muft  be  premifed 
in  general,  that  to  verfe  of  every  kind,  five  things  are 
of  importance,  ift.  The  number  ot  fyllables  that  com- 
pofe  a  verfe.  2d,  The  different  lengths  of  fyllables, 
i.  e.  the  difference  of  time  taken  in  pronouncing.  3d, 
The  arrangement  of  thefe  fyllables  combined  in  words. 
4th,  The  paufes  or  (tops  in  pronouncing.  5th,  Pro- 
nouncing fyilables  in  a  high  or  a  low  tone.  The  three 
firfl:  mentioned  are  obvioufly  eflential  to  verfe  :  if  any 
of  them  be  v^^anting,  there  cannot  be  that  higher  deg;ree 
of  melody  which  diftinguifheth  verfe  <rom  profe.  To 
give  a  juft  notion  of  the  fourth,  it  muil  be  obferved, 
that  paufes  are  neceffary  for  three  different  purpofes  : 
one,  to  feparate  periods,  and  members  of  the  fame  pe- 
riod, according  to  the  fenfe  :  another,  to  improve  the 
melody  of  verfe:  and  the  laft,  to  afford  opportunity  for 
drawing  breath  in  reading,  A  paufe  of  the  firft  kind  is 
variable,  being  long  or  fhort,  frequent  or  lefs  frequent, 
as  the  fenfe  requires.  A  paufe  of  the  fecond  kind,  be- 
ing determined  by  the  melody,  is  in  no  degiee  arbitrary. 
The  laft  fort  is  in  a  meulure  arbitrary,  depending  oa 
the  reader's  conunand  of  breath.  But  as  o:ie  cannot 
read  with  grace,  uniefs,  for  drawing  breath,  opportu- 
nity be  taken  of  a  pauie  in  the  fenle  or  in  the  m.elody, 
this  paufe  ought  never  to  be  diltinguiflied  from  the  o- 
thers;  and  for  that  reafon  may  be  laid  afide.  With  re- 
fpedl  then  to  the  paufes  of  fenCe  and  of  melody,  it  may 
be  affirmed  without  hefication,  that  their  coincidence  in 
verfe  is  a  capital  beauty:  but  as  it  cannot  be  expeded, 
in  a  long  work  efpecially,  that  every  line  ihould  be  Co 
perfedt ;  we  fhall  afterward  have  occasion  to  fee,  that 
the  paufe  neceffary  for  the  fenfe  muft  often,  in  fome  de- 
gree, be  facrificcd  to  the  verle-paufe,  and  the  latter 
lometimes  to  the  former. 

1  he  pronouncing  fyllables  in  a  high  or  low  tone,  con- 
tributes alio  to  melody.  In  reading,  v/hether  verfe  or 
profe,  a  certain   tone  is  affiimed,  which  may  be   called 

the 


68-  Beauty  or  Lan'cu  AGE.     Ch.  XVIII. 

the  key  note  ;  and  in  that  tone  the  bulk  of  the  words 
are  founded.  Sometimes  to  humour  the  fenfe,  and 
fonietimes  the  melody,  a  particular  fyllable  is  founded 
in  a  higher  tone  ;  and  this  is  termed  accenting  n  fylla- 
hle,  or  gracing  it  with  an  accent.  Oppofed  to  the  ac- 
cent, is  the  cadence,  which  I  have  not  mentioned  as  one 
of  the  requifites  of  verfe,  bccaufe  it  is  entirely  regula- 
ted by  the  fenfe,  and  hath  no  peculiar  relation  to  verfe. 
The  cadence  is  a  falling  of  the.  voice  below  she  key- 
note at  the  clofe  of  every  period;  and  fo  little  is  it  ef- 
fential  to  verfe,  that  in  coriccl  rc-aditig  the  final  fyllable 
of  every  lir.e  is  accented,  that  fyllable  only  excepted 
which  clofes  the  period,  where  the  leafe  requires  a  ca- 
dence. The  reader  may  be  fatiGfied  of  this  by  experi- 
nients ;  and  for  that  purpofe  I  recommend  to  him  the 
Rape  of  the  Lock,  which,  in  point  of  verfilication,  is  the 
inoft  complete  performance  in  the  Englifh  language  Let, . 
him  confult  in  particular  a  peiiod  caoto  2.  beginning  at' 
line  47.  and  clofed  line  52.  with  the  word  gay,  which 
only  of  the  whole  final  fyllables  is  pronounced  with  a 
cadence.  He  may  alfo  esaniine  another  period  in  ths 
5th  canto,  which  runs  from  line  45.  to  line  52. 

Though  the  five  requifites  above  mentioned,  enter 
the  compofition  of  every  fpecies  of  verle,  they  are  how- 
ever governed  by  diiferent  rules,  peculiar  to  each  fpe- 
cies. Upon  quantity  oijly,  one  general  oblervation  may 
be  premifed,  becaufe  it  is  applicable  to  every  fpecies  of 
verie,  That  fyllables,  with  refpeft  to  the  time  taken  in 
pronouncing,  are  long  or  fhort ;  tv.'o  fhort  fyllables,  with 
refpe<5l  to  time,  being  precifely  eiuial  to  a  long  one. 
Thele  two  lan^ths  a^e  esfential  to  verfe  of  all  kinds  ; 
and  to  no  verfe,  fo  far  as  I  know,  is  a  greater  variety 
of  time  neceiftry  in  pronouncing  fylhrbles.  .  The  voico 
indeed  is  frequently  made  to  reft  longer  than  ufual,  up- 
on a  word  that  bears^  an  important  hgaification  ;  but 
that  is  done  to  hum.our  the  fenle,  and  is  not  nccelfary 
for  melody.  A  thing  not  more  necelfary  for  melody  oc- 
curs with  refpeft  to  accenting,  fi:iular  to  that  now  men- 
tioned:  A  word  figni:ymg  any  thing  humble,  low,  or 
dejeded,  13  naturally,  in  pr^fe  as  well  as  in  verte,  pro- 
nounced in  a  tone  below  the  key-note. 

VVe  are  now  fjf.ioiently   prepared  for  entering  upon 

particulars ; 


Se6t.  IV.         Beauty  CF  Language.  Sq 

particulars  ;  beginning  with  Latin  or  Greek  Hexameter, 
v/hlch  are  the  fame.  What  I  have  to  obferve  upon  that 
i'pecies  of  verfe,  will  come  under  the  four  following 
heads,  number,  ariangemtnt,  paufe,  and  accent ;  for  as 
to  quantity,  v.'hat  is  obfcrved  above  may  fuffice. 

Hexameter  lines,  as  to  time,  are  all  of  the  fame 
length  ;  being  equivalent  to  the  time  taken  in  pronoun- 
cing twelve  loijg  fyllables  or  iwenty-four  fnort.  An 
Hexameter  line  may  conlift  of  feventeen  fyllables :  and 
when  regular  and  not  Spondaic,  it  never  has  fewer  than 
thirteen  :  whence  it  follows,  that  v;here  the  fyllables 
are  many,  the  plurality  muft  be  (hort  i  where  tew,  the 
plurality  muft  be  long. 

This  line  is  fufceptible  of  much  variety  as  to  the 
fuccelllon  of  long  and  (hort  fyllables.  It  is  however 
fubjefted  to  laws  that  confine  its  variety  within  certain 
limits  :  and  for  afcertaining  tiiefe  limits,  grammarians 
have  invented  a  rule  by  Dadtyles  and  Spondees,  which 
they  denominate  feet.  One  at  firft  view  is  led  to  think, 
that  thefe  feet  are  alfo  intended  to  regulate  the  pronun- 
ciation :  which  is  far  from  being  the  cafe  j  for  were  one 
to  pronounce  according  to  thele  feet,  the  melody  of  a 
Hexameter  line  would  be  dcftroy'd,  or  at  beft  be  much 
infeiior  to  what  it  is  when  properly  pronounced  *.  Thefe 

feet 


* 


After  lome  attention  given  to  this  lubjetft,  and 
weighing  deliberately  every  circumftance,  I  have  been 
forc'd  to  reft  upon  the  foregoing  conckifion,  That  the 
Dadyle  and  Spondee  are  no  other  than  artificial  meafures 
invented  for  crying  the  accuracy  of  compofiiion.  Re- 
peated experiments  convince  mc,  that  though  the  fenie 
(hould  be  neglected,  an  Hexameter  line  read  by  Dadtyles 
and  Spondees  will  not  be  melodious.  And  the  compo- 
fition  of  an  Hexameter  line  demonftrates  this  to  be  true, 
without  necefllty  of  an  experiment  ;  for,  as  will  appear 
afterward,  there  muft  always,  in  this  line,  be  a  capital 
paufe  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  long  fyllable,  reckoning,  as 
above,  two  lliort  for  one  long  j  and  when  we  meafure 
this  line  by  Dadyles  and  Spondees,  the  paufe  now  men- 
tioned divides  always  a  Dadyle  or  a  Spondee,  without 
ever  coming  after  either  of  thefe  feet-  HeiKe  it  is  evi- 
dent. 


70  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch. XVIII. 

teet  mull  be  confined  to  their  fole  province  of  regula- 
ting the  arrangement,  for  they  ferve  no  other  purpofe. 
They  are  withal  lb  aitificial  and  complex,  that  I  am 
tempted  to  fubllitiite  in  their  ftead,  other  rules  more 
fimpie  and  of  more  eafy  application  ;  for  example,  the 
following.  Ill:,  The  line  muft  always  commence  with 
a  long  fyllable,  and  clofe  with  two  long  preceded  by 
two  Ihort.    2d,  More  than  two  (hort  can  never  be  found 

in 

deilt,  that  if  a  line  he  pronounced,  as  it  is  fcanned,  by 
Dadlyles  and  Spondees,  the  paufe  mull:  utterly  be  ne- 
gleflcd  ;  which  confequently  dellroys  the  melody,  be- 
caufe  this  paufe  is  elTential  to  the  melody  of  an  Hexa- 
nieier  verfe.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  raelouy  be  pre- 
ferved  by  making  that  paufe,  the  pronouncing  by  Dac- 
tyles  or  Spondees  muil  be  abandoned. 

What  has  led  grammarians  into  the  ufe  of  Dadtvles 
and  Spondees,  feems  not  beyond  the  reach  of  conjeC' 
ture.  To  produce  melody,  the  Daftyle  and  the  Spon- 
dee, which  clofe  every  Hexr.meter  line,  muft  be  diftinclly 
exprefTcd  in  the  pronunciation.  This  difcovery,  joined 
with  another,  that  the  foregoing  part  of  the  verfe  could 
bemeaiured  by  the  fame  fii^^t,  probably  led  grammarians 
to  adopt  thefe  artificial  meafures,  and  perhaps  ralliiy  to 
conclude,  that  the  pronunciation  ir,  diretled  by  thele 
feet  as  the  compofition  is:  the  DaiStyle  and  the  Spondee 
at  the  clofe,  ferve  indeed  to  regulate  the  pronunciation 
as  well  as  the  compofition  ;  but  in  the  foregoing  part 
ot  the  line,  they  regulate  the  couipofition  only,  not 
the  pronunciation. 

If  we  mult  have  feet  in  verfe  to  regulate  the  pronun- 
ciation, and  confequently  the  melody,  thefe  feet  uiult  be 
determined  by  the  paules.  The  whole  fylLibles  inter- 
jected between  two  paufes  ought  to  be  deemed  one  niu- 
fical  foot ;  becaufe,  to  preferve  the  melody,  they  muft 
all  be  pronounced  together,  without  any  llop.  And 
therefore,  whatever  number  tlieie  are  of  paufes  in  a 
Hexameter  line,  the  parts  into  which  it  is  divided  by 
thele  paufes,  make  jult  fo  many  mufical  feet. 

Connedion  obliges  me  here  to  anticipate,  by  obferv- 
ing,  that  the  fame  dodlrine  is  applicable  to  Engiilh  He- 
roic 


Se<^.  IV.         BEAttTY  OF  Language.  71 

in  any  part  of  the  line,  nor  fewer  than  two  If  any. 
And,  ^6,  Two  long  fyllables  which  have  been  preceded 
by  two  ftort,  cannot  a!fo  be  followed  by  two  fhort. 
Thefe  few  rules  fulfil  all  the  conditions  of  a  Hexameter 
line,  with  relation  to  order  or  a'rangement-  To  thefe 
again  a  fmgle  rule  may  be  fubftituted,  for  which  I  have 
a  (till  greater  relifh,  as  it  regulates  more  affiimatively 
the  conftruflion  of  every  pirt.  That  I  may  put  this 
rule  into  words  with  the  greater  facility,  I  take  a  hint 
from  the  twelve  long  fyllables  that  compofe  an  Hexa- 
meter line  to  divide  it  into  twelve  equal  parts  or  porti- 
ons, being  each  of  them  one  long  fyllable  or  two  ihort. 
A  portion  being  thus  defined,  1  proceed  to  the  rule.  The 
.  ift,  3d,  5th,  7th,  9th,  iith,  and  12th  portions,  muii 
each  of  them  be  one  long  fyllable;  the  loth  muil  al- 
ways be  two  fliort  fyllables ;  the  2d,  4th,  6th,  and  8th, 
may  indifferently  be  one  long  or  two  fhort.  Or  to  ex- 
prefs  the  thing  tlill  more  curtly,  The  2d,  4th,  6ih,  and 
8th  portions  may  be  one  long  fyllable  or  two  fhort  j  the 
loth  nmft  be  two  fhort  fyllables  ;  all  the  refl  mufl  con- 
fiil:  each  of  one  long  fyllable.  This  fulfils  all  the  con- 
ditions of  an  Hexameter  line,  and  comprehends  all  the 
combinations  of  Daflyles  and  Spondees  that  this  line 
admits. 

Next  in  order  comes  the  paufe.  At  the  end  of  every 
Hexameter  line,  no  ear  but  muil  be  fenfible  of  a  com- 
plete clofe  or  full  paufe  ;  the  caufe  of  which  follows. 
The  two  long  fyllables  preceded  by  two  fhort,  which 
always  clofe  an  Hexameter  line,  are  a  fine  preparation 
for  a  paufe:  the  reafon  is,  that  long  fyllables,  or  fylla- 
bles pronounced  flow,  refemhling  a  flow  and  languid 
motion  tending  to  refl,  naturally  incline  the  mind  to  refl, 

or, 

roic  verfe.  Confide: in t  its  comp-^fition  merely,  it  is  of 
tv.'o  kinds;  one  compofed  of  five  Iambi  ;  and  one  of  a 
Trochaeus  iollowed  by  four  Iambi :  but  thefe  feet  afford 
no  rule  for  pronouncing;  the  mufical  feet  being  ob-vi- 
oufly  thofe  parts  of  the  line  that  ate  interjeCted  between 
two  paufes.  To  bring  out  the  melody,  thefe  feet  mull 
be  expreffed  in  the  pronunciation  ;  or,  which  couies  to 
the  fame,  the  pronunciation  nmft  be  diredled  by  the 
paufes,  without  regard  to  the  Iambus  or  Trochseus. 


72  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.XVIII. 

or,  which  is  the  fame,  to  a  paufe;  and  to  this  inclina- 
tion the  two  preceding  fiort  fyllables  contrihiite,  which, 
by  contraft,  make  the  flow  pronunciation  of  the  final 
fyllables  the  more  confpicuous.  Befide  this  complete 
ciofe  or  full  paufe  at  the  end,  others  are  alfo  requifite 
for  the  fake  of  melody  :  of  which  I  difcover  two  clear- 
ly, and  perhaps  there  may  be  more.  The  longeft  and 
moPc  remarkable,  fucceeds  the  5th  portion:  the  other, 
which,  being  (horter  and  more  faint,  may  be  called  the 
femipaufe,  fucceeds  the  8th  poition.  So  ilriking  is  the 
paufe  firil  mentioned,  as  to  be  diftinguifhed  even  by  the 
rudeft  ear:  the  monkifh  rhymes  are  evidently  built  up- 
on it:  in  which,  by  an  invariable  rule,  the  final  word 
always  chimes  with  that  which  immediately  precedes 
the  paufe  : 

De  planQu  cudo  [j  metrum  cum  carmine  nudo 
Mingere  cum  bumbis  |i  res  eft  faluberrima  lumbis. 

The  difference  of  time  in  the  paufe  and  femipaufe, 
occafions  another  difference  not  lefs  remarkable  ;  that 
it  is  lawful  to  divide  a  v/ord  by  a  femipaufe,  but  never 
by  a  paufe,  the  bad  efleQ  of  which  is  fenfiblj  felt  in 
the  following  exan)j)les  : 

Effufus  labor,  a!|'que  inmitis  rupta  Tyranni 
Again  : 

Obfervans  nido  imjlplumes  detraxit ;  at  ilia 
Again, 

Loricam  quam  De|lmoleo  detraxerat  infe 

The  dividing  a  word  by  a  femipaufe  has  not  the  fame 
bad  effedft  : 

jamque  pedem  referens  H  cafus  e[vaferat  omacs. 
Again  : 

I  Qualis  populea  II  mo^rens  Philojmela  fit b  umbra 
Again  ; 

Ludere  que  vellem  jl-calamo  per|mif!t  agrefti. 

Lines,  however,  where  words  are  left  entire,  without 
being  divided  even   by  a  femipaule,  run  by  that  means 
much  the  more  fweetly. 
Nee  gemere  aerea  !1  cefTabitjturtur  ab  ulmo. 

Asa  in : 


Seel. IV.         Bex\uty  of  Language.  73 

Again  : 

Qundrupedan'e  putrem  |1  fonitu  qiiatit  |ungula  campum. 
Again  : 
Eiirydiccn  toto  H  rei'ereb.nnr  I  flumine  ripss. 

Th3  reiifon  of  tliefe  ohfcrvatlons  will  be  evident  upon 
the  Oiglueft  refle(^"lion.  Between  things  fo  intimately 
connetted  in  reading  ;il  ;ud,  as  are  fenfe  and  found,  eve- 
ry degree  of  difcord  is  unpleafant  to  the  ear:  and  for 
that  leafon,  it  is  a  matter  of  importance,  to  make  the 
niufical  paiifes  coincide  as  much  as  polllble  with  thofe 
of  the  fenfe;  which  is  requiiite,  more  efpccially,  with 
refpect  to  the  paufe,  a  deviation  from  the  rule  beinpf 
lefs  remarkable  in  a  femipaafe.  Confidering  the  matter 
as  to  melody  folely,  it  is  indifferent  whether  the  paufes 
be  at  the  end  of  words  or  in  the  middle  ;  but  when  we 
carry  the  fenfe  along,  it  is  difagreeabie  to  find  a  word 
.  fplit  into  two  by  a  paufe,  as  ii  there  were  really  two 
words  :  and  though  the  difagreeablenefs  here  be  con- 
nefted  with  the  {enfs  only,  it  is  by  an  eafy  tranfiiion  of 
perceptions  transferred  to  the  found  ;  by  which  means, 
we  conceive  a  line  to  be  harlh  and  grating  to  the  ear, 
when  in  reality  it  is  only  fo  to  the  underftanding*. 

To  the  rule  that  fixes  the  paufe  after  the  5th  portion, 
there  is  one  exception,  and  not  more  ;  if  the  fyllable 
fucceeding  the  5th  portion  be  fhort,  the  paufe  is  foaie- 
times  poitponed  to  it-: 

Pupilh's  quos  dura  \\  premit  cnilodia  matruni 
Again  : 

In  terras  opprefTa  1|  gravi  fiib  religione 
Again  : 

Et  quorum  pars  magna  |j  fui ;  quis  taiia  fando 
This  contributes  to  diverfify  the  melody;  and' where 
the  words  are  fmooth  and  liquid,  is  not  ungraceful;  as 
in  the  following  examples  : 

Furmofam  refonare  |j  dcces  Amaryllida  fylvas 
Again  : 
Agricolas,  quibus  ipfa  ||  procul  difcordibus  arniis 

If 

*  See  chap.  2.  part  1,  feft.  5. 


74  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

If  this  paufe,  placed  as  aforefaid  after  the  fhort  fyl- 
lable,  happen  alfo  to  divide  a  word,  the  melody  by 
theJe  circuniftances  is  totally  annihilated  :  witnefs  the 
following  line  of  Ennius,  which  is  plain  profe  : 
Romae  mcenia  terru||It  impiger  |  Hannibal  armls. 
Hitherto  the  arrangement  of  the  long  and  fhort  fylla- 
bles  of  an  Hexameter  line  and  its  different  paufes.  have 
been  confidered  with  refpeft  to  melody:  but  to  have  a 
juft  notion  of  Hexameter  verfe,  thefe  particulars  muft 
alfo  be  confidered  with  refpedl  to  fenfe.  There  is  not. 
perhaps  in  any  other  fort  of  verfe,  fuch  latitude  in  the 
long  and  fhort  fyllables ;  a  circumftance  that  contributes 
greatly  to  that  richnefs  of  melody  which  is  remarkable 
in  Hexameter  verfe,  and  which  made  Ariftotle  pronounce, 
that  an  epic  poem  in  any  other  verfe  would  not  fucceed  *. 
One  defeat  however  mull  not  be  difTembled,  that  the 
fame  means  which  contribute  to  the  richnefs  of  the  me- 
lody, render  it  lefs  fit  than  feveral  other  forts  for  a  nar- 
rative poem.  With  regard  to  the  melody,  as  above  ob-v 
ferved,  there  cannot  be  a  more  artful  contrivance  than 
to  clofe  an  hexnnieier  line  with  two  long  fyllables  pre- 
ceded by  two  fhort:  but  unhappily  this  conllruftion 
proves  a  great  eaibarralfment  to  the  fenfe;  which  will 
thus  be  evident.  As  in  general,  there  ought  to  be  a 
ftrid  concordance  between  the  thought  and  the  words 
in  which  it  is  drelfed  j  fo  in  particular,  every  clofe  in 
the  kuk  ought  to  be  accompanied  with  a  funilar  clofe 
in  the  found.  In  profe  this  law  may  be  ftrittiy  obferv- 
ed  ;  but  in  verfe  the  fame  ftritlnefs  would  occafion  in- 
fuperable  difficulties  :  willing  tu  fac  ifice  to  the  melody 
of  verfe,  fome  fhare  of  the  concoidance  between  thought 
and  exprefTion,  we  freely  excufe  the  feparation  of  the 
mufical  paufe  from  that  of  the  fenfe,  during  the  courfe 
of  a  line  ;  but  the  clofe  of  an  Hexameter  line  is  too 
confpicuous  to  admit  this  liberty  :  for  that  realon  there 
ought  always  to  be  fome  paufe  in  the  fenfe  at  the  end 
o':  every  Hexameter  line,  were  it  but  fuch  a  paufe  as  is 
marked  wi^ha  comma  :  and  tor  the  fame  reafon,  there 
oucrht  never  to  be  a  fii!)  clofe  in  the  fenfe  but  at  the  end 
of  a  line,  becaufe  there  the  melody  is  clofed.    An  Hex- 

air.eter 

*  Poet.  cap.  25.  . 


Se(£t.IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  75 

ameter  line,  to  preferve  its  melody,  cannot  well  admit 
any  greater  relaxation  ;  and  yet  in  a  narrative  poem,  it 
is  extremely  difficult  to  adhere  ftriaiy  to  the  rule  even 
with  thefe  indulgences.  Virgil,  the  chief  of  poets  for  ver- 
fification,  is  forc'd  often  to  end  a  line  without  any  clofe 
in  the  fenfe,  and  as  often  to  clofe  the  fenfe  during  the 
running  of  a  line:  though  a  clofe  in  the  melody  during 
the  movement  of  the  thought,  or  a  clofe  in  the  thought 
during  the  movement  of  the  melody,  cannot  be  a<rree- 
able.  ^ 

The  accent,  to  which  we  proceed,  is  mt  lefs  efTen- 
tial  than  the  other  circumftances  above  handled.  By  a 
good  ear  it  wil!  be  difcerned,  that  in  every  line  there  is 
one  fyllable  diitinguifhable  from  the  reft  by  a  capital  ac- 
cent: that  Syllable  making  the  7th  portion,  is  invariably 
Jong;  and  in  point  of  time  occupies  a  place  nearly  at  an 
equal  diftance  from  the  paufe,  which  fucceeds  the  5th 
portion,  and  the  femipaufe,  which  fucceeds  the  8th, 

Nee  bene  promeritis  I|  capitur  necjtangitur  ira 
Again  : 

Non  fibi  fed  toto  [j  getiitum  fej  credere  mundo 
Again  : 

Qualis  fpeluncalj  fubito  comjmota  columta 
In  thefe  examples,  the  accent  is  laid  upon  the  laft 
lyliabie  of  a  word  ;  which  is  favourable  to  the  melody 
in  the  followmg  refpeft,  that  the  paufe,  which  for  the 
lake  of  readmg  dillinaiy  muft  follow  every  word,  gives 
opportunity  to  prolong  the  accent  And  for  that  rea- 
son, a  line  thus  accented,  has  a  more  fpirited  air,  than 
where  the  accent  is  placed  on  any  other  fyllable.  Com- 
pare  the  foregoing  lines  with  the  following. 

Alba  neque  Affyrio  ||  fucatur  J  lana  veneno 
Again  : 

I'anditur  interea  ||  domus  omnipojtentis  Olympi 
Again  : 

Olli  fedato  |j  refpondit  j  corde  Litinus 
In  lines  where  the  paufe  comes  after  the  Hiort  fylla- 
ble fucceeding  the  5rh  portion,   the  accent  is  difplaced 
and  rendered  lefs  fenfible :  it  feems  to  be  fpiit  i- ro  two 


fS  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

and  to  be  laid  partly  on  the  5th  portion,  and  partly  on 
the  ytb,  its  ufual  place ;  as  in 

Nuda  genu,  nodoque  ||  finus  collleCta  fluentes 
Again  : 
Formofam  refonare  ||  doces  Amar|yllida  fvlvas 

Befide  this  capital  accent,  flighter  accents  are  laid 
upon  other  portions;  particularly  upon  the  4th,  unlefs 
where  it  confifts  of  two  Ihort  fyllables ;  upon  the  9th, 
which  is  always  a  long  fyllable ;  and  upon  the  iith, 
where  the  line  concludes  with  a  monofyllable.  Such 
conclufion,  by  the  by,  impairs  the  melody,  and  for  that 
reafon  is  not  to  be  indulged  unlefs  where  it  is  expreflive 
of  the  fenfe.  The  following  lines  are  maiked  with  all 
the  accents. 

Ludere  qus  vellem  calamo  permifit  agiefti 
Again  : 

Et  duras  qu^rcus  fudabunt  rofcida  mella 
Again  : 

Parturiunt  montes,  nafcetur  ridiculus  mus 

Inquiring  into  the  melody  of  Hexameter  verfe,  we 
foon  difcover,  that  order  or  arrangement  doth  not  con- 
llitute  the  whole  of  it;  for  when  we  compare  different 
lines,  equally  regular  as  to  the  fucceffion  of  long  and 
ihort  fyllables,  the  melody  i';  found  in  very  different  de- 
grees of  perfeftion  ;  which  is  not  occafioned  by  any  par- 
ticular combination  of  DaQyles  and  Spondees,  or  of 
long  and  Ihort  fyllables,  becaufe  we  find  lines  -where 
Daflyles  prevail  and  lines  where  Spondees  prevail,  e- 
qually  melodious.  Of  the  former  take  the  following 
inftance  : 

./Eneadum  genitrix  hominum  divumqiie  voluptas. 
Of  the  latter  : 

Molli  paulatim  flavefcet  campus  arifta. 

"What  can  be  more  different  as  to  melody  than  the  two 

foUowinj    line?,  wiiich,  however,  as   to  the   ruccellion 

,  of  long  .^nvl  Ihort  lyllables,  are  coriftrutted  precilely  in 

the  (aiue  mannei  ? 

Spond.     Daft.       SponcL  Spond.      Dafl.         Spond. 

Ad  talos  iiola  dimaru  tt  circumdata  palla.  Hor. 

Spond. 


Sea.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  77 

Spond.         Daa.       Spond.  Spond.    Daft!     Spond. 

PJacatumque  nitet  ditfulo  luiiiine  coelum.  Lucret. 
In  the  former,  the  paufe  falls  in  the  middle  of  a  word, 
which  is  a  great  blemifli,  and  the  accent  is  difturbed  by 
■  a  harfli  ehfion  of  the  vowel  a  upon  the  particle  et.  In 
the  htter  the  paufes  and  the  accent  are  all  of  them  di- 
ftma  and  full  :  there  is  no  elifion  i  and  the  words  are 
more  liquid  and  founding.  In  thefe  particulars  confifts 
the  beauty  of  an  Hexameter  line  with  refpedl  to  melo- 
dy ;  and  by  neglefting  thefe,  many  lines  in  the  Satires 
and  Epiftles  of  Hoi  ace  are  lefs  agreeable  than  plairt 
prole;  for  they  are  nejther  the  one  nor  the  other  in  per- 
fe6tion  :  to  draw  melody  from  thefe  lines,  they  muft  be 
pronounced  uithout  relation  to  the  {^ak,  it  muft  not 
be  regarded,  that  words  are  divided  by  paufes,  nor  that 
barfh  elifions  are  multiplied.  To  add  to  the  account, 
profaic  low- founding  words  are  introduced;  and  which 
IS  ftill  worfe,  accents  are  laid  on  them.  Of  fuch  faulty 
lines  rake  the  following  inftances. 

Candida  redaque  fit,  munda  ha^enus  fit  neque  longa. 

Jupiter  exclamat  fimul  atque  audirit ;  at  in  fe. 

Cuftodes,  leflica,  ciniflones,   parafits. 

Optimus  eft  modulator,  ut  Alfenus  Vafer  omni. 

Nunc  illud  tantum  quaeram,  meritone  tibi  fit- 
Next  in  order  comes  Englifh  Heroic  verfe,  which  ftall 
be  exammed  under  the  whole  five  heads,  of  number, 
quantity,  arrangement,  paufe,   a.nd  accent.     This  verfe 
IS  ot  two  kinds;   one  named  rhyme  or  metre,  and  one 
blank  -verfe.    \n  the  former,  the  lines  are  connedted  two 
and  two  by  hmilarity  of  found  in  the  final  fyllables;  and 
two  lines  fo  connefted  are  termed  a  cou(>ht  :  fimilarity 
oMound  being  avoided  \n  the  latter,  couplets  are  ba- 
ni/hed.    Thele  two  forts  muft  be  handled  feparately,  be- 
caule  there  are  many  peculiarities  in  each.     Beginning 
With  rhyme  or  metre,  the  firft  article  /hall  be  difcuffed 
in  a  few  words.     Every  line  confifts  of  ten   fyllables. 
five  fhort  and  five  long;   from  which  there  are  but  two 
exceptions,  both   of   them   rare.     The   firft    is,   where 
AA-  •       ,°/  ^  <^o"P'et  is  made  eleven  fyllables,  by  an 
additional /hort  fyllable  at  the  end  :  ^ 

There  heroes'  wits  are  kept  in  pond'rous  vafes, 
And  beaus   in  Inuff- boxes  and  tweeier  cafes. 

^  ^  'The 


^8  Beauty  CF  Language.     Ch. XVIII. 

The  piece,  you  think,  is  inconeft?  Why,  take  it; 

I'm  all  fubniiffion  ;  what  you'd  have  if,  make  it. 
This  licence  is  fufferable  in  a  fing!e  couplet ;  but  if  fre- 
quent would  give  difiuft. 

The  other  exception  concerns  the  fecond  line  of  a 
couplet,  which  is  fometiuies  ftretched  out  to  twelve 
f^liables,  termed  an  Alexandrine  line  : 

A  needlefs  Alexandrine  ends  the  fong, - 

That,  like  a  wounded  fnake,  drags  its  flow  length  along. 

It  doth  extremely  well  when  employ'd  to  clofe  a  period 
with  a  certain  pomp  and  foleau.ity,  where  the  luhjeft 
makes  that  tone  proper. 

With  regard  to  quantity,  it  is  unneceffary  to  mention 
a  fecond  time,  that  the  quantities  employ'd  in  verfe  are 
but  two,  the  one  double  of  the  other;  that  every  fyl- 
lable  is   reducible  to  one  or  other  of  thefe  (landards  j 
and  that  a  fy liable  of  the  larger  qu -ntity  is  termed  long, 
and  of  the  lelfer  quantity  yZ'or/.     It  belongs  more  to 
the  prefent  article*  to  examine  what  peculiarities  there 
may  be  in  the  Englifh  language  as  to  long  and  fliort  fyl- 
lables.     Every  language  has  fyllables  that  may  be  pro- 
nounced long  or  Ihort  at  pleafure  ;  but  the  Englilh  a- 
bove  all  abounds  in  fyllables  of  that  kind  :  in  words  of 
three  or  more  fyllables,  the  quantity  for  the  uiort  part 
is  invariable :  the  exceptions  are  more  frequent  m  diffyl- 
lables:  but  as  to  monofyllables,  they  may,  without  ma- 
ny exceptions,  be  pronounced  either  long  or  Jhort ;  nor 
is  the  ear  hurt  by  a  liberty  that  is  rendered  familiar  by 
cuflom.     This  fhows,  that  the  melody  of  Englilh  verfe 
muft  depend  lefs  upon  quantity,  than  upon  other  cir- 
cumftances:  in  which  it  ditTers  widely  from  Latm  verfe, 
where  every  fyllable,  having  but  one  found,  ftt,kes  the 
ear  uniformly  with  its  accuflomed   imprefTion;    and  a 
reader  muft  be  delighted  to  find  a  number  of  fuch  fyl- 
lables, difpofed  fo  artfully  as  to  be  highly  melodious. 
Syllables  variable  io  quantity  cannot  pofTefs  this  power; 
for  though  cuftom  may  render  familiar,  both  a  long  and 
a  fhort  pronunciation  of  the  fame  word  ;  yet   the  mind 
wavering  between  th.^  two  fau  ids,  cannot  be  fo  much 
afFeded  as  where  every  fyllable  has  one  d^t  found.  What 
I  have  further  to  fay  upou  quantity,  will  come  more, 

properm 


Sea.  IV.         Beauty  of  Language.  79 

proper'y  under  the  following  head,  of  arrangennent. 
And  with  refpedl  to  airangement,  which  may  be 
brought  within  a  narrow  compafs,  the  Englilh  Heroic 
line  is  commonly  Iambic,  the  firft  fyllable  fliort,  the  fe- 
cond  long,  and  fo  on  alternately  through  the  whole  line. 
One  exception  there  is,  pretty  frequent,  of  lines,  com- 
mencing with  a  TrochsEUS,  r.  e.  a  long  and  a  fhort  fylla- 
ble :  but  this  affefts  not  the  order  of  the  followir>g  fyl- 
lables,  which  go  on  alternately  as  ufual,  one  (horjf  and 
one  lon-T.  The  following  couplet  affords  an  example 
of  each  kind. 

fo.iie  in  the  fields  of  puiefl.  sether  play, 
'AP.d  balk  ard  whiten  In  the  blaze  of  day. 

Tt  is  a  great  imperfection  in  EngliHi  verfe,  that  It  ex-" 
cliides  the  bulk  of  poiyfyllables,  which  are  the  moft 
founding  words  in  our  language;  for  very  few  of  them 
have  fuch  alternation  of  long  and  Ihort  fyllables  as  to 
correfpond  to  either  of  the  arrangements  mentioned. 
Englifh  verfe  accordingly  is  almoft  totally  reduced  to 
diflyllables  and  monofyllables:  magnanimity  is  a  found- 
ing word  totaliy^excluded  :  intpetuofity  is  ftill  a  finer 
word,  by  the  refemblance  of  the  found  and  fenfe  ;  and 
yet  a  negative  is  put  upon  it,  as  well  as  upon  nuujber- 
kfs  words  of  the  fame  kind.  Poiyfyllables  compofed 
of  fyllables  long  and  (hort  alternately,  make  a  good  fi- 
gure in  verfe  ;  for  example  :  cbfer<vance,  opponent,  ojien- 
Ji'uey  pimlaric,  produdi-ve,  prolific,  and  fuch  others  cf 
three  fyllables.  Imitation,  imperfeilion,  mifdemeanory 
mitigation,  moderation,  ohfer'vator,  ornamental^  regu- 
lator, and  others  fimilar  of  four  fyllables,  beginning  with 
two  fhort  fyllables,  the  third  long,  and  the  tourth  fhort, 
may  find  a  place  in  a  line  commencing  with  a  Trochsus. 
I  know  not  if  there  be  any  of  five  fyllables.  One  I 
know  of  fix,  'VIZ.  mi/interpretation  :  but  words  fo  com- 
poled  are  nor  frequent  in  our  language. 

One  would  not  imagine  without  trial,  how  uncouth 
falfe  quantity  appears  in  verfe  ;  not  lefs  than  a  provin- 
cial tone  or  idiom.  The  article  the  is  one  of  the  few 
monnTyllables  that  is  invariably  fhort:  fee  how  hailh  it 
makes  a  line  where  it  muft  be  pronounced  long: 

This  nymph,  to  the  deftruition  of  mankind, 

D  3  Again 


So  Beauty  OF  Lancuage.     Ch.  XVIII, 

Again  : 

Th'  advent'rous  baron  the  bright  locks  admlr'd. 
Let  it  be  pronounced  ihort,  and  it  reduces  the  melody 
alnioft  to  nothing:   better  fo  however  tjian   falfe  quan- 
tity.    In  the  following  examples  we  perceive  the  fame 
defea. 

And  old  impertinence  ||  expel  by  new. 

With  varying  vanities  II  from  ev'ry  part. 

Love  in  thefe  labyrinths  j]  his  flaves  detains. 

New  ftratagems  II  the  radiant  lock  to  gain. 

Her  eyes  half  languilTiingH  half  drown'd  in  tears. 

Roar'd  for  the  handkerchief  ||  that  caus'd  his  pain. 

PaOiOiis  like  elements  ||  though  born  to  fight. 

The  great  variety  of  melody  coufpicuous  in  EngllHi 
verfe,  arifes  chiefly  from  the  paufes  and  accents  ;  which 
are  of  greater  importance  than  is  commonly  thought. 
There  is  a  degree  of  intricacy  in  this  branch  of  our  fub-  j 
je6l,  and  it  will  be  difficult  to  give  a  diftinft  view  of  it} 
but  it  is  too  late  to  think  of  difficulties  after  we  are  en- 
gaged. The  paufe,  which  paves  the  way  to  the  accent, 
offers  ittelf  firft  to  our  examination  j  and  from  a  very 
iliort  trial,  the  following  fafts  will  be  verified,  i  ft,  A 
line  admits  but  one  capital  paufe.  2d,  In  different  lines, 
we  find  this  paufe  after  the  fourth  fyllable,  after  the 
fifth,  after  the  fixih,  and  after  the  feventh.  Thefe  four 
places  of  the  paufe  lay  a  folid  foundation  for  dividing 
Englifli  Heroic  lines  into  four  kinds;  and  1  warn  the 
reader  betorehand,  that  unlefs  he  attend  to  this  diftinc- 
tion,  he  cannot  have  any  juft  notion  of  the  rirhnefs  and 
variety  of  Englilh  verfification.  Each  kind  or  order  hath 
a  melody  peculiar  to  itfelf,  readily  dillinguilliable  by  a 
good  ear;  and  I  am  not  without  .hopes  to  make  the 
caufe  of  this  peculiarity  kifficiently  evident.  It  muft  be 
obferved,  at  the  fame  time,  that  the  paufe  cannot  be 
made  indifferently  at  any  of  the  places  mentioned  :  it  is 
the  fenfe  that  regulates  tlie  paule,  as  will  be  feen  more 
fully  afterv/ard  ;  and  conl'equentjy,  it  is  the  lenfe  that 
determines  of  what  order  every  line  mufi:  be:  there  can 
hi  but  one  capital  mufical  paufe  in  a  line;  and  that 
■  aUfe  ought  to  coincide,  if  pofllble,  with  a  paufe  in  the 

fenfe, 


Se£t. IV.        Beauty  OF  Language.  8i 

fenfe,  in  order  that  the  found  may  accord  with  the  fenfe. 
What  is  faid  fliall  be  illuftrated  by  examples  of  each 
fort  or  order.     And  firft  of  the  paufe  after  the  fourth 
fyllable  : 

Back  through  the  paths  |I  of  pleafing  fenfe  I  ran 
Again, 

Profufe  pf  blifs  ||  and  pregnant  with  delight 
After  the  5  th  : 

So  when  an  angel  il  by  divine  command. 

With  rifing  tenipelts  11  /hakes  a  guilty  land. 
After  the  6th : 

Speed  the  foft  intercourfe  ||  from  foul  to  foul 
Again, 

Then  from  his  cloflng  eyes  |i  thy  forna  (hall  part 
After  the  7th  : 

And  taught  the  doubtful  battle  U  where  to  rage 
Again, 

And  in  the  fmooth  defcription  ||  murmur  ftill 

Befide  the  capital  paufe  now  mentioned,  inferior  pau- 
fes  will  be  dilcovered  by  a  nice  ear.  Of  thefe  there 
are  commonly  two  in  each  line;  one  before  the  capital 
paufe,  and  one  after  it.  The  former  comes  invariably 
after  the  firft  long  fyllable,  whether  the  line  begin  with 
a  long  fyllable  or  a  fliort.  The  other  in  its  variety  imi- 
tates the  capital  paufe :  in  fome  lines  it  comes  after  the 
6th  fyllable,  in  fome  after  the  7th,  and  in  fome  after 
the  8th.  Of  thefe  femipaufes  take  the  following  ex- 
amples. 
I  ft  and  8th: 

Led  j  through  a  fad  ||  variety  {  of  wo. 
I  ft  and  7th: 

Still  I  on  that  breaft  ||  enamour'd  j  let  me  lie 
2d  and  8th: 

From  ftorms  |  a  fhelter  1!  and  from  heat  |  a  ihade 
2d  and  6th  :  ^ 

Let  v/ealth  |  let  honour  ||  wait  j  the  wedded  dame 
2d  and  7th : 

Above  }  all  pain  |1  all  paflion  j  and  all  pride 

D  4  Even 


83  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIIT. 

Even  fiom  thefe  few  examples  it  appears,  that  the 
place  of  the  laft  femipaufe,  like  chat  of  rhe  full  paufe, 
is  direfled  in  a  good  meafure  by  the  fenfe.  Its  proper 
place  with  refpeft  to  the  melody  is  after  the  8rh  fylla- 
ble,  fo  as  to  finiih  the  line  with  an  Iambus  diftin6l!y  pro- 
nounced, which,  by  a  long  fyllable  after  a  fhort,  is  a 
preparation  for  reft:  but  fometimes  it  comes  after  the 
6:h,  and  fometimes  after  the  yth  fyllable,  in  order  to 
avoid  a  pnufe  in  the  middle  of  a  word,  or  between  two 
words  in;imately  conneded  ;  and  fo  far  melody  is  juft- 
ly  facrificed  to  fenfe. 

In  difcourfing  of  Hexameter  verfe,  it  v.as  laid  down 
as  a  rule,  That  a  full  paufe  ought  never  to  divide  a 
word:  fuch  licence  deviates  too  far  from  the  coincidence 
that  ought  to  be  between  the  paufes  of  fenfe  and  ot 
melody.  The  fame  rule  muft  obtain  in  an  Englifh  line  ; 
and  we  fliall  fupport  reafon  by  experiments  : 

A  noble  fupei|lfluity  it  craves. 
Abhor,  a  perpejltuity  fliould  ftand. 

Are  thefe  lines  dillinguifhable  from  profe  ?  Scarcely,  t 
think. 

The  fame  rule  is  not  applicable  to  a  femipaufe,  which  , 
being  ihort  and  faint,  is  not  fentibly  difagiceable  when 
it  divides  a  word. 

Relentjlefs  walls  ||  whofe  darkfome  round  [  contains. 

For  her  |  white  virgins  jj  hymejneals  fing. 

In  thefe  [  deep  folitudes  ||  and  awjful  cells. 
It  muft  however  be  acknowledged,  that  the  melody 
here  fuffers  in  fome  degree:  a  word  ought  to  be  pro- 
nounced without  any  rell  between  its  component  fylla- 
bles  :  the  feuiipaufe  muft  bend  to  this  rule,  and  thereby 
fcarce  remains  fenfible. 

With  regard  to  the  capital  paufe,  it  is  fo  eflential  to 
the  melody,  that  a  poet  cannot  be  too  nice  in  the  choice 
gt  its  place,  in  order  to  have  it  clear  and  diftini^.  It 
cannot  be  in  better  company  than  with  a  paufe  in  the 
fenfe  ;  and  if  the  fenfe  require  but  a  comma  after  the 
fourth,  fifth,  fixth,  or  feventh  fyllable,  it  isfuflicieat 
for  the  mufical  paufe.  But  to  make  fuch  coincidence 
eflential,  would  cramp  verfification  too  much  ;  and  we 

have 


-A 


Se<a.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  83 

have  experience  for  our  authority,  that  there  may  be  a 
paiife  '\n  the  nislody  where  the  fenle  requires  none.  We 
nuill  not  however  imagine,  that  a  mufical  paufe  may 
come  after  any  word  indifferently  :  fome  words,  like  lyl- 
lablcs  of  the  fame  word,  are  fo  intimately  conneded,  as  ^ 
rot  to  bear  a  feparation  even  by  a  paufe:  the  feparating, 
for  example,  a  lubftantive  from  its  article  would  be  harCh 
and  uiipleafant :  witnefs  the  following  line,  which  can- 
not be  pronounced  with  a  paufe  as  marked. 

If  Delia  fmile,  the  |1  flow'rs  begin  to  fpring. 
But  ought  to  be  pronounced  in  the  following  manner^, 

If  D.^lia  fmiie,  ||  the  flow'rs  begin  to  fpring. 

If  rhen  it  be  not  a  matter  of  indifferency  where  to  make 
the  paufe,  there  ought  to  be  rules  for  determining  what 
words  may  be  feparated  by  a  paufe,  and  what  are  inca- 
pable of  fucli  feparation.  I  lliall  endeavour  to  afcertain 
thefe  rules5  not  chiefly  for  their  utility,  but  in  order  to 
unfold  fome  latent  principles,  thaTtend  to  regulate  our 
tafte  even  where  we  are  fcarce  fenfible  of  them  :  and  to 
that  end,  the  method  that  appears  the  moft  promifing, 
is  to  run  over  the  verbal  relations,  beginning  with  the 
mnft  intimate.  The  firft  that  prefents  itfelf,  is  that  of 
adjedlive  and  fubfl:antive,  being  the  relation  of  fubjeft 
and  quality,  the  molt  intimate  of  all:  and  with  refpedt 
to  fuch  intimate  companions,  the  quefl:ion  is.  Whether 
they  can  bear  to  be  leparated  by  a  paufe.  What  occurs 
J?,  that  a  quality  cannot  exift  independent  of  a  fubjeft  ; 
nor  are  they  feparable  even  in  imagination,  becaufe  they 
make  parts  of  the  lame  idea  :  and  for  that  reafon,  with 
refped  to  melody  as  well  as  fenfe,  it  mud  be  difagreea- 
ble,  to  bellow  upon  the  adjeftive  a  fort  of  independent 
exifte;.ce,  by  interjetftipg  a  paufe  between  it  and  its  fub- 
ftantive.  I  cannot  theretore  approve  the  follov/ing  lineSj, 
nor  any  of  the  fort  j  for  to  my  tafte  they  are  harlh  and 
unpleafant  -  .: 

Of  thoufand  briglit  ||  inhabitants  of  air. 

The  fpiites  of  fiery  ||  termagants  inflame. 

The  refl:,  h;s  many  colour'd  j|  robe  conceal'd,      -• 

The  fame,  his  antient  ||  perfonage  tp  deck. 

Ev'n  here,  where  frozen  ||  Chaftity  retires, 

D  5  .  Jfit, 


84  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

1  fif,  with  fad  II  civtiiry,  I  read. 
Back  to  my  native  ||  moderation  Aide. 
Or  lliall  we  ev'ry  ||  decency  confound. 
Time  was,  a  fober  ||  Englifliman  would  knock. 
And  place,  on  good  ||  ftcnriry,  his  gold. 
Tafte,  that  eternal  ]]  wanderer,  which  flies. 
But  ere  the  tenth  ||  revolving  day  was  run. 
Firfl:  let  the  juft  1|  equivalent  be  paid. 
Go,  threat  thy  thy  earth-i>orn  \\  Myrmidons ;  but  here. 
Hafl:e  to  the  fierce  ||  Achilles'  tent  (he  cries). 
All  but  the  ever-wakeful  ||  eyes  of  Jove. 
Your  own  refiftlefs  ||  elocjiience  employ. 

I  have  upon  this  article  multiplied  examples,  that  in  a 
cafe  where  I  have  the  misfortune  to  difiike  what  paflcs 
current  in  pradice,  every  man  upon  the  fpot  may  judge 
by  his  own  tafbe.  And  to  tafte  I  appeal  j  for  though 
the  foregoing  reafoning  appears  to  me  juft,  it  is  howe- 
ver too  lubtile  to  afford  conviQion  in  oppofnion  to  tafte. 
Coniidering  this  matter  fuperficially,  one  Diight  be 
apt  to  imagine,  that  it  muft  be  the  fame,  whetlier  the 
adjeflive  go  firrt,  which  is  the  natural  order,  or  the  fub- 
ftantive,  which  is  indulged  by  the  laws  of  inverlion. 
But  we  foon  difcover  this  to  be  a  miftake  :  colour,  for 
example,  cannot  be  conceived  independent  of  the  lur- 
face  coloured;  but  a  tree  may  be  conceived,  as  grow- 
ing in  a  certain  fpot,  as  of  a  certain  kind,  and  as  fpread- 
ing  its  extended  branches  all  around,  without  ever  think- 
ing of  its  colour.  In  a  word,  a  lubjctft  may  be  confi- 
dered  v/ith  fome  of  is  qualities  independent  of  others; 
though  we  cannot  form  an  image  of  any  lingle  quality 
independent  of  the  fubjeiS.  Thus  then,  though  an  ad- 
jedlive  nared  firft  be  infeparable  from  the  fubftantive, 
the  propoiltion  c'oes  not  reciprocate;  an  image  can  be 
formed  ot  'he  fubftantive  independent  of  the  adjeftive; 
and  for  that  reafon,  they  may  be  feparated  by  a  paufe, 
when  the  fubftantive  takes  the  lead. 

For  thee  the  fates  ||  feverely  kind  ordain. 

And  curs'd  with  hearts  1|  unknowing  how  to  yield. 

The  veib  and  adverb  are  precifely  in  the  fame  con- 
dition 


Sea. IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  S5 

dition  with  the  fubftantive  and  adjeflive.  An  adverb, 
which  modifi-es  the  adtion  exprefled  by  the  verb,  is  not 
feparable  from  the  verb  even  in  imagination  ;  and  there- 
fore I  muft  aifo  give  up  the  following  lines. 

And  which  it  much  ||  becomes  you  to  forget. 

'Tis  one  thing  madly  i|  to  difperfe  my  ftore. 

But  an  aftion  may  be  conceived  with  fome  of  its  modi- 
fications, leaving  out  others,  precifely  as  a  fubjeft  may 
be  conceived  with  fome  of  its  quah'ties,  leaving  out  o- 
thers  ;  and  therefore,  when  by  inverfion  the  verb  is  firll 
introduced,  it  has  no  bad  eife£t  to  inteijedt  a  paufe  be- 
tv-zeen  it  and  the  adveib  which  follows:  this  may  be 
done  at  the  clofe  of  a  line,  where  the  paufe  is  at  leaft 
as  full  as  that  is  which  divides  the  line ; 

While  yet  he  fpoke,  the  Prince  advancing  drew. 
Nigh  to  the  lodge,  l^c. 

The  agent  and  its  a6tion  come  next,  exprefled  \i\ 
grammar  by  the  active  fubftantive  and  its  verb  Between 
thefe,  placed  in  their  natural  order,  there  is  no  difficul- 
ty of  inrerjeCiing  a  paufe  :  an  adtive  being  is  not  always 
in  motion,  and  therefore  it  is  eafily  feparable  in  idea 
from  its  adtion  :  when  in  a  fentence  the  fubftantive  takes 
the  lead,  we  know  not  that  aftion  is  to  follow  ;  and  as 
reft  muft  precede  the  commencement  of  motion,  this 
interval  is  a  proper  opportunity  for  a  paufe. 

But  when  by  inveilion  the  verb  is  placed  firft,  is  it 
lawful  to  feparate  it  by  a  paufe  from  the  active  fubftan- 
tive }  I  anfv/er,  Not  j  becaufe  an  attion  is  not  in  idea 
leparable  from  the  agent,  more  than  a  quality  from  the 
fubjedt  to  which  it  belongs.  Two  lines  of  the  firft  rate 
for  beauty,  have  always  appeared  to  me  exceptionablcj 
upon  account  of  the  paufe  thus  interjected  between  the 
verb  and  the  confequent  fubllantive ;  and  1  have  now 
difcovered  a  reafon  to  fupport  my  tafte  : 

In  thefe  deep  folitudes  and  awful  cells, 
Vv'here  heav'niy-penfive  0  Contemplation  dwells. 
And  ever-mufing  |!  Melancholy  reigns. 

The  point  of  the  greateft  delicacy  regards  the  a£live 
verb  and  the  pailive  fubftantive  placed  in  their  natural 
order.    On  the  one  hand,  it  will  be  obferved,  that  thefe 

words 


86  Beauty  OF  Lantguage.     Ch.  XVIII. 

words  fignify  things  which  are   not   feparable  in   idea  •' 
kining  cannot  be  conceived  without  a  being  that  is  put 
to  death,  nor  painting  without  a  furface  upon  which  the 
colours  are  fpread.     On  the  other  hand,  an  adion  and 
the  thing  on  which  it    is  exerted,  are  not,  like  fubjeft 
and  quality,  united  in  one  individual  objeft  :   the  aftive 
I'ubftantive  is  perfedly  diftinft  from   that  which  is  paf- 
live;  and  they  are  connedted  by  one  circun)fl:ance  only, 
that   the  action  exerted  by  the  former,  is  exerted  upon 
the  latter.     This  makes  it  polfible  to  take  the  adion  to 
pieces,  and  to  confider  it  firft  with  relation  to  the  agent, 
•and  next  with  relation  to  the  parient.     Bit  after  all,  fo    . 
intimately  connedled  are  the  parts  of  the  thought,  that    ; 
it  requires  an  effi.Tt  to  make  a  feparation  even  for  a  mo- 
ment:  the  fubtilifing  to  fuch  a  degree  is  not  agreeable, 
efpecially  in  works  of  imagination.  The  beft  poets  how- 
ever, taking  advantage  of  this  fubtilty,  fcruple  not  to  -• 
f^parate  by  a  paufe  an  active  verb  from  the  thing  upon  . 
which  it  is  exerted.     Such  paufes  in  a  long  work  may    j 
be  indulged  ;  but   taken  fingly,  they  certainly  are  not  s; 
agreeable  J  and  I  appeal  to  the  following  examples. 

The  peer  now  fpreads  ||  the  glitt'ring  forfex  wide. 
As  ever  fully'd  |1  the  fair  face  of  light, 
Repair'd  to  fearch  ||  the  gloomy  cave  of  Spleen, 
Nothing,  to  make  |i  philofophy  thy  friend. 
Shou'd  chance  to  make  j]  the  well  drefs'd  rabble  ftareo 
Or  ciofs,  to  plunder  1|  provinces,  the  main. 
Thefe  madmen  ever  hurt  jj  the  church  or  ft:.te. 
How  fhall  we  fill  II  a  library  with  wit. 
V/ha":  better  teach  ||  a  foreigner  the  tongue. 
Sure,  if  I  fpare  H  the  minifter,  no  rules. 
Of  honour  bind  me,  not  to  maul  his  tools. 

On  the  other  hand,  when  the  pafiive  fubflantive  is  by 
inverfion  firft  named,  there  is  no  ditficulty  of  interject- 
ing a  paufe  between  it  and  the  veib,  more  than  when 
the  aftive  fubftantive  is  fiift  named.  The  fame  reafon 
holds  in  both-,  that  tho'  a  verb  cannot  be  feparated  in 
idea  from  the  fubftanrive  which  governs  it,  and  fcarceiy 
-fioni  ;he  (ubllan'ive  it  governs  ;  yet  a  fubftanfve  may 
^aiWavs  Le  conceived  independent  of  the  verb:  when  the 

paffive 


Se£i.  IV.        Beauty  OF  Language.  S7 

pafTive  fubftantive  is  introduced  before  the  verb,  we 
know  not  that  an  adtion  is  to  be  exerted  upon  it ;  there- 
fore we  may  reft  till  the  aftion  commences.  For  the 
fake  of  illuftration  take  the  following  examples. 

Shrines!  where  their  vigils  ||  pale-ey'd  virgins  keep,     . 
Soon  as  thy  letters  |1  trembling  I  unclofe. 
No  happier  talk  1|  thefe  faded  eyes  purfue. 

What  is  faid  about  the  paufe,  leads  to  a  general  ob- 
fervation :  That  the  natural  order  of  placing  the  active 
fubftantive  and  its  verb,  is  more  friendly  to  a  paufe  than 
the  inverted  order  j  but  that  in  all  the  other  connexions, 
inverilon  affords  by  far  a  better  opportunity  for  a  paufe. 
And  hence  one  great  advantage  of  blank  verfe  over 
rhyme;  its  privilege  of  inverfion  giving  it  a  much  great- 
er choice  of  paufes,  than  can  be  had  in  the  natural  or- 
der of  arrangement. 

We  now  proceed  to  the  (lighter  connections,  which 
fhall  be  difcuffed  in  one  general  article.  Words  con- 
nedted  by  conjunctions  and  prepofitions  admit  freely  a 
paufe  between  them,  which  will  be  clear  from  the  fol- 
lowing inftances  ; 

Aflame  what  fexes  jj  and  what  fliape  they  pleafe. 
The  light  militia  I|  of  the  lower  fky. 

Connecting  particles  were  invented  to  unite  in  a  period 
tv.'o  fubftantives  iignifying  things  occahonally  united  in 
the  thought,  but  which  have  no  natural  union:  and  be- 
tween two  things  not  only  feparable  in  idea,  but  really 
diftinCt,  the  mind,  for  the  fake  of  melody,  chearfully 
admits  by  a  paufe  a  momentary  disjunction  of  their  oc- 
lolonal  union. 

One  capital  branch  of  the  fubjeCt  is  ftill  upon  hand, 
to  which  I  am  direCted  by  what  is  juft  now  faid.  It 
concerns  thofe  parts  of  fpeech  which  fingly  repiefent 
no  idea,  and  which  become  not  (ignificant  till  they  be 
joined  to  other  words  :  I  mean  conjunctions,  prepofi- 
tions, articles,  and  fuch  like  acceffories,  palling  under 
the  name  of  particles.  Upon  thefe  the  quellion  oc- 
curs. Whether  they  can  be  feparated  by  a  paufe  from 
the  words  that  make  them  fignificant  ?  whether,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  following  lines,  the  feraration  of  the  ac- 

ctffory 


S8  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.XVlII. 

ceflbry  prepofition  from  the  principal  fubftantive,  be  ac- 
cording to  rule  ? 

T  he  goddefs  with  |]  a  difconrented  air. 

And  hcighren'd  by  |1  the  diamond's  circling  rays.    , 

When  vi£lim's  at  ||  yon  altar's  foot  we  lay. 

So  take  it  in  ||  the  very  words  of  Creech, 

An  enfigti  of  |I  the  delegates  of  Jove. 

Two  ages  o'er  ||  his  native  realm  he  reign'd. 

While  angels j  with  ||  their  filver  wings  o'erdiade. 

Or  the  feparation  of   the  conjunction    from  the  word 
that  is  connected  by  it  with  the  antecedent  word  : 

Talthybius  and  jj  Eurybates  the  good. 
It  v.'ill  be  obvious  at  the  nrll  glance,  that  the  foregoing 
reafoning  upon  objects  naturally  connected,  are  not  ap- 
plicable to  wordb  which  of  themfeh  es  are  mere  cyphers: 
we  mud:  therefore  have  recourfe  to  fome  other  principle 
for  folving  the  prefent  queftion.  Thefe  particles  out  of 
their  place  are  totally  infignincant:  to  give  them  a  mean- 
ing, they  muft  be  joined  to  certain  words ;  and  the  ne- 
cellity  of  this  junction,  together  with  cuftom,  forms  an 
artificial  connection  that  has  a  firong  influence  upon  the 
mind:  it  cannot  bear  even  a  momentary  feparation, 
•which  deftroys  the  fenfe,  and  is  at  the  fame  time  con- 
tradictory to  practice.  Another  circumitance  tends  ftill 
more  to  make  this  feparation  difagreeable  in  lines  of  the 
firil:  and  third  order,  that  it  bars  the  accent,  which  wil! 
be  explained  afterward,  in  treating  of  the  accent. 

Hitherto  we  have  difcoui fed  upon  that  paufe  only 
which  divides  the  line.  We  proceed  to  the  paufe  n.at 
concludes  the  line  ;  and  the  queftion  is,  Whether  the 
fame  rules  be  applicable  to  both.  This  muft  be  an- 
fwered  by  making  a  diftinction.  In  the  firft  line  of  a 
couplet,  the  concluding  paufe  differs  little,  if  at  all, 
from  the  paufe  which  divides  the  line  ;  and  for  that  rea- 
fon,  the  rules  are  applicable  to  both  equally  1  he  con- 
cluding paufe  of  the  couplet,  is  in  a  ditferent  conoition: 
it  relembles  greatly  the  concluding  paufe  in  an  Hexa- 
meter line;  both  of  them  indeed  aie  fo  remaikable, 
that  they  never  can  be  graceful,  unlefs  when  thty  ac- 
company 


Sea.IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  89 

company  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe.  Hence  it  follows,  that 
a  couplet  ought  always  to  be  finifhed  with  feme  clofe  in 
the  fenfe  ;  if  not  a  point,  at  leaft  a  comma.  The  truth 
i?,  that  this  rule  is  feldom  tranfgreffed  :  in  Pope's  works 
I  find  very  few  deviations  from  the  rule:  take  the  toi- 
lowing  inftances. 

Nothing  is  foreign:  parts  relate  to  whole;  . 

One  all  extending,  all-preferving  foul, 

Conneds  each  being 

Another : 

To  draw  frefii  colours  from  the  vernal  flow'rs, 

To  fteal  from  rainbows  ere  they  drop  in  fliow'rs, 

A  brighter  waft- — - 

I  add  with  refpeil  to  paufes  in  general,  that  fuppc- 
fing  the  connexion  to  be  fo  llender  as  to  admit  a  paufe, 
it  follows  not  that  a  paufe  may  in  every  fuch  cale  he 
admitted.  There  is  one  rule  to  which  every  other  ought 
to  bend.  That  the  fenfe  muft  never  be  wounded  or 
obfcured  by  the  mufic  ;  and  upon  that  account  I  con- 
demn the  following  lines  : 

Ulylfes,  fiift  II  in  public  cares,  fhe  found. 
And, 
Who  riling,  high  |1  th' imperial  fceptre  rais'd. 

With  refpeft  to  inveifion,  it  appears,  both  from  rea- 
fon  and  experiments,  that  many  words  which  cannot 
bear  a  feparation  in  their  natural  order,  admit  a  paufe 
when  inverted.  And  it  may  be  added,  that  w^hen  two 
words,  or  two  members  of  a  fentence,  in  their  natural 
order,  can  be  feparated  by  a  paufe,  fuch  feparation  can 
never  be  amifs  in  an  inverted  order.  An  inverted  peri- 
od, which  deviates  from  the  natural  train  of  ideas,  re- 
quires to  be  marked  in  fome  meafure  even  by  paufes  in 
the  fenfe,  that  the  parts  may  be  diftinftly  known.  Take 
the  following  examples. 

As  with  cold  lips  ||  I  kifs'd  the  facred  veil. 
With  other  beauties  y  chaim  my  partial  eyes. 
Full  in  my  view  ||  fer  all  the  bright  abode. 
With  words  like  thefe  H  the  troops  UlyfTes  rul'd. 
Back  to  th'  aifembly  roll  |1  the  thronging  train. 

Not 


fo  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIIL 

Not  for  their  grief  1|  the  Grecian  hoft  I  blame. 

The  fame  where  the  feparation  is  made  at  the  clofe  of 
the  firft  line  of  rlie  coup'et  : 

For  fpirits    freed  from  mortal  laws,  with  eafe. 
Affiime  what  lexes  and  what  ftapes  they  pleafe. 

The  pau^e  is  tolerable  even  at  the  clofe  of  the  cou- 
plet, for  the  rea'on  jnft  now  fuggefted,  that  inverted 
members  require  fome  flight  paufe  jn  the  fenfe: 

'Twas  where  the  plane-tree  fpread  its  fhades  a'-ound: 
The  altars  heav'd  ;  and  from  the  crumbling  ground 
A  mighty  dragon  fliot. 

Thus  a  train  of  reafoning  hath  infeufibly  led  us  ta 
conclufions  with  regaid  to  the  miifical  paufe,  very  dif-  -■ 
ferent  frr-m  thofe  in  the  firft  feftion,  concerning  the  fe-  \ 
parating  by  an  interjeded  circumllance  words  intimate- 
ly connefledv  One  would  conjcflure,  that  where-ever 
words  are  fep^rable  by  ir.terjefting  a  circumdance,  they 
fliould  be  equally  feparable  by  interjecting  a  paufe  :  but, 
upon  a  more  narrow  inlpection,  the  appearance  of  ana- 
logy vanifheth.  This  will  be  evident  from  confidering, 
that  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe  diftinguifhes  the  different  mem- 
bers of  a  period  from  each  other ;  whereas  when  two 
words  of  the  fame  member  are  feparated  by  a  circum- 
ftance,  ail  the  three  make  ftill  but  one  member;  and 
therefore  that  words  may  be  feparated  by  an  interject- 
ed circumftance,  tho\igh  thefe  words  are  not  feparated 
by  a  pauie  in  the  fenfe..  This  fets'tne  matter  in  a  clear 
light;  for,  as  obferved  above*  a  mufical  paufe  is  inti- 
mately conne&ed  with  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe,  and  ought, 
as  far  as  poiiible,  to  be  governed  by  it:  particularly  a 
mufical  paufe  ought  never  to  be  placed  where  a  paufe 
is  excluded  by  the  fenfe,  as,  for  example,  between  the 
adjective  and  following  fubftantive,  which  make  parts 
of  the  fame  idea  ;  and  ftill  lefs  between  a  particle  and 
the  >Aord  that  make:;  it  fignificant. 

Abftiadling  at  prefent  trom  the  peculiarity  of  melody    • 
arifing  from  rhe  different  paufes,  it  cannot  fad  to  be  ob- 
ferved in  general,  that  they  introduce  into  our  verfe  no 
flight  degree  of  variety.     A   number  of  uniform   lines 
having  all  the  fame  paufe^are  extremely  fatiguing, which 


Sed.  IV.         Beauty  of  Language.  91 

is  remarkable  in  the  French  verfification.  This  imper- 
fedion  will  be  difcerned  by  a  fine  ear  even  in  the  fhort- 
eft  fucceflion,  and  becomes  intolerable  in  a  long  poem. 
Pope  excels  in  the  variety  of  his  melody,  which  indeed 
is  not  lefs  perfe£t  of  its  kind  than  that  of  Virgil, 

From  what  is  laft  faid,  there  ought  to  be  one  excep- 
tion :  uniforn\ity  in  the  members  of  a  thought,  demands 
equal  uniformity  in  the  verbal  members  which  exprefs 
that  thought.  When  therefore  refembiing  objects  or  • 
things  are  exprefled  in  a  plurality  of  verle-lines,  thef« 
lines  in  their  ftru£ture  ought  to  be  as  uniform  as  pofTi- 
ble,  and  the  paufes  in  particular  ought  all  of  them  to 
have  the  fame  place.     Take  the  following  examples. 

By  foreign  hands  1|  thy  dying  eyes  were  clos'd, 
By  foreign  hands  H  thy  decent  limbs  compos'd. 
By  foreign  hands  |1  thy  hutnble  grave  adorn'd. 

Again : 
Bright  as  the  fun  \\  her  eyes  the  gazers  ftrikcj 
And,  like   the  fun,  H  they  Ihine  on  all  alike. 

Speaking  of  Nature,  or  the  God  of  Nature  :    . 

Warms  in  the  fun  II  refrefhes  in  the  breeze, 
Glows  in  the  ftars  ||  and  bloffoms  in  the  trees, 
Lives  through  all  lite  |1  extends  through  all  extent. 
Spreads  undiuded  |1  operates  unfpent. 

Paufes  are  like  to  rennain  longer  upon  hand  than  was 
cxpe«Sled  ;  for  the  fubji?£l  is  not  yet  exhaufted.  It  is 
laid  down  above,  that  Englifh  Heroic  verfe  admits  no 
more  but  four  capital  paufes ;  and  that  the  capita!  paufe 
of  every  line  is  determined  by  the  fenfe  to  be  after  the 
fourth,  the  fifth,  the  fixth,  or  feventh  fyllable.  That 
this  doctrine  holds  true  fo  far  a^  melody  alor\e  is  con- 
cerned, will  be  teftify'd  by  every  good  ear.  At  the 
fame  time  I  admit,  that  this  rule  rHay  be  varied  where 
the  fenfe  or  expreilion  requires  a  variation  ;  and  that  fo 
far  the  melody  may  juflly  be  facrificed.  Examples  ac- 
cordingly are  not  unr'requent,  in  Milton  efpecially,  of 
the  capital  paufe  being  after  the  fiift,  the  fecond,  or  the 
third  fyllable.  And  that  this  licence  may  be  taken,  e- 
ven  gracefully,  when  it  adds  vigor  to  the  expreffion,  will 
^e   clear  from   the  following  example.      Pope,  in   his 

trunflatios 


02  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

tranflation  of  Homer,  defcribes  a  rock   broke  off  from 
a  mountain,  and  hurling  to  the    plain,  in  the  following 
words. 
From  fteep  to  fteep  tVie  rolling  ruin  bounds; 
At  every  (hock  the  crackling  wood  refounds ; 
Still  gath'ring  force,  it  fmokes;  and  urg'd  amain, 
Whirls,  leaps,  and  thunders  down,  impetuous  to  the 

plain  : 
There  flops  |1  So  Hector,  Their  whole  force  he  prov'd, 
Refiltlefs  when  he  r.-ig'd  ;  and  when  he  ftopt,  unmov'd. 

In  the  penult  line  the  proper  place  of  the  iDufical  paufe 
is  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  fyliablej  but  it  enlivens  the 
expreffijn  by  irs  coincidence  with  that  of  the  kn{e  at 
the  end  of  the  fecond  fy liable:  the  topping  (bort  be- 
fore the  ufual  paufe  in  the  melody,  aids  the  impreflion 
that  is  made  by  the  defcription  of  the  ftone's  (topping 
fbort  ;  and  what  is  loft  to  the  melody  by  this  artifice,  is 
more  than  compenfated  by  the  force  that  is  added  to  the 
defcription.  Milton  makes  a  happy  ufe  of  this  licence  i 
witnels  the  following  examples  from  his  Paradife  loji. 

m. Thus  with  the  year 

Seafons  return,  but  not  to  me  returns 
Day  [|  or  the  f.veet  approach  of  even  or  morn. 
Celefiial  voices  to  the  midnight  air 
Sole  Ij  or  refponfive  eacli  to  others  note. 
And  over  them  triumphant  Death  his  dart  ■ 
.Shook  II  but  delay'd  to  fcrike. 

-  And  wild  uproar 

Stood  rul'd  II  flood  vafl  infinitude^confin'd. 

• -■ And  hard'ning  in  his  ftrength 

Glories  ||  for  never  (nice  created  man 

Met  fuch  embodied  fo.ce. 

From  his  (lack  hand  the  garland  wreath'd  for  Eve    • 

Down  drop'd  j]  and  all  the  faded  rofes  Ihed, 

Of  unefTcntial  night,  receives  him  next, 

VVide  gaping  j]  and  with  utter  lols  of  being  . 

Threatens  him,  ^c, 

~^ : For  now  the  thought  , 

Both  of  loll  happinefs  and  lafling  pain 
Torments  hiai  jl  round  he  thiows  his  baleful  eyes,  ^c. 

If 


Se£t.  IV.        Beaittv  OF  Language.  93 

If  we  confider  the  foregoing  paflages  with  refpect  to 
melody  fingly,  the  pavifes  are  undoubtedly  out  of  their 
proper  place  ;  but  being  united  with  thofe  of  the  fenfe, 
they  inforce  the  expreflion,  and  enliven  it  greatly  ;  for, 
as  has  been  more  than  once  obferved,  the  beauty  of  ex- 
preflion is  communicated  to  the  found,  which,  by  a  na- 
tural deception,  makes  even  the  melody  appear  more 
perfeft  than  if  the  mufical  paufes  were  regular. 

To  explain  the  rules  of  accenting,  two  general  ob- 
fervations  muft  be  premifed.  The  fiift  is,  that  accents 
have  a  double  effed :  they  contribute  to  the  melody,  by 
giving  it  air  and  fpirit :  they  contribute  not  lefs  to  the 
ienCe,  by  diftinguifhing  important  words  from  others  *. 
Thefe  two  effects  can  never  be  feparated,  without  im- 
pairing the  concord  that  ought  to  fubfift  between  the 
thought  and  the  melody:  an  accent,  for  example,  pla- 
ced on  a  low  word,  has  the  efre<S  to  burlefque  it,  by 
giving  it  an  unnatural  elevation  ;  and  the  injury  thus 
done  to  the  fenfe  does  dot  reft  there,  for  it  leems  alfo 
to  injure  the  melody.  Let  us  only  rcfleO;  what  a  ridi- 
culous figure  a  particle  muft  make  with  an  accent  or 
emphafis  put  upon  it,  a  particle  that  of  itfelf  has  no 
meaning,  and  that  ferves  only,  like  cement,  to  unite 
words  fignificant.  The  other  general  obfervatioa  is, 
That  a  word  of  whatever  number  of  fyllables,  is  not 
accented  upon  more  than  one  of  them.  The  reafon  is, 
that  the  objeft  is  fet  in  its  heft  light  by  a  fmgle  accent, 
fo  as  to  make  more  than  one  unnecelfary  for  the  fenfe: 
and  if  another  be  added,  it  muil  be  for  the  found  mere- 
ly ;  which  would  be  a  tranfgreflion  of  the  foiegoing 
rule,  by  ieparating  a  mufical  accent  from  that  which  is 
requifite  for  the  fenfe. 

Keeping  in  view  the  foregoing  obfervations,  the  doC" 
trine  of  accenting  Englilh  Heroic  verfe  is  extremely  fim- 
ple.  In  the  firft  place,  accenting  is  confined  to  the  long 
fyllables ;  for  a  fliort  fyllable  is  not  capable  of  an  ac- 
cent. In  the  next  place,  as  the  melody  is  enriched  in 
proportion  to  the  number  of  accents,  every  word  that 
has  a  long  fyllable  may  be  accented  j  unlefs  the  fenfe  in- 

terpofe, 

*  An  accent  confidered  with  refpcA  to  fenfe  is  termed 
emphafis. 


94  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.XVIII. 

terpofe,  v. hich  rejcfts  tlie  nccernng  a  word  rViat  makes 
no  figure  by  its  fignificat'on.  According  to  this  rule,  a 
line  may  admit  five  accents  ;  a  cafe  by  no  means  rare. 

But  fuppcifing  every  long  fyltable  to  be  accented, 
there  is,  in  every  line,  one  accent  that  makes  a  gieater 
figure  than  the  reft,  being  that  which  precedes  the  ca- 
pital paufe.  It  is  dill'nguilhed  into  two  kirids  ;  one  thit 
is  immediately  fucceedtd  by  the  paufe,  and  one  that  is 
divided  from  the  paufe  hy  a  fhort  fyllable.  1  be  former  •. 
belongs  to  lines  of  the  htA  ard  third  order  :  the  latter 
to  tliofe  of  the  fecmd  and  fourth.  Examples  of  the 
firft  kind  : 

Smooth  flow  tbe  \\aves  |1  the  zephyrs  gently  play,     , 
Belinda  fmird  |i  and  all  the  world  was  gay. 
He  rais'd  his  azure  wand  II  and  thus  began. 
Examples  of  the  other  kind  : 

There  Iny  thrre  girters  I|  half  a  pair  of  gloves,     . 

And  all  the  trophies  jj  Oi   his  former  loves. 

Our  humble  province  \\  is  to  tend  the  fair. 

Not  a  lefs  pl^afing  1|  though  lefs  glorious  care. 

And  hew  triumphal  arches  H  to  the  ground. 
Thefe  accents  make  diflxrent  iirpreflions  on  the  mind, 
which  will  be  the  fubj^et  of  a  following  Ipeculation.  In 
the  mean  time,  it  may  be  fafely  pronounced  a  capital  de- 
fect in  the  compoficion  of  ver!e,  to  put  a  low  word,  inca- 
pable of  an  accent,  in  the  place  where  this  accent  Ihould 
be  :  this  bars  the  accent  altogether  ;  than  which  I  know 
no  fault  more  fubverfive  of  the  melody,  if  it  he  not  the 
barring  a  paufe  altogether.  I  may  add  affi'matively, 
that  no  fingle  circumftaqce  contiihutes  more  to  the  e- 
ncrgy  of  verfe,  than  to  have  the  place  v.'hfre  this  ac- 
cent fliould  be,  occupied  by  a  word  of  an  important  fig- 
nificarion,  fuch  a?  merits  a  peculiar  emf)hafi3.'  To  fhovv 
the  bad  effect  of  excluding  the  capital  accent,  1  refer 
the  reader  to  fome  in'laiices  g'ven  above  *,  where  par- 
ticles are  feparatcd  by  a  paufe  from  the  capita!  words 
that  make  them  fignificant  ;  and  which  particles  ought, 
for  the  fake  of  the 'melody,  to  be  accented,  were  they 

capable 

*  Page  1 36. 


Se£t.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  95 

capable  of  an  accent.     Add  to  thefe  the  following  ia- 
ftances  from  the  effay  on  Criiicifm, 
Of  leaving  what  Ij  is  naruial  and  fit.  //«(?  448, 

Not  yet.purg'd  off,  |1  of  fpleen  and  four  difdain.    /,  5^8. 
Na  pardon  vile  |1  obfcenity  fhould  fiiid.  /.  531. 

When  love  was  all  |1  an  eafy  monarch's  care,      /.  537. 
For  'tis  but  half  |J  a  judge's  tallc,  to  know.  /   562. 

'    'Tii  not  enough,  ||  tafte,  judgme«t,  learning,  join. 

/.  563. 
That  only  makes  ||  fuperior  fenfe  belov'd.  /.  578. 

Whofe  right  it  is,  1|  uncenfur'd,  to  be  dull.         /.  590. 
*Tis  beft  fometimes  iJ  your  cenfure  to  rellrain.    /,  597. 
When  this  fault  is  at  the  end  of  a  line  that  clofes  a 
coupler,  it  leaves  not  the  leall  trace  of  melody  ; 
But  of  this  frame  the  bearings,  and  the  ties, 
The  ftrong  connections,  nice  dependencies. 

In  a  line  exprefii.'e  of  what  is  humble  or  dejeded,  it 
improves  the  refemblance  between  the  found  and  fenfe 
to  exclude  the  capital  accent.     This,  to  my  tafte,  is  a 
beauty  in  the  following  lines. 
In  thefe  deep  folitudes  ||  and  awful  cells 
The  poor  inhabitant  II  beholds  in  vain  - 

To  conclude  this  article,  the  accents  are  not,  like 
the  fyllables,  confined  to  a  certain  number  :  lome  lines 
have  no  fewer  than  five,  and  there  are  lines  that  admit 
;  rjot  above  one.  This  variety,  as  we  have  feen,  depends 
entirely  on  the  different  powers  of  the  co:iiponent  words: 
particles,  even  where  they  are  long  by  pofition,  cannot 
be  accented  I  and  polyfyllables,  whatever  fpace-they  oc- 
cupy, admit  but  one  accent.  Polyfyllables  have  ano- 
ther defett,  that  they  generally  exclude  the  full  paufe. 
It  is  fhown  above,  that  few  polyfyllables  can  find  place 
in  the  conftrudlion  of  Englifli  verfe  ;  a.id  here  are  tea- 
loas  for  excluding  them,  could  they  find  place. 

I  am  now  ready  to  fulfil  a  promifc  concerning  the 
four  forts  of  lines  that  enter  into  Englifii  Heroic  Vf  rfe. 
That  thefe  have,  each  of  them,  a  peculiar  n  elody  dif- 
tinguilhable  by  a  good  ear,  I  ventured  to  luggeft,  and 
promifed  to  account  for ;  and  though  the  fubje<5t  is  ex- 
tremely 


96  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch. XVIII. 

tremely  delicate,  I  am  not  without  hopes  of  making 
good  my  engagement.  But  firft,  by  way  of  precaution, 
I  warn  the  candid  reader  not  to  expeft  this  peculiarity 
of  modulation  in  every  inftance.  The  reafon  why  it  is 
not  always  perceptible  has  been  mentioned  more  than 
once,  'viz-  that  the  thought  and  exprelliDn  have  a  great 
influence  upon  the  melody  ;  fo  great,  as  in  many  in- 
flances  to  make  the  pooreft  nr.elody  pafs  for  rich  and  fpi- 
rited.  This  confideration  ni:ikes  me  iniifl:  upon  a  con- 
cefTion  or  two  that  will  not  be  thought  unreafonable  : 
firfl:,  That  the  experiment  be  tried  upon  lines  equal  with 
refpeft  to  the  thought  and  exprelhon  ;  for  otherwife  one 
may  eafily  be  mifled  in  judging  of  the  melody  :  and 
next,  That  thefe  lines  be  regularly  accented  before  the 
paufe;  for  upon  a  matter  abundantly  refined  in  itfelf,  I 
would  not  willingly  be  embarralFed  with  faulty  and  ir- 
regukr  lines. 

Thefe  preliminaries  being  adjufted,  I  begin  with  fome 
general  obfervations,  that  will  fave  repeating  the  fame 
thing  over  and  over  upon  each  particular  cafe.  And, 
firft,  an  accent  fucceeded  by  a  paufe,  as  in  lines  of  the 
firft  and  thiid  order,  makes  a  much  greater  figure  than 
where  the  voice  goes  on  without  a  ftop.  The  fa£t  is  fo 
certain,  that  no  perfon  vvho  has  an  ear  can  be  at  a  lofs 
to  diflinguifh  that  accent  from  others.  Nor  have  we 
far  to  f^-^ek  for  the  efficient  caufe:  the  elevation  of  an 
accenting  tone  producech  in  the  mind  a  fimilar  elevation, 
which  continues  during  the  paufe*:  but  where  the 
pau'c  is  fepaiated  from  the  accent  by  a  fhort  fyllable,  as 
in  lines  ot  the  fecond  and  fourth  order,  the  impreffion 
made  by  the  accent  is  more  flight  v/hen  there  is  no  ftop, 

and 


*  Hence  :he  livelinefs  of  the  French  language  as  to 
found,  above  the  EngliOi  j  the  la'l  fyllable  in  the  for- 
mer bviing  generally  long  and  accented,  the  long  fyllable 
in  rhe  lattei  being  ge-erally  as  far  back  in  the  word  as 
prftlMe,  and  often  v/ithout  an  accent.  For  this  difter- 
encr  I  find  no  caufe  fo  probable  as  temperament  and  dif- 
pofition  ;  the  French  being  briili  and  lively,  the  Englifn 
fedate  and  refer ved  ;  and  this,  if  it  hold,  is  a  pregnant 
inftance  of  a  refemblance  betv.'een  the  charader  of  a 
people  and  that  of  their  language.  i 


Se6l.IV.        Beautj.  OF  Language.  97 

and  the  elevation  of  the  accent  is  gone  in  a  moment  by 
the  falKng  of  the  voice  in  pronouncing  the  fhort  fyllable 
that  follows.  The  paufe  alfo  is  fenfihiy  aftedted  by  the 
pofition  of  the  accent:  in  lines  of  the  firft  and  third  or- 
der, the  clofe  conjiinflion  of  the  accent  and  paufe,  oc- 
cafions  a  fudden  ftop  without  preparation,  which  roufes 
the  mind,  and  beftows  on  the  melody  a  fpirited  air  _: 
when,  on  the  other  hand,  the  paufe  is  feparated  from 
the  accent  by  a  fhort  fyllable,  which  alv/ays  happens  in 
lines  of  the  fecond  and  fourth  order,  the  paufe  is  foft 
and  gentle  ;  for  this  fhort  unaccented  fyllab'e  fucceeding 
one  that  is  accented,  mnft  of  courfe  be  pronounced 
with  a  falling  voice,  which  naturally  prepares  for  a 
paufe;  and  the  mind  falls  gently  from  the  accented  fyl- 
lable, and  Aides  into  reft  as  it  wee  infenfibly.  Further, 
the  lines  themfelvcs  derive  different  powers  from,  the 
pofition  of  the  paufe,  which  will  thus  appear.  A  paufe 
after  the  fourth  fyllable  divides  the  line  into  two  une- 
qual po  tions,  of  which  the  largeft  comes  lall :  this  cir- 
cumftance  refolving  the  line  into  an  afcending  feries, 
makes  an  imprellion  in  pronouncing  like  that  oi  mount- 
ing upward  j  and  to  this  impreilion  contributes  the  re- 
doubled effort  in  pronouncing  the  largeft  portion,  which 
is  laft  in  order.  The  mind  has  a  different  feeling  when 
the  paufe  fucceeds  the  fifth  fyllable,  which  divides  the 
line  into  two  equal  parts ;  thefe  parrs,  pronounced  wi<h 
equal  effort,  are  agreeable  by  their  uniiorniity.  A  line 
divided  by  a  paufe  after  the  fixth  fyllable,  makes  an  im- 
preffion  oppofite  to  that  firff  mentioned  :  being  divided 
into  two  unequal  portions,  of  which  the  fhorteft  if  laft 
in  order,  it  appears  like  a  flow  defcending  feries  j  and 
the  fecond  portion  being  pronounced  with  lefs  effort 
than  the  firft,  the  diminilhed  effort  piepaies  the  mind 
for  reft.  And  this  preparation  for  reft  is  ftill  move  fen- 
fibly  felt  where  the  paufe  is  after  the  feventh  fyllable, 
as  in  lines  of  the  fourth  order 

To  apply  thefe  obfei  vations  is  an  eafy  taflc.  A  Hne 
of  the  firft  order  is  of  all  the  moft  fpirited  and  lively  : 
the  accent,  being  followed  intlan.iy  by  a  paufe,  aiakes 
an  illuftfious  figure:  the  elevated  tone  of  the  accent  e- 
levates  the  mind:  the  mind  is  fupported  in  its  elevation 
by  the  fudden  unprepared  paufe  which  roufes  ar,d  ani- 
mates ; 


58  Beautv  ofXtAnguage.     Ch.XVin. 

mates:  and  the  line  itfelf,  reprefentlng  by  its  unequal 
divifion  an  afcendipj  feiies,  carries  the  mind  ftill  higher, 
making  an  impreinon  fitnilar  to  that  of  mounting  up- 
ward. The  fecond  order  has  a  modulation  fenfibly 
fweet,  foft,  and  flowing:  the  accent  i~-  not  fo  fprightly 
2.3  in  the  former,  becaule  a  fhort  fyliable  intervenes  be- 
tween it  and  the  paufe :  its  elevation,  by  the  fame  means, 
vaniflieth  inftantaneoufly  :  the  mind,  by  a  f^!Hng  voice, 
is  gently  prepared  for  a  ftop :  an  J  the  pLafure  of  uni- 
formity from  the  divifion  of  the  line  into  two  equal  parts, 
is  calm  and  fweet.  The  third  order  has  a  modulation 
not  fo  eafily  expreffed  in  words  :  it  in  part  r^fembles  the 
firft  order,  by  the  livelinefs  of  an  accent  fucceeded  in- 
ftantly  by  a  full  paufe:  but  then  the  elevation  occafion- 
ed  by  this  circumfl;ance,  is  balanced  in  fome  degiee  by 
the  remitted  effort  in  pronouncing  the  fecond  portion, 
which  remitted  effort  has  a  tendency  to  refl.  Another 
circumftance  diftinguifheth  It  remarkably:  its  capital  ac- 
cent comes  late,  being  placed  on  the  iixth  fyliable ;  and 
this  circumftance  beftows  on  it  an  air  of  gravity  and  fo- 
lemnity.  The  laft  order  refembles  the  fecond  in  the 
mildnef's  of  its  accent,  and  fofinefs  of  its  paufe  ;  it  is 
flill  more  folemn  than  the  third,  by  the  latenefs  of  its 
capital  accent:  it  alfo  poffelTes  in  a  higher  degree  than 
the  third,  the  tendency  to  reft  ;  and  by  that  circum- 
flance  is  of  all  the  beft  qualified  for  clofing  a  period  in 
the  completetl  manner. 

But  thefe  are  not  all  the  ditliinguifhing  charadters  of 
the  different  orders.  Each  order  alfo,  id  diflinguifhed 
by  its  final  accent  and  paufe  :  the  unequal  divifion  in  the 
firfl  order,  makes  an  impietlijn  of  afcending  ;  and  the 
mind  at  the  clofe  is  in  the  higheft  elevation,  which  na- 
turally prompts  it  to  put  a  ftrong  emphaiis  upon  the 
concluding  fyliable,  whether  by  raifing  the  voice  to  a 
fharper  tone,  or  by  exprefling  the  word  in  a  fuller  tone. 
This  order  accordingly  is  of  all  the  lealt  proper  for  con- 
cluding a  period,  ivhfie  a  cadence  is  proper,  and  not 
an  accent.  The  lecor.d  order,  being  deflitute  of  the 
iniprefhon  of  afcent,  cannot  >ival  the  firft  order  in  the 
elevanon  of  its  concluding  accent,  nor  confequently  in 
the  digi^ity  of  its  concluding  paufe;  for  thele  have  a 
mutual  I.ifluence,     This  order,  however,  with  refpect 

to 


Se£l.IV.         Bkauty   of  Language.  99 

to  its  clofe,    maintains  a  fuperiority  over  the  third  and 
fourth  orders :  in  thefe  the  clofe  is  more  humble,  being 
brought  down  by  the  inipreiTion  of  defcent,  and  by  the 
remitted  effort  in  pronouncinq; ;  conilderably  in  the  third 
order,  and  llill  more  confiderably  in  the  laft.     Accord- 
ing to  this  defcriution,  the  concluding  accents  and  pau- 
fes  of  the  four  orders  being  reduced  to  a  fcale,  will  form 
adefcending  feries  probably  in  an  arithmetical  progrelHon. 
After  what  is  faid,  will  it  be  thought  refining  too  much 
to  fuggeft,  that  the  different  orders  are  qualified  for  dif- 
ferent purpofes,  and  that  a  poet  of  genius  will  be  na- 
turally led  to  make  a  choice  accordingly  ?  I  cannot  think 
this  altogether  chimerical.      As  it  appears  to  me,    the 
firft  order  is  proper  for  a  fentiment  that  is  bold,  lively, 
or   impetuous  ;  the   third  order  is  proper  for  fubje<5ts 
grave,  folemn,  or  lofty ;  the  fecond  for  what  are   ten- 
der, delicate,  or  melancholy,  and  in  general  for  all  the 
fympathetic  emotions ;  and  the  laft  for  fuhjei^s  of  the 
fame  kind,  when  tempered  with  any  degree  of  folemnl- 
ty.     I  do  not  contend,  that  any  one  order  is  fitted  for 
no  other  talk  than  that  affigned  it;  for  at  that  rate,  no 
fort  of  melody  would  be  left  for  accompanying  thoughts 
that  have  nothing  peculiar  in  them.     I  only  venture  to 
fuggeft,  and  I   do  it   with  diffidence,   that  each  of  the 
orders  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  certain  fubjeds,  and  bet- 
.  ter  qualified  than  the  others  for  expreOing  fuch  fubjedls. 
The  beft  v>'3y  to  judge  is  by  experiment;  and  to  avoid 
the  imputation  of  a  partial  fearch,  I  fliall  confine  my 
inftances  to  a  fingle  poem,  beginning  with  the  firft  order. 
On  her  white  breaft,  a  fpaikling  crofs  fhe  wore, 
Which  Jews  might  kifs,  and  infidels  adore. 
Her  lively  looks  a  fprightly  mind  difclofe, 
Quick  as  her  eyes,  and  as  unfix'd  as  thofe: 
Favours  to  none,  to  all  fhe  fmiles  extends ; 
Oft  fhe  rejefts,  but  never  once  offends. 
Bright  as  the  fun,  her  eyes  the  gazers  ftrike, 
And,  like  the  fun,  they  ihine  on  all  alike. 
Yet  graceful  eafe,  and  fweetnefs  void  of  piide. 
Might  hide  her  faults,  if  belles  had  faults  to  hide: 
If  to  her  (hare  fome  female  errors  fall. 
Look  on  her  face,  and  you'll  forget  'em  all. 

Rape  of  the  Lock. 
Vol.  II.  E  la 


100  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

In  accounting  for  the  remarkable  livelinefs  of  this  paf- 
fage,  it  will  be  acknowledged  by  every  one  who  has  an 
ear,  that  the  melody  niuft  come  in  for  a  fliare.  The 
lines,  all  of  them,  are  of  the  firft  order;  a  very  unufu- 
al  circumftance  in  the  author  of  this  poem,  fo  eminent 
for  variety  in  his  verfification.  Who  can  doubt,  that, 
in  this  paiTage,  he  bar  been  led  by  delicacy  of  tafte  to 
employ  the  firft  order  preferably  to  the  others? 
Second  order. 

Our  humbl?  province  is  to  tend  the  fair, 

Not  a  lefs  pleafing,   though  lefs  glorious  care; 

To  fave  the  powder  from  too  rude  a  gale, 

Nor  let  th'  imprifon'd  efTences  exhale  ; 

To  draw  frelTi  colours  from  the  vernal  flov/'rs ; 

To  fteal  from  rainbows,  ere  they  drop  their  (how'rs,  Ife. 
Again  : 

Oh,  thoughtlefs  mortals!  ever  blind  to  fate. 

Too  foon  dejected,  and  too  foon  elate. 

Sudden,  thefe  honours  Hiall  be  fnatch'd  away, 

And  curs'd  for  ever  this  vidorious  day. 
Third  order. 

To  fifty  chofen  fylphs,  of  fpecial  note, 

We  trull  th' important  charge,  rhe  petticoat. 
'Again : 

Oh  fay  what  Itranger  caufe,  yet  unexplor'd. 

Could  make  a  gentle  belle  rejedt  a  lord? 

A  plurality  of  lines  of  the  fourth  order,  would  not  have 
a  good  effe6t  in  fuccclTion  ;  becauTe,  by  a  remarkable 
tendency  to  reft,  their  proper  office  is  to  ciofe  a  period. 
The  reader,  therefore,  muft  be  fatisfied  with  inftances 
where  this  order  is  mixed  with  others. 

Not  louder  fhrieks  to  pitying  Heav'n  are  caft, 
When  huft)arius,  or  when  lap  dogs,  breathe  their  laft. 

Again : 
Steel  could  the  works  of  mortal  pride  confound. 
And  hew  triumphal  arches  to  the  ground. 

Again  : 
She  fees,  and  treiiibles  a'  th'  approaching  i!l, 
Juft  in  the  jav/s  ol"  tuii),  and  codille. 

Again  : 


S.cS:.  IV.         Beauty  of  Language.  ioi 

Again  : 
VVith  c?irnefl:  eyes,  and  round  untliinking  face, 
He  firft  the  fnufF-box  open'd,  then  the  cafe. 
And   this  fuggefts  another  experiment,  which  is,  to 

fet  the  different  orders  more  dircftly  in  oppofition,  by 

giving  examples  where  they  are  mixed  in  the  fame  paf- 

fage. 

Firft  and  fecond  orders. 
Sol  through  white  curtains  fhot  a  tim'rous  ray, 
And  cpe'd  thofe  eyes  that  muft  eclipfe  the  day. 

Again  : 
Not  youthful  kings  in  battle  feiz'd  alive, 
Not  fcornful  virgins  who  their  charms  furvive. 
Not  ardent  lovers  robb'd  of  all  their  blifs, 
Not  antient  ladies  when  refus'd  a  kifs. 
Not  tyrants  fierce  that  unrepenting  die, 
Not  Cynthia  when  her  inantua's  pin'd  av/ry. 
E'er  felt  fuch  rage,  refentment,  and  defpair. 
As   thou,  fad  virgin  !  for  thy  raviih'd  hair. 

Firft  and  third. 
Think  what  an  equipage  thou  haft  in  air. 
And  view  with  fcorn  two  pages  and  a  chair. 

Again  : 
What  guards  the  purity  of  melting  maids, 
In  courtly  balls,  and  midnight  mafquerades. 
Safe  from  the  treach'rous  friend,  the  daring  fpark. 
The  glance  by  day,  the  whifpei  in  the  darki^ 

Again  ; 
With  tender  billet-doux  he  lights  the  pyre. 
And  breathes  three  am'rous  ftghs  to  raife  the  fire; 
Then  proftrate  falls,  and  begs,  with  ardent  eyes, 
Soon  to  obtain,  and  long  poifefs  the  prize. 

Again : 
Jove's  thu:;der  roars,  heav'n  trembles  all  around, 
Hlue  Neptune  ftorms,   the  bellowing  deeps  refour.d. 
Earth  (hakes  her  nodding  tow'rs,  the  ground  gives  way, 
And  the  pale  ghofts  ftart  at  the  flafli  of  day  ! 

Second  and  third. 
Sunk  in  Thaleflris'  arms,  the  nymph  he  found. 
Her  eyes  dejedted,  and  her  hair  unbound. 

E  2  Again  : 


102  Beauty  OF  Language,      Ch.XVIIL 

Again  : 
On  her  heav'd  bofom  hung  her  drooping  head, 
"Which  with  a  (igh  fhe  rais'd;  and  thus  flie  faid, 
Mufing  on  the  foregoing  fubjedl,  I  begin  to  doubf 
whether  all  this  while  I  have  not  been  in  a  reverie,  and 
whether  the  fcene  before  me,  full  of  objects  new  and 
fingular,  be  not  mere  fairy-land.  Is  there  any  truth  in 
the  appearance,  or  is  it  wholly  a  work  of  imagination? 
We  cannot  doubt  of  its  reality  ;  and  we  may  with  affu- 
ra-nce  pronounce,  that  great  is  the  merit  of  Engli/h  He- 
roic verfe:  for  though  uniformitv  prevails  in  the  arrange- 
ment, in  the  equality  of  the  lines,  and  in  the  relem- 
blance  of  the  final  founds  j  variety  is  ftill  more  confpi- 
cuous  in  the  piufes  and  in  the  accents,  which  are  diver- 
fified  in  a  furprifing  manner.  Of  the  beauty  that  refults 
from  a  due  mixture  of  unifonuity  and  variety  *,  many 
inftances  have  already  occurred,  but  none  more  iiluftii- 
ous  than  Englifh  verfificarion :  however  rude  it  maybe 
in  the  fimplicity  of  its  arrangement,  it  is  highly  melo- 
dious by  its  paufes  and  accents,  fo  as  already  to  rival 
the  moti  perfect  fpecies  known  in  Greece  or  Rome;  and 
it  is  no  difagreeable  profpeft  to  find  it  ful'ceptible  of 
Itill  greater  refinement. 

We  proceed  to  blank  verfe^  which  hath  fo  many'cir- 
cumftances  in  common  with  rhyme,  that  what  is  pecu- 
liar to  it  may  be  brought  within  a  narrow  compafs. 
With  refpedt  to  form,  it  differs  from  rhyme  in  rejetting 
the  jins;ie  of  fimihir  founds, uhich  purifies  it  fiom  a  child- 
ilh  pleafure.  But  this  improvement  is  a  trifle  compi- 
red  with  what  follows.  Our  verfe  is  extremely  cramped 
by  rhyme  ;  and  the  great  advantage  of  blank  verfe 
is,  that,  being  free  from  the  fetters  of  rhyme,  it  is  at 
liberty  to  attend  the  imagination  in  its  boldeft  flights. 
Rhyme  necelfarily  divides  verfe  into  couiLtsj  each 
couplet  mskes  a  complete  mufical  period,  the  pa-is  of 
wL'ich  are  divided  by  paufes,  and  the  whole  lunuiud 
up  by  a  full  clofe  at  the  end  ;  the  melody  begins  anev/ 
with  the  next  couplet:  and  in  this  manner  a  com- 
pofitlon  in  rhyn;e  proceeds  couplet  atter  couplet,  I 
have  often  had  occafion  to  mem  ion  the  correfpandence 
and  concord  that  ought   to  fubfiu  between   found  and 

fenfe  j 

*  See  ch.;p.  ^. 


SeQ:.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  103 

fenfe  ;  from  which  it  is  a  plain  inference,  that  if  a  cou- 
plet be  a  complete  period  wi  th  regard  to  melody,  it  ought 
regularly  to  be  the  fame  with  regard  to  fenfe.  As  it  is 
extremely  difficult  to  fupport  fuch  llridnefs  of  compo- 
fition,  licences  are  indulged,  as  explained  above;  which 
however  muft  be  ufed  with  difcretion,  fo  as  to  preferve 
fome  degree  of  concord  between  the  fenfe  and  the  ma- 
fic :  theie  ought  never  to  be  a  full  clofe  in  the  fenfe  but 
at  the  end  of  a  couplet  j  and  there  ought  always  to  be 
fome  paufe  in  the  fenfe  at  the  end  of  every  couplet  :  the 
fame  period  as  to  fenfe  may  be  extended  through  feve- 
ral  couplets;  but  in  that  cafe  each  couplet  ought  to 
contain  a  difLinfl  member,  dillinguiflied  by  a  paufe  in  the 
fenfe  as  well  as  in  the  found  ;  and  the  wliole  ought  to 
be  clofed  with  a  complete  cadence*.  Rules  fuch  as 
thefe,  niuft  confine  rhyme  within  very  narrow  bounds  : 
a  thought  of  any  extent,  cannot  be  reduced  within  its 
compafs;  the  fenfe  muft  be  curtailed  and  broken  into 
parts,  to  make  it  fquare  with  the  curtnefs  of  the  melo- 
dy; and  befide,  fliort  periods  afford  no  latitude  for  in- 
verfion. 

I  have  examined  this  point  with  the  greater  accuracy, 
in  order  to  give  a  juft  notion  of  blank  veife;  and  to 
fliow  that  a  flight  difference  in  form  may  produce  a  very 
gieat  difference  in  fubftance.  Blank  verfe  has  the  fame 
pauies  and  accents  with  rhyme,  and  a  paufe  at  the  end 
of  every  line,  like  what  concludes  the  firft  line  of  a  cou- 
plet. In  a  word,  the  rules  of  melody  in  blank  verfe, 
are  the  fame  that  obtain  with  refpetl  to  the  firlt  line  of 
a  couplet;  but  being  difengaged  from  rhyme,  or  from 
couplets,  there  is  accefs  to  make  every  line  run  into  a- 
nothcr,  precii'ely  as  to  make  the  firft  line  of  a  couplet 
run  into  the  fecond.  There  muft  be  a  nmfical  paufe  at 
the  end  of  every  line  ;  but  this  paufe  is  lo  flight  as  not 
tu  require  a  paufe  in  the  fenfe  :  and  accordingly  the  fenfe 
E  3  may 

*  This  rule  is  quite  negleded  in  French  verification. 
Even  Boileau  makes  no  difficulty,  to  clofe  one  fubjedt 
with  the  firft  line  of  a  couplet,  and  to  begin  a  new  fub- 
jea  with  the  fecond.  Such  licence,  however  fanaified 
by  praaice,  is  unpleafant  by  the  difcordance  beCweea 
the  paufes  of  the  fenfe  and  of  the  melody. 


104  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

iTiay  He  carried  on  with  or  without  paufes,  till  a  period 
of  the  utmol\  extent  be  completed  by  a  full  clofe  both 
in  the  fenfe  and  the  found:  there  is  no  reftraint,  other 
than  that  this  full  clofe  be  at  the  end  of  a  line  ;  and  this 
reftraint  is  necefTary  in  order  to  pteierve  a  coincidence 
between  fenfe  and  lound,  which  ought  to  be  aimed  at  in 
general,  and  is  indiipenfable  in  the  cafe  of  a  full  clofe, 
hecaufe  it  has  a  ftriking  etfefl.  Hence  the  aptitude  of 
blank  xerfe  for  inverfion :  and  conlequentiy  the  lu^'^re 
of  its  paufes  and  accents;  for  which,  as  obferved  a- 
bove,  the-re  is  greater  fcope  in  inverfion,  than  when 
words  run  in  their  natural  order. 

In  the  fecond  fedion  of  this  chapter  it  is  fliown,  that 
nothing  contributes  more  than  inverlion  to  the  force  and 
elevation  of  language  :  the  couplets  of  rhyme  confine 
inverfion  within  narrow  limits ;  nor  would  the  elevation 
of  inverfion,  were  there  acctfs  for  it  in  ihynie,  readily 
accord  with  the  humbler  tone  of  that  fort  of  vejfe.  It 
is  univerfally  agreed,  that  the  loftinels  of  iMilton's  ftyle 
fupports  admirably  the  fublimity  of  his  fubjed;  and  it 
is  not  lefs  certain,  that  the  loftinefs  of  his  ftyle  aiifes 
chiefty  frcm  inverfion.  Shakefpear  deals  little  in  inver- 
fion :  but  his  blank  verfe,  being  a  fort  of  rneafured 
profe,  is  pprfeftly  well  adapteii  to  the  ftage,  where  la- 
boured inverfion  is  extremely  improper,  bccaufe  in  dia- 
logue it  never  can  be  natural. 

Hitherto  I  have  confidered  that  fuperior  power  of  ex-^ 
preilion  which  verfe  acquires  by  laying  afide  ihymc.  But 
this  is  not  the  only  ground  for  preferring  blank  verfe:  it 
has  another  preferable  quality  not  lefs  fignal ;  and  that 
is,  a  more  extenfive  and  more  complete  melody.  Its 
niufic  is  not,  like  that  of  ihyme,  confined  to  a  fingle 
couplet,  but  takes  in  a  great  compals,  fo  as  in  fome 
meafure  to  rival  mufic  properly  fo  called.  The  inter- 
val between  its  cadences  may  be  long  or  iLort  at  plea- 
sure;  and,  by  that  means,  its  melody,  with  refpefl  both 
to  richnefs  and  variety,  is  fuperior  far  to  that  of  rhyme; 
and  fuperior  even  to  that  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  Hex- 
ameter. Of  this  obfervation  no  perfon  can  doubt  who 
is  acquainted  with  ihe  Par  a  J  ife  lojl :  in  which  work 
there  are  indeed  many  carelefs  lines ;  but  at  every  turn 
it  ihines  out  in  the  richeft  melody  as  well  as  in  the  fub- 
liineft  fentiments.     Take  the  following  fpecimen. 

Now 


\ 


Seft.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language."  105 

Now  Morn  her  rofy  fteps  in  th'  eaftern  clime 
Advancing,  fovv'd  the  earth  with  orient  pearl  ; 
When  Adam  wak'd,  fo  cuftom'd,  for  his  lleep 
Was  aery  light  from  pure  digeftion  bred. 
And  teinp'rate  vapours  bland,  which  th'  only  found 
Of  leaves  and  fuming  rills,  Aurora's  fan, 
Lightly  difpers'J,  and  the  ihrill  matin  fong 
Of  birds  on  every  bough  ;•  fo  much  the  more 
His  wonder  was  to  find  unwaken'd  Eve 
With  treffes  difcompos'd,  and  glowing  cheek, 
As  through  unquiet  reft:   he  on  his  fide 
Leaning  half-rais'd,  with  looks  of  cordial  love 
Hung  over  her  enamour'd,  and  beheld 
Beauty,  v/hich,  whether  waking  or  afleepj 
Shot  forth  peculiar  graces;  then  with  voice 
Mild,  as  when  Zcphyrus  on  Flora  breathes, 
Her  hand  fofr  touching,  whifper'd  thus.     Awake, 
My  fflirell:,  iny  efpous'd,  my  lateft  found, 
Heaven's  lafr  bell  gift,  my  ever- new  delighf. 
Awake  ;  the  morning  fhines,  and  the  frem  field 
Calls  us  5  we  lofe  the  piime,  to  mark  how  spring 
Our  teiidtd  plants,  how  blows  the  citron  grove. 
What  drops  the  myrrh,  and  what  the  balmy  reed, 
How  naiuie  paints  her  colours,  how  the  bee 
Sits  on  the  blooui  extrctting  liquid  fweet. 

Book  5.  /.  I, 

Comparing  Latin  Hexameter  with  Englifh  Heroic 
rhyme,  the  termer  has  obvioufly  the  advantage  in  the 
following  particulars.  It  is  greatly  preferable  as  to  ar- 
rangement, by  the  latitude  it  admits  in  placing  the  long 
and  fhort  fyllabtes.  Secondly,  the  length  of  an  Hexa- 
meter line  hath  a  majefiic  air:  ours,  by  its  fhortnefs  is 
indeed  moie  brifk  and  lively,  but  much  lefs  fitted  for 
the  fublime.  And,  thirdly,  the  long  high-founding 
words  that  Hexameter  admits,  add  greatly  to  its  ma- 
jelty.  To  compenfate  thefe  advantages,  Englilli  rhyme 
poffefles  a  greater  number  and  greater  variety  both  of 
paufes  and  of  accents.  Thefe  two  forts  of  verfe  ftand 
indeed  pretty  much  in  oppofition  :  in  Hexameter,  great 
vaiiety  ot  ariangement,  none  in  the  paufes  nor  accents: 
in  Englifli  rhyme,  great  variety  in  the  paufes  and  ac- 
cents, very  little  in  the  arrangement. 

E  4  la 


io6  Beauty  of  Language.     Ch  XVIII. 

fn  blank  verfe  are  united,  in  a  good  meafure,  the 
fcveral  properties  of  Latin  Hexameter  and  EngHfli 
rhyme  -,  and  it  pofTefTes  befide  many  fignal  properties  of 
icSvpwn.  It  is  not  confined,  like  Hexainerer,  by  a  full 
clofe  at  the  end  of  every  line  j  nor,  like  rhyme,  by  a 
full  dole  at  the  end  of  every  couplet.  Its  conflrudion, 
which  admits  the  lines  to  lun  into  each  other,  gives  it  a 
ftill  greater  majefty  than  arifes  from  the  length  of  a 
Hexameter  line.  Hy  the  fame  means,  it  admits  inverfi- 
on  even  beyond  the  Latin  or  Greek  Hexameter;  for  thefe 
futfer  fome  confinement  by  the  regular  clofes  at  the  end 
of  C'eiy  line.  In  its  niufic  it  is  illuftrious,  above  all  ; 
the  melody  of  Hexameter  verfe,  is  circumfcribed  to  a 
line  ;  and  of  Er.gliih  rhyme,  to  a  couplet :  the  melody 
of  blank  verfe  is  under  no  confinement,  but  enjoys  the 
utmaft;  privilege  that  the  melody  of  veife  is  fufceptible 
of  J  Mfhich  is,  to  run  hand  in  hand  with  the  fenk.  In 
a  word,  blank  verfe  is  fupcrior  to  Hexameter  in  many 
articles  ;  and  inferior  to  it  in  none,  fave  in  the  latitude 
of  arrangement,  and  in  the  ufe  of  long  words. 

In  French  Heroic  verfe,  there  are  found,  on  the  con- 
trary, all  the  defedls  of  Latin  Hexameter  and  Englilh 
rhyme,  without  the  beauties  of  either;  lubje£led  to  the 
bondage  of  rhyme,  and  to  the  full  clofe  at  the  end  of 
every  couplet,  it  is  alfo  extremely  fatiguing  by  unifor- 
mity in  its  paufes  and  a,ccents:  the  line  invariably  is 
divided' by  the  paufe  into  two  equal  parts,  and  the  ac- 
cent is  invariably  placed  before  the  paufe  : 

feune  et  vaillant  heros  ||  dont  la  haute  fagefTe 
N'ett  point  la  fruit  tardif  ||  d'une  lente  vicilleife. 
Here  every  circumftance  contributes  to  a  tirefon:e  uni- 
formity: a  conllant  return  of  the  fame  paule  and  of  the 
fame  accent,  as  well  as  an  equal  divifion  of  every  line  j 
which  fatigue  the  ear  without  intermillion  or  change. 
1  cannot  fet  this  matter  in  a  better  light,  than  by  pre- 
fenting  to  the  reader  a  French  tranflation  of  the  follow- 
ing paif-ige  of  iVIilton  : 

Two  of  far  nobler  fhape,  ereiSt  and  tall, 
Godlike  erect,  with  native  honour  clad, 
In  naked  majefi:y,  feem'd  lords  of  all  ; 
And  wortliy  feem'd,  for  in  their  looks  divine 

The! 


Se6l.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  107 

The  image  of  their  glorious  Maker  flione, 
Truth,  wifdom,  fanditude  fevere  and  pure. 
Severe,  but  in  true  filial  freedom  plac'd  j 
Whence  true  authority  in  men  ;  though  both 
Not  equal,  as  their  fex  not  equal  feem'd ; 
For  contemplation  he  and  valour  forra'd, 
For  foftnefs  flie  and  fvveet  attradlive  grace, 
He  for  GoJ  only,  fhe  for  God  in  him. 

Were  the  paufes  of  the  (enCe  and  found  in  this  pafTage 
but  a  liitle  better  afforted,  nothing  in  verle  could  be 
mor:  melodious.  In  general,  the  great  defeft  of  Mil- 
tons  veifificatioh,  in  other  refpefts  admirable,  is  the 
want  of  coincidence  between  the  paufea  of .  the  fenfe 
end  found. 

Thc'tranflation  is  in  the  following  v/ords  : 
Ce  lieux  de'iicieux,  ce  paradis  charmant, 
Recoit  deux  objets  fon  plus  bel  ornement; 
Leur  port  ir.ajetieux,  et  leur  demarche  altiere,. 
Semble  leur  meriter  fur  la  nature  entiere 
Ce  droit  de  commander  que  Dieu  leur  a  donnc- 
Sur  leur  augufte  front  de  gloire  couronne, 
Du  fouverain  du  ciel  diille  la  refemblance ; 
Dans  leur  fimples  regards  eclatte  Finnocence, 
L'adorable  candeur,  I'aimable  verite, 
La  raifon,  la  fagelfe,  et  la  severire, 
<!^'  adoucit  la  prudence,  et  cet  air  de  droiture 
Du  vifage  des  rois  refpedlabte  parure. 
Ces  deux  oljjets  divins  n'ont  pas  les  memes  traits, 
lis  paroilfent  forn;es,   quoique  tous  deux  parfaits ^       / 
L'un  pour  la  majefie.  la  force,  et  la  nobklfe  j 
L'autre  pour  la  douceur,  la  grace,  et  la  tendrefTe; 
Celui  ci  pour  Dieu  feul,   Pautre  pour  1  homme  encor. 

Here  the  fenfe  is  fairly  tranflated,  the  words  are  of  e- 
qual  power,  and  yet  how  inferior  the  melody! 

Many  attempts  have  been  made  to  introduce  Hexa- 
meter verfe  into  the  living  languages,  but  without  fuc- 
cefs.  The  Englilh  language,  I  am  inclined,  to  think,  is 
not  fufceptible  of  this  melody:  and  my  reafons  are  thefe. 
Firft,  the  polyfyllables  in  Latin  and  Greek  are  finely  di- 
verfified  by  long  and  Ihort  fyliables,  a  circumftance  that 
qualifies  them  for  the  melody  of  Hexameter  verfe  :  ours 
£  5  are 


loS-  Beauty  OF  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

are  extremely  ill  qualified  for  that  fervice,  becaufe  they 
fuperabound  in  Ihoit  fyllables.  Secondly,  the  bulk  of 
our  nionofyllables  are  arbitiary  with  regard  to  length, 
which  is  an  unlucky  circuinftance  in  Hexameter:  for 
though  ciiftom,  as  obferved  above,  may  render  familiar 
a  long  or  a  (hort  pronunciation  of  the  fame  wo:d,  yet 
the  mind  wavering  between  the  two  founds,  cannot  be 
fo  much  flffetSted  with  either,  as  with  a  word  that  hath 
always  the  fame  found  }  and  tor  that  reafon,  arbitrary 
ibunds  are  ill  fitted  for  a  melody  which  is  chiefly  fup- 
ported  by  quantity  :  in  Latin  and  Greek  Hexameter,  in- 
variable founds  direQ  and  afcertain  the  melody  :  Englifh 
Hexameter  would  be  deflitute  of  melody,  unlefs  by  art- 
ful pronunciation  ;  becaufe  of  necefllty  the  bulk  of  its 
ibunds  muft  be  arbitrary.  The  pronunciation  is  eafy  in 
a  frraple  movement  of  alternate  long  and  ftiort  fyllables  j 
but  would  be  perplexing  and  unpleafant  in  the  diverfified 
movement  of  Hexanreter  verfe. 

Rhyme  makes  fo  great  a  figure  in  modern  poetry,  as 
to  deferve  a  foleiiin  tiial.  I  have  ^or  that  reafon  referv- 
ed  it  to  be  examined  with  deliberation  ;  in  order  to  dif- 
cover,  if  I  can,  its  peculiar  beauties,  and  the  degree  of 
iiierit  it  is  intitled  to.  The  firil  view  of  this  fubjeft 
leads  naturally  to  the  following  reflettion  ;  "  That 
*'  rhyme  having  no  relation  to  fentiment,  nor  any  efFecl 
•'  upon  the  ear  other  than  a  mere  jingle,  ought  to  be 
**  banifhed  all  compofitions  of  any  dignity,  as  affording 
*'  but  a  trifling  and  childifh  pleafure."  It  will  alio  be 
obferved,  "  That  a  jingle  of  words  hath  in  fome  mea- 
'*  fure  a  ludicrous  effeft,  witnefs  the  double  rhymes  of 
"  Hudibrns,vjh.\Q\\  contribute  no  fmall  fhare  to  its  drol- 
**  lery;  that  in  a  fcrious  work  this  ludicrous  eifeft  would 
"  be  equally  remarkable,  were  it  not  oblcured  by  the 
"  prevailing  gravity  of  the  fubjeft  ;  that  having  howe- 
"  ever  a  conllant  tendency  to  give  a  ludicrous  air  t» 
♦'  the  compofition,  more  than  ordinary  fire  is  requifice 
•'  to  fupport  the  dignity  of  the  fentiments  againtl  fuch 
♦v  an  undermining  antagoniil  *. 

Thefe 

*  Voffius,  de  poematum  cantu,  p.  26.  fays,  "  Nihil 
**  aeque  gravitati  orationis  olficit,  quaiu  in  fono  ludere 
^  fyllabarum." 


Se£t. IV,         Beauty  of  LArs'cuAGE.  109 

Thefe  arguments  are  fpecious,  and  have  undoubted- 
ly fome  weight.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  ought  to 
be  confidereJ,  that  in  modern  tongues  rhyme  has  be- 
come univerfal  among  men  as  well  as  children  ;  and  that 
it  cannot  have  fuch  a  currency  without  fome  foundation 
in  human  nature.  In  h&,  it  has  been  fuccefsfuily  em- 
ploy'd  by  poets  of  genius,  in  their  ferious  and  grave 
compofitions,  as  well  as  in  thofe  which  are  more  light 
and  airy.  Here,  in  weighing  authority  againft  argument, 
the  fcales  feeni  to  be  upon  a  level  ;  and  theiefore,  to 
come  at  any  thing  decifive,  we  muft  pierce  a  little  deeper. 

Mufic  has  great  power  over  the  foul ;  and  may  fuc- 
cefsfuily be  employ 'd  to  inflame  or  fjoth  pailions,  if  not 
aduaily  to  raife  them.  A  fingle  found,  however  fweet, 
is  not  mufic  ;  but  a  fingle  found  repeated  after  intervals, 
may  have  the  effeft  to  roufs  attention,  and  to  keep  the 
hearer  awake  :  and  a  variety  of  fimilar  founds,  fucceed- 
ing.  each  other  after  regular  intervals,  mull:  have  a  ftill 
ftronger  effe(fi.  This  confideration  is  applicable  to 
rhyme,  which  connedts  two  verfelineo  by  making  them 
clofe  with  two  words  fimilar  in  found.  And  confidering 
attentively  the  mufical  cifect  of  a  couplet,  we  find,  that 
it  roufes  the  mind,  and  produceth  an  emotion  moderate- 
ly gay  without  dignity  or  elevation  :  like  the  murmur- 
ing of  a  brook  gliding  through  pebbles,  it  calms  the 
mind  when  perturbed,  ard  gently  railes  it  when  funk, 
Thefe  effetls  are  fcarce  perceived  when  the  whole  poem 
is  in  rhyme  j  but  are  extremely  remarkable  by  contrail, 
in  the  couplets  that  clofe  the  feveral  afts  of  our  later 
tragedies:  the  tone  of  the  mind  is  fenfibly  varied  by 
them,  from  anguiih,  diilreis,  or  melancholy,  to  fome. 
degree  of  eafe  and  alacrity.  For  the  truth  of  this  ob- 
fervation,  I  appeal  to  the  fpeech  of  Jane  Shore  in  the 
fourth  a£t,  when  lier  doom  was  pronounced  by  Glo'ller ; 
to  the  fpeech  of  Lady  Jane  Gray  at  the  end  of  the  firft 
a<Sl ;  and  to  that  of  Califta,  in  the  Fair  Penitent,  when 
fhe  leaves  the  liage,  about  the  middle  of  the  thi^d  a6t. 
The  fpeech  of  Alicia,  at  the  clofe  of  the  fourth  aft  of 
Jane  Shore,  puts  the  matter  beyond  doubt:  in  a  fcene 
of  deep  diilrefs,  the  rliymes  whi:h  finilh  the  a6t,  pro- 
duce a  certain  gaiety  and  chenrtulnets,  far  from  accord" 
ing  with  the  tone  of  the  paliion  ;      •  ^ 


110  Beauty  01'  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

Alicia.  For  ever  ?  0!i !  For  ever  ! 
Oh!  who  can  bear  to  be  a  wretch  for  ever! 
My  rival  too!   his  laH:  thoughts  hung  on  her; 
And,  as  he  parted,  left  a  bleffir.g  for  her. 
Shall  fhe  be  blefsd,  and  I  be  curs'd,  for  ever! 
No }  fince  her  fatal  beauty  was  the  caufe 
Of  all  ni)'  fiifTrings,   let  her  fhare  my  pains ; 
Let  her,  like  me,  of  ev'ry  joy  forlorn. 
Devote  the  hour  when  fuch  a  wretch  was  born: 
Like  me  to  deferts  and  to  darknefs  run, 
Abhor  the  day,  and  curfe  the  golden  fun; 
Caft  ev'ry  good  and  ev'ry  hope  behind  ; 
Deteft  the  works  of  nature,  loathe  mankind  : 
Like  me  with  cries  diilra£ted  fill  the  air,  "^ 

Tear  her  poor  bofoui,  rend  her  frantic  hair,  > 

And  prove  the  torments  of  the  laft  defpair.  j 

Having  defcribed,  the  bell  way  I  can,  the  imprelHon 
that  rhyme  makes  on  the  mind  ;  I  proceed  to  examine 
whether  there  be  any  fubjedls  to  which  rhyme  is  pecu- 
liarly adapted,  and  for  what  fubjefts  it  is  improper. 
Grand  and  lofty  fubjedts,  which  have  a  powerful  influ- 
ence, claim  precedence  in  this  inqoiiy.  In  the  chapter 
of  grandeur  and  fublimity  it  is  eliabliflied,  that  a  grand 
or  fublime  obje£t,  infpires  a  warm  enthufiaflic  emotion 
difdaining  ftriCt  legularity  and  order;  which  emotion  is 
very  different  in  irs  tone  from  that  infpired  by  the  mo- 
derately enli\ei:!ing  mufic  of  rhyme.  Suppofmg  then 
sn  elevated  fuhjedl:  to  be  exprefTed  in  rhyme,  what  mult 
be  the  eifed  ?  The  intlniaie  union  of  the  mufic  with 
the  fubjefl,  produces  an  intimate  union  of  their  emoti- 
ons ;  one  infpired  by  the  fubjeQ,  which  tends  to  elevate 
and  expand  the  mind;  and  one  infpiied  by  the  mufic, 
which,  confining  the  mind  within  the  narrow  limits  of 
Tegular  cadency,  and  fimilar  found,  tends  to  prevent  all 
elevation  above  its  own  pitch.  Emotions  (o  little  con- 
cordant, cannot  in  union  have  a  happy  efFedt 

But  it  is  fcarce  necelTary  to  reafon  upon  a  cafe  that 
never  did,  and  probably  never  will  happen,  fviz.  an  im- 
portant fubjedt  clothed  in  rhyme,  and  yet  fupported  in 
its  utmoll  elevation.  A  happy  thought  or  warm  ex- 
prefTion,  may  at  times  give  a  fudden  bound  upward; 
i)Ut  it  requires  a  genius  greater  than  has  hitherto  exift- 

ed, 


Se£t.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  in 

ed,  to  fupport  a  poem  of  any  length  in  a  tone  elevated 
much  above  that  of  the  n.elot^.y  :  Taffo  and  Arioflo 
ought  not  to  be  made  exccpiioiis,  and  fiill  lefs  Voltaire. 
And  after  all,  where  the  poet  has  the  dead  weight  of 
rhyme  conflar.tly  to  Ilruggle  with,  how  can  we  expeQ 
an  uniform  elevation  in  a  high  pitch  ;  when  fuch  ele- 
vation, with  all  the  fupport  it  can  receive  from  languagCj 
requires  the  utmoil  e&on  of  the  human  genius? 

But  now,  admitticg  rhyme  to  be  an  unfit  drefs  for 
grand  and  lofty  images;  it  has  one  advantage  however, 
which  is,  to  raife  a  !i>w  fubjcct  to  its  own  debtee  of  e- 
levation.  Addifon  *  obferves,  «'  That  rhyme,  without 
"  any  other  afiiftance,  throws  the  language  off  from 
*'  profe,  and  very  often  makes  an  indifferent  phrafe  pafs 
"  unregarded;  but  where  the  verfe  is  not  built  upon 
"  rhymes,  there,  pomp  of  found  and  energy  of  expref- 
*'  fion  are  indilpenfabiy  neceffary,  to  fupport  the  ftyle, 
«<  and  keep  it  from  falling  into  the  flatn'efs  of  profe." 
This  effcft  of  rhyme  is  remarkable  in  the  Fiench  verfe, 
vhich,  being  funple.,  and  in  a  good  meafure  unqualifi- 
ed for  inverfion,  readily  finks  down  to  profe  where  not 
artificially  fupported:  rhyme  is  therefore  indi.'penlable 
in  the  Fiench  tragedy,  and  may  be  proper  even  in  their 
comedy.  Voltaire  f  afiigns  that  very  reafon  for  adhe- 
ring to  rhyme  in  thefe  compofiiions.  He  indeed  can- 
didly owns,  that,  even  with  the  fupport  of  rhyme,  the 
tragedies  of  his  country  are  little  better  than  converfa- 
tion  pieces ;  which  lliows,  that  the  French  language  is 
wtak,  and  an  improper  diefs  for  any  grand  lubjeft. 
Voltaire  was  fenfible  of  this  imperfedion  ;  and  yet  Vol- 
taire attempted  an  epic  poem  in  that  language. 

The  cheating  and  enlivening  power  of  rhyme,  is  ftill 
more  remarkable  in  poems  of  fhort  lines,  where  the 
rhyuies  return  upon  the  ear  in  a  quick  fiiccefiion  ;  a.'id 
for  that  reafon,  rhyme  is  peifedly  well  adapted  to  gay, 
light,  and  airy  fubjetts ;  witnefs  the  following. 
O  the  pleifing,  pleafing  angui/h. 
When  we  love,  and  when  we  languifii ! 

Wiffies 

*  Speaator,  N°  285. 
t  Preface  to  his  OEdipusy  and  in  his  difcourfe  upon 
tragedy,  prefixed  to  the  tragedy  of  Brutus. 


112  Bea-UTY  OF  Language.     Ch.XVIII. 

Wiflies  rifing. 
Thoughts  furprifing, 
Pleafure  courtirig, 
Charms  tranfporting, 
p'ancy  viewing, 
Joys  enfuing, 
O  the  pleafing,  pleafing  anguift  ! 

Rofamond,  afl.  \.  fc.  2. 

For  that  reafon,  fuch  frequent  rhymes  are  very  impro-  ij 
per  for  any  fevere  or  ferious  paiFnn  :   the  diflonance  be-    . 
tween  the  fubjeft  and  the  melody,  is  very  fenfibly  lelt : 
.wir-nel's  the  following. 

Ardito  ti  renda, 
T'accenda 
Di  fdegno 
__         D'un  figlio 
11  pcriglio 
D'un  regno 
L'amor. 
E'dolce  ad  un'alnia 
Che  afpetta 
Vendetta 
11  perder  la  cahiia 
Fra  I'iie  del  cor. 
Metajlafto.     Artaferfe,  ad  3.  fc.  j  , 
Again  : 

Now  under  hanging  mountains, 
Befide  the  fail  of  fountains, 
O--  where  Hebrus  wanders. 
Rolling  in  msanders, 
All  alone, 

Unheard,  unknown, 
He  makes  his  mo^n, 
And  calls  her  ghod. 
For  ever,  ever,  ever  loit  ; 
Now  with  furies  furrounded, 
Defpairing,  c^rfounded, 
He  trembles,  he  glows, 
Amidlt  Rhodope's  fnows. 

Pope,  Ode  fn  Muftc,  /.  97. 

Rhyme  is  not  kfs  unfit  for  anguilh  or  deep  diftrefs. 


Se6t.1V.         Beauty  OP  Language.  113 

than  for  fubjedls  elevated  and  lofty  ;  and  for  that  reafon 
has  been  long  dilufed  in  the  Engliih  and  Italian  tragedy. 
In  a  work  where  the  fubjedl  isferious  though  not  eleva- 
ted, rhyme  has  not  a  good  eifecl ;  becaule  the  airinefs 
of  the  meiod)?  agrees  not  wiih  the  gravity  of  the  fiib- 
jedt :  the  Ejjay  on  Man,  which  treats  a  funjefl  great  and 
important,  would  (how  much  better  in  blank  verfe.  Spor- 
tive love,  mirth,  g.iietv,  humour,  and  ridicule,  are  the 
profhice  of  rhyme.  The  boundaries  affigned  it  by  na- 
ture, were  extended  in  ba: barous  and  illiterate  ages,  and 
in  its  ufurpatians  it  has  long  been  protefled  by  cuftom  : 
but  tafte  in  the  fine  arts,  as  well  as  in  morals,  improves 
daily  ;  and  makes  a  progrefs  toward  perfedion,  flow  in- 
deed but  uniform  ;  and  there  is  no  reafon  to  doubt,  thac 
rhyme,  in  Britain,  will  in  time  be  forc'd  to  abandon  its 
iinjuil;  conquells,  and  to  confine  icfelf  within  its  natuia! 
Ilmils. 

Having  throv/n  out  what  occurred  upon  rhyme,  I 
clofe  the  fedtion  with  a  general  obfervatiorr,  That  the 
melody  of  verfe  fo  powerfully  inchants  the  mind,  as  to 
draw  a  veil  over  very  grofs  faults  and  imperfeiftions.  Of 
this  power  a  ftrcnger  example  cannot  be  given  than  the 
epifode  of  Ariflseus,  which  clofes  the  iourth  book  of 
the  Qeorgics.  To  renew  a  ftock  of  bees  when  the  for- 
mer is  loll,  Virgil  afferts,  that  they  will  be  produced  in 
the  intrails  of  a  bullock,  flain  and  managed  in  a  certain 
manner.  This  leads  him  to  fay,  how  this  flrange  receipt 
was  invented  j  which  is  as  follows.  Ariilseus  having 
loft  his  bees  by  difeafe  and  famine,  never  dreams  of  em- 
ploying the  ordinary  means  for  obtaining  a  new  ftock  j 
but,  like  a  froward  child,  complains  heavily  to  his  mo- 
ther Cyrene,  a  water-nymph..  She  advifes  him  to  con- 
fult  Proteus,  a  fea-god,  not  how  he  was  to  obtain  a  nevy 
ftock,  but  only  by  what  fatality  he  had  loft  his  former 
ftock  ;  adding,  that  violence  was  neceffary,  becaufe 
I'roteus  would  fay  nothing  voluntarily.  Arirtseus,  fa- 
tisfied  with  this  advice,  though  it  gave  him  no  profpeft 
of  repairing  his  lofs,  proceeds  to  execution.  Proteus  is 
catched  fleeping,  bound  with  cords,  and  compelled  to 
fpeak.  He  declares,  that  Ariftsus  was  punilhed  with 
the  lofs  of  his  bees,  for  attempting  the  chaftity  of  Eu» 
lidice,  the  wife  of  Orpheus;  (he  having  been  ftung  to 

death 


114  Beauty  o?  Language.     Ch.  XVIII. 

death  by  a  ferpent  in  flying  his  embraces.  Proteus, 
uhofe  fullennefs  ought  to  have  been  conveited  into 
wrath  by  the  rough  treatment  he  met  vvitii,  becomes 
on  a  fudden  courteous  and  commun'cative.  He  gives 
the  whole  hillory  of  the  expedition  to  hell  which  Or- 
pheus undertook  in  order  to  recover  his  ipoufe  j  a  very 
entertaining  ftory,  but  without  the  leaft  relation  to  the 
the  affair  on  hand.  Ariftseus,  returni.ig  to  his  mother, 
IS  advifed  to  deprecate  by  facrihces  the  wrath  of  Or- 
pheus, who  was  now  dead.  A  bullock  is  facrificed, 
snd  out  of  the  intiails  fpring  niiraculoufly  a  fwarm  of 
bees.  Does  it  follow,  that  the  fame  may  be  obtained 
without  a  miracle,  as  is  fuppofed  in  the  receipt  ? 

A  lijl  of  the  different   FEET,  and  of  their  N/IMES. 

1.  Pyrrhicki  LTS,  confifts  of  two  fliort  fyllables.  Ex- 
amples :   Deus,  gi'ven,  cannot,  hillock,  running. 

2.  Spondeus,  confiils  of  two  long  fyllables :  otnnes, 
{'offefs,  forenjuarn,  mankind,  fometime. 

3.  Iambus,  compofed  of  a  Ihort  and  a  long  :  pios,  in- 
tent, degree,  appear,  confent,  repent,  dem.ind,  re- 
port,  fufped,  affront,  event. 

4.  Troch.^us,  or  Choreus,  a  long  and  a  fhort  • 
fer<vat,  tuherely,  after^  legal,  meafure,  burden,  holy, 
'lofty. 

5.  Tribrachys,  three  fliort  :   vielius,  property. 

6.  MoLOssus,  three  long  :   deletlant. 

7.  Anap.i,stus,  two  fhort  and  a  long:  animos,  con' 
defcend,  apprehend,  overheard,  acquiefce,  itn?nature, 
overcharge,  ferenade,   opportune. 

8.  Dactylus,  a  long  and  two  fliort:  carmina,  evi- 
dent, excellence,  ejiimate,  voonderful,  altitude,  bur- 
dened, minijler,  tenement. 

9.  Bacchius,  a  fliort  and  two  long:  dolores. 

10.  Hypobacchius,  or   Antibacchi  us,    two  long 
and  a  fliort  :  pelluntur. 

1 1.  Creticus,  or  Amphimacer,  a  fliort  fyllable  be- 
tween tv/o  long  :  infeto,  afternoon. 

12.  Amphibrachys,    a    long   fyllable    between    two 
Ciort :   honor?,  confid^r,  imprudent,  procedure,  ot- 

tindedy 


Se6l.  IV.         Beauty  OF  Language.  115 

tendedy  propofed^  refpondent,  concurrence)  apprentice^ 

refpedi'ue,  re'venue 
13.  Proceleusmaticos,  four  fliort  fyllables  :  homi- 

nibuSy   necejjary. 
14    DispONDCUs,  four  long  fyllables  :   infinitus. 

15.  DiiAMBUs,  compofed  of  two  Iambi  :   [e^jeritns. 

16.  DiTROCH.'Eus,  of  two  Trochsei  :  permanere,  pro- 
curator.  ' 

\-j.  loMcus,  two  iLort  fjllables  and  two  long:  pro- 

perahnnt . 
iS.  Another  foot  pafTes  under  the  fame  name,  compo- 

fed  of  two  long  fyi tables  and  two  fliort :  calcaribusy 

popjjory. 
19.  Choriambus,    two   fliort   fyllables   between    two 

long  :   n'jbilitas. 
20    Antispastus,   two  long   fyllables  between   two 

fiioit  :  Alexander. 

21.  P.EON  I  ft,  one  long  fyllable  and  three  iTiort :  tenf 
poribus,  ordinary,  inventory,  temperament, 

22.  P.t;on  2d,  the  fecond  fj'Ilable  long,  and  the  other 
three  fliort  :  rapidity,  folemnity,  minority,  confider- 
eJ,  imprudently,  extravagant^  refpedfuUy,  accord- 
i"gb- 

23.  P.tON  3d,  the  thiid  fyllable  long  and  the  other 
three  fliort :   animatus,  independent,  condefcendence^ 

facerdital,  reimbwfement,   manufaiiure. 

24.  P.EON  4th,  the  iall;  fyllable  long  and  the  other 
three  flioit  :  celeritas. 

25.  Epitritus  lit,  the  firft  fvllable  fliort  and  the  o- 
ther  three  long  :   voluptates. 

26.  Epitritus  2d,  the  fecond  fyllable  fl^iort  and  the 
other  three  long:  pcenitentes. 

27.  Epitritus  3d,  the  third  fyllable  fliort  and  the  o- 
ther  three  long  :  difcordias. 

28.  Epitritus  4th,  the  lad  fyllable  fliort  and  the  0- 
ther  three  long;  fortunatus. 

29.  A  word  of  five  fyllables  compofed  of  a  Pyrrhichius 
and  Dadtyius  :   minijlerial. 

30.  A  word  of  five  fyllables  compofed  of  a  Trochseus 
aiid  DaQylus  ;  Jingularity, 

31.  A  word 


ii6  Comparisons,  Ch.  XIX. 

31.  A  word  of  five  Tyllables  compofed  of  a  Daftylus 
and  Trocbaeus  :  precipitation,   examination. 

32.  A  word   of    five   fyllables,  the   fecond   only  long  : 
fignijicaricy. 

^■^.  A  word  of  fix  fyllables  compofed  of  two  Daftyles : 

impel  uofzty. 
34.  A  word  of  fix  fyllables  compofed  of  a  Tribrachys 

and  Dadyle  :  pufillanimity. 

N.  B.  Every  word  may  be  confidered  as  a  profe  foot, 
becaufe  every  word  is  diftinguillied  by  a  paule  ;  and  e- 
very  foot  in  verfe  may  be  confidered  as  a  verie  word, 
compofed  of  fyllables  pronounced  at  once  without  a 
paufe. 

CHAP.       XIX. 
Comparisons. 

COMPARISONS,  as  obferved  above  *,  ferve  two 
purpofes  :  when  addrelfed  to  the  underfianding, 
their  purpofe  is  to  inflrudt ;  when  to  the  heart,  their 
purpole  is  to  pleafe.  Vaiious  means  contribute  to  the 
latter  :  firll,  the  fup^gcfling  feme  unufual  refemblance  or 
contraR"  ;  fecond,  the  fetiing  an  objcft  in  the  ftrongeft 
light;  third,  the  affociating  an  objetl  with  others  that 
are  agreeable;  fourth,  the  elevating  an  objeft  ;  and, 
fifth,  the  depreffipg  it.  And  that  comparifons  may  give 
pleafure  by  thefe  various  means,  appears  from  what  is 
faid  in  the  chapter  above  cited  ;  and  will  be  made  ftill 
more  evident  by  examples,  which  /hall  be  given  after 
premifing  foiiie  general  obieivations. 

Objects  of  dilierent  fenfes  cannot  be  compared  toge- 
ther ;  for  fuch  objects  are  totally  feparated  from  each 
other,  and  have  no  circumftance  In  common  to  admit 
either  refemblance  or  contraft.  Objects  of  hearing  may 
be  compared  together,  as  alfo  of  talle,  of  fmell,  and  of 
touch  :  but  the  chief  tund  of  comparifon  are  objects 
of  fight ;  becaufe,  in  wriring  or  ipeaking,  things  can 
only  be  compared  in  idea,  and  the  ideas  of  fight  are 
r.iore  diflinct  i.nd  lively  than  thofc  of  any  other  fenfe. 

When 

*  Chap.  8. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparisons.'  117 

When  a  nation  emerging  out  of  barbarity  begins  to 
think  of  the  fine  arts,  the  beauties  of  language  cannot 
long  lie  concealed  ;  and  when  dlfcovered,  they  are  ge- 
neially,  by  the  force  of  novelty,  carried  beyond  all 
bounds  of  moderation.  Thus,  in  the  early  poems  of 
every  nation,  we  find  metaphors  and  fimiles  founded  on 
flight  and  dirtant  refemblances,  which,  lofing  their  grace 
with  their  novelty,  wear  gradually  out  of  repute;  and 
now,  by  the  improvement  of  tall:e,  no  metaphor  nor 
fimilc  is  admitted  into  any  polite  compofition  but  of  the 
inoft  ftriking  kind.  ^To  illuftrate  this  obfervation,  a 
fpecimen  ihall  be  given  afterward  of  fuch  metaphors  as 
I  have  been  defciibing:  with  refpect  to  funiies  take  the 
following  fpecimen. 

Behold,  tliou  art  fair,  my  love  :  thy  hair  is  as  a  flock 
of  goats  that  appear  from  Mount  Gilead  :  thy  teeth  are 
like  a  flock  of  iheep  from  the  walliing,  every  one  bear- 
ing twins  :  thy  lips  are  like  a  thread  of  fcarlet :  thy  neck 
like  the  tower  of  David  built  for  an  armoury,  whereoa 
hang  a  thouland  fliields  of  mighty  men  :  thy  two  bieafts 
like  two  young  roes  that  are  twins,  which  feed  among 
the  lilies :  thy  eyes  like  the  fiOi-pools  in  Heflibon,  by 
the  gate  of  Cath-rabbiin  ;  ihy  nofe  like  the  tower  of 
Lebanon,  looking  toward  Uamafcus,      Song  of  Solomon, 

Thou  art  like  fnow  on  the  heath;  thy  hair  like  the 
mill  of  CroiP.la,  when  it  cuils  on  the  rocks  and  Ihines 
to  the  beam  of  the  well:  thy  breails  are  like  two  fmooth 
rocks  feen  from  Branno  of  the  llreains :  thy  arms  like 
two  white  pillars  in  the  hall  of  the  mighty  Fingal. 

I'ingal. 

It  has  no  good  effect  to  compare  things  by  way  of 
fimile  that  are  of  the  fame  kind;  nor  to  compare  by 
contrail:  things  of  ditfeient  kinds.  The  reafon  is  given 
in  the  chapter  cited  above  ;  and  the  realon  Ihall  be  il- 
luftrated  by  examples.  The  firtl  is  a  comparifon  built 
upon  a  refemblance  fo  obvious  as  to  make  little  or  no 
inipielfion. 

This  jufl:  rebuke  inflam'd  the  Lycian  crew, 
They  join,   they  thicken,  and  tiiaifault  renew  j 
Unmov'd  th'embody'd  Greeks  their  fury  dare, 
And  ftx'd  fupport  the  weight  of  all  the  war  5 

Ndif 


ii8  Comparison's.  Cb.  XIX. 

Nor  could  the  Greeks  repel  the  Lyclan  pow'rs. 
Nor  the  bold  Lycians  foice  the  Grecian  tow'rs. 
As  on  the  confines  ot  adjoining  grounds, 
Two  ftubborn  fwains  with  blowi  difpute  their  bounds; 
They  tugg,  they  fweat ;  but  neither  gain,  nor  yield, 
One  foot,  one  inch,  of  the  contended  field  : 
Thus  obftinate  to  death,  they  fight,  they  fall  ; 
Nor  thefe  can  keep,  nor  thofe  can  win  the  wall. 

Iliad  xii.   505. 

Another,  from  Milton,  lies  open  to  the  fame  objection. 
Speaking  of  the  fallen  angels  fearching  for  mines  of  gold : 

A  numerous  brigade  haften'd  :  as  when  bands 
Of  pioneers  with  fpade  and  pick-ax  arm'd, 
Forerun  the  royal  camp  to  trench  a  field 
Or  caft  a  rampart. 
The  next  (hall   be  of  things  contrafted   that  are  of 
different  kinds. 

^een-  What,  is  my  Richard  both  in  fhape  and  mind 
Transformed  and  weak?   Hath  Bolingbroke  depos'd 
Thine  intellect?  Hath  he  been  in  thy  heart! 
The  lion,  dying,  thruSeth  forth  his  paw, 
And  wounds  the  earth,  if  nothing  elfe,  with  rage 
To  be  o'erpower'd  :  and  wilt  thou,  pupil-like,_. 
Take  thy  corredion  mildly,   kifs  the  rod. 
And  fawn  on  rage  with  bafe  humility  ? 

Richard  W.  a5l  <^.  fc.  I. 

This  comparifon  has  fcarce  any  force  :  a  man  and  a  li- 
on are  of  dltferent  fpecies,  and  therefore  are  proper  fub- 
jedts  for  a  fimile;  but  there  is  no  fuch  refeaiblance  be- 
tween them  in  general,  as  to  produce  any  ftrong  effect 
by  contrafting  particular  attributes  or  circumftances. 

A  third  general  obfervation  is.  That  abitradt  terms 
can  never  be  the  fubjedt  of  comparifon,  otherwife  than 
by  bci  g  perfonified.  Shakefpear  compares  adverfiry  to 
a  toad,  and  (lander  to  the  bite  of  a  crocodile;  but  in 
fuch  comparifons  thefe  abftradt  teims  muft  be  imagined 
fcMfible  beings. 

To  have  a  jull:  notion  of  comparifons,  they  muft  be 
diftinguilhed  into  two  kinds;  one  common  and  familiar, 
as  w'lere  a  inan  is  compared  to  a  lion  in  courage,  or  to 
a  horfe  ia   fpt:;J ;  the  other  mjre  difta.it  and  refined, 

where 


Ch.XIX.  Comparisons.  irp 

where  two  things  that  have  in  thenifelves  no  refemblance 
or  oppofition,  are  compared  with  refpefl  to  their  effe<as« 
This  fort  oFcompariron  is  occafionally  explained  above*; 
and  for  further  explanation  take  what  follows.  There 
is  no  refemblance  between  a  flower  plot  and  a  chearful 
fong  ;  and  yet  they  may  be  conip'-rcd  with  refpedt  to 
their  effefls,  the  emotions  they  produce  in  the  mind  be- 
ing extreme'y  fimilar.  There  is  as  little  reftmblance 
between  fracernai  concord  and  precious  ointment;  and 
yet  obferve  how  iuccefsfuiiy  they  are  compared  with 
refpedt  to  the  impieffions  they  make. 

Behold,  how  good  and  how  pleafant  it  is  for  brethren 
to  dwell  together  in  unity.  It  is  like  the  precious  oint- 
ment upon  the  head,  that  ran  down  upon  Aaron's  beard, 
and  defcended  to  the  (kins  of  his  garment.      F/alm  i  3  ?. 

For  illuihating  this  fort  of  comparifon,  I  add  foine 
more  examples  : 

D^ilighvful  is  thy  prefence,  O  Fingal !  it  Is  iike  the 
fun  on  Cromla,  when  the  hunter  mourns  his  abfence  for 
a  feafon,  and  fees  him  between  the  clouds. 

Di<i  not  O.'han  hear  a  voice  ?  or  is  it  the  found  of  davs 
that  are  no  more?  Often,  like  the  evening-fun,  comes 
the  memory  of  former  times  on  my  foul. 

His  countenance  is  fettled  from  v/ar;  and  is  calm  as 
the  evening  beam,  that  frotii  the  cloud  of  the  weft  looks 
on  Cona's  filent  vrJe. 

Sorrow,  like  a  cloud  on  the  fun,  fliades  the  foul  of 
ClofTiminor. 

The  muiic  was  like  the  memory  of  joys  that  are  paft, 
pleafant  and  rnourntul  to  the  foul. 

Pieafant  are  the  words  of  the  fong,  faid  Cuchullin, 
and  love'y  are  the  tales  of  other  times.  They  are  like 
the  calm  dew  of  the  morning  on  the  hill  of  roes,  when 
the  iun  is  faint  on  its  fide,  and  the  lake  k  fettled  and 
blue   in  the  vale. 

Thefe  quotations  are  from  the  poems  of  Offian,  who 
abounds  with  comparilcas  of  this  delicate  kind,  and 
appears  fingulirlv  happy  in  rhemf.  J 

*  r.  86. 
t  The  nature  and   merii:  of  Oflian's  comparifons  is 
fnlly  iilufUared,   i,j   a  diiTtrtation  on  the  poems  of  [hat 
author,  by  Dr  Blair,  profdfor  of  rhetoric  in  the  collfr^e 
of  Edinburgh  J  a  delicious  morfel  of  criticifm.  '^ 


120  Comparisons.  Ch.  XIX, 

I  proceed  to  'hluflrate  by  parricubr  inlTances  the  dif- 
ferent means  by  which  comparirons  whether  of  the  one 
fort  or  the  other,  can  afford  pleafu^e;  and,  in  the  or- 
der above  ellablilhed,  I  beain  with  fuch  inftances  as  are 
agreeable,  by  fuggefting  foaie  unufual  leleiiiblance  or 
contraft  : 
Sweet  are  the  ufes  of  Adverfiry, 
"Which,  like  the  toad,  ugly  and  venemous, 
Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  her  head. 

As  you  like  it,  a£l  2.  jc   I. 
Gardiner.  Bolingbroke  hath  (eiz'd  die  wafteful  King. 
"What  pity  is't  tha^  he  had  not  fo  trimm'd 
And  drels'd  his  land,  as  we  this  garden  drefs, 
And  wound  the  baik,  the  (kin  of  our  fruit-trees ; 
Led,  being  over  proud  with  fap  and  blood, 
With  too  much  riches  it  confound  itielf. 
Hid  he  done  fo  to  great  and  growing  men, 
They  might  have  liv'd  to  bear,  and  he  to  tade 
Their  fruits  of  duty.     Ail  fupeifluous  branches 
We  lop  away,  that  bearing  boughs  may  live: 
Had  he  done  fo,  himfelf  had  borne  the  crown. 
Which  wafte  and  idle  hours  have  quite  thrown  down. 

Richard  II.  ad  3.  Jr.  7. 
See,  hov/  the  Morning  opes  her  golden  gates. 
And  takes  her  farewell  of  the  glorious  Sun  ; 
How  well  refembles  it  the  prime  of  youth, 
Triuim'd  like  a  yonker  prancing  to  his  love. 

Second  part,  Henry  VI.  ad  2.  Jc.  I. 

Brutus.  O  Cafllus,  you  a-e  yoked  with  a  lamb, 
That  carries  ^nger  as  the  fli.st  bears  fire  : 
Who,  much  inforced,  (hows  a  haftv  fpark. 
And  ftraight  is  cold  again.     [Julius  C^fur,  ad  4.  fc  3. 
Thus  they  their  doubtful  confultations  dark 
Endc'd,  rejoicing  in  their  matchlefs  chief: 
Aj  when  ^roai  mountain  top.^,  the  dulky  clouds 
Alcencling,  wtiile  tne  Noirh  wind  (leeps,  o'er(prcad 
Heav'n's  dieaitul  face,  the  low'ring  element 
Sc>.wl.s  o'e.  iht-  darlcen'd  landicape,  (now,  and  fliower ; 
If  chance  the  radiant  lun  with  farewell  fweet 
Extends  his  ev'ning-beaoi,  the  fields  revive, 
The  birds  their  notes  renew,  and  bleating  herds 

Atteft 


Ch.XlX.  Comparisons.  121 

Atteit  their  joy,  that  hill  and  valley  r\nz,'^. 

Panic! ije  lojly  look  2. 

As  the  blight  ftars,  and  milky  way, 

Shew'd  bv  the  night,  are  hid  by  day  : 

So  we  in  that  accompli Oi'd  mind, 

Help'd  by  the  night,  ncv  graces  find, 

Which,  by  the  iplendor  of  her  vicvv, 

Dazzled  before,  we  never  knew.  IVtiller. 

The  lall  exertion  of  courage  compared  to  the  blaze 
of  a  lamp  before  exiinguilhing,  Tajjfo  Gierufalemme, 
canto  19.  Jl  22. 

None  of  the  ^regoing  fimiles,  as  tliey  appear  to  me, 
tend  to  illuftrate  the  principal  fubjedl  :  and  therefore 
the  pleafure  they  afford  mull:  arife  from  fjggefting  re- 
femblances  that  are  nor  obvious:  1  mean  the  chief  plea- 
fure j  foV  undoubtedly  a  beautiful  fubjedt  introduced  to 
form  the  llmile  affords  a  feparate  pleafure,  whicli  is  felt 
in  the  funiles  mentioned,  particularly  in  that  cited  from 
Milton. 

The  next  effeft  of  a  eomparifon  in  the  order  menti- 
oned, is  to  place  an  objedt  in  a  (Irong  point  of  view  j 
which  effefl  is  lennikable  in  the  foilowing  fimiles. 

As  when  two  'cales  are  c'-n  a'd  v/irh  doubtful  loads, 
r.  From  fide  to  fide  the  trembling  balance  nods, 
(While  fome  laborious  mation,  juft  and  poor. 
With  nice  exaftnefs  weighs  her  woolly  ftore,) 
Till  pois'd  aloft,  the  reffing  beam  luipends 
Each  equal  weight  j  nor  this  nor  that  defcends : 
.    So  ftood  the  war,  till  He(5tor's  matchlefs  might, 
"With  fares  prevailing,  turn'd  the  fcale  of  fight. 
Fierce  as  a  whirl v/ind  up  the  wall  he  flies. 
And  fires  his  hoft  with  loud  repeated  cries., 

lliaJy  b,  xii.  52 1 . 
Ut  Pios  in  feptJs  fecretis  nafcitur  hortis, 
Ignotus  pecori,  nuUo  contufus  aratro, 
Quem  mulcein  aur?;,  ftrmat  fol,  educat  imber, 
A'Julti  ilium  pueri,  nmltse  cupiere  puells  ; 
Idem,  cum  tenui  carptus  defloruit  ungui, 
Nulli  ilium  pueri,  nuilas  cupiere  pueliae : 
Sic  virgo,  dum  intafla  manet,  dutii  cara  fuis  j   fed 
Cum  cadum  amifit,  poUuto  corpore,  florem, 

Nee 


122  Comparison's.  Ch.XIX. 

Nee  pueiia  jucu'nia  manet,  nee  cara  puellis.  [Catullus. 
The  imitation  of  this  beautiful  fniiile  by  Ario/lo,  canto 
I.  7?.  42.  falls  fhort  of  the  original.  It  is  alfo  in  part 
imitated  by  Pope  *. 

Lucetta.  I  do  not  feek  to  quench  your  love's  hot  fire, 
Rut  qualify  the  fire's  extreme  rng^. 
Left  it  fhould  burn  above  the  bounds  of  reafon. 

Julia.  The  more  thou  dammll  it  up,  the  more  it 
burns : 
The  current,  that  with  gentle  murmur  glides. 
Thou  know'ft,  being  fi:opp'd,  impatiently  doth  rage; 
But  when  his  fair  courfe  is  not  himifred, 
He  makes  fweet  mufic  with  th'enamel'd  Hones, 
Giving  a  gentle  kifs  to  every  fedge 
He  overtaketh  in  his  pilgrimage. 
And  fo  by  many  winding  nooks  he  ftrays 
With  willing  fport,  to  the  wild  ocean. 
Then  let  me  go,  and  hinder  not  my  courfe; 
I'll  be  as  patient  as  a  gentle  Itream, 
And  make  a  pallime  of  each  weary  ftep 
Till  the  laft  liep  have  brought  me  to  my  love  ; 
And  there  I'll  reft,  as,  after  much  turmoil, 
A  bleffed  foul  doth  in  Eiyfium. 

T^vo  Gentlemen  of  Ferona,  ad  z  fc.  i  o. 

• She  never  told  her  love, 

But  let  concealment,  like  a  worm  i'  th'  bud, 
Feed  on  her  damafk  cheek :   fhe  pin'd  in  thought ; 
And  with  a  green  and  yellow  melancholy, 
She  fat  like  Patience  on  a  monument. 
Smiling  at  Giief.  [T-ivelfth  Night,  aB  2.  fc.  6. 

York.  The.i,  as  I  faid,  the  Duke,  great  Boiingbroke, 
Mounted  upoii  a  hot  and  fiery  Heed, 
Which  his  alp:  i:ig  li'ier  feem'd  to  know. 
With  (lov;  but  lately  pace,  kept  on  his  courfe: 
While  all  tongues  cry'd,  God  lave  thee,  Boiingbroke. 
Duchefs.  Ahis!  poor  Richard,  v/heie  rides  he  the 

'  while! 
Tork.   As  in  a  theatre,  the  eyes  of  men, 
After  a  well  giac'd  ador  leaves  the  ilage, 

Are 

*  D'Jiiciad,  b.  4.  I.  405. 


*Gh.XIX.  CoMPARrnoNs.  125 

Are  idly  bent  on  him  that  enters  nexf, 
Thinking  his  prattle  to  be  tedious : 
Even  fo,  or  with  much  more  contempt,  men's  eyes 
Did  fcowl  on  Richmd  ;  no  man  cry'd,  God  fave  him! 
No  joyful  tongue  gave  him  his  welcome  home  ; 
'But  duft  was  thrown  upon  his  fi;cred  head  ; 
Which  with  fuch  gentle  forrow  he  iTiook  ofF, 
His  face  ftill  combating  with  tears  and  fmilcs, 
The  badges  of  his  grief  and  patience  ; 
That  had  not  God,  for  fome  ftrong  purpofe,  fieel'd 
The  hearts  of  men,  they  muft  perforce  hare  melted  ; 
And  barbarifm  itfelf  have  pitied  him. 

Richard  \\.  n£l  5.  Jc.  3. 
Northumberland.  How  doth  my  fon  and  brother  ? 
Thou  trembleft,  and  the  whitenefs  in  thy  cheek 
Is  ap'er  than  thy  tongue  to  tell  thy  errand. 
Even  fuch  a  man,  fo  faint,  fo  fpiritlefs,  - 
So  dull,  fo  dead  in  look,  fo  wo-be-gone. 
Drew  Priam's  curtain  in  the  dead  of  night. 
And  would  have  told  him,  half  his  Troy  was  burn'd  • 
But  Priam  found  the  fire,  ere  he  his  tongue  : 
And  I  my  Piercy's  death,  ere  thou  report'it  it. 

Second  part,  Henry  IV.  ail  \ .  Jc.  ^ 
Why,  then  I  do  but  dream  on  fov'reignty, 
Like  one  that  ftands  upon  a  promontory. 
And  fpiesa  far-off  fliore  where  he  would  tread, 
Wifhing  his  foot  were  equal  with  his  eye, 
•And  chides  the  fea  that  funders  him  from  thence. 
Saying,  he'll  lave  it  dry  to  have  his  way  : 
So  do  I  wifh,  the  crown  being  fo  far  off, 
And  fo  I  chide  the  means  that  keep  me  from  if. 
And  lo  (1  fay)   I'll  cut  the  caufes  off, 
Fiatt'jing  my  mind  with  things  impofiible. 

Third  part,   Henry  VI.  ad  3.  fc.  3. 

"7"-; Out,  out,  brief  candle! 

Life's  but  a  walking  fhadow,  a  poor  player, 
1  nat  flruts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  ftage 
And  then  is  heard  no  more.         {Macbeth,  ak  i    fc   c 
O  thou  Gaddefs,  -^  ■  ^' 

Thou  divine  Nature!  how  thyfelf  thou  blazon'ft 
in  thefe  two  princely  boys !   they  are  as  gentle 
As  zephyrs  blowing  below  the  violet. 

VOL.    il.  p  .., 

'^  Not 


124  Comparisons.  Ch.XIX. 

Not  wagging  his  fweet  head ;  and  yet  as  rough, 
(Their  royal  blood  inchal'd)  as  the  rud'ft  wind, 
That  by  the  top  doth  take  the  mountain-pine. 
And  make  him  ftoop  to  th'  vale. 

Cymheline,  ad  4.  fc.  4. 

Why  did  not  I  pafs  away  in  fecret,  like  the  flower  of 
the  rock  that  lifts  its  fair  head  unfeen,  and  ftrows  its  wi- 
thered leaves  on  the  blaft  ?  FttlgoL 
There  is  a  joy  in  grief  when  peace  dwells  with  the 
forrowful.  But  they  are  wafted  with  mourning,  O 
daughter  of  Tofcar,  and  their  days  are  few.  They  fall 
away  like  the  flower  on  which  the  fun  looks  in  his 
ftrength,  after  the  mildev/  has  paffed  over  it,  and  its 
head  is  heavy  with  the  drops  of  night.  Fingal. 
The  fight  obtained  of  the  city  of  Jerufalem  by  the 
Chriftian  army,  compared  to  that  of  land  difcovered  af- 
ter a  long  voyage,  Taflb's  Gierujalem,  canto  3.  //.  4. 
The  fury  of  Rinaldo  fubfiding  when  not  oppofed,  to 
that  of  wind  or  water  when  it  has  a  free  paffage,  canto 
20.  y?.  58. 

As  words  convey  but  a  faint  and  obfcure  notion  of 
great  numbers,  a  poet,  to  give  a  lively  notion  of  the 
objea  he  defcribes  with  regard  to  number,  does  well 
to  compare  it  to  what  is  familiar  and  commonly  kriown- 
Thus  Homer  *  compares  the  Grecian  aimy  in  point  of 
number  to  a  fwarm  of  bees :  in  another  paffage  f  he 
compares  it  to  that  profufion  of  leaves  and  flowers  which 
appear  in  the  fpiing,  or  of  infeds  in  a  fummer'a  even- 
ing :  and  Milton, 

^  As  when  the  potent  rod 

Of  Amram's  fon  in  Egypt's  evil  day 
Wav'd  round  the  coalt,  up  call'd  a  pitchy  cloud 
Of  locufts,  warping  on  the  eailern  wind, 
Tbat  o'er  the  realm  of  impious  Fhaiaoh  hung 
Like  night,  and  darken'd  ail  the  land  of  Nile: 
So  numberlefs  v/ere  ihofe  bad  angels  feen. 
Hovering  on  wing  under  the  cope  of  hell, 
'Twixl  upper,  nether,  and  furroundirg  fires. 

Paradife  loji,  hook  i . 
Such 

*  Book  z.  1.  ill.  t  Book  2.  1.  551. 


Ch.  XIX.  COMPARTSONS.  IJ^ 

Such  compariTons  have,  by  fome  writers  J,  been  con- 
deined  for  the  lownefs  of  the  images  introduced  :  but 
furely  without  reafon  ;  for,  with  regard  to  numbers, 
they  put  the  principal  fubjeft  in  a  ftrong  light. 

The  foregoing  coniparifons  operate  by  refemblancej 
others  have  the  fame  eifetl:  by  contraft. 

Tork.   I  am  the  laft  of  Noble  Edward's  fons, 
Of  whom,  thy  father.  Prince  of  Wales,  was  firft: 
In  war,  was  never  lion  rag'd  more  fierce  ; 
In  peace,  was  never  gentle  lamb  more  mild 
Than  was  that  young  and  princely  gentleman? 
His  face  thou  haft,  for  even  fo  look'd  he, 
Accomplilh'd  with  the  number  of  thy  hours. 
But  v/hen  he  frown'd,  it  was  againll:  the  French, 
And  not  ag.iinft  his  friends.     His  noble  hand 
Didwin  what  he  did  fpend ;  and  fpent  not  that 
vvhich  his  triumphant  father's  hand  had  won. 
His  hands  were  guilty  of  no  kindred's  blood, 
But  bloody  with  the  enemies  of  his  kin. 
Oh,  Richard !  York  is  too  far  gone  with  ^nef. 
Or  elle  he  never  would  compare  between.^ 

Richard  II.  nd  2.  fc.  3. 
Milton  has  a  peculiar  talent  in  embelliHiing  the  prin- 
cipal fubjed  by  affociating  it  ivith  others  that  are  a 
greeabie  ;   which  is  the  third  end  of  a  comparifon      Si^ 
miles  of  this  kind  have,  befide,  a  feparate  effeft  •"  they 
diverhfy  the  narration  by  new  images  that  are  not  ftrift- 
iv  neceffary  to  the  comparifon  ;   they  are  ihort  epifodes 
vvhich,  without  drawing  us  from  the  principal  fubjeft 
aftord  great  delight  by  their  beauty  and  variety : 
He  fcarce  had  ceas'd,  when  the  fuperior  fiend" 
Was  moving  toward  the  fhore;  his  pond'rous  ftield, 
Uherea    temper,  maffy,  large,  and  round, 
Behinu  him  caft ;  the  broad  circumference 
Hung  on  his  Ihoulders  like  the  moon,  whofe  orb 
i  hrough  optic  glafs  the  Tufcan  artift  views 
At  ev  ning  from  the  top  of  Fefole, 
Or  in  Valdarno,  to  defcry  new  lands, 
Kivers,  or  mountains,  in  her  fpotty  globe. 

Milton,  h.  I. 

^  ^  • Thus 

X  See  Vidx  Poetic,  lib.  2.  1.  28; 


126  Comparisons.  Ch.  XIX. 

.  Thus  far  thefe,  beyond 

Compare  of  mortal  prowcfs,  yet  obferv'd 

Their  dread  commander.     He,  above  the  relt 

In  (hape  and  gellure  proudly  eminent, 

Stood  like  a  tow'r ;  his  form  had  yet  not  loft 

All  her  original  brightnefs,  nor  appear d_ 

Lefs  than  archangel  ruin'd,  and  th' excels 

Of  glory  obfcur'd  :  as  when  the  fun  r.ew-nlen 

Looks  through  the  horizontal  miily^'r 

Shorn  of  his  beams;  or  from  behind  the  moon 

In  dim  eclipfe,  difaftrous  twilight  Iheds 

On  half  the  nations,  and  with  fear  ot  change 

Perplexes  monarchs.  AhUou,  h.  r. 

As  when  a  vulture  on  Imans  bred, 

^Vhofe  fnowv  ridge  the  roving  Tartar  bounds, 

Diaodging  from  a  region  fcarce  of  prey 

To  gorge  the  flefli  of  lambs,  or  yeanling  kids       _ 

On  hills  wheie  flocks  are  fed,  flies  toward  the  Ipnng. 

Of  Ganf^es  or  Hvdafpes,  Indian  flreams, 

But  in  hts  way  lights  on  the  barren  plains 

Of  Sericana,  where  Chinefes  drive 

With  fails  and  wind  their  cany  waggons  light: 

So  on  this  windy  fea  of  land,  the  fiend 

Walk'd  up  and  down  alone,  bent  on  his  p^ey.^^^^  ^    ^^ 

_. Yet  higher  than  their  tops 

The  verdurous  wail  of  Paradife  "P/P";;^"?'- 

Wliich  to  our  general  fire  gave  prcfpedt  large 

Into  this  nether  empire  neighbouring  round. 

Ard  higher  than  that  wall,  a  c.roing  row 

Of"  goodlieft  trees  loaden  with  faire'.t  fruit, 

Bioifoms  and  fruits  at  once  of  goloen  hue. 

Appea.'d,  with  gay  enam.l'd  colouis  mixd, 

0>  which  the  lun  .nore  glad  imnrels'd  his  beams 

Than  in  lair  evenincj  cloi.d,  or  huiv.id  bow, 

VVhen  God  h-.th  n>ow'rV,  the  earth  ;  »o  lovely  fecmd 

That  landlcape:  and  of  pure  now  puiet  air 

IVleershisapLach,  and  to  the  heart  mlpues 

Verialilelight  aid  joy,  able  to  d.ive 

All  fadnel^  but  defpar  :   now  gemle  gales  ! 

F.nnincr  their  i)don%ous  wings  nlpenle 

Native'petUiuH..,  a.d  wh.lper  whence  ihey  ftole^^^.  ^ 


Ch  XIX.  Comparisons.  127 

Thofe  balmy  f^oils.     As  when  to  them  who  fail 
Beyond  the  Cope  of  Hope,  and  now  are  paft 
Mozambic,  off  at  fea  north-eaft  winds  blow 
Sabean  odour  from  the  fpicy  fliore 
Of  Arabic  the  bleft  ;  with  fuch  delay 
Well-pleas'd  they  flack  their  courfe,  and  many  a  league, 
Chear'd  with  the  grateful  fmell,  old  Ocean  fmiles. 

Milton,  b.  4. 

With  regard  to  fimiles  of  this  kind,  it  will  readily  oc- 
cur to  the  reader,  that  when  a  refembling  fubje£l  is  once 
properly  introduced  in  a  fimile,  the  mind  is  tranfitorilr 
amufed  with  the  new  objedt,  and  is  not  diffatisfied  v/ith 
tht^  flight  interruption.  Thus,  in  fine  weather,  the  mo- 
mentary excurfions  of  a  traveller  for  agreeable  profpeds 
or  elegant  buildings,  chear  his  mind,  relieve  him  from 
the  languor  of  uniformity,  and  without  much  lengthen- 
ing his  journey  in  reality,  lliorten  it  greatly  in  appearance. 

Next,  of  comparifons  that  aggrandize  or  elevate. 
Thefe  affed  us  more  than  any  other  fort:  the  reafon  of 
which  may  be  gathered  from  the  chapter  of  grandeur 
and  fublimity;  and,  without  leafoning,  will  be  evident; 
from  the  following  inftances. 

As  when  a  flame  the  winding  valley  fills, 
And  runs  on  crackling  flirubs  between  the  hills,    - 
Then  o'er  the  Ihibble  up  the  mountain  flies, 
Fires  the  high  woods,  and  blazes  to  the  flcies, 
This  way  and  that,  the  fpreading  torrent  roars  ^ 
So  fwecps  the  hero  through  the  walled  fliores. 
Around  him  wide,  immenle  defl:ru£tion  pours, 
And  earth  is  delug'd  with  the  fanguine  lliowrs. 

iliad  \%,  569» 

Through  blood,  through  death,  Achilles  ftill  proceedsj 

O'er  flaughter'd  heroes,  and  o'er  rolling  deeds. 

As  when  avenging  flames  with  fury  driv'n 

On  guilty  towns  exert  the  wrath  of  Heav'n, 

The  pale  inhabitants,  fome  fall,   fome  fly, 

And  the  red  vapours  purple  all  the  flcy: 

So  rag'd  Achilles  ;  Death,  and  dire  difmay, 

And  toils,  and  terrors,  fiU'd  the  dreadful  day. 

Iliad  xxi.  605, 
F  3  Methinks, 


128  Comparisons.  Ch.XIX. 

Methinks,  King  Richard  and  myfelf  fliould  meet 
With  no  lefs  terror  than  the  elements 
Of  fire  and  water,  v/hen  their  thund'iing  fliock, 
At  meeting  tears  the  cloudy  cheeks  of  heav'n. 

_  Richard  \\.   ad  l.  fc.  5.. 

As  rufheth  a  foamy  ftream  from  the  dark  fliady  deep 
of  Cromhi,  when  thunder  is  rolling  above,  and  dark 
brown  night  refts  on  the  hill :  fo  fierce,  fo  vafl;,  fo  terri- 
ble, rufl)  forward  the  fons  of  Erin.  The  chief,  like  a 
whale  of  Ocean  followed  by  all  its  billows,  pours  va- 
lour torth  as  a  ftream,  rolling  its  might  along  the  fliore. 

Fingnl,  b.  I . 
As  roll  a  thoufand  waves  to  a  rock,  fo  Swaran's  hofi: 
came  on  j  as  meets  a  rock  a  thoufand  waves,  fo  Inisfail 
met  Swaran.  Hid. 

I  beg  peculiar  attention  to  the  following  fimile,  for  a 
reafon  that  fhall  be  mentioned  : 

Thus  breathing  death,  in  terrible  array. 
The  clofe  compared  legions  urg'd  their  way: 
Fierce  they  drove  on,  impatient  to  deftroy  ; 
Troy  charg'd  they  firft,  and  HeQor  firft  of  Troy. 
As  from  fome  mountain's  craggy  forehead  torn, 
A  rock's  round  fragment  flies  with  fury  borne, 
(Which  from  the  ftubborn  ftone  a.  torrent  tends) 
Precipitate  the  pond'rous  mafs  defcends  : 
From  fteep  to  fteep  the  rolling  ruin  bounds: 
At  every  ihock  the  crackling  wood  refounds ; 
Still  gath'ring  force,  it  fmoaks  ;  and,  urg'd  amain, 
Whirls,  leaps,  and  thunders  down,  impetuous  to  the 

plain  : 
There  flops — 'So  Heftor.   Their  whole  force  he  prov'd, 
Refiftlefs  when  he  rag'd  ;  and  when  he  ftopt,  unmov'd. 

Iliad  xiii.    187, 

The  image  of  a  falling  rock  is  certainly  not  e'evating  *  ; 
and  yet  undoubtedly  the  foregoing  funile  fires  and  fv.elh 
the  mind:  it  is  grand  therefore,  if  not  fublime.  And 
the  following  fimile  will  afford  additional  evidence,  that 
there  is  a  real,  though  nice,  diftinQion  between  thefe 
two  feelings : 

So 

♦  Sec  chap.  4. 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparisons.  129 

So  faying,  a  noble  ftroke  he  lifted  high. 

Which  hung  not,  but  fo  fwift  with  tempeft  fell 

On  the  proud  crell  of  Satan,  that  no  fight, 

Nor  motion  of  fwift  thought,  lefs  could  his  Ihield 

Such  ruin  intercept.     Ten  paces  huge 

He  back  recoil'd  ;  the  tenth  on  bended  knee 

His  inafiy  (pear  upflaid  ;  as  if  on  earth 

Winds  under  ground  or  waters  forcing  way. 

Sidelong  had  pufh'd  a  mountain  from  his  leat 

Half  funk  with  all  his  pines.  Milton,  h.  6. 

A  comparifon  by  contrail  may  contribute  to  grandeur 
or  elevation,  not  lefs  than  by  refemblance;  of  which 
the  following  comparifon  of  Lucan  is  a  remarkable 
inftance : 

Vidtrix  caufa  diis  placuit,  fed  vifta  Catoni. 
Confidering  that  the  Heathen  deities  pofTeffed  a  rank 
but  one  degree  above  that  of  mankind,  I  think  it  v/ou!d 
not  be  eafy  to  exalt  more,  by  a  fingle  expreffion,  one  of 
the  human  fpecies,  than  is  done  by  this  comparifon.  I 
am  fenfible,  at  the  fame  time,  that  fuch  a  comparifoa 
among  Chrillians,  who  entertain  more  exalted  notions 
of  the  Deity,  would  juftly  be  recko.ied  extravagant  and 
abfurd. 

The  laft  article  mentioned,  is  that  of  leffening  or  de- 
prefliRg  a  hated  or  difagreeable  obje61 ;  which  is  efrec- 
tually  done  by  refembling  it  to  any  thing  low  or  defpi- 
cablc.  Thus  Milton,  in  his  defcription  of  the  rout  of 
the  rebel-angels,  happily  expreffes  their  terror  and  dif- 
imy  in  the  following  fimile  : 

— — As  a  herd 

Of  goats  or  timorous  flock  together  throng'd. 
Drove  them  before  him  thunder-flruck,  purfu'd 
With  terrors  and  with  fuiies  to  the  bounds 
And  cryftal  wall  of  heav'n,  which  op'ning  wide, 
RowTd  inward,  and  a  fpacious  gap  difclos'd 
Into  the  walleful  deep  ;  the  monftrous  fight 
Strook  them  with  horror  backward,  but  far  worfe 
Urg'd  them  behind  ;  headlong  rhemfelves  they  threv\r 
Down  from  the  verge  of  heav'n.  Milton,  b.  6. 

In  the  fime  view,  Homer,  1  think,  may  be  juftified  in 

comparing  the  fhouts  of  the  Trojans  in  battle,  to  the 

F  4  noife 


130  Comparisons.  Ch,  XIX. 

no'le  of  cranes  *,  and  to  tlie  bleating  of  a  flock  of 
fiieen  t  :  it  is  no  objttSlion,  that  thefe  are  low  images  ; 
U)T  it  was  his  intention  to  leifcn  the  7'rojans  by  opoo- 
flng  their  noify  march  to  the  lilent  and  manly  iparch  of 
the  Greeks.  Addifon  %,  defcribipg  the  figure  that  men 
make  in  the  fight  of  a  fupcrior  being,  takes  opportuni- 
ty to  mortify  ihtir  piide  by  compaiing  them  to  a  fwariu 
of  pilniires. 

A  coniparifon  that  has  none  of  the  good  effeds  men- 
tioned in  this  dilcourfe,  but  is  built  upon  common  and. 
trifl  ng  circuniftances,  makes  a  mic-hty  filly  figure  : 

Notifum  nefcius,  grahdia  confilia  a  multis  plerumque-- 
caulis,  ceu  niagna  navigia  a  plutimis  remis,  impelli. 

Sirada  de  bello  Belgico.- 

By  this  time,  I  imagine,  the  different  jmrpofes  of 
ccmparifon,  and  the  vat  ions  impreffions  it  makes  on  the 
mmd,  are  lufticiently  illuiirated  by  prorer  examples. 
This  was  an  eafy  v,'0:k.  It  is  more  difficult  to  lay  down 
rules  about  the  propriety  or  impropriety  of  coir.pari- 
fons  ;  in  what  circiiraftances  they  may  be  introduced,- 
and  in  what  circurn-ances  they  are  cut  of  place.  It  is 
evident,  that  a  comparHon  is  not  proper  upon  every  oc- 
cafion  :  a  man  when  cool  and  fedate,  is  not  difpofed  to 
poeiical  flights,  nor  to  facrifice  truth  and  realiiy  to  the 
delufive  opeiations  of  the  imagination  :  far  lefs  is  he  fo . 
difpofed,  whenoprrefled  with  care,  orinterefled  in  fome 
important  tranfaftion  that  orcupies  him  totally.  Oa 
the  o'her  hand,  it  is  obfervable,  that  a  man,  when  ele- 
A'ated  or  animated  by  any  pallion,  is  difpofed  to  elevate 
or  animate  all  his  objects ;  he  avoids  familiar  names,  ex- 
aits  objedls  by  circumlocution  and  metaphor,  and  gives 
even  life  and  voluntary  adlion  to  inar.imate  beings.  In^ 
this  warmth  of  mind,  the  highefl:  poetical  flights  are-j 
indulged,  and  the  boldeft  fimiles  and  metaphors  relifh- 
ed  §.  But  without  foaring  fo  high,  the  mind  is  fre- 
quently] 


*  Beginning  of  book  3.  f  Book  4.  1   498.., 

%  Guardian,   N°  153. 

§   It  is  accordingly  obferved  by  Longinus,  in -his  trea? 
tife  of  the  Sublime,  that  the  proper  time  for  metaphor,' 
is  when  the  pafllons  are  fo  fwelled  as  to  hurry  on  like 
torrent- 


Ch.XIX.  Comparisons.  131 

quently  in  a  tone  to  relifh  chafte  and  moderate  ornament; 
fuch  as  comparifons  that  fet    the   principal   objcdl  in  a 
ftrong  point  of  view,  or  that  embellifh  and  diverfify  the 
narration,     in  general,  when  by  any  animating  palfion, 
whether  pleafant  or  painful,  an  impulfe  is  given  to  the 
imagination  ;  we  are  in  that  condition  difpofed  to  every 
fort  of  figurative  exprcffion,  and  in  particular  to  com- 
parifons.    This  in  a  great  ineafure  is  evident  from  the 
compaiifons  already  mentioned  ;  and  fhall  be  further  il- 
luftiared  by  other  inftances.     Love,  for  example,  in  its 
infancy,  rouHng  the  imagination,  prompts  the  heart  to 
dilplay  itfeif  in  figurative  language,  and  in  fiiniles  : 
Troi/uf.  Tell  me,  Apollo,  for  thy  Daphne's  love,  > 
What  Creffid  is,  what  Pandar,  and  what  we? 
Her  bed  is  India,   there  (lie  lies,  a  pearl : 
Between  our  Ilium,  and  where  (he  refides, 
Let  it  be  call'd  the  wild  and  wandering  fload  ; 
Ourfelf  the   merchant,  and  this  failing  Pandar 
Our  doubtful  hope,  our  convoy,  and  our  bark, 

Troilus  and  Crejficla,  ad  \.  fc.  j, 
Again  : 
Come,  gentle  Night;  come,  loving  black-brow'd  Night! 
Give  me  my  Romeo  ;  and,  when  he  fhall  die, 
Take  him,  and  cut  him  out  in  iittle  ftars. 
And  he  will  make  the  face  of  Heav'n  lo  fine, 
That  all  the  world  fhall  be  in  love  with  Night, 
And  pay  no  worfliip  to  the  garilh  Sun. 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  nH  3.  fc.  4, 

The  dre^J  of  a  misfortune,  however  imminent,  invol- 
ving always  fame  doubt  and  uncertainly,  agitates  the 
mind,  and  excites  the  imagination: 

Wolfey. Nay,  then,  farewell; 

I've  touch'd  the  higheft  point  of  all  my  greatnefs.    • 
And  from  that  full  meridian  of  my  glory 
I  hafle  now  to  my  fetting.     I  fhall  fall, 
Like  a  bright  exhalation  in  the  evening. 
And  no  man  fee  me  more.        [Henry  VIII.  a6l  3.  fc.  4-, 
But  it  will  be  a  better  illul^ration  of  the  prefeorhead, 
to  give  examples  where  comparifons  are  improperly  in- 
troduced.    1  have  had  already  occafion  to  obferve,  tnal- 
fijiiiles  are  not   the  language  of  a  man  in  his  ordinary 
F  5  iiase  •■ 


132  Comparisons.  Ch.  XIX. 

ftate  of  mind,  difpatching  his  daily  and  ufual  work: 
for  that  realon,  the  following  fpeech  of  a  gardener  to 
his  fervants,  is  extremely  improper : 

Go,  bind  thou  up  yon  dangling  apricolcs, 
Which,  like  unruly  children,  make  their  fire 
Stoop  with  oppreflion  of  their  prodign!  weight: 
Give  fome  fupportance  to  the  bending  tv.'igs. 
Go  thou,  and,  like  an  executioner, 
Cut  off  the  heads  of  toofaft-growing  fprays, 
That  look  too  lolty  in  our  coinnionweahh  : 
All  mull  be  even  in  our  government. 

Ri chord  II.  ad.  I.  fc.  7 
The  fertility  of  Shakefpear's  vein  betrays  him  frequent- 
ly into  this  error.  There  is  the  fame  impropriety  in  a- 
nother  fimile  of  his : 

Hero.  Good  Margaret,  run  thee  into  the  parlour; 
There  (halt  thou  find  my  coufin  Beatrice  ; 
Whifper  her  ear,  and  tell  her,  I  and  Urfula 
Walk  in  the  orchard,  and  our  whole  difcourfe 
Is  all  of  her ;  fay,  that  thou  overheardft  us  : 
And  bid  her  fteal  into  the  pleached  bower. 
Where  honeyfuckles,  ripen'd  by  the  fun. 
Forbid  the  fun  to  enter ;  like  to  favourites. 
Made  proud  by  princes,  that  advance  their  pride 
Againft  that  power  that  bred  it. 

Much  ado  cihout  nothing,  a£t  3.  fc.  I. 

Rooted  grief,  deep  anguifii,  terror,  remorfe.  defpair, 
and  all  -the  fevere  difpiriting  paifions,  are  decided  ene- 
mies, perhaps  not  to  figurative  language  in  general,  but 
tindoubtedly  to  the  pomp  and  folemnityof  comparifon. 
Upon  that  account,  the  fimile  pronounced  by  young 
Rutland,  under  terror  of  death  from  an  inveterate  ene- 
my, and  praying  mercy,  is  unnatural : 

So  looks  the  pent  up  lion  o'er  the  wretch 
That  trembles  under  his  devouring  paws; 
And  fo  he  walks  infuUing  o'er  his  prey. 
And  fo  he  comes  to  rend  his  limbs  afunder. 
Ah,  gentle  Clifford,  kill  me  with  thy  fword. 
And  not  with  fuch  a  cruel  threat'ning  look. 

Third  ^arti  Henry  VI    aa  \.  fc.  5; 

Nothing 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparisons.  133 

Nothing  appears  more  out  of  place,  nor  more  auk- 
wardly  introduced,  than  the  following  fimile  : 

Lucia. ■ Farewel,  my  Fortius, 

f'aiewel,  though  death  is  in  the  word,  fore<ver. 
Fortius.  Stay,  Lucia,  ftay  ;  what  doll  thou  fay  ?  for- 

e^jer  ? 
Lucia.  Have  I  not  fworn  ?  If,  Portias,  thy  fuccefs 
Muft  throw  thy  brother  on  his  fate,  farewell. 
Oh,,  how  fhall  I  repeat  the  word,  for  enjer  ! 

Fortius  Thus,  o'er  the  dying  lamp  th'  unrteady  flame 
Hangs  quivering  on  a  point,  leaps  off  by  fits, 
And  falls  again,  as  loath  to  quit  its  hold. 

Thou  mull:  not  go,  my  foul  ftill  hovers  o'er  thee. 

And  can't  get  loofe.  Cato,  at?  3.  fc.  2. 

Nor  doih  the  fimile  which  clofes  the  firll  z€t  of  the  fame 
tragedy,  make  a  betrer  appearance  ;  the  fituation  there 
reprefented  being  to>  diipiriting  for  a  fnnile.  A  limile 
is  improper  for  one  who  dreads  the  dllcovery  of  a  fe- 
cret  machination  : 

Zara.  The  mute  not  yet  return'd  !  Ha!  'twas  the 
King. 
The  King  that  parted  hence  !  frowning  he  went ; 
His  eyes  like  meteors  roll'd,  then  darted  down 
Their  red  and  angry  beams;  as  if  his  fight 
Would,  like  the  raging  Dog  (lar,  fcorch  the  earth, 
And  kindle  ruia  in  its  courie. 

Msurning  Bride y  ad  5.  fc.  3. 

A  man  fpent  and  difpirited   after  iofing  a  battle,  is  not 
difpofed  to  heighten  or  illuftrate  his  difcourfe  by  fimiles  : 
To'rk.  With  this  we  charg'd  again;  but  out,  alas! 
We  bodg'd  again  ;  as  I  have  feen  a  fwan 
With  bootlefs  labour  fwim  againft  the  tide, 
And  fpend  her  flrength  with  over-matching  waves. 
Ah!  hark,  the  fatal  followers  do  purfue  ; 
And  I  am  faint  and  cannot  fly  their  fury. 
The  fands  are  numher'd  that  make  up  my  life; 
Here  muft  I  ftay,  and  here  my  life  mull  end. 

Third  part,  Henry  VI.  ad  I.  fc.  6. 
Far  lefs  is  a  man  difpofed  to  fimiles  who  is  not  only  de- 
feated in  a  pitch'd  battle,  but  lies  at  the  point  of  death 
mortally  wounded ;  v 

War^vitk, 


134  COMPARISON'S.  Cli.XIX. 

IFartuick. My  mangled  body  fnews, 

AJy  blood,  my  want  of  ftrength,  my  fick  heart  fkews,  . 

That  1  inuft  yield  my  body  to  the  earth, 

And,  by  my  tall,  the  conqueft  to  my  foe. 

Thus  yields  the  cedar  to  the  ax's  edge, 

"Whole  arms  gave  ihelter  to  the  princely  eagle; 

Under  vvliofe  lliade  the  ramping  lion  flept, 

Whofe  top-branch  ovcrpeer'd  Jove's  fpreading  tree," 

And  kept  low  fhrubs  from  winter's  pow'rful  wind. 

Thinl part,  Henry  \\.  at?  5.  fc.  6 
Queen  Katharine,  deferted    by   the  King,    and   in   the 
deepeft  affliftion  upon  her  divorce,  could  nor  be  difpo- 
ied  to  any  failles  of  imagination  :  and  for   that  reaton, 
the  following  fimile,  however  beautiful  in  the  mouth  ol 
a  fpedtator,  is  fcarce  proper  in  her  own  : 
I  am  the  moft  unhappy  woman  living, 
Shipwreck'd  upon  a  kingdom,  where  no  pity, 
No  friends,  no  hope  !  no  kindred  weep  for  me  ! 
Alnioft  no  grave  aliow'd  me!  like  the  lily, 
That  once  was  mi0.r£rs  of  the  field,  and  flourilli'd, 
I'll  hang  my  head,  and  perifti. 

Khjg  Henry  VIII.  a^  3.  fc  i 

Similes  thus  unfeafonably  introduced,  are  finely  ridi- 
culed in  the  Rehearfal. 

Bayes.  Now  here  (he  muft  make  a  fimile. 

Smith.  Where's   the  necefluy  of  that,  Mr  Bayes? 

Bayes.   Becaufe  fhe's  luiprifed  ;  that's  a  general  rule 
you  muft  ever  make  a  fimile  when  you  are  furpriled  j  'ti; 
^a  new  way  of  writing.^. 

A  comparifon  is  not  always  faultlefs  even  where  it  is 
properly  introduced.  I  have  endeavoured  above  to  give 
a.  genera!  view  of  the  ditferent  ends  to  which  a  compa- 
rifofl  m-jy  contribute:  a  comparifon,  like  other  human 
j3rodu6Uons,  may  fall  (hort  of  its  end  ;  of  which  ^^\tSi. 
inftances  are  rot  rare  even  among  good  writers;  and  to 
complete  the  prefent  fubjett,  it  will  be  necelTary  to  make 
ibme  obrervation"s  upon  iuch  faulty  comparitons.  I  be- 
gin with  obferving,  that  nothing  can  be  more  erroneouc 
than  to  inftitute  a  comparifon  too  faint :  a  diftant  refen.'- 
"blance  or  contrail:  fatigues  the  mind  with  its  obfcurity, 
5e(^«fld  of  amufing  icj  and  tends  not  to  fulfil  any  orie 


Cli.  XIX".  Comparisons.  13.^. 

end  of  a  comparifon.     The  following  fuuiles   !eein  to 
labour,  under  this  defe<!Il. 

Albus  ut  obfcuro  dererget  nnbila  ccelo 

Sspe  Notiis,  neque  partinit  imhres 

Perpetiios:  f.c  tu  fapiens  finire  memento 

Triftitiam,  virjeque  labores, 

A'loUi,-  Plance,   mero.  Ilorat.   Carm.   1.  i,   cde  7 

Medio  dux  agmine  Turnus 


Vertitur  arma  tenens,  et  roto  vertice  fupra  ell: 
Ceil  feptem  furgens  fedatis  amnihus  altus 
Per  taciturn  Ganges:  aut  pingui  flumlne  Nilus  * 
Cum  lefluil  campis,  et  jam  fe  condidit  alveo. 

Mneid.  ix.    28»- 
Tallbus  orabat,  talefque  miferrima  fletus 
Fertque  refertque  foror :   fed  nullus  ille  movetur 
Fietibus,  aut  voces  ullas  traQabilis  audit. 
Fata  obftant :  plucidafque  viri  Deus  obluuit  aures.  ^ 
Ac  veluti  annofo  validam  cum  robore  quercum 
Alpini  Bores,  nunc  hinc,  nunc  flatibus  illinc 
Cruere  later  fe  ceitant ;  it  ftridor,  et  ahe 
Confternunt  terram  concuffo  flipite  frondes: 
Ipfa  lijeret  fcopulis:  et  quantum  vertice  ad  auras 
/Ethereas,  tantum  radice  in  Tartaia  tcndit. 
Haud  (ecus  alTiduis  hinc  atque  hinc  vooibus  heros    j 
Tunditur,  et  magno  perfentit  peftore  curas: 
Mens  immota  manet,  lacryaise  volvuntur  inanes. 

/Eneidy  iv.   437; 

K.  Rich.  Give  me  the  crown. — Here,  Coufin,  feisa 
the  crown, 
Here,  on  this  fide,  my  hand  ;  on  that  fide,  thine. 
Now  is  this  golden  crown  like  a  deep  well, 
That  o-z.^es  two  buckets,  filling  one  another;   , 
The  en)ptier  ever  dancing  in  the  air, 
The  other  down,  unfecn  and  full  of  water; 
That  bucket  down,  and  full  of  tears,  am  I, 
Diinking  my  griefs,  whilti  you  mount  up  on  high. 

Richard  II.  a6t  4.  fc.  3. 

King  John    Oh  !  Coufin,  thou  art  come  to  iet  mine 
eye; 
The  tackle  ot  my  heart  is  crack'd  and  burnt : 
And  all  the  flirowds  wherewith  my  life  fhould  fail, 


136  Comparisons.   •  Ch.XlX. 

Are  turned  to  one  thread,  one  little  hair: 
My  heart  hath  one  poor  firing  to  llay  ir  by, 
Which  holds  but  till  thy  news  be  uttered. 

King  John,   rtfl  5.   fc.  lo= 
Tork.  My  uncles  both  are  (lain  in  refcuing  lue  : 
And  all  my  follov/ers,  to  the  eager  foe 
Turn   back,  and  fly  like  fhips  before  the  wind, 
Or  lambs  purfu'd  by  hunger-ftarved  wolves. 

Third  pnrty_  Henry  VI,  ad  i .  fc.  6. 

The  latter  of  the  two  fimiles  is  good:  the  former,  be- 
caufe  af  the  faintnefs  of  the  refemblance,  produces  no 
good  effect,  and  crowds  the  narration  with  an  ufelefs 
linage.. 

The  next  error  I  fiiall  mention  is  a  capital  one.    In  an 
epic  poem,  or  in  any  elevated  fubj>;d,  a  writer  ought 
to  avoid  raifing  a  fiinile  upon  a  low  iiTiage,  which  never 
fails  to  bringdown  the  principal  iuhjedt.     In  general,  it 
js  a  rule.  That  a  grand  objetl:  ought  never  to  be  refem- 
bled  to  one  that  is  diminutive,  however  delicate  the  re- 
femblance may  be  :  for  it  is  the  peculiar  character  of  a 
grand  objedt  to  fix  the  attention,  and  fwell  the  mind  ;  in 
which  ftate,  it  is  difagreeable  to  contract  the  mind  to  a 
minute  objeG,  however  elegaat.     The  relembling    an 
obje6t  to  one  that  is  greater,  has,  on  the   contrary,  a 
good  effe(S,  by  raifing  or  fwelling  the  mind  :  for  one  paf- 
les  with  fatisfa(Etion  from  a  fmall  to  a  great  objefc ;  but 
cannot  be  drawn  down,  without  relu<^tance,  from  great 
to  fmall.     Hence  the  following  fimiles  are  faulty. 
Meanwhile  the  troops  beneath  Patroclus'  care, 
Invade  the  Trojans,  and  commence  the  war. 
As  wafps,  provok'd  by  children  in  their  play, 
Four  from  their  manfions  by  the  broad  highway. 
In  fwarms  the  guiltlefs  traveller  engage. 
Whet  all  their  flings,  and  call  forth  all  their  rage? 
All   rife  in  arms,  and  with  a  general  cry 
Affert  their  waxen  domes,  and  buzzing  progeny: 
Thus  from  the  tents  the  fervent  legion  fwarms, 
So  loud  their  clamours,  and  fo  keen  their  arms. 

Iliad  XV 1.  312, 
So  burns  the  vengeful  hornet  (foul  all  o'er) 
Repuls'd  in  vain,  and  thirftv  fliil  of  gore  j 

(Bold 


Ch.  XIX.  Comparisons.  137 

(Bold  fon  of  air  and  heat)  on  angry  vvings 
Untam'd,  ur.tii'd,  he  turns,  attacks  and  (ling?. 
Fir'd  with  like  ardour  herce  Atrides  flew, 
And  fent  his  loul  with  ev'ry  lance  he  threw. 

Iliad  xvii,  642. 
Indanf  ardentes'Tyrii ".  pars  ducere  muros, 
Molirique  arcem,  et  inanibus  lubvolvere  faxa  ; 
Pats  aptare  iocunv  teflo,  et  concludere  fiilco 
Jura  magitlratufque  legunt,  fan«Stumque  fenatum. 
Hie  portus  alii  eifodiiint :  hie  alta  theatris 
Fundamenta  locant  alii,  immanefque  columnas 
Rupibus  excidunt,  fcenis  decora  alta  futuris. 
Qualis  apes  sftate  nova  per  florea  rura 
Exercet  iiib  foie  labor,  cum  gentis  adtdtos 
Educunt  fetus,  aut  cum  liquentia  niella 
Stipant,  et  duici  diflendunt  nedlare  cellas, 
Aut  onera  accipiiinC  venientuiii,  aut  agniine  fadio 
Ignavum  fucps  pecus  a  pr^Tepibus  arcent. 
Fervet  opus,  redolentque  thynio  fragrantia  mella. 

^Eneid.-'i.  427. 

To  defcribe  bees  gathering  honey  as  refenibling  the  buil- 
ders-of  Carthage,  would  have  a  much  better  etfeft  *• 
Turn  vero  Teucri  incambunt,  et  littore  celfas 
Deducunt  toto  naves :  natat  un6la  carina  j 
Frondentefque  ferunt  remos,  et  robora  fylvis 
Infabricata,  fugs  fludio. 
Migrantes  cernas,  totaque  ex  urbe  ruentes. 
Ac  veluti  ingentem  formica:  farris  acervum 
Cum  populant,  hyemis  memores,  teftoque  reponunt; 
It  nigrum  campis  agmen,  prsdamque  per  herbas 
Conve£lant  calle  angufto:  pars  grandia  trudunt 
Obnixae  frumenta  humeris  ;   pars  agmina  cogunt, 
Caftigantque  moras  :  opere  oinnis  femita  fervet. 

JEneid.  iv.  397. 
The  following  fimile  has  not  any  one  beauty  to  re- 
commend it.     The  fJibjed  is  Amata,  the  wife  of  King 
Latinus. 

Turn 

*  And  accordingly  Demetrius  Phalereus  (of  Elocuti- 
on, fe£t.  85  )  obferves,  that  it  has  a  better  effedt  to  com- 
pare faiall  things  to  great  than  great  things  to  fmall. 


^■^S'  CoMp;\RisoNS.  Ch.  XIX. 

Turn  vero  infelix,  ingentibiis  escita  monftris, 
imiiienfam  fine  more  fuiit,  lymphata  per  urbem-. 
Ceu  quondam  torto  volirans  fub  verbcre  turbo, 
Quern  pueri  magno  in  gyro  vacua  atria  circum 
Intenti  iudo  exercent.     Ille  adus  habena 
Curvatis  fertur  fpatiis :   ftupet  infcia  tuiba, 
Inipubefque  maniis,  niirata  volubile  baxum; 
Dant  animos  plagaj      Non  curfu  fegnior  illo 
Per  niedias  urbes  agitur,  populofque  feroces, 

JEncid    vii.   376, 
This  fimile  feerns  to  border  upon  the  burlefque. 

An  error  oppolite  to  the  former,  is  the  introducing  e. 
refembling  image,  fo  elevated  or  great  as  to  bear  no  pro- 
portion to  the  principal  fubjeft.     Their  remarkable  dif- 
parity,  being  the  moll  ftrikirg  circumftance,  feizes  the 
mind,  and  never  fails  to  deprels  the  principal  (ubjeft  by 
contraft,  inflead  of  railing  it  by  refemblance:  and  if  the 
difparity  be  very  great,  the  fimile  takes  on  an  air  of  bur- 
lefque;  nothing  being  more  ridiculous  than  to  force  an 
objeft  oiit  of  its  proper  rank  in  nature,  by  equalling  it 
with  one  greatly  fuperior  or  greatly  inferior.    This  will' 
be  evident  from  the  following  comparifons. 
Fervet  opus,  redolentque  thymo  fragrantia  mella, 
Ac  veluti  lentis  Cyclopes  fulmina  mallis 
Cum  properant :  alii  taurinis  follibus  auras 
Accipiunt,  redduntque  :  alii  ftridentia  tingunt 
-/Era  lacu  :   gemic  impofitis  incudibus  yEtna  : 
lUi  inter  {ti^  magna  vi  brachia  tollunt 
In  numerum  ;  verfantque  tenaci  forcipe  ferrum.    . 
Non  aliter  (fi  parva  licet  componere  magnis) 
Cecropias  innatus  apes  amor  urget  habendi, 
Munere  quamque  fuo.     Grandasvis  oppida  curs,   . 
Et  inunire  favos,  et  Dsedala  fingere  teda. 
At  feffs  multa  referunt  fe  node  minores, 
Crura  thymo  plenas:  pafcuntur  et  arbuta  pafUm, 
Et  glaucas  falices,  caliimque  crocumque  rubentem,   , 
Et  pinguem  tiliam,  et  ferrugineos  hyacinthos. 
Omnibus  una  quies  operum,  labor  omnibus  unus  *: 

Georgic.  iv.    1  6q, 
^  ■ 

*  The  Cyclops  make  a  better  figure  in  the  follovi'ing;' 

iknile ;  • 

. _  Th: 


i 


Ch.XiX.  CCMPARISONS.  139- 

TiunBitian  ardentem  oculis  aniniilque  ficmentem-; 
Non  jaculo,  neque  enini  jaculo  vltam  ille  dcdiflct; 
Sed  Diagnuin  ilridens  contorta  falutica  venic 
Fulminis  scla  modo,  quam  nee  duo  taurea  terga, 

'  Nc-c  dnplici  fquama  lorica  fidelis  et  auro 
Siifiinuit  :  collapfa  ruunt  immaiiia  membra  : 
Dat  telius  gciivcum,  et  clypeiiin  fuper  iiitonat  ingens, 
Quaiis  in  Euboico  BaiiTiUTi  iittoie  quondam 
Sa\ea  pila  cadit,  magnis  quam  nioiibus  ante 
Conltru6lain  jaciunt  ponto  :  fic  ilia  ruinam 
Prona  trahit,  penitufque  vadis  illila  recumbit  : 

"  Mifcent  fe  maria,  et  nigias  attoUuntur  arense  : 
Turn  foniiu  Prochyta  alta  treiiilr,  durunique  cubile- 
Inaiime  Jovis  ir»periis  impoO.a  Typhoeo, 

Mneici,  ix.   703. 
Loud  as  a  bull  makes  hill  and  valley  ring, 
So  roar'd  the  lock  when  it  releab'd  the  Ipring. 

Ociyjfey,   xxi.   51-. 

Such  a   fiiiiile  upon  the  fimplefl:  of  all  a.^lions,  that  of 
opening  a  door,  is  pure  burlelque. 

A  vviiter  of  delicacy  will  avoid  drawing  his  compa- 
FJfons  from  any  image  that  is  nauieous,  ug'y,  or  le- 
ip.aikably  difagieeable  J  for  however  llrong  the  refem- 
biance  may  be,  more  will  be  loft  than  gained  by  fuch 
comparilon.  Therefore  1  cannot  help  condemning^ 
though  with  feme  reludance,  the  following  fimile,  or 
rather  metaphor. 

O  thou  . 
The  Thracian  leader  preft, 


"With  eagei  courage,  far  before  the  reft  ; 

Him  Ajax  met,  inflam'd  with  equal  rage; 

Between  the  v/oncl'iirg. hofts  the  chiefs  engage  ; 

Their  weighty  weapons  round  their  heads  they  throw. 

And  Iwift,  and  heavy,  falls  each  thund'ring  blow. 

As  when  in  Etna's  caves  the  giant  brood, 

Tlie  one-ey'd  fervants  of  the  Lemnian  god, 

In  order  round  the  burning  anvil  ftand, 

And  forge,  with  weighty  ftrokes,  the  forked  brand  ^ 

The  fhaking  hills  their  fervid  toils  confefs. 

And  echoes  rattling  through  each  dark  recefs  : 

5ft  rag'd  the  fight.  Epigoniady  b.  S^ 


I40  •  Comparison's.  Ch.  XIX. 

O  thou  fond  many!  wiih  what  loud  applaufe 
Did'ft  thou  beat  hcav'n  with  blelfing  Bolfngbrokc 
Before  lie  was  what  thou  wou'drt  have  him  be? 
And  now  being  tiimni'd  up  in  thine  own  defires, 
Thou,  bealTily  feeder,  art  fo  full  of  him, 
That  thou  provok'ft  thyfelf  to  call:  him  up. 
And  fo,  thou  common  dog,  diJll  thou  difgorge 
Thy  glutton  bofom  of  the  royal  Richard, 
And  now  thou  wou'dll:  eat  thy  dead  vomit  up. 
And  howl'lt  to  find  it. 

Second  part,  Henry  IV.   a^  I.  fc.  6. 

The  ftrongeft  objeflion  that  can  lie  againft  a  compa- 
rifon,  is,  that  it  confifts  in  words  only,  not  in  fenfe. 
Such  falfe  coin,  or  baftard  wit,  does  extremely  well  in 
burlefque;  but  is  far  below  the  dignity  of  the  epic,  or 
of  any  ferious  compofition  : 
The  noble  fifter  of  PopHcoia, 
The  moon  of  Rome ;  chafte  as  the  ificle 
That's  curdled  by  the  froft  from  pureft  fnow, 
Arjd  hangs  on  Dian's  temple.      Coriolanus,  ad  %.  fc.  'k. 

There  is  evidently  no  refemblance  between  an  ificle,  and 
a  woman,  chalfe  or  unchafte  ;  but  chafticy  is  cold  in  a 
metaphorical  fenfe,  and  an  ificle  is  cold  in  a  proper  fenfe; 
and  this  verbal  refemblance,  in  the  hurry  and  glow  of 
compofiiig,  has  been  thought  a  fufficient  foundation  for 
the  fimile.  Such  phantom  fimiles  are  mere  witticifms, 
which  ought  to  have  no  quarter,  except  where  purpole- 
ly  introduced  to  provoke  laughter.  Lucian,  in  his  dif- 
lertation  upon  hiftory,  talking  of  a  certain  author,  makes 
the  following  comparifon,  which  is  verbal  merely. 

This  author's  defcriptions  are  fo  cold,  that  they  fur- 
pafs  the  Cafpian  fnow,  and  all  the  ice  of  the  north. 

Virgil  has  not  efcaped  this  puerility  : 

Galathasa  thymo  mihi  dulcior  Hyblse, 

Bucol.  vii.  37. 

• Ego  Sardois  videar  tibi  amarior  herbis- 

Ibid.  41.   . 
Gallo  cujus  amor  tantum  mihi  crefcit  in  horas, 
Q^iantuin  vere  novo  viridis  fe  fubjicit  ainus. 

BuQol..  X.  73. 
Nor 


Ch.  XIX;  Comparisons.  iai 

Nor  TafTj,  in  his  Aininta  : 
Picciola  e'  1'  ape,  e  fa  col  picciol  morfo 
Pur  gravi,  e  pur  nriolefte  le  ferite  ,■ 
Ma,  qual  cofa  e  piu  picciola  d'  aniore, 
Se  in  ogni  bieve  fpaiio  entra,  e  s' afconde 
In  ogni  breve  fpatio  ?  hor,  fotto  a  1'  oiiibra 
De  le  palpebre,  hor  tia  miniiti  rivi 
D'un  biondo  crine,  hor  dcntro  le  po'zzette    . 
Che  forma  un  dolce  lilb  in  bt-lla  guancia  ; 
E  pur  fa  tanto  grandi,  e  fi  mortali, 
Ecofi  inimedicabili  le  piaghe.  ^Jl  2.  fc.  i. 

NorBoileau,  the  chafteft  of  all  writers;   and  that  even 
in  his  art  of  poetry  : 

Ainfi  rel  autrefois,  qu'on  vit  avec  Faret 
Charbonner  de  fes  vers  les  niurs  d'un  cabaret, 
S'en  va  mal  a  propos,  d'une  voix  infolente, 
Chanter  du  peuple  1-Jebreu  la  fuite  triomphantc, 
Lt  pourfuivant  Moife  au  travers  des  deferts. 
Court  avec  Pharaon  fe  nojer  dans  les  mers. 

Chant.  I,  I.  21 1 
Mais  allons  voir  le  Vrai  jufqu'n  fa  fource  meme, 
Un  devotaux  yeux  creux,  et  d'abltinence  bleme, 
S'll  n'a  point  le  coear  jufte,  eft  afFreux  devant  Dieu, 
L'Evangile  au  Chretien  ne  dit,  en  aucun  lieu, 
Sois  devot:  elle  dit,  Sois  doux,  fimple,  equitable: 
Car  d'un  devot  fouvent  au  Chretien  veritable 
La  dirtance  elt  deux  fois  plus  longue,  a  nion  avis. 
Que  du  Pole  Antartlique  au  Detroit  de  Davis. 

Boileau,  t>atire  II. 

; But  for  their  fpirits  and  fouls 

This  word  rebellion  had  froze  them  up 
As  fifh  are  in  a  pond. 

Second  part,  Henry  IV.  a^  I.  fc.  3. 
^.een.  The  pretty  vaulting  fea  refus'd  to  drown  me; 
Knowing,  that  thou  wou'dll  have  me  drown'd  on  fiiore 
VNith  tears  as  l^lt  as  fea,  through  thy  unkindnefs. 

Second  part,  Henry  VI.  ad  3.  fc.  6. 
Here  there  13  no  manner  of  refemblance  but  in  the  word 
droivn;  for  there  is  no  real  refemblance  between  being 
drown'd  at  fea,  and  dying  of  grief  at  land.  But  per- 
haps tnis  fort  of  tinfel  wit  may  have  a  propriety  in  it, 

when 


142  Comparisons.  Ch.  XIX. 

when  ufed   to  exprels  an  alFcfted,  not  a   real   paflion, 
which  was  the  Queen's  cafe. 

Pope  has  fevera!  finules  of  the  fame  (lamp,     I  ihall 
tranfcribe  one  or  two  from  the  EJJay  on  Man,  the  gra- 
ved and  mod  inllruftive  of  all  his  performances : 
And  hence  one  mafter  paillon  in  the  breaft, 
Like  Aaron's  ferpenc,  fwallows  up  the  reft:, 

Epijl.  3.  /.   131. 

And  again,  talking  of  this  fame  ruling  or  mailer  pallion: 
Nature  its  mother,   Habit  is  its  nurfe  j 
Wit,  fpirir,  faculries,   but  make  it  vvorfe; 
Reafon  itfelf  but  gives  it  edge  and  puw'r ; 
As  heav'n's  blefs'd  beam  turns  vinegar  more  four. 

Ibid.  I    145. 

Lord  Bolingbroke,  fpeaking  of  hirtoiiatis: 

Where  their  fincerity  as  to  fad  is  doubiful,  we  ftrike 
out  truth  by  the  confrontation  of  different  accoiins;  as 
we  !l:rike  out  fparks  of  tire  by  the  cojlifio.i  ol  fi.  .ts  and 
fteeJ. 

Let  us  vary  the  phrafe  a  very  little,  and  there  will  not 
remain  a  fhadow  of  refcmblance.     Thus, 

We  difcover  truth  by  the  confrontation  of  dilferent 
accounts;  as  we  llrike  out  fparks  of  tire  by  the  coilifi" 
on  of  flints  and  fteel. 

Racine  makes  I'yrrhus  fay  to  Andromaque, 
Vaincu,  charge  de  fers,  de  regrets  contnme, 
Brul6  de  plus  de  feux  que  je  n'en  allninai, 
Helas  !  fus-je  jamais  fi  cruel  que  vous  I'etes  ? 
And  Oreftes  in  the  fame  fl;rain  : 
Q^ie  les  Scythes  font  moins  ctuels  qu'  Hermione.' 
Similes  of  this  kind  put  onein  mind  of  a  ludicrow 
F-iench  fona  : 

Je  croyois  Janneton 
Aufll  douce  que  belle  : 
Je  crovois  J:iniieton 
Plus  douce  qu'un  mouton  ; 

Hela!   helas! 
E]le  elT:  cent  fois,  mille  fois,  plus  cruelle 
Que  a'eft  le  tigre  aux  bois. 

Agaiaj 


Ch  XIX.  Comparisons.  143 

Again  : 

Helas !  Tamour  m'a  pris, 

Comme  le  chat  fait  la  rou:is. 
A  vulgar  Iridi  balLtd  begins  thus  : 

J    have  as  much  iove  in  irore 

As  tnere's  apples  in  Poitniofe. 

Where  the  fubjetl  is  biulefque  or  ludicrous,  fuch  fi- 
iniles  are  Jar  from  bein^  improper.  Horace  fays  plea- 
fantiy, 

Qj-ianqiim  tii  levior  cortice.  L.  3    ode  9, 

And  Snakcipe  >r, 
In  breaking  oaths  he's  ftronger  than  Kercules. 
A.i  i  this  leads  me  to  obferve,  that  befide  the  forego- 
ing conip:irilj)ns,   which  are  all   ferious,  there  is  a  fpe- 
cics,  the   end  and  purpofe  of  which  is  to  excite  gaiety 
or  niiith.     Take  the  following  examples. 
Falitatf",  fpeaking  to  his  page  : 
\  do  here  u^alk  before  thee,  like  a  fov^  that  hath  over- 
whelmed all  her  litter  but  one. 

Second  part,  Hen'y  IV.   a(^  I.   fc.  4. 
T  thiiik  he  is  not  a  oick  purfe,  nor  a  no:  fe  ftealer  :  but 
for  his  verity  in  love,  I  do  think  liim  as  coneave  as   a 
covcru  goblet,  or  a  worm-eaten  nut. 

j^s  you  like  it,  ad  3.  fc.  10. 
This  r\A'ord  a  dagger  had  his  page, 
Tiiat  was  but  little  for  his  age  ; 
And  therefore  waited  on  him  fo, 
As  dwarfs  upon  knights-errrant  do, 

Htidilras  canto  i, 

Defcjiption  of  Hudibras's  horfe : 

He  was  well  llay'd,  and  in  liis  gait 
Preferv'd  a  grave,  majeflic  flate. 
At  fpur  or  fwitch  no  more  he  flcipt, 
Or  mended  pace,  than  Spaniard  whipt  : 
And  yet  fo  fiery,  he  would  bound 
As  if  he  griev'd  to  touch  the  ground  : 
T'lTt  Cselar's  horfe,  who,  as  tame  goes. 
Had  corns  upon  bis  feet  and  toes, 
Vvas  not  by  half  fo  tender  hoofr. 

Nor 


'44  Comparisons.  Ch.  XIX. 

Nor  trod  upon  the  ground  fo  foft. 
And  as  that  bead  would  kneel  and  ftoop, 
(Some  write,  to  take  his  rider  up); 
So  Hiidlbras  his  ('tis  well  known)  ' 

Would  often  do  to  fet  him  down.  C^nto  ij 

Honour  is,  h"ke  a  widow,   won 
With  brifk  attempt  and  putting  on, 
With  entering  manfully,  and  urging  ; 
Not  flow  approaches,  like  a  virgin.  Canto  I. 

The  fun  had  long  fince  in  the  lap 
Of  Thetis  taken  out  his  nap  ; 
And,  like  a  lobfter  boil'd,  the  morn 
From  black  to  red  began  to  turn.      Part  2.  canto  2. 
Books,  like  men,  their  authors,  have  but  one  way  of 
cotmrig  into  the  world;  but  there  are  ten  thoufand  to  go 
out  of  U,  and  return  no  more.  Tale  of  a  Tub. 

And  in  this  the  world  may  perceive  the  difference  be- 
tween  the  integrity  of  a  generous  author,  and  that  of  a 
common  friend.  The  latter  is  obferved  to  adhere  clofe 
in  profperity,  but  on  the  decline  of  fortune,  to  drop 
fuddenly  off:  whereas  the  generous  author,  juft  on  the 
contrary,  finds  his  hero  on  the  dunghill,  from  thence  by 
gradual  tie ps  raifes  him  to  a  throne,  and  then  immedi- 
ately withdraws,  expecting  not  fo  much  as  thanks  for 
^'5  P^'"S-  Tale  of  a  Tub. 

The  moft  accomplifli'd  way  of  ufing  books  at  prefent 
is,  to  ferve  them  as  fome  do  lords,  learn  their  titles,  and 
then  brag  of  their  acquaintance.  Tale  of  a  Tub. 

Box'd  in  a  chair,  the  beau  impatient  fits, 
^^'hile  fpouts  run  clatt'ring  o'er  the  roof  by  fits; 
And  ever  and  anon  with  frightful  din 
The  leather  founds;  he  trembles  from  within. 
So  'A-hen  Troy  chairmen  bore  the  v.-ooden  deed, 
Pregnane  with  Greeks,  impatient  to  be  freed,' 
(Thofe  bully  Greeks,  who,  as  the  modems  do, 
Inllead  of  payirtg  chairmen  run  them  througii), 
Laocoon  ilruck  the  outdde  with  his  fpear. 
And  each  imprilon'd  hero  quak'd  for  fear*, 

Defcription  of  a  ciiy-pjoijuer.     Stvift. 

Clubs, 


Ch.XX,  Figures.  145 

Clubs,  diamonds,  hearts,  in  wild  diforder  feen, 

With  throngs  proinilcuous  ftrow  the  level  green. 

Thus  when  difpers'd  a  routed  army  runs, 

Of  Afi.i's  troops,  and  Afric's  fahie  fons, 

With  like  confufion,  diflerent  nations  Ry, 

Of  various  habit,  and  ol"  various  dye, 

The  pierc'd  battalions  difiinited,  fall 

In  heaps  on  heaps  j  one  fate  oerwhelms  them  ail. 

R^ipe  of  the  Locky  canto  3. 
He  does  not  confider,  that  finceriiy  in  love  is  as  much 
out  of  fafhion  as  fweet  fnuff  j  no  body  takes  it  now. 

Carelefs  hujhand. 
Lady  Eafy.  My  dear,  I  am  afraid  you  have  provoked 
her  a  little  too  far. 

Sir  Charles    O!  \^ot  at  all     You  fliall  fee,  I'll  fweet- 
cn  her,  and  fhe'll  cool  like  a  dilh  of  tea.  ]bid. 

CHAP.       XX.         Figures. 

THE  reader  vfill  not  find  here  a  complete  lift  of 
the  dirFerent  tropes  and  figures  that  have  been 
carefully  noted  by  antient  critics  and  grammarians  ;  a 
iill  fwelled  to  fuch  a  fize  by  containing  every  unufual 
expreffion,  as  to  make  it  difficult  to  dilb'nguilh  many  of 
their  tropes  and  figures  from  plain  language.  I  little 
imagined  that  much  could  be  made  of  tropes  and  figures 
in  the  way  of  rational  criticifm  ;  till  difcovering  by  a 
fort  of  accident,  thit  iDany  of  them  depend  on  prin- 
ciples formerly  e::pl,^.ined,  I  gladly  embraced  an  oppor- 
tunity to  fliow  the  influence  of  tliefe  principles  where 
,it  would  be  rhe  leaft  expetted.  Confining  myfelf  there- 
fore to  iuch  figure?,  I  am  luckily  freed  from  much  trafb; 
without  dfoppir.g,  lb  far  as  I  remember,  any  trope  or 
figure  that  merits  a  proper  name..  And  I  begin  with 
Profopopcsia  or  perfoaification,  which  is  jullly  intitled 
to  the  firll:  place. 

SECT.     I.       PE  RSO  NIFIC  AT  ION. 

THE  beftowing  fenfibility  and  voluntary  motion 
upon  things  inanimate,  is  fo  bold  a  figure,  as  to 
require,  one  fiiould  imag.re,  very  peculiar  circiunftan- 
ces  for  operating  the  delufion :  and  yet,  in  the  language 

of 


j^6  Figures.  Gh,  XX. 

of  poetry,  we  fiiul  variety  of  expreilion?,  whicli,  though 
coniinonly  reduced  to  that  fig  re,  are  u!ed  without  ce- 
remony, or  any  (ort  of  preparation  ;  as  for  example, 
ihirfly  ground,  hungry  church -yard.  yi/>/»«j  dart,  nngry 
ocean.  Thefe  epithets,  in  their  proper  meaning,  are 
attributes  of  fenfible  beings :  what  is  their  meaning, 
when  apply'd  to  things  "inanimate  ?  do  they  make  us 
conceive  the  ground,  the  church-yard,  the  darr,  the 
ocean,  to  be  endued  with  animal  funflions  ?  This  is  a 
curious  i:iquiry;  and  whether  To  or  not,  it  cannot  be 
declined  in  handli:ig  the  prefent  fubjedt. 

The  mind  agitated  by  certain  paJlion,  is  prone  to  be- 
■ftow  feufibih'tv  upon  tilings  inaniniate  *.  1  his  is  an  ad- 
ditional inllance  of  the  influence  of  pafTion  upon  our 
opinions  and  belief f-  I  give  fome  examples.  Antony, 
mourning  over  the  body  of  Caifar,  murdered  in  the  le- 
•nate-houfe,  ventSvhis  paflion  in  the  following  v.-ords. 
j^ntcny.  O  pardon  me,  thou  bleeding  piece  of  earth, 

That  I  am  meek  and  gentle  with  the'e  butchers. 

Thou  art  the  luins  of  the  nobleft  man 

That  ever  lived  in  the  tide  of  times. 

Julius  Ca-far,  a6l  3.  Jc.  4. 

■Here  Antony  mufl  have  been  imprefled  with  fome  fort 
of  notion,  that  the  body  of  Csfiir  was  liilcning  to  him, 
without  which  the  fpeech  would  be  fooliih  and  abfurd. 
Nor  will  it  appear  llrange,  after  what  is  laid  in  the 
chapter  above  cited,  'hat  paffion  (hould  have  fuch  pow- 
er over  the  mind  of  man.  In  another  example  of  the 
fame  kind,  the  earth,  as  a  common  mother,  is  anima- 
ted to  give  refuge  againft  a  father's  unkindnefs  : 

Ahneria    O  Earth,  behold,  I  kneel  upon  thy  bofoin^ 
And  bend  my  flowing  eye.  tr)  llreaiu  upon 
Thy  face,  implorirg  rhee  that  thou  wilt  yield  ; 
Open  thy  bowels  of  compailion,   take 
Intu  \.\\)  womb  the  laft  and  moft  forlorn 
Of  -iill  thy  race.     Heat  me,  thou  common  parent ; 

1  hdve  no  parent  elfe. Be  thou  a  mother, 

A'.:Ci  ilep  between  me  and  the  rurfe  of 'him, 
\V]io  was — who  was,  but  is  no  more  a  father; 

But 


*  Page  204.  f  Chap.  2.  part  5. 


J 


Sea.T.  Figures.  147 

But  brand';  my  innocence  with  horrid  crimes  ; 

And  for  the  tender  names  of  child  and  daughter^ 

Now  calls  me  murderer  and  parricide. 

Mourning  Bride,  ail  4.  fc.  7. 
Plaintive  pafllons  are  extremely  follicitous  for  vent ; 
and  a  foliloquy  commonly  anfwers  the  purpofe  :  but 
when  fuch  a  paffion  becomes  exceflive,  it  cannot  be 
gratified  but  by  fympathy  from  others  ;  and  if  denied 
that  confolation  in  a  natural  way,  it  will  convert  even 
things  inanimate  into  fympathifing  beings.  Thus  Phi- 
lodtetes  complains  to  the  rocks  and  promontories  of  the 
ifle  of  Lemnos*;  and  Alceftes  dying,  invokes  the  fun, 
the  light  of  day,  the  clouds,  the  earth,  her  hufband's 
palace,  £fff.  f .  Mofchus,  lamenting  the  death  of  Bion^ 
conceives,  that  the  birds,  the  fountains,  the  trees,  la- 
Tit;nt  with  him  :  the  fliepherd,  who  in  Virgil  bewails  the 
death  of  Daphnis,  expreffeth  himfelf  thus  : 

Daphni,  tuum  Poenos  etiam  ingemuifTe  leones 
Interitum,  montefque  feri  fylvasque  loquuntur. 

Eclogue  V.  27. 
Again  : 

Ilium  etiam  lauri,  ilium  etiam  flevere  myricae, 
Pinifer  ilium  etiam  fola  fub  rupe  jacentem 
Masnalus,  ct  gelidi  fleverunt  faxa  Lycsei. 

Eclogue  X.  13. 
Again  : 

Ho  vifl.0  al  pianto  mio 
Refponder  per  pietate  i  fafll  e  I'onde  ; 
E  fofpirar  le  fronde 
Ho  vifto  al  pianto  mio. 
Ma  non  ho  vifto  mai, 
Ne  fpero  di  videre 
Companion  ne  la  crudele,  e  bella. 

Ami  lit  a  di  TaJJo,  ad  I.  fc.  2; 

That  fuch  perfonification  is  derived  from  nature,  will 

not  admit   the  leaft  remaining  doubt,  after  finding  it  in 

poems  of  the  darkeft  ages  and  remoteft  countries      No 

V°^   "• G 'figure 

*  Philo£letes  of  Sophocles,  aft  4.  fc.  2. 
t  Alceftes  of  Euripides,  adl  a.  fc.  i. 


■148  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

figure  is  more  frequent  in  Offian's  works  j  for  example, 
The  battle  is  over,  faid  the  King,  and  I  behold  the 

blood  of  my  friends.     Sad  is  the  heath  of  Lena,  and 

mournful  the  oaks  of  Cromla. 

Again  : 

The  fword  of  Gaul  trembles  at  his  fide,  and  longs  to 

glitter  in  his  hand. 

King  Richard  having  got  intelligence  of  Bolingbroke's 
inyafion,  fays,  upon   landing  in  England  from  his  Irifh 
:  expedition,  in  a  mixture  of  joy  and  refentmeiit, 

..     .  < I  weep  for  joy 

To  ftand  upon  my  kingdom  once  again. 
■  Dear  earth,  1  do  falute  thee  with  my  hand, 
Though  rebels  wound  thee  with  their  horfes  hoofs. 
As  a  long  parted  mother  with  her  child 
Plays  foadly  with  her  tears,  and  fmiles  in  meeting  ; 
So  weeping,  I'miling,  greet  I  thee,  my  earth, 
And  do  thee  favour  with  my  royal   hands. 
Fret  not  thy  fovereign's  foe,  my  gentle  earth. 
Nor  with  thy  fweets  comfort  his  rav'nous  fenfe  : 
■But  let  thy  fpiders  that  fuck  up  thy  venom, 
And  heavy-gaited  toads,  lie  in  their  way  ; 
Doing  annoyance  to  the  treach'rous  feet, 
Which  with  ufurping  fteps  do  trample  thee. 
Yield  dinging  nettles  to  mine  enemies  ! 
And,  when  they  from  thy  bofom  pluck  a  flower, 
Guard  it,  I  pr'ythee,  with  a  lurking  adder  ; 
Whofe  double  tongue  may  with  a  mortal  touch 
Throw  death  upon  thy  fovereign's  enemies. 
Mock  not  my  fenfelefs  conjuration.  Lords  ! 
This  earth  (hall  have  a  feeling  ;  and  thefe  ftones 
Prove  armed  foldiers,  ere  her  native  king 
Shall  fauher  under  foul  rebellious  arms. 

Richard  II.  a3  3.  fc.  2. 
After  a  long  voyage,  it  was  cuilomary  among  the 
antients  to  faiu:e  the  natal  foil.  A  long  voyage  being 
-«f  old  a  greater  enterprize  than  at  prefe.it,  the  fafe  re- 
turn to  one's  country  afrer  much  fatigue  and  danger, 
was  a  circumftance  extremely  delighttul  ;  and  it  was 
natural  to  give  the  natal  foil  a  temporary  life,  in  order 
to  fyrapaihife  with  the  traveller.     See  an  example,  J- 

gamemn(f!t 


Sea.  I.  Figures.  149 

gamemnon  of  iEfchilus,  aft  3.  in  the  beginning.  Re- 
gret for  leaving;  a  place  one  has  been  accuftomed  to, 
has  the  fame  effeft  *. 

Terror  produceth  the  fame  efFeft :  it  is  corannunica- 
ted  in  thought  to  every  thing  around,  even  to  things 
inanimate  : 

Speaking  of  Polyphemus, 
Clamorem  inimenfum  tollit,  quo  pontus  et  omnes 
Intremuere  undje,  penitufque  exterrita  tellus 
Italia.  JEneid.  iii.  673. 

— — — . — —  As  when  old  Ocean  roars, 

And  heaves  huge  furges  to  the  trembling  fliores. 

Iliad  ii.   249. 
And  thund'ring  footfteps  Jhake  the  founding  fhore. 

Iliad  ii.   549. 
Then  with  a  voice  that  Jhook  the  vaulted  (kies. 

Iliad  V.  43 1 , 
Go,  view  the  fettling  fea.     The  ftormy  wind  is  laid; 
but  the  billows  ftill  tremble  on  the  deep,  and  feem  to 
fear  the  blaft.  Fingal, 

Racine,  in  the  tragedy  of  Phcedra,  defcrlbing  the  fea- 
monfter  that  deftroy'd  Hippolytus,  conceives  the  fea  it- 
felf  to  be  ftruck  with  terror  as  well  as  the  fpedators : 

Le  fiot  qui  I'apporta  recule  epouvante. 

A  man  alfo  naturally  communicates  his  joy  to  all 
objeds  around,  animate  or  inanimate: 

'  As  when  to  them  who  fail 

Beyond  the  Cape  of  Hope,  and  now  are  pafl: 
Mozambic,  off  at  fea  north  eaft  winds  blow 
Sabean  odour  from  the  fpicy  fhore 
Of  Araby  the  Bleft ;  with  fuch  delay 
Well  pleas'd,  they  flack  their  courfe,  and  many  a  league 
Chear'd  with  the  grateful  fmeil  old  Ocean  fmiles. 

Paradife  lojl,  b.  4^. 
I  have  been  profufe  of  examples,  to  fliow  what  pow- 
er many  paffions  have  to  animate  their  objedts.     In  all 
the  foregoing  examples,  the  perfonification,  if  I  miftake 
G  2  not, 

*  Philotletes  of  Sophocles,  at  the  dofe. 


150  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

not,  is  fo  complete  as  to  afford  an  a(5tual  convidion, 
momentary  indeed,  of  lite  and  intelligence.  But  it  is 
evident  from  numberlefs  inftances,  that  perfonification 
is  not  always  fo  complete :  it  is  a  common  figure  in  de- 
icriptive  poetry,  underllood  to  be  the  language  of  the 
writer,  and  not  of  the  perfons  he  defcribes :  in  this 
cafe,  it  feldom  or  never  conies  up  to  conviction,  even 
xuomenrary,  of  life  and  intelligence.  I  give  the  fol- 
lovi^ing  examples. 

Firft  in  his  eait  the  glorious  lamp  was  feen, 

Regent  of  day,  and  all  th'horizon  round 

Inverted  with  bright  rays;  jocund  to  run 

His  longitude  through  heav'n's  high  road  :   the  gray 

Dawn,  and  the  Pleiades  before  hitn  danc'd, 

Shedoing  fweet  influence.     Lefs  bright  ihe  moon 

But  oppofite,  in  levelFd  weft  was  fet 

JHis  mirror,  with  full  face  borrowing  her  W^i 

From  him;  for  other  light.yZ-f  needed  none. 

Pavadife  leji,  h.  7.   /.  370  *. 
Night's  candles  are  burnt  out,  and  Jocund  day 
Stands  tiptoe  en  the  niifty  niountain-tops. 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  -afi  3.  fc,  J. 
But  look,  the  morn,   in  rufTet  mantle  clad, 
\Valks  o'er  the  dew  of  yon  high  eaftward  bill. 

Hamlet,  a£t  l.  fc   I. 

It  may,  I  prefume,  be  taken  for  granted,  that,  in  the 
foregoing  inftances,  the  perfonification,  either  with  the  ■ 
poet  or  his  reader,. a'.r.ounts  not  to  a  conviction  of  intel- 
ligence ;  nor  that  the  fun,  the  moon,  the  day,  the  morn, 
are  here  underftood  to  be  fenfible  beings.  What  then 
is  the  nature  of  this  perfonification  .''  I  thi.ik  it  muft  be 
referred  to  the  imagination  :  the  inanimate  objeft  is  ima- 
gined to  be  a  fenfible  being,  but  without  any  conviiHI- 
on,  even  for  a  moment,  that  it  really  is  fo.     Ideas  or 

fidliong  >. 


*  The  chaftity  of  the  Eugb'ih  language,    which  in  i 
common  ufage  diftinguifhes  by  genders  no    words  but  "- 
vhat  fignify  beings  male  and- female,  gives  thus  a  fine 
opportunity  for  the  profbpopceia  ;  a  beauty  unknown  in 
ottier  language.s,  wher^  every  word  is  jnafcaline  or  fe- 
minine. 


Se^.T.  F  I  G  u  R  E  5.  ijr 

nflions  of  imagination  have  power  to  raife  emotions  in 
the  mind  f ;  and  when  any  thing  inanimate  is,  in  ima- 
gination, fuppofed  to  be  a  fenfible  being,  it  makes  by 
that  means  a  greater  figure  than  when  an  idea  is  formed 
of  it  according  to  truth.  The  elevation,  however,  iti 
this  cafe,  is  far  from  being  equal  to  what  it  is  when  the 
perfonification  amounts  to  adual  conviction.  Thus  per- 
fonification  is  of  two  kinds.  The  firft,  or  nobler,  may- 
be termed  pajjionate  perfonification  :  the  other,  or  more 
humble,  defcriptinje  perfonification  ;  becaufe  feldom  or 
ftever  is  perfonification  in  a  defcription  carried  to  tho 
length  of  convidtion. 

The  imagination  is  fo  lively  and  aflive,  that  its  ima- 
ges are  railed  with  very  little  effort  ;  and  this  juftifiea 
the  freauent  ufe  of  defcriptive  perfonification.  Thia 
figure  abounds  in  Milton's  Allegro  and  Penferofo. 

Abftradt  and  general  terms,  as  well  as  particular  ob- 
jects, are  often  neceflary  in  poetry.     Such  terms  how- 
ever are  not  well  adapted  to  poetry,  becaufe  they  fug- 
ged not  any  image :  I  can  readily  form  an  image  of  A- 
lexander  or  Achilles  in  wrath  ;  but  I  cannot  form  ara 
image  of  wrath  in  the  abllraft,  or  of  wrath  independenc 
of  a  perfon.     Upon  that  account,  in  works  addiefTed 
to  the  imagination,  abftraft  terms  are  frequently  perfo- 
nified  :  but  fuch  perfonification  refts  upon  imaginatiom- 
merely,  not  upon  conviction  : 
Sed  mihi  vel  Tellus  optem  pirns  ima  dehifcat ; 
Vel  Pater  omnipotens  adigat  me  fulmine  ad  umbras, 
Pallentes  umbras  Erebi,  noCtemque  profundani. 
Ante  pudor  quam  te  violo,  aut  tua  jura  refolvo. 

JEneid.  iv.  /.  24.' 
Thus,  to  explain  the  efFeCts  of  flander,  it  is  imagined 
to  be  a  voluntary  agent : 

No,  'tis  Slander  j 

Whofe  edge  is  (harper  than  the  fword  j  whofe  tongtt^- 
Out-venoms  all  the  worms  of  Nile ;  whofe  breath 
Rides  on  the  pofting  winds,  and  doth  belie 
All  corners  of  the  world,  kings,  queens,  and  ftates. 
Maids,  matrons  :  nay,  tiie  fecrets  of  the  grave 
^ Gy This 

_  t  See  appendix,  containing  definitions  and  explansi- 
tion  terras,  §  28. 


152  Figures.  Ch.  XX.. 

This  viperous  Slander  enters. 

Shnkefpeart  Cymbeline,  ait  3.  fc.  4. 
As  alfo  human  pafTions:   take  the  following  example: 
•  ■-     ■        For  Plenfure  and  Ret'enge 
Have  ears  more  deaf  than  adders,  to  the  voice^ 
Of  any  true  decifion. 

Troilus  and  CreJJidat  a£l  2.  Jc  4. 
Virgil  explains  fame  and  its  effeds  by  a  ftili  greater  va- 
riety of  aftion*.     And  Shakefpear  perfonifies  death  and 
its  operations  in  a  manner  extremely  fanciful  : 

'. Within  the  hollow  crown 

That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king, 

Keeps  Death  his  court ;  and  there  the  antic  fits. 

Scoffing  his  ftate,  and  grinning  at  his  pomp; 

Allowing  him  a  breath,  a  litde  Icene 

To  monarchize,  be  fear'd,  and  kill   with  looks  1 , 

Infufing  him  with  felf  and  vain  conceit 

As  if  his  flefh,  which  walls  about  our  life. 

Were  brafa  impregnable ;  and  humour'd   thus. 

Comes  at  the  laft,  and  with  a  little  pin 

Bores  through  his  caftle-walls,  and  farewell  king.. 

Richard  II.  a£l  3.  fc.  4.. 

Not  lefs  fuccefsfully  is  life  and  a£Hon  given  even  to  fleep: 
King  Henry.  How  many  thoufands  of  my   pooreft 
fubjefts 
Are  at  this  hour  afleep !  O  gentle  Sleep, 
Nature's  foft  nurfe,  how  have  1  frighted  thee, 
That  thou  no  more  wilt  weigh  my  eye-lids  down. 
And  fteep  my  fenfes  in  forgetfulnefs? 
"Why  rather,  Sleep,  ly'ft  thou  in  fmoky  cribs. 
Upon  uneafy  pallets  ftretching  thee, 
And  hufli'd  with  buzzing  night-flies  to  thy  flumber, 
Than  in  the  perfum'd  chambers  of  the  great. 
Under  the  canopies  of  coltly  ftate. 
And  luU'd  with  founds  of  fweeteft  melody  ? 
O  thou  dull  god,  why  ly'ft  thou  with  the  vile 
In  loathfome  beds,  and  leav'ft  the  kingly  couch, 
A  watch- cafe  to  a  common  larum  bell  ? 
Wilt  thou,  upon  the  high  and  giddy  maft, 

Seal 

*  ^peid.  iv.   173. 


Scft.  I.  Figures.  iS3- 

Seal  up  the  (hip-boy's  eyes,  and  rock  his  brains 
In  cradle  of  the  rude  imperious  furge, 
And  in  the  vifitation  of  the  winds, 
Who  take  the  ruffian  billows  by  the  top, 
Curling  their  monftrous  heads,  and  hanging  them 
With  deaf  ning  clamours  in  the  flipp'ry  (hrouds. 
That,  with  the  hurly,  Death  itfelf  awakes? 
Can'ft  thou,  O  partial  Sleep,  give  thy  repofe 
To  the  wet  fea-boy  in  an  hour  To  rude ; 
And,  in  the  calmeft  and  the  ftilleft  night, 
With  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot. 
Deny  it  to  a  king  ?  Then,  happy  low  !  lie  down  j 
Uneafy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown. 

Second  part,  Henry  IV.  ad  3.  fc.  I. 

I  fliall  add  one  example  more,  to  fhow  that  defcriptive 
perfonification  may  be  ufed  with  propriety,  even  where 
the  purpofe  of  the  difcourfe  is  inftruQion  merely: 

Oh!  let  the  fteps  of  youth  be  cautious, 

How  they  advance  into  a  dangerous  world  ; 

Qur  duty  only  can  condudl  us  fafe : 

Our  paffions  are  feducers :  but  of  all, 

The  llrongeft  Lo^ve :  he  firft  approaches  us  ' 

In  chlldilh  play,  wantoning  in  our  wtlks: 

If  heediefsly  we  wander  after  him. 

As  he  will  pick  out  all  the  dancing-way. 

We're  loft,  and  hardly  to  return  again.  ; 

We  fhould  take  warning:  he  is  painted  blind, 

To  fhew  us,  if  we  fondly  follow  him. 

The  precipices   we  may  fall  into. 

Therefore  let  Virtue  take  him  by  the  hand: 

Directed  fo,  he  leads  to  certain  joy.  Soutbent. 

Hitherto  fuccefs  has  attended  our  fteps  ;  but  whe- 
ther we  (hall  complete  our  progrefs  with  equal  fuccefs, 
feems  doubtful  j  for  though  it  was  to  be  expeded  that 
by  this  time  every  difficulty  ffiould  be  over,  yet  when  we 
look  back  to  the  expreffions  mentioned  in  the  beginning, 
thirfty  ground,  furious  dart,  and  fuch  like,  it  feems  not 
lefs  difficult  than  at  firft  to  fay  wheiher  there  he  here 
any  fort  of  perfonilication.  Such  expreffions  evidently 
raife  not  the  flighteft  conviftion  of  fenfibility :  nor  do  I 
think  they  amount  to  defcriptive  perfonification;  be- 
G  4  cauft. 


-15+  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

caufe,  in  them,  we  do  not  even  figure  the  ground  or  the 
dart  to  be  animated.  If  fo,  they  cannot  at  all  come  un- 
der the  prefent  fubjeQ.  And  to  fhew  more  cleaily  that 
they  cannot,  I  fliall  endeavour  to  explain  what  efFedt 
Aich  exprelhons  have  naturally  upon  the  mind.  In  the. 
expreflion  angry  ocean,  for  example,  do  we  not  tacitly 
compare  the  ocean  in  a  ftoiin  to  a  man  in  wrath  .''  It  is 
by  this  tacit  comparifon  that  the  exprtlhon  acquires  a 
force  or  elevation,  above  what  is  found  in  an  epithet 
proper  to  the  objed  :  which  comparifon,  though  tacit 
only,  excludes  perfonification  j  becaufe,  by  the  very 
nature  of  comparifon,  tlie  things  compared  are  kept  di- 
ftintl,  and  the  native  appcaiance  of  each  is  prefervtd. 
It  will  be  fhown  afterward,  that  expieffions  of  this  kind 
belong  to  another  figure,  which  I  term  a  figure  of  fpeecbf 
and  which  employs  the  feventh  ftdion  of  the  prefent 
chapter. 

Though  thus  in  general  we  can  diftinguifli  defcriptive 
perfonification  from  what  is  merely  a  figure  of  fpeech, 
it  is  however  often  difficult  to  fay,  with  refpcdt  to  fome 
exprefllons,  whether  they  be  of  the  one  kind  or  of.  the 
other.     Take  the  following  inftances. 

The  moon  fhines  bright  :  in  fuch  a  night  as  this. 
When  the  fweet  wind  did  gently  kifs  the  trees. 
And  they  did  make  ho  noife  ;  in  fuch  a  nighr, 
Troilus  methinks  mounted  the  Trojan  w^ll, 
And  figh'd  his  foul  towards  the  Grecian  tencs 
Where  Crellid  lay  that  night. 

Merchant  of  Fsnke,  ail  5.  fc.  I. 

. — I  have  feen 

Th'  ambitious  ocean  fwell,  and  rage,  and  foam, 
To  be  exalted  with  the  threatening  clouds. 

Julius  C(pfart  a8  l.  fc.  6. 

vyith  refpedl  to  thefe  and  numberlefs  other  inftances  of 

thfe  fame  kind,  it  muft  depend  upon  the  reader,  whe- 
.  ther  they  be  examples  of  perfonification,  or  of  a  figure 
.  of  fpeech  merely:  a  fprightly  imagination  will  advance 

them  to  the  former  clafs  j  with  a  plain  reader  they  will 

remain  to  the  latter. 

Having  thus  at  large  explained  the  prefent  figure,  its 
different  kinds,  and  the  principles  from  wbcjjce  deilvedj 

what 


S^e£l.T.  Figures,  15^ 

what  comes  next  in  order  is,  to  fhew  in  wliat  cafes  it 
may  be  introduced  with  propriety,  when  it  is  fuitable, 
^hen  unfuitable.     1  begin  with  obferving,  that  paffio- 
nate  perfonification  is  not  promoted  by  every  paffion  in- 
differently.   All  difpiriting  paffions  are  averfe  to  it ;  and 
remorfe,  in  particular,  is  too  ferious  and  fevere  to  be 
gratified  with  a  phantom  of  the  mind.     I  cannot  there- 
fore approve  the  following  fpeech  of  Enobarbus,  wE« 
htd  deferted  his  mafter  Antony  : 
Be  witnefs  to  me,  O  thou  blefTed  moon. 
When  men  revolted  ihall  upon  record 
Bear  hateful  memory,  poor  Enobarbus  did 

Before  thy  face  repent 

Oh  fovereign  miftrefs  of  true  melancholy. 

The  polfonous  damp  of  night  difpunge  upon  me^  -  - 

That  life,  a  very  rebel  to  my  will. 

May  hang  no  longer  on  me. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra.,  aSl  4.  fc.  7,' 
If  this  can  be  juftified,  it  muft  be  upon  the  Heathea 
fyftem  of  theology,  which  converted  into  deities  the  fun, 
moon,  and  ftars. 

Secondly,  After  a  paflionate  perfonification  is  proper- 
ly introduced,  it  ought  to  be  confined  to  its  proper  pro- 
ytnce,  that  of  gratifying  the  pafHon,  without  giving 
place  to  any  fentiment  or  aftion  but  what  anfwers  that 
purpofe  ;  for  perfonification  is  at  any  rate  a  bold  figure, 
and  ought  to  be  employ'd  with  great  referve.  The  paf- 
fion  of  love,  for  example,  in  a  plaintive  tone,  may  give 
a  momentary  life  to  woods  and  rocks,  in  order  to  make 
them  fenfible  of  the  lover's  diftrefs  :  but  no  paffion  will 
fupport  a  conviction  fo  far  ftretched,  as  that  thefe  woods 
and  rocks  fliould  be  living  witneffes  to  report  the  dif- 
trefs to  others '; 

Gh'i'  t'ami  piu  de  la  mia  vita, 

Se  tu  nol  fai,  crudele, 

Chie  dilo  a  quefte  felve 

Che  t'el  diranno,  et  t'el  diran  con  effe 

Le  fere  loro  e  i  duri  fterpi,  c  ifaft 

Di  quefti  alpeftri  monti, 

Ch'i'  ho  fi  fpeffe  volte 

Inteneriti  xl  fuon  de'  miei  lamenti. 

PaJ}or  Fido,  a3  I.  ft.  J. 


156  Figures.  Ch.  XX^, 

No  lover  who  is  not  crazed  wiil  utter  fuch  a  /entlment: 
it  is  plainly  the  operation  of  the  writer,  indulging  his 
inventive  faculty  without  regard  to  nature.  The  fame 
obfervation  is  applicable  to  the  following  paflage  : 

In  winter's  tedious  nights  fit  by  the  fire 

"With  good  old  folks,  and  let  them  tell  thee  tales  ■ 

Of  wot'ul  ages,  long  ago  betid : 

And  ere  thou  bid  good  night,   to  quit  their  gtief, . 

Tell  them  the  lamentable  fall  of  me, 

And  fend  the  hearers  weeping  to  their  beds. 

For  why  !   the  fenfelefs  brands  will  fympatbife 

The  heavy  accent  of  thy  moving  tongue, 

And  in  coropaffion  weep  the  fire  out. 

Richard  \\.  a3  ^.  fc.  l: 

One  muft  read  this  paflage  very  ferioufly  to  avoid  laugh- 
ing. The  following  palTage  is  quite  extravagant  :  the 
different  parts  of  the  human  body  are  too  intimately  con- 
netted  with  felf,  to  be  perfonified  by  the  power  of  any 
pafilon;  and  after  converting  fuch  a  part  into  a  fenfible 
being,  it  is  ftill  worfe  to  make  it  be  conceived  as  rifing 
in  rebellion  againft  lelf  : 

Cleopatra.  Hafle,  bear  my  arm,  and  roufe  the  fer- 
pent's  fury. 

Coward  flefh 

Wouldft  thou  confpire  with  Csefar,   to  betray  me,-, 
As  thou  wert  none  of  mine }  I'll  force  thee  to't. 

Dryden,  All  for  Lo'ue,  ad  5. : 

Next  comes  defcriptive  perfonification  ;  upon  which  » 
I  muft  obferve,  in  general,  that  it  ought  to  be  cauti* 
oufly   ufed.     A  perfonage  in  a  tragedy,  agitated  by  a 
llrong  paffion,  deals  in  warm  fentimenis;  and  the  read- ~ 
er,  catching  fire  by  fympaihy,  relifheth  the  boldeft  per- 
fonifications :   but  a  writer,  even  in  the  moft  lively  def- 
cription,  taking  a  lower  flight,  ought  to  content  himfelf 
wiih  fuch  eafy  perfonifications  as  agree  with  the  tone  of 
mind  infpiied  by  the  defcription.     Nor  is  even  fuch  ea- 
fy perfonification  always  admitted  ;  for   in  plain  narra- 
tive, the  mind,  ferious  and  ledate,  rejeds  perfonificati- 
on altogether :  Strada,  in  his  hittory  of  the  Belgic  wars, 
has  the  following  pafFage,  which,  by  a  ftrained  elevation 
above  the  tone  of  the  lubjea,  deviates  into  burlefque. 
.  Vii' 


Sea. I.  Figure  s.  15 V 

Vix  defcenderat  a  praetoria  navi  Csfar  j  cum  foeda  ili- 
co  exorta  in  portu  tempeftas,  clafTem  impetu  disjecit,  prae- 
toriam  haufit ;  quafi  non  vefturain  amplius  Cffifarem, 
CaefariTque  fortunam.  Dec.  i.  /.  i. 

Neither  do  I  approve,  in  Sliakefpear,    the  fpeech   of 
King  John,  gravely  exhorting  the  citizens  of  Anglers  to 
a  furrender ;  though  a  tragic  writer  has  much  greater 
latitude  than  a  hillorian.     Take  the  foliov/ing  fpecimeu 
of  this  fpeech. 
The  cannons  have  their  bovi^els  full  of  wrath ;    " 
And  ready  mounted  are  they  to  fpit  forth 
Their  iron- indignation  'gainll  your  walls. 

Ad  2.  fc.  3;  - 
Secondly,  If  extraordinary  marks  of  refpeft  to  a  per- 
fon  of  low  rank  be  ridiculous,  not  lefs  fo  is  the  peifo- 
nihcation  of  a  low  fubjeQ.  This  rule  chiefly  regards 
defcriptive  perfonification  ;  for  a  fubjedl  can  hardly  be 
low  that  is  the  caufe  of  a  violent  pafHon  ;  in  that  cir- 
cumftance,  at  leaft,  it  mufl  be  of  importance.  But  to 
aifign  any  rule  other  than  tafte  merely,  for  avoiding 
things  below  even  defcriptive  perfonification,  will,  I 
am  afraid,  be  a  hard  tafk.  A  poet  of  fuperior  genius, 
pofTelling  the  power  of  inflaming  the  mind,  may  take 
liberties  that  would  be  dangerous  for  others.  Homer 
appears  not  extravagant  in  animating  his  darts  and  ar- 
rows: nor  Thomfon  in  animating  the  feafons,  the  winds, 
the  rains,  the  dews;  he  even  ventures  to  animate  the 
diamond,  and  doth  it  with  propriety  : 

— — That  polifli'd  bright    ^^ 

And  all  its  native  luftre  let  abroad. 

Dares,  as  it  fparkles  on  the  fair-one's  bread,     • 

With  vain  ambition  emulate  her  eyes. 

But  there  are  things  familiar  and  bafe,  to  which  perfo- 
nification cannot  defcend  :  in  a  compofed  itate  of  mind, 
to  animate  a  lump  of  matter  even  in  the  moil  rapid 
flight  of  fancy,  degenerates  into  burlefque : 
How  now !  what  noife  !  that  fpirit's  poffeifed  with  hafte. 
That  wounds  th'unrefilling  pofl;ern  with  thefe  Ihokes, 
Shake/pear,  Meafure  for  Meafure,  ad  4.  Jc.  6* 

.  '    ' Or  from  the  fhore 

The  plovers  when  to  fcatter  o'er  the  heath, 

And 


158  F  I  G  u  R  £  s.  Ch.XX. 

And  fing  their  wild  notes  to  the  lift'ning  lo/ijle. 

Thomfon,  Spring,  I.  23.. 

Speaking  of  a  man's  hand  cut  off  in  battle : 
Te  decifa  fuum,  Laride,  dextera  qnserit  : 
Sennanimefquc  niicant  digiti;  ferrumque  retraQant, 

/Eneid.  X,   395. 

The  perfonification  here  of  a  hand  is  infufFerable,  efpe- 

cially  in  a  plain  narration:   not  to  mention  that  fuch  a 

trivial  incident  is  too  minutely  defcribed. 

The  fame  obfervation  is  applicable  to  abfkra6t  terms, 
which  ought  not  to  be  animated  unlefs  they  have  fonie 
natural  dignity.     Thomfon,  in  this  article,  is  extremely- 
iicentious  ;  witnefs  the  following  inttances  out  of  many.  J 
O  vale  of  blifs !  O  fofrly  fwelling  hills  ! 
On  which  the  pozver  of  cultivation  lies. 
And  joys  to  fee  the  wonders  of  his  toil. 

Summer ^  l.l\zyrl 
Then  fated  Hunger  hlAs  his  brother  Thirji 
Produce  the  mighty  bowl : 
Nor  wanting  is  the  brown  October,  drawa 
Mature  and  perfect,  from  his  dark  retreat 
Of  thirty  years  ;  and  now  his  honeji  front 
Flames  in  the  light  refulgent.  Autumn,  /.  jK 

Thirdly,  It  is  not  fufficient  to  avoid  improper  fub- 
jc£iS:  fome  preparation  is  neceflary,  in  order  to   roufe 
the  mind  ;  for  the  imagination  refufes  its  aid,  till  it  be 
warmed  at  leaft,  if  not  enflamed.    Yet  Thomfon,  with- 
out the  leaft  ceremony  or  preparation,  introduceth  ead 
feafon  as  a  fenfible  being  : 
From  brightening  fields  of  sether  fair  difclos'd. 
Child  of  the  fun,  refulgent  Summer  come?. 
In  pride  of  youth,  and  felt  through  Nature's  depth.. 
He  comes  attended  by  the  fultry  hours, 
And  ever- fanning  breezes,  on  his  way  j 
While  from  his  ardent  look,  the  turning  Spring  ■ 
Averts  her  blufhful  face,  ami  earth  and  fties 
All  fmiling,  to  his  hot  dominion  leaves. 

Summer^  1.  |] 
See  Winter  comes,  to  rule  the  vary'd  year, 
Sullen  and  fad  with  all  his  rifing  train^ 


Se6t.  I.  Figures.  rjy- 

Fapoursy  and  clouds,  and  fisrms.  Winter ^  I.  I. 

This  has  violently  the  air  of  writing  mechanically  with- 
out   tafte.     It  is  not  natural,  that  the  imagination  of  a 
writer  fhould  be  fo  much  heated  at  the  very  commence- 
ment ;  and,  at  any  rate,  he  cannot   e?tpe£l  fuch  du6tj- 
lity  in  his  readers.     But  if  this  praftice  can  be  juftified 
by  authority,  Thomfon  has  one  of  no  mean  note  ;  Vida 
begins  his  firll  eclogue  in  the  following  words: 
Dicite,  vos  Mufse,  et  juvenum  memorate  querelas  j 
Dicite  ;  nam  niotas  ipfas  ad  carmina  cautes 
Et  requielTe  fuos  perhibent  vaga  flumina  curfu3. 
Even  Shakefpearis  not  always  careful   to  prepare  the 
mind  for  this  bold  figure.    Take  the  following  inltance. 

— Upon  thefe  taxations, 

The  clothiers  all,  not  able  to  mainfain 
The  many  to  them  'longing,  have  put  off 
The   fpintlers,  carders,  fullers,  weavers ;  who. 
Unfit  for  other  life,  compell'd  by  hunger, 
And  lack  of  other  means,  in  defp'rate  manner 
Daring  th'event  to  th'  teeth,  are  all  in  uproar, 
And  Danger  ferves  among  them. 

Henry  VIII.  aa  I.  /f.  4. 

Fourthly,  Defcriptive  perfonification,  ftill  more  than 
what  is  paflionate,  ought  to  be  kept  within  the  bounds 
of  moderation.  A  reader  warmed  with  a  beautiful  fub- 
je£t,  can  imagine,  even  without  pafiion,  the  winds,  for 
example,  to  be  animated  :  but  ftill  the  winds  are  the 
fubjeftj  and  any  aiStion  afcribcd  to  them  beyond  or  con- 
trary to  their  ufual  operation,  appearing  unnatural,  fel- 
dom  fails  to  baniili  the  iUufion  altogether  :  the  reader's 
imagination  too  far  ftrained,  refufes  its  aid  ;  and  the  de- 
fcription  becomes  obfcure,  inftead  of  being  more  lively 
and  ftriking.  In  this  view,  the  following  palTage,  def- 
cribing  Cleopatra  on  fliipboard,  appears  to  me  excepti- 
onable. 

The  barge  flie  fat  in,  like  a  burnifh'd  throne. 
Burnt  on  the  water ;  the  poop  was  beaten  gold. 
Purple  the  fails,  and  fo  perfumed,  that 
The  winds  were  iove-fick  with  'em; 

Antony  and  Cleopatra^  nd  2,fc,  5.: 

The 


i6o  Figures.  Cfi.  XX. 

The  winds  in  their  impetuous  courfe  have  fo  much  the 
appearance  of  fury,  that  it  is  eafy  to  figure  them  wreak- 
ing their  refentmeiit  ag.iinft  their  enemies,  by  deftroy- 
ing  houfes,  fhips,  i^c.  j  but  to  figure  them  love-lick,, 
has  no  refemblance  to  them  in  any  circumflance.  In 
another  paflage,  where  Cleopatra  is  alfo  the  fabjet!,  the 
perfonification  of  the  air  is  carried  beyond  all  bounds: 

The  city  caft    - 

It3  people  out  upon  her;  and  Antony 
Inthron'd  i'th'marketplace,  did  fit  alone, 
•Whiftling  to  th'air,  which  but  for  vacancy,    . 
Had  gone  to  gaze  on  Cleopatra  too, 
And  made  a  gap  in  nature. 

y4ntony  and  Cleopatra,  aSl  2.  fc.  3. 
The  following  pejfonification  of  the  earth  or  foil  is  not 
Jefs  wild  : 
She  fhall  be  dignify'd  with  this  high  honour 
To  bear  my  Lady's  train  ;  left  the  bafe  earth 
Should  from  her  vefture  chance  to  fteal  a  kifs; 
And  of  fo  great  a  favour  growing  proud, 
Difdain  to  root  the  fummer-fwelling  flower,     . 
And  make  rough  winter  everlaftingly. 

Tijoo  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  a6l  2.  fc.  7. 
Shakefpear,  far  from-  approving   fuch   intemperance  of 
imagination,  puts  this  fpeech  in  the  mouth  of  a  ranting 
lover.     Neither  can  I  relifh  what  follows  : 
Omnia  quae,  Phoebo  quondam  nieditante,  beatus 
Audiit  Eurotas,  juflitque  edifcere  lauros, 
lUe  canit.  Virgil.  Buc.  x\.  82, 

The  chearfulnefs  fingly  of  a  paftoral  fong,  will  fcarce 
lupport  perfonification  in  the  loweft  degree.  But  ad- 
mitting, that  a  river-  gently  flowing  may  be  imagined  a 
fenfible  being  liftening  to  a  fong,  I  cannot  enter  into  the 
conceit  of  the  river's  ordering  his  laurels  to  learn  the 
(png  :  here  all  refemblance  to  any  thing  real  is  quite 
loft.  This  however  is  copied  literally  by  one  of  our 
greateft  poets  j  early  indeed,  before  maturity  of  tafte 
or  judgment  : 
Thames  heard  the  numbers  as  he  fiow'd  along, 
And  bade  his  willows  learn  the  moving  fong. 

Pope}  Pflflerah,  fajl.  14.  /.  3.- 
This 


Sea.  I.  Figure  s.-.  i6i 

This  author,  in  lipgr  years,  is  guilty  of  a  much  greater 
deviation  from  the  rule.  Dullnels  may  be  in  agined  a 
deity  or  idol,  to  be  worfhipped  by  bad  writers ;  but  then 
fome  fort  of  difguife  is  requifite,  fome  baflard  virtue 
niuft  be  beftow'd,  to  give  this  idol  a  plaullble  appear- 
ance. Yet  in  the  Dunciad,  DuUnefs,  without  the  Jeaft 
difguife,  is  made  the  objeft  of  worfhip  :  the  mind  re- 
jeds  fuch  a  fiction  as  unnatural ;  for  dullnefs  is  a  defe£t». 
of  which  even  the  dulleft  mortal  is  afhamed : 

Then  he:  great  tamer  of  all  human  art? 

Fiift  in  my  care,  and  ever  at  my  heart; 

DuUnefs!  wbofe  good  old  caufe  I  yet  defend, 

Vvith  whom  my  mufe  began,  with  whom  fhall  end, 

E'er  fmce  Sir  Fopling's  periwig  was  praife, 

To  the  laft  honours  of  the  Bull  and  Bays! 

O  thou  !  of  bus'nefs  the  diredling  foul ! 

To  this  our  head,  like  bias  to  the  bowl, 

Which,  as  more  pond'rous,  makes  its  aim  more  true, 

Obliquely  wadling  to  the  mark  in  view  :   . 

O  !  ever  gracious  to  perplex'd  mankind. 

Still  fpread  a  healing  miil  before  the  mind  : 

And,  left  we  err  by  Wit's  wild  dancing  light,   . 

Secure  us  kindly  in  our  native  night. 

Or,  if  to  wit  a  coxcomb  make  pretence, 

Guard  the  fure  barrier  between  that  and  fenfe; 

Or  quite  unravel  ail  the  reas'ning  thread. 

And  hang  fome  curious  cobweb  in  its  rtead  ! 

As,  forc'd  from  wind-guns,  lead  itfelf  can  fly. 

And  pond'rous  flugs  cut  fwiftly  through  the  fky  j 

As  clocks  to  weight  their  nimble  motion  owe, 

The  wheels  above  urg'd  by  the  load  below: 

Me  Emptinefs,  and  DuUnefs  could  infpire, 

And  were  my  elailicity,  and  fire.  B.\.  163. 

The  following  inftance  is  ftretched  beyond  all  refem- 
blance  :  it  is  bold  to  take  a  part  or  member  of  a  living 
creature,  and  to  bellow  upon  it  life,  volition,  and  adi- 
on :  after  animating  two  fuch  members,  it  is  flill  bolder 
to  make  one  envy  the  other ;  for  this  is  wide  of  any  re- 
femblance  to  reality: 

» ^-y  De  noUri  bact 

Meritamenti 


iSt  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

MeritamentI  fia  gludice  quella, 

Che  la  bocco  ha  piu  bella. 

Tutte  concordeniente 

Eleffer  la  beliffima  An)arilli  j 

Ed'  ella  i  fuoi  begli  occhi 

Dolcemenie  chinando, 

Di  modefto  roffb  tutta  fi  tinfe, 

E  moiiftrd  ben,  che  non  men  bella  e  dentr^    ■ 

Di  quel  che  fia  di  fuori  ; 

O  folic,  ch'el  bel  volto 

AvelTe  invidia  all'onorata  bocca, 

E  s'adornalTe  anch'  egli 

Delia  purpurea  fua  pompofa  vefta, 

Quafi  volelTe  dir,  fon  bello  anch'io. 

Pajior  Fido,  aS  1.  fc.   : 

Fifthly,  The  enthufiafm  of  paffion  may  have  the  ef- 
feft  to  prolong  pailionate  perfonification :  but  defcrip- 
live  perfonification  cannot   be  difpatched  in  too   few 
words;  a  circumftantiate  defcription  diffolves  the  charm, 
and  makes  the  attempt  to  perfooify  appear  ridiculous^ 
Homer  fucceeds  in  animating  his  darts  and  arrows  :  buM 
fuch  perfonification  fpun  out  in  a  French  tranflation,  is  » 
mere  burlefque  : 
Et  la  fleche  en  furie,  avide  de  fon  fang. 
Part,  vole  a  lui,  I'atteint,  et  lui  perce  le  flanc. 
Horace  fays  happily, 
Poft  equitem  fedet  atra  Cura. 

See  how  this  thought  degenerates  by  being  divided,  like 
the  former,  into  a  number  of  minute  parts : 

Un  fou-rempH  d'erreurs,  que  le  trouble  accompagne 
Et  malade  a  la  ville  ainfi  qu'  a  la  compagne. 
En  vain  monte  a  cheval  pour  tromper  fon  ennui, 
Le  Chagrin  monte  en  croupe,  et  galops- avec  lui. 
A  poet,  in  a  fliort  and  lively  exprefiion,  may  animate 
his  mufe,  his  genius,  and  even  his  verfe  :  but  to  ani- 
mate his  verfe,  and  to  addrefs  a  whole  epiftle  to  it,  as 
Boileau  doth*,  is  infupportable. 

The  following  paffage  is  not  lefs  faulty. 

f^'Epjftle  £0. 


Sc<5t.  ir.  F    I    G    U    R    E    3.  163" 

Her  fate  is  whifper'd  by  the  gentle  breeze, 

And  told  in  fighs  to  all  the  trembling  trees : 

The  trembling  trees,  in  ev'ry  plain  and  wood. 

Her  fate  remurmur  to  the  filver  flood  ; 

The  lilver  flood,  fo  lately  calm,  appears 

Swell'd  with  new  paflion,  and  o'erflows  with  tears? 

The  winds,  and  trees,  and  floods,  her  death  deplore. 

Daphne,  our  grief!  our  gloiy  !  now  no  more. 

Papers  Paftoraisy  iv.   61. 

Let  grief  or  love  have  the  power  to  animate  the  winds,, 
the  tree?,  the  floods,  provided  the  figure  be  difpatched 
in  a-fingle  expteflion:  even  in  that  cafe,  the  figure  fel- 
dom  has  a  good  cffeft  ;  becaufe  giief  or  love  of  the 
paltoral  kind,  are  caufes  rather  too  faint  for  fo  violent 
an  eff^edt  as  imagining  the  winds,  trees,  or  floods,  to  be 
fenfible  beings.  But  when  this  figure  is  deliberately 
fpread  out  with  great  regularity  and  accuracy,  through 
many  lines,  the  reader,  inllead  of  relifliing  it,  is  ftruck 
with  its  ridiculous  appearance. 

SECT.     II.        APOSTROPHE. 

THis  figure  and  the  former  are  derived  from  the 
fame  principle.  If,  to  humour  a  plaintive  paf- 
fion,  we  can  beftow  a  momentary  fenfibility  upon  an 
inanimate  objedt,  it  is  not  more  difiicult  to  beftow  % 
momentary  prefence  upon  a  fenfible  being  who  is  abfent; 

Hinc  Drepani  me  portus  et  illsetabilis  ora 
Accipit.     Hie,  pelagi  tot  tempeftatibus  adus, 
Heu  !  genirorem,  omnis  curse  cafufque  levamen, 
Amitto  Anchifen  :  hie  me  pater  optime  fefftim 
Deferis,  heu  !  tantis  nequicquam  erepte  periclis. 
Nee  vates  Helenus,  cum  multa  horrenda  moneret,. 
Hos  mihi  prsedixit  ludus ;  non  dira  Celaeno, 

JEneid,  iii,  7070 
Strike  the  harp  in  praife  of  Bragela,  whom  I  left  ia : 
the  ifle  of  mift,  the  fpoufe  of  my  love.  Doft  thou  raife 
thy  fair  face  from  the  rock  to  find  the  fails  of  Cuchullin.? 
The  fea  is  rolling  far  difl:ant,  and  its  white  foam  lliall 
deceive  thee  for  my  fails.  Retire,  for  it  is  night,  my 
love,  and  the  dark  winds  figh  in  thy  hair.  Retire  to  the 
hail  oi  my  foa.fts,  and  think,  of  the  times  that  are  paft  % 

for. 


1^4  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

for  I  will  not  return  till  the  ftoriii  of  war  is  gone.  O 
Connal,  fpeak  of  wars  and  arms,  and  fend  her  from  n\y 
mind;  for  lovely  with  her  lavenhair  is  the  white  bo- 
fom'd  daughter  of  Sorghin.  finga/,  6.  l. 

Speaking  of  Fingal  abfent, 

Happy  are  thy  people,  O  Fingal,  thine  arm  fhall  fight 
their  battles.  Thou  art  the  firlt  in  tlieir  dangers  ;  the 
wifefl  in  the  days  of  their  peace  :  thou  fpeakefl:,  and 
thy  thoufands  obey  ;  and  armies  tremble  at  the  found  of 
thy  fteel.     Happy  are  thy  people,  O  Fingal. 

This  figure  is  fometimes  joined  with  the  former:   things 
inanimate,   to  qualify  them  for  liltening  to  a  paffionate 
expoftulation,  are   not  only   perfonitied,  but  alio  con- 
ceived to  be  piefent : 
Et,  fi  fata  Deum,  fi  mens  non  laeva  fuifTet, 
Impulerat  ferro  Argolicas  fcedare  lateb'-^s: 
Irojaque  nunc  JiareSy  Priamique  arx  aha  waneres. 

JEneid.   ii.   54. 

Helena. Poor  Lord,  is't  I 

That  chafe  thee  from  thy  country,  and  expofe 

Thofe  tender  limbs  of  thine  to  the  event 

Of  none  fparing-war?  And  is  it  I 

That  drive  thee  from  the  fportive  court,  where  thoit  • 

Waft  fhot  at  with  fair  eyes,  to  be  the  mark 

Of  fmoky  muflcets  ."^   O  you  leaden  tnejjerigersy 

That  ride  upon  the  violent  fpeed  of  hre. 

Fly  with  falfe  aim  ;  pierce  the  ftili  moving  air 

That  fings  with  piercing  ;  do  not  touch  my  Lord  ! 

AWs  ivell  that  ends  ivell,  ad  3    jc.  4.  • 

And  let  them  lift  ten  thoufand  fwords,  faid  Nathos 
\vith  a  fmile  :  the  fons  of  car-borne  Ufnoth  will  never 
tremble  in  danger.  Why  doft  thou  roll  with  all  thy 
foam,  thou  roaring  fea  of  Ullin  ?  why  do  ye  turtle  on 
your  dark  wings,  ye  whittling  teaipefts  of  the  fky  ?  Do 
ye  think,  ye  fiorms,  that  ye  keep  Nathos  on  the  coaft? 
No ;  his  foul  detains  him  ;  children  of  the  night !  Al- 
tho3,  bring  my  father's  arras,  I3c.  Fingal. 

Whither  haft  thou  fled,  O  wind,  faid  the  King  of 
Morven  !  Doft  thou  ruftle  in  the  chambers  of  the  fouth, 
and  purfue  the  fhower  in  other  land.'??  Why  comeft  not 

thoa 


Seft.  III.  Figures.  165 

thou  to  my  fails,  to  the  blue  face  of  my  feas  ?  The  foe 
is  in  the  land  of  Morven,  and  the  King  is  abfent. 

Fingah 

Had:  thou  left  thy  blue  courfe  in  heaven*  golden-hair'd 
fon  of  the  (ky  !  The  weft  hath  opcn'd  its  gates;  the 
bed  of  thy  repofe  is  there.  The  waves  gather  to  be- 
hold thy  beauty  :  they  lift  their  trembling  heads  ;  they 
fee  thee  lovely  in  thy  fleep  ;  but  they  fhrinlc  away  with 
fear.  Reft  in  thy  ftiadowy  cave,  O  Sun  !  and  let  thy 
return  be  in  joy.  Fingal. 

Daughter  of  Heaven,  fair  art  thou  !  the  filence  of  thy 
face  is  pleafant.  Thou  comeft  forth  in  lovelinefs :  the 
ftars  attend  thy  blue  fteps  in  the  eaft.  The  clouds  re- 
joice in  thy  prefence,  O  Moon  !  and  brighten  their  dark- 
brown  fides.  Who  is  like  thee  in  heaven,  daughter  of 
the  night  }  The  ftars  are  aftiamed  in  thy  prefence,  and 
turn  afide  their  fpaikiing  eyes.  Whither  doft  thou  retire 
from  thy  courfe,  when  the  darknefs  of  thy  countenance 
grows?  Haft  thou  thy  hall  like  OfTian .''  Dwelleft  thou 
in  the  fiiadow  of  grief.''  Have  thy  fifters  fallen  from  hea- 
ven ?  and  are  they  who  rejoiced  with  thee  at  night,  no 
more  .''  — —  Yes,  they  have  fallen,  fair  light  ;  and  often 
doft  thou  retire  to  mourn.  — —  But  thou  thyfelf  Ihak, 
one  night,  fail ;  and  leave  thy  blue  path  in  heaven.  The 
ftars  will  then  lift  their  heads:  they,  who  in  thy  pre- 
fence were  aftiamed,  will  rejoice.  Fingal. 

This  figure,  like  all  others,  requires  an  agitation  of 
mind.  In  plain  narrative,  as,  for  example,  in  giving 
the  genaology  of  a  family,  it  has  no  good  effeft  : 

Fauno  Picus  pater  j  ifque  parentem 

T9;,Saturne,  refert  -,  tu  fanguinis  ultimus  audor. 

JEneid.  vii.  4.3. 

SECT.    III.      HYPERBOLE. 

IN  this  figure,  by  which  an  obje£l  is  magnified  or  di- 
miniihed  beyond  the  truth,  we  have  another  effect  of 
the  foregoing  principle.  An  objeQ  uncommon  with  ref- 
pedt  to  fize,  either  very  great  of  its  kind  or  very  little, 
ftrikes  us  with  furprife  ;  and  this  emotion  forces  upon 
the  mind  a  monieniary  conviQion  that  the  objed  is  great- 
er. 


i66  Figure  s.  Ch.  XX. 

er  or  lefs  than  it  is  in  reality*;  the  fame  efFe£t,  precife- 
]y,  attends  figurative  grandeur  or  iittlenefs  ;  and  hence 
the  h^'perbole,  which  expreires  that  momentary  convic- 
tion. A  writer,  taking  advantage  of  this  natural  delu. 
fion,  enriches  his  defcription  greatly  by  the  hyperbole  : 
and  the  reader,  even  in  his  coolell  moments,  relifhe* 
that  figure,  being  fenfible  that  it  is  the  operation  of  na» 
turc  upon  a  wann  fancy. 

It  cannot  have  efcaped  obfervation,  that  a  writer  is 
generally  more  fuccefsful  in  magnifying  by  a  hyperbole 
than  in  diminiihing.  The  reafon  is,  that  a  minute  ob- 
je£t  contra(5ts  the  mind,  and  fetters  its  power  of  imagi- 
nation ;  but  that  the  mind,  dilated  and  inflamed  with  a 
grand  objeft,  moulds  objetts  for  its  gratification  M'ith 
great  facility.  Longinus,  with  refpeft  to  a  dimini/hing 
hyperbole,  quotes  the  following  ludicrous  thought  from 
a  comic  poet:  "  He  was  owner  of  a  bit  of  ground  not 
**  larger  than  a  Lacedemonian  letter  f."  Bur,  tor  the 
reafon  now  given,  the  hyperbole  has  by  far  the  greater 
force  in  magnifying  objeftr ;  of  which  take  the  follow- 
ing examples  : 

For  all  the  land  which  thou  feeft,  to  thee  will  I  give 
it,  and  to  thy  feed  for  ever.  And  t  will  make  thy  leed 
as  the  dull  of  the  earth:  fo  that  if  a  man  can  number 
the  dull:  of  the  earth,  then  fiiall  thy  feed  alfo  be  num- 
bered. Gene/rs  xni.  15.  16. 
Ilia  vel  inta£ts  fegetis  per  funima  volaret 
Gramina;  nee  teneras  curfu  lafiflet  ariftas. 

/Eneie/.  vii.   SoB-f^ 

Atque  imobarathri  ter  gurgite  vaftoj 

Sorbet  in  abruptum  fluftus,  rurfufque  fub  auras 
Erigit  alternos,  et  (idera  veiberat  unda- 

Mneid.  iii.  \ztm.  j 
•  Horrificis  juxta  tonat  .^tna  minis,  ] 

Interdumque  atram  prorumpit  ad  aethera  nubem. 
Turbine  fumantem  piceo  et  candente  favilla: 
Attollitque  globos  flammarum,  et  fidera  lambit, .  1 

Mneid.  iii.   57'.  I 
Speaking 

♦  See  chap.  8. 

t  Chap.  31.  of  his  treatife  on  the  fubliice.  I 


Sea.  III.  F  I  G  u  R  r  s.  167 

Speaking  of  Polyphemus, 
_.  Ipfe  arduus,  altaque  pulfat 

Sidera.  Mneid,  iii.  619. 

««. When  he  fpeaks. 

The  air,  a  charter'd  libertine  is  ftill. 

HenryV.  a5l  I.  fc.  I. 

Now  ftiield  with  fiiield,  with  helmet  helmet  clos'd, 
To  armour  armour,  lance  to  larce  oppos'd, 
Hoft  againll:  hoft  with  (hadowy  fquadrons  drew. 
The  founding  darts  in  iron  tempefts  flew, 
Vidtors  and  vanquifli'd  join  promilcuous  cries. 
And  (hrilling  Ihouts  and  dying  groans  arifej 
"With  dreaming  blood  the  flipp'ry  fields  are  dy'd, 
^And  fliughter'd  heroes  fwell  the  dreadful  tide. 

Iliad,  iv.   508. 
The  following  may  alfo  pafs,  though  ftretched  pretty  far. 
E  conjungendo  a  temerario  ardlre 
Eftrema  forza,  e  infaticabili  lena 
Vien  che  fi'  impetuofo  il  ferro  gire, 
Che  ne  trcma  la  terra,  e'l  ciel  balena. 

GierufaUmme,  cant.  6.  y?.  46. 

Quintilian  *  is  fenfible  that  this  figure  is  natural ; 
**  For,"  fays  he,  *'  not  contented  with  truth,  we  na- 
**  turally  incline  to  augment  or  diminifh  beyond  it ;  and 
*'  for  that  reafon  the  hyperbole  is  familiar  even  among 
*'  the  vulgar  and  illiterate  ;"  and  he  adds,  very  juftly, 
**  That  the  hyperbole  is  then  proper,  when  the  fubjeft 
*'  of  itfelf  exceeds  the  common  meafure."  From  thefe 
premilTes,  one  would  not  expedt  the  following  inference, 
the  only  reafon  he  can  find  for  juftifying  this  figure  of 
fpeech,  "  Conceditur  enim  amplius  dicere,  quia  dici 
"  quantum  eft  non  poteft:  raeliufque  ultra  quam  citra 
"  flat  oratio."  (We  are  indulged  to  fay  more  than  e- 
nough,  becaufe  we  cannot  fay  enough ;  and  it  is  better 
to  be  above  than  under).  In  che  name  of  wonder,  why 
this  flight  and  childifli  reafoning,  after  obferving,  that 
the  hyperbole  is  founded  on  human  nature  :  I  could  not 
refill  this  perfonal  ftroke  of  criciciim  ;  intended  not  a- 
gainft  our  author,  forno  human  creature  is  exempt  from 

error, 

*  L.  8,  cap.  6,  in  fin. 


i6B  F  I  G  u  R  K  s.  Ch.XX. 

'«rror,  but  againfl;  the  blind  veneration  that  is  paid  to 
the  antient  clafTic  writers,  without  diftinguifhing  their 
bleniifhes  from  their  beauties. 

Having  examined  the  nature  of  this  figure,  and  the 
principle  on  which  ic  is  erefled,  I  proceed,  as  in  the 
firft  fedlion,  to  the  rules  by  which  ic  ought  to  be  go- 
verned. And,  in  the  firft  place,  it  is  a  capital  fault,  to 
introduce  an  hyperbole  in  the  defcription  of  any  thing 
ordinary  or  familiar;  for  in  fuch  a  cafe,  it  is  altogether 
unnatural,  being  deftitute  of  fuip-ife,  its  only  founda- 
tion. Take  the  following  inftance,  where  the  fubje<ft 
is  extremely  familiar,  tviz.  fwimiuing  to  gain  the  fliore 
after  a  fhipwreck.  „ 

I  faw  hiin  beat  the  furges  under  him,  '\ 

And  ride  upon  their  backs  ;  he  trode  the  water; 
Whofe  enmity  he  flung  afide,  and  breafted 
The  furge  moft  fwoln  that  met  hira  :  his  bold  head 
'Bove  the  contentious  waves  he  kept,  and  oat'd 
Himfelf  with  his  good  arms,  in  hilVy  Icrokes 
To  tWJhore,  that  o'er  his  wave  borne  balls  bow'd. 
As  ftooping  to  relieve  him.  Tempejl,  a£l  2.  fc.  i. 

In  the  next  place,  ic  may  be  gathe.-ed  froHi  what  is 
faid,  that  an  hyperbole  can  never  fiiit  tlie  tone  of  any 
difpiriting  paffion  :  forrow  in  particuiar  will  never  prompt 
fuch  a  figure ;  and  for  that  reafon  the  following  hyper- 
boles mail  be  condemned  as  unnatural. 

K.  Rich.  Au merle,  thou  weep'tt,  my  tender-hearted 
coufin  .' 
We'll  make  foul  weather  with  defpifed  tears  ; 
Our  fighs,  and  they,  /hall  lodge  the  fummer-corn, 
And  make  a  dearth  in  this  revolting  land. 

Richard  II.  aa  3.  fr.  6. 

[  Draw  them  to  Tyber's  bank,  and  v/eep  your  tears 
Into  the  channel,  till  the  loweft  ftrcam 
Do  kifs  the  moft  exalted  fliores  of  all. 

Julius  Co-far,  ad  \.  fc.  I . 

Thirdly,  A  writer,  if  he  wifh  to  fucceed,  ought  al- 
ways to  have  the  reader  in  his  eye:  he  ought  in  parti- 
cular never  to  venture  a  bold  thought  or  expreflion,  till 
the  reader  be  warmed  and  prepared  For  that  realon, 
an  hyperbole  In  the  beginning  of  a  work  can  never  be 
in  its  place.     Example:  Ja"^ 


Sea.  III.  Figures.  169 

Jam  pauca  aratro  jugera  regias 

Moles  relinquent.  Horat.  Carm.  lib.  2.  ode  i  5. 

The  niceft  point  of  all,  is  to  afcertain  the  natural  li- 
tnits  of  an  hyperbole,  beyond  which  being  overftrained 
it  hath  a  bad  cfFeft.  Longinus,  in  the  above-cited  chap- 
ter, with  great  propriety  of  thought,  enters  a  caveat  a- 
gainft  an  hyperbole  of  that  kind  :  he  compares  it  to  a 
bow-ftring.  which  relaxes  by  overftraining,  and  produ- 
ceth  an  effeft  direflly  oppofite  to  what  is  intended.  To 
afcertain  any  precife  boundary,  would  be  difficult,  if 
not  impra£ticable-  Mine  fliall  be  an  humbler  ta(k,  which 
is,  to  give  a  I'pecimen  of  what  I  reckon  overftrained  hy- 
perboles ;  and  I  fliall  be  extremely  curt  upon  them,  be-, 
caufe  examples  are  to  be  found  every  where :  no  fault 
is  more  common  among  writeis  of  inferior  rank;  and 
inftances  are  found  even  among  claflical  writers ;  wit- 
nefs  the  following  hyperbole,  too  bold  even  for  an 
Hotfpur. 

Hotfpur,  talking  of  Mortimer  : 
In  fingle  oppofition  hand  to  hand, 
He  did  confound  the  beft  part  of  an  hour 
In  changing  hardiment  with  great  Glendower, 
Three  times  they  breath'd,  and  three  times  did  they 

drink, 
Upon  agreement,  of  fwift  Severn's  flood; 
Who  then  affrighted  with  their  bloody  looks, 
Ran  fearfully  among  the  trembling  reeds. 
And  hid  his  crifp'd  head  in  the  hollow  bank. 
Blood- ftained  with  thefe  valiant  combatants. 

Fir Jl  party  Henry  IV.  ad  I.  fc.  4. 
Speaking  of  Henry  V, 
England  ne'er  had  a  king  until  his  time : 
Virtue  he  had,  deferving  to  command  ; 
His  brandifh'd  fword  did  blind  men  with  its  beams: 
His  arms  fpread  wider  than  a  dragon's  wings  : 
His  Iparkling  eyes,  replete  with  awful  fire. 
More  dazzled,  and  drove  back  his  enemies, 
Than  mid  day  fun  fierce  bent  againft  their  faces. 
What  ftiould  I  fay?  his  deeds  exceed  all  fpeech : 
He  never  lifted  up  his  hand,  but  conquer'd. 

Firji  part,  Henry  \1.  ad  i.  fc.  i. 

Se 


lyo  F  T  G  U  H  E  €.  Ch.  XX. 

Se  tutu  gli  alberi  del  mondo  foflTcio  penne, 
II  cielo  folfe  carta,  il  mare  inchowro, 
Non  ba'leriano  a  defcrivcre  la  minima 
Parte  delle  voftre  perfettioni. 

Se  tante  lingue  havefll,  e  tante  voci, 
Quant'  occhi  il  cielo,  e  quante  arer.e  il  mare, 
Perderian  tutto  il  fuono,  e  la  favella 
Nel  dire  a  pieno  le  voftri  lodi  iiumenfi.  Guarini. 

It  is  obfervable  that  a  hyperbole,  even  the  moft  ex- 
travagant, generally  produces  fome  emotion:  the  pre- 
fent  hyperbole  is  an  exception  j  and  the  real'on  is,  that 
numbers,  in  which  the  extravagance  entirely  confifts, 
make  no  impreffion  upon  the  imagination  v/hen  tfaey  ex- 
ceed what  can  eafily  be  conceived. 

-'Laftly,  An  hyperbole,  after  it  is  introduced  with  all 
advantages,  ought  to  be  comprehended  within  the  few- 
eft  words  poffible:  as  it  cannot  be  relifhed  but  in  the 
hurry  and  fwelling  of  the  mind,  a  leifurely  view  dif- 
folves   the  charm,  and  difcovers  the  defcription  to  be 
extravagant  at  leaft,  and  perhaps  alfo  ridiculous.     This 
fault  is  palpable  in  a  fonnet  which  pafTeth  for  one  of  the 
mod  complete   in   the  French   language :  Phillis,  in  a 
long  and  florid  defcription,  is  made  as  far  to  outfhine  the 
fun  as  he  outfhines  the  ftars : 
Le  filence  regnoit  fur  la  terre  et  fur  Fonde, 
L'air  -devenoit  ferain  et  I'Olimpe  vermeil, 
Et  ramoureux  Zephir  affranchi  du  fomeil, 
RelTufcitoit  les  fleurs  d'une  haieine  feconde. 
L'Aurore  deployoit  I'or  de  fa  treffe  blonde, 
Et  femoit  de  rubis  le  chemin  du  foleil ; 
Enfin  ce  Dieu  venoit  au  plus  grand  appareil 
Qu'il  foit  jamais  venu  pour  eclairer  le  monde: 

Quand  la  jeune  Phillis  au  vifage  riant, 
Sortant  de  fon  palais  plus  clair  que  I'orient, 
Fie  voir  una  lumiere  et  plus  vive  et  plus  belle. 
[  Sacrd  flambeau  du  jour,  n'en  foiez  point  jaloux, 
Vous  parutes  alors  aufli  peu  devant  elle, 
Que  les  feux  de  la  nuit  avoient  fait  devant  vous. 

Malleville. 
There  is  in  Chaucer  a  thought  exprefl^'ed  in  a  fingle  line, 

which 


Sea.  V.  F  I  e  w  R  E  s.  171 

which  fets  a  young  beauty  in  a  more  advantageous  light, 
than  the  whole  of  this  much  laboured  poem  : 
Up  rofe  the  fun,  and  up  rofe  Emelie. 

SECT.      IV. 

The  means  or  injlrument  concei'ved  to  be  the  agent. 

WHen  we  furvey  a  number  of  objeds  connefted 
together,  that  which  makes  the  greateft  figure 
employs  chiefly  our  attention  ;  and  the  emotion  it  raifes, 
if  lively,  prompts  us  even  to  exceed  nature  in  the  con- 
ception we  form  of  it.    Take  the  following  examples. 

For  Neleus'  fon  Alcides'  rage  had  flain. 

A  broken  lock  the  force  of  Pirus  threw. 
In  thefe  inftances,  the  rage  of  Hercules  and  the  force 
of  Pirus,  being  the  capital  circumftances,  are  fo  far  ex- 
alted as  to  be  conceived  the  agents  that  produce  the 
effedts. 

In  the  following  inftances,  hunger   being  the  chief 
circumftance  in  the  defcription,  is  itfelf  imagined  to  be 
the  patient. 
Whofe  hunger  has  not  tafted  food  thefe  three  days. 

fane  Shore. 

•  •    ■    ■ As  when  the  force 

Of  fubterranean  wind  tranfports  a  hill.     Paradife  lofi. 

'  As  when  the  potent  rod 

Of  Amram's  fon,  in  Egypt's  evil  day 

Wav'd  round  the  coaft,  upcall'd  a  pitchy  cloud 

Of  locufts.  Paradife  lofi. 

SECT.       V. 

A  figure,  nvhich,  among  related  ohjeits.,  extends  the  prd' 
perties  of  one  to  another. 

THis  figure  is  not  dignified  with  a  proper  name, 
becaufe  it  has  been  overlooked  by  writers.  It 
meiitj,  however,  a  place  in  this  work  ;  and  muft  be 
diftinguiflied  from  thofe  formerly  handled,  as  depending 
on  a  different  principle.  Giddy  brink,  jo'vial  ivine,  da- 
ring nvound,  are  examples  of  this  figure.  Here  are  ad- 
jedives  that  cannot  be  made  to  fignityany  quality  of  the 
Vol,  II.  H  fubltantives 


172  Figures.  Ch.XX. 

fubftantives  to  which  they  are  joined :  a  brink,  for  ex- 
ample, cannot  be  termed  gifidy  in  a  fenfe,  either  proper 
or  figurative,  that  can  fignify  any  of  its  qualities  or  at- 
tributes. When  we  examine  attentively  the  exprefllon, 
■we  dilcover,  that  a  brink  is  termed  giddy  from  produ- 
cing that  efFedt  in  thofe  who  ftand  on  it:  in  the  fame 
manner  a  wound  is  faid  to  be  daring,  not  with  refpedl 
to  itfelf,  but  with  refpeft  to  the  bo!dnefs  of  the  perfon 
who  inflidts  it ;  and  wine  is  faid  to  be  jovial,  as  infpiring 
mirth  and  jollity.  Thus  the  attributes  of  one  fubjeft 
are  extended  to  another  with  which  it  is  connected  ;  and 
the  expreffion  of  fuch  a  thought  muft  be  confidered  as 
a  figure,  becaufe  the  attribute  is  not  applicable  to  the 
lubje£l  in  any  proper  fenfe. 

How  are  we  to  account  for  this  figure,  which  we  fee 
lies  in  the  thought,  and  to  what  principle  fhall  we  refer 
it  ?  Have  poets  a  privilege  to  alter  the  nature  of  things, 
and  at  pleafure  to  beftow  attributes  upon  a  fubjed  to 
which  they  do  not  belong  ?  We  have  had  often  occallon 
to  inculcate,  that  the  nrlind  paiTeth  eafily  and  fweetly 
along  a  train  of  conneded  objeds ;  and  where  the  ob- 
jects are  intimately  connected,  that  it  is  difpofed  to  carry 
along  the  good  or  bad  properties  of  one  to  another ;  ef« 
pecially  when  it  is  in  any  degree  inflamed  with  thefe 
properties  *  From  this  principle  is  derived  the  figure 
under  confideration.  Language,  invented  for  the  com- 
munication of  thought,  would  be  iuiperfect,  if  it  were  not 
expreflive  even  of  the  (lighter  propenfities  and  more  de- 
licate feelings :  but  language  cannot  remain  lo  imperfedl 
among  a  people  who  have  received  any  poliHi }  becaule 
language  is  regulated  by  internal  feeling,  and  is  gradually 
fo  improved  as  to  exprefs  whatever  palfes  in  the  mind. 
Thus,  for  example,  when  a  fword  in  the  hand  of  a  cow- 
ard, is  termed  a  cozvard  fivord,  the  exprellion  is  fignifi- 
cative  of  an  internal  operation  ;  for  the  mind,  in  pining 
from  the  agent  to  its  inftrument,  is  oi  pofed  to  extend 
to  the  latter  the  properties  of  the  former.  Governed 
by  the  fame  prii.ciole,  we  fay  lijhning  fear,  by  extend- 
ing the  attribute  lijfemng  of  the  man  who  lilkns,  to  the 
palTion  with  which  he  is  moved,  In  the  expreilion,  ^oA. 
*^  deed, 


See  chap    2.  part  1.  fed.  5. 


Sea.  V.  Figures.  173 

deetl,  or  audax  facinus,  we  extend  the  cfFeft  to  what 
properly  belongs  to  the  caufe.  But  not  to  wade  time 
by  making  a  commentary  upon  every  expreffion  of  this 
kind,  the  beft  way  to  give  a  complete  view  of  the  fub- 
je6l,  is  to  exhibit  a  table  of  the  different  relations  that 
may  give  occafion  to  this  figure.  And  in  viewing  that 
table,  it  will  be  obferved,  that  the  figure  can  never  have 
any  grace  but  where  the  relations  are  of  the  raofl  inti- 
mate  kind. 

I.  An  attribute  of  the  caufe  exprefled  as  an  attri- 
bute of  the  effed. 

Audax  facinus. 

Of  yonder  fleet  a  boU  difcovery  make. 

An  impious  mortal  gave  the  daring  wound. 

To  my  adventreus  fong. 

That  with  no  middle  flight  intends  to  foar. 

Paradife  loft. 

z.  An  attribute  of  the  efFed  exprefled  as  an  attribute 
of  the  caufe. 
Quos  periiflTe  ambos  mifera  cenfebam  in  mari. 

Plautus. 
No  wonder,  fallen  fuch  a  pernicious  height. 

Paradife  lofl. 

3.  An  eff"e£t  exprefled  as  an  attribute  of  the  caufe. 

Jovial  wine,  Giddy  brink,  Drowfy  night,  Mufing  mid- 
night, Panting  height,  Allonifh'd  thought,  Mournful 
gloom. 

Carting  a  dim  religious  light.  Milton  Comus. 

And  the  merry  bells  ring  round. 
And  the  jocund  rebecks  found.  Milton,  Allegro. 

4.  An  attribute  of  a  fubje<Sl  beftowed  upon  one  of 
its  parts  or  members. 

Longing  arms. 
It  v.'as  the  nightingale,  and  not  the  lark, 
That  pierc'd  the  fearful  hollow  of  thine  ear. 

Romeo  and  Juliet^  aS  3.  fc.  f. 

•  ■  Oh,  lay  by 

Thofe  moO:  ungentle  looks  and  angry  weapons; 
Unlefs  you  mean  my  griefs  and  killing  fears 

H  z  ShoultJ 


174  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

Should  ftretch  me  out  at  your  relentlefs  feet. 

Fair  Penitent,  a£l  3. 

And  ready  now 

To  ftoop  with  ivearied  wing,  and  ijuilling  feet, 
On  the  bare  outfide  of  this  world. 

Faradife  loft,  b.  3, 

5.  A  quality  of  the  agent  given  to  the  inftrument 
with  which  it  operates. 

Why  peep  your  coward  fwords  half  out  their  fliells.? 

6.  An  attribute  of  the  agent  given   to   the  fubjefk 
upon  v/hich  it  operates. 

High-climbing  hill.  Milton, 

7.  A  quality  of  one  fubjeiEl  given  to  another. 
Icci,  beatis  nunc  Arabum  invides 

Gazis.  Horat.   Carm.  I.  i.  ode  20. 

When  faplefs  age,  and  weak  unable  limbs, 
"Should  bring  thy  father  to  his  drooping  chair. 

Shakefpear,i 
By  art,  the  pilot  through  the  boiling  deep 
And  howling  tempeft,  lleers  the  fearlefs  (hip. 

Iliad  xxiii.  385./ 
Then,  nothing  loath,  th*  enamour'd  fair  he  led, 
''And  funk  tranfported  on  the  confcious  bed. 

Odyffey  viii.   337. 
h  ftupid  moment  motionlefs  (he  flood. 

Hummer,  I.   1336. ' 

8.  A  circumflance  connected  with  a  fubjeft,  exprefTed 
as  a. quality  of  the  fubjeft. 

Breezy  fummit. 
*Tis  ours  the  chance  oi  fighting  fields  to  try. 

Iliad  i.  301. 
Oh  I  had  I  dy'd  before  that  nvell  fought  wall. 

Odyftey  v.  395. 
From  this  table  it  appears,  that  the  exprelfing  an  ef- 
fe£t  as  an  attribute  cf  the  caufe,  is  not  fo  agreeable  as 
the  oppofite  exprelTion.  The  progrefs  from  caufe  to 
cffe6t  is  natural  and  eafy  :  the  oppolite  progrefs  refem- 
bles  retrogade  motion*  j  and  therefore  panting  height, 

ajhnifljd 

*  See  chap.  1. 


Sea:vr.         fj^g  u  r  e  s.  175 

ajionijh'd  thought,  are  drained  and  uncouth  expreflions, 
which  a  writer  of  talle  will  avoid. 

It  is  not  lefs  ftrained,  to  apply  to  a  fubjeft  in  its  pre- 
fent  Hate,  an  epithet  that  may  belong  to  it  in  fome  fu- 
ture ftate  : 

Submerfnfque  obrue  puppes.  JEneid.  i.  73. 

And  mighty  ruim  fall.  lUad  v.  41 1; 

Impious  fons  their  mangled  fathers  wound. 

Another  rule  regards  this  figure,  That  the  property 

of  one  fubjea  ought  not  to  be  beftow'd  upon  another 

with  which  that  property  is  incongruous : 

K^  Rich How  dare  thy  joints  forget 

To  pay  their  avjful  duty  to  our  prefence  ? 

Richard  II.  aci  ^-  fc  6. 
The  connexion  between  an  awful  fuperior  and  his  fubi 
miflive  dependent  is  fo  intimate,  that  an  attribute  may 
readily  be  transferred  from  the  one  to  the  other:  but 
awfulnefs  cannot  be  fo  transferred,  becaufe  it  is  incofi- 
fiitent  with  fubmiffion. 


SECT.     VI. 


Metaphor  and  Allegory. 


A  Metaphor  differs  from  a  fimile,  ia  form  only,  not 
m  fubttance:  in  a  fimile,  the  two  fubjeds  are  kept 
dillina  in  the  expreffion,  as  well  as  in  the  thought;  in 
a  metaphor,  the  two  fubjefls  are  kept  diftind  in  tliought 
only,  not  in  the  expieffion.  A  hero  refembles  a  iion, 
and  upon  that  refemblance  many  fimiles  have  been  made 
by_ Homer  and  other  poets.  But  inflead  of  relemblir.g 
a  hon,  let  us  take  the  aid  of  the  imagination,  and  feiga 
or  figure  the  hero  to  be  a  lion :  by  that  variation  the  fi- 
mile IS  converted  into  a  metaphor ;  which  is  carried  on 
by  defcribing  all  the  qualities  of  a  lion  that  refemble 
thofe  of  the  hero.  The  fundamental  pleafure  here, 
that  of  relemblance,  belongs  to  the  thought  as  diftin- 
guiihcd  from  the  expreffion.  An  additional  pleafure  a- 
nfes  tiom  the  expreffion  :  the  poet,  by  figuring  his  hero 
to  be  a  lion,  goes  on  to  defcribe  the  lion  in  appearance 
but  in  reality  the  hero  j  and  his  defcription  is  peculiarly 
beautiful,  by  expreffing  the  virtues  and  qualities  of  the 
iiero  in  new  terms,  which,  properly  (peaking,  bdoog  qot 
H  3  t©.. 


I'jS  Figures.  Ch  XX. 

to  him,  but  to  the  lion.     Tbfs  will  better  be  underftood 
bj  examples.     A  family  connected  with  a  common  pa- 
rent, refenibles  a  nee,  the  trunk  and  branches  of  which 
«re  connedted  with  a  common  root:  but  let  us  fuppofe, 
that  a  family  is  figured,  not  barely  to  be  like  a  tree,  but 
to  be  a  tree ;  and  then  the  fimile  will  be  converted  into 
a  metaphor,  in  the  following  maimer. 
Edward's  fev'n  fons,  whereof  thyfelf  art  one, 
Were  fev'n  fair  branches,  fpringing  from  one  root : 
Some  of  thefe  branches  by  the  deli'nies  cut^: 
But  Thomas,  my  dear  Lord,  my  life,  my  Glo'fter, 
One  flourifhing  branch  of  bis  moft  royal  root. 
Is  hack'd  down,  and  his  fummer-leaves  all  faded, 
Bv  Envy's  hand  and  Murder's  bloody  axe. 
^  ^  Richard  \\    aa  \.  fc.l. 

Figuring  human  life  to  be  a  voyage  at  fea  . 
There  is  a  tide   in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  Fortune  j  . 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  (hallows  and  in  miferies. 
On  fuch  a  full  fea  are  we  now  afloat ; 
And  we  muft  take  the  current  when  it^  ferves, 
Or  lofe  our  ventures.  Julius  Cerfar,  ad  4  fc  5. 

Figuring  glory  and  honour  to  be  a  garland  of  flowers : 

Hotfpur. ^Voultl  to  heav'n. 

Thy  name  in  arms  were  now  as  great  as  mine  ! 

Pr.  Henry.  I'll  make  it  greater,  ere  1  part  iiom  thee  ^. 
And  all  the  budding  honours  on  thy  cretr 
I'll  crop,  to  make  a  garland  for  my  head. 

f  2>/?  part.  He  my  IV.  ad  4.  fc  9. 
Figuring  a  man  who  hath  acquired  great  reputation  and 
honour  to  be  a  tree  full  of  fruit : 

Oh,  boys,  this  fl:ory 

The  world  may  read  in  me :  my  body's  mark'd 
With  Roman  fwords  ;  and  my  report  was  once 
Firft  with  the  bell  of  note.     Cymbeline  lov'd  me  ;. 
And  when  a  foldier  was  the  theme,  my  name 
Was  not  far  ofi^:  then  was  I  as  a  tree,  ^ 

Whofe  boughs  did  bend  with  fruit.    But  in  one  nigMr 
A  ftorm  or  robbery,  call  it  what  you  will. 
Shook  down  my  mellow  hangings,  nay  my  leaves ; 


Sea.  VI.  Figures.  177 

And  left  me  bare  to  weather. 

Cymheline,  aS  3.  fc.  3. 

Bleft  be  thy  foul,  thou  king  of  (hells,  faid  Swaran  of 
the  dark-brown  fliield.  In  peace  thou  art  the  gale  of 
fprincr  J  in  war  the  mountain-ftorm.  Take  now  my  hand 
in  friendfhip,  thou  noble  king  of  Morven.  FingaL 

Thou  dwelled:  in  the  foul  of  Malvina,  fon  of  mighty 
Oflian.  My  fighs  arife  with  the  beam  of  the  eaft  :  my 
rears  defcend  with  the  drops  of  night.  I  was  a  lovely 
tree  in  thy  prefence,  Ofear,  with  all  my  branches  round 
me  ;  but  thy  death  came  like  a  blall  from  the  delert,  and 
laid  my  green  head  low ;  the  fpring  returned  with  its 
Ciowers,  but  no  leaf  of  mine  arofe.  FingaL 

I  am  aware  that  the  term  metaphor  has  been  ufed  in 
a  more  extenfue  (sn^Q  than  I  give  it;  but  1  thought  it 
of  confequence,  in  a  difquifition  of  fome  intricacy,  to 
confine  this  term  to  its  proper  kn^e,  and  to  feparate 
from  it  things  that  are  ditlingulfhed  by  different  names. 
An  allegory  differs  from  a  metaphor  ;  and  what  I  would 
chufe  to  call  a  figure  of  fpeechy  differs  from  both.  I 
proceed  to  explain  thefe  differences  A  metaphor  is 
defined  above  to  be  an  operation  of  the  imagination, 
figuring  one  thing  to  be  another.  An  allegory  requires 
no  operation  of  the  imagination,  nor  is  one  thing  figu- 
red to  be  another:  it  confilts  in  chufing  a  fubjedl  having 
properties  or  circumltririCes  refembilng  thofe  of  the  prin- 
cipal fubjeft  ;  and  the  former  is  defcribed  in  fuch  a 
manner  as  to  reprefent  the  latter  :  the  fubjedt  thus  re- 
prefented  is  kept  out  of  view;  we  are  left  to  dilcover 
it  by  refleftion  ;  and  we  are  pleafed  with  the  difcovervj 
becaufe  ir  is  our  own  work.  Qjintilian  *  gives  the  fol- 
lowing inftance  of  an  allegory, 

O  navis,  referent  in  mare  te  novi 

Fludtus,     O  quid  agis .''  fortiter  occupa  portum. 

Hot  at.  lib,  I.  ode  14'. 
and  explains  it  elegantly  in  the  following  words;  •'  To- 
•'  tulque  ille  Horatii  locus,  quo  navim  pro  republica, 
"  fluduum  tempettates  pro  belHs  civilibus,  portum  pro 
"  pace  atque  Concordia,  dicit." 

H  4  There 

*  L.  8.  cap.  6.  fea  a. 


178  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

There  cannot  be  a  finer  or  more  correal  a!!eg  )ry  than 
the  following,  in  which  a  vineyard  is  made  to  reprefent 
God's  own  people  the  Jews. 

Thou  haft  brought  a  vine  out  of  Egypt:  thou  haft 
caft  out  the  heathen,  and  planted  it.  Thou  didft  caufe 
it  to  take  deep  root,  and  it  filled  the  land.  The  hills 
were  covered  with  its  fliadow,  and  the  boughs  thereof 
were  like  the  goodly  cedar.  Why  haft  thou  then  bro- 
ken down  her  hedges,  fo  that  all  which  pafs  do  pluck 
her .''  The  boar  out  of  the  wood  doth  wafte  it,  and  the 
•wild  beaft  doth  devour  it.  Return,  we  befeech  thee,  O 
God  of  hofts:  look  down  from  heaven,  and  behold,  and 
vifit  this  vine,  and  the  vineyard  thy  right  hand  hath 
planted,  and  the  branch  thou  madeft  ftrong  for  thyfelf. 

Pfalm  80. 

In  a  word,  an  allegory  is  in  every  refpeft  fnnllar  to 
an  hierogtypkical  painting,  excepting  only,  that  words 
are  ufed  inftead  of  colours.  Their  effefta  are  precifely 
the  fame  :  a  hieroglyphic  raifes  two  images  in  the, mind  ;. 
one  feen,  which  reprefents  one  not  feen  :  an  allegory, 
does  the  fame  ;  the  reprefentative  fubjed  is  defcribed  ;, 
and  refemblance  leads  us  to  apply  the  defcripiion  to  the 
fubjeft  reprefented.  In  a  fig"''^  '-'''  fpeech,  there  is  no 
fi<!^ion  of  the  imagination  employed,  as  in  a  metaphor, 
nor  a  reprefentative  fubjedl  introduced,  as  in  an  allegory. 
This  figure,  as  its  name  in?.plies,  regards  the  expreffioa 
only,  not  the  thought;  and  it  may  be  defined,  the  uiing' 
a  word  in  a  fenfe  difterent  from  what  is  proper  to  it. 
Thus  youth,  or  the  beginning  of  life,  is  exprefted  figu- 
ratively by  mornivg  of  life  :  morning  is  the  beginning^ 
of  the  day;  and  in  that  view  it  is  emp^oy.'d  to  fignify 
the  beginning  of  any  other  feries,  life  efpecially,  the 
progrels  of  which  it  reckoned  by  days. 

Figures  of  fpeech  are  referved  for  a  feparate  fcQion  j, 
but  metaphor  and  allegory  are  fo  much  connedted,  that 
they  iTiuft  be  handled  together :  the  rules  particularly, 
for  diftinguifhing  the  good  from  the  bad,  are  common 
to  both.  We  fhall  therefore  proceed  to  thefe  rules,  af- 
ter adding  fome  examples  to  lUuftrate  the  nature  ot  aa 
allegory.  Horace,  fpeaking  of  his  love'  to  Pyrrha, 
whicJt  was  now  extinguilhed,  exprefleth  himfelf  thus: 


Se£t.  VI.  Figure  s.  179 

1 Me  tabula  facer 

VotivS  paries  indicat  uvida 
SufpendifTe  potenti 

Veltimenta  maris  Deo.  Carm.  I.  i.  ode.^,. 

Again  : 

Phcebus  volentem  prselia  me  loqui, 
ViQas  et  urbes,  increpuit  lyia: 
Ne  parva  Tyrthenum  per  squor 

Veia  darem.  Carm.  L  5.   ode  15.- 

^leen.  Great  Lords,  wife  men  ne'er  fit  and  wail' 
their  lofs, 
But  chearly  feek  how  to  redrefs  their  harms. 
What  though  the  maft  be  now  blown  overboard, 
The  cable  broke,  the  holding-anchor  loft, 
And  half  our  failors  fwallow'd  iji  the  flood  ? 
Yet  lives  our  pilot  ftill.     Is't  meet,  that  he 
Should  leave  the  helm,  and,  like  a  fearful  lad, 
With  tearful  eyes  add  water  to  the  fea. 
And  give  more  ilrength  to  that  which  hath  too  much  j 
While  in  his  moan  the  fliip  fplits  on  the  rock. 
Which  induftry  and  courage  might  have  fav'd  ? 
Ah >  what  a  Ihame  !  ah,  what  a  fault  were  this  ! 

Third  party  Henry  VI.  a£l  <y.Jc.  5,, 
Oroonoko.  Ha!  tbott  haft  rous'd 
The  lion  in  his  den,  he  ftalks  abroad, 
And  the  wide  foreft  trembles  at  his  roar. 
I  find  the  danger  now.  Oroonoko,  a£l  3.  fc.  z. 

My  well  beloved  hath  a  vineyard  in  a  very  fruitful  hill. 
He  fenced  it,  gathered  out  the  ftones  thereof,  planted  it 
with  the  choiceft  vine,  built  a  tower  in  the  midft  of  it, 
and  alfo  made  a  wine-prefs  therein:  he  looked  that  i^ 
fliould  bring  forth  grapes,  and  it  brought  forth  wild 
grapes.  And  now,  O  inhabitants  of  Jerufalem,  and  mea 
of  Judah,  jugde,  I  pray  you,  betwixt  mc  and  my  vine- 
yard. What  could  have  been  done  more  to  my  vineyard, 
that  I  have  not  done  .-•  Wherefore,  when  1  looked  that 
it  fliould  bring  forth  grapes,  brought  it  foith  wild  grapes? 
And  now  go  to  j  I  will  tell  you  what  I  will  do  to  my 
vinevard  :  I  will  take  away  the  hedge  thereof,  and  \t 
ihill  be  eaten  up  ;  and  break  down  the  wall  thereof,  and 
it  fljall  be  trodden  down.  And  I  will  iayitwafte-  it 
H  5  MW 


ito  Figures.  Gh.XX. 

Ihall  not  be  pruned,  nor  digged,  but  there  fhall  come  up 
briers  and  thorns:  I  will  alio  command  the  clouds  that 
they  rain  no  rain  upon  it.  For  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord 
x>f  hofts  is  the  houfe  of  Ifraei,  and  the  men  of  Judah 
his  pleafant  plant.  I/aiab,  v.   i. 

The  rules  that  govern  metaphors  and  allegories,  ate 
of  two  kinds  :  thofe  of  the  firft  kind  concern  the  con- 
ilruftion  of  thefe  figures,  and  afcertain  what  are  regu- 
lar and  what  irregular;  thofe  of  the  other  kind  concern 
the  propriety  of  impropriety  of  introduftion,  in  what 
circumftances  thefe  figures  may  be  admitted,  and  in 
^vhat  circumftances  they  are  out  of  place.  1  begin  with 
jules  of  the  firft  kind;  fome  of  which  coincide  with 
thofe  already  given  v/ith  refpefl  to  finiiles  ;  fome  are  pe- 
culiar to  metaphors  and  allegories. 

And,  in  the  firft  place,  it  has  been  obferved,  that  a 
fimile  cannot  be  agreeable  where  the  refemblance  is  ei- 
ther too  ftrong  or  too  faint.  This  holds  equally  in  a 
metaphor  a.nd  allegory  ;  and  the  reafon  is  the  fame  in 
all.  In  the  following  inftances,  the  refemblance  is  too 
faint  to  be  agreeable. 

Malcolm.  But  there's  no  bottom,  none, 

In  my  voluptudChefs  :  your  wives,  your  daughters,  ; 

Your  matrons,  and  your  maids,  could  not  fill  up 
The  ciftern  of  my  luft.  Macbeth^  ad  a,  fc.  ^, 

The  beft  way  to  judge  of  this  metaphor,  is  to  convert 
at  into  a  ftmile  ;  which  would  be  bad,  becaufe  there  is 
Icarce  any  refemblance  between   luft  and  a  ciftern,  or 
betwixt  enormous  luft  and  a  large  ciftern. 
.    Again  : 

•He  cannot  buckle  his  diftemper'd  caufe  1 

Within  the  belt  of  rule.  Macbeth^  aS  5.  fc.  2, 

There  is  no  refemblance  between  a  diftempered   caufe 
end  any  body  that  can  be  confined  within  a  belt. 
Again  : 
Sleep  me  in  poverty  to  the  very  lips. 

Othello,  a£l  4.  Jc.  9. 
Poverty  here  muft  be  conceived  a  fluid,  which  it  refem- 
.,'  Ibles  not  in  any  manner. 
•Speaking  to  Bolingbroke  banifli'd  for  fix  years : 

•ihi 


Sea.  VI.  Figures.  i8l 

The  fullen  paflage  of  thy  weary  fteps 
Efteem  a  foil,  wherein  thou  art  to  fet 
The  precious  jewel  of  thy  home  return. 

RichardW.  aax.fc.e. 
Again  : 
Here  is  a  letter,  lady, 
And  every  word  in  it  a  gaping  wound 
Iffuing  h'fe-blood.       Merchant  of  Venice.,  aB  3.  fc.  3,  " 
TantJe  molis  erat  Romanam  condere  gentem. 

/Eneid.  i.  37. 

The  following  metaphor  is  ftrained  beyond  all  endu- 
rance :  Timur-bec,  known  to  us  by  the  name  of  Ta- 
merlane the  Great,  writes  to  Bajazet  Emperor  of  the 
Ottomans  in  the  following  terms; 

Where  is  the  monarch  who  dares  refifl  us  ?  where  is 
the  potentate  who  doth  not  glory  in  being  numbered  a- 
mong  our  attendants  "i  As  for  thee,  defcended  from  a 
Turcoman  failor,  fmce  the  veffel  of  thy  unbounded  am- 
bition hath  been  wreck'd  in  the  gulf  of  thy  felf  love,  it 
would  be  proper,  that  thou  fliouldft  take  in  the  fails  of 
thy  temerity,  and  caft  the  anchor  of  repentance  in  tJie 
port  of  fincerity  and  juftice,  which  is  the  port  of  fafety  j 
left  the  tempeft  of  our  vengeance  make  thee  perifh  in  the 
fea  of  the  puniihment  thou  deferveft. 

Such  ftrained  figures,  as  obferved  above*,  are  not  un- 
frequent  in  the  firft  dawn  of  refinement :  the  mind  in  a 
new  enjoyment  knows  no  bounds,  and  is  generally  car- 
ried to  excels,  till  tafte  and  experience  difcover  the  pro- 
per limits. 

Secondly,  Whatever  refemblance  fubjedts  may  have, 
it  is  wrong  to  put  one  for  another,  where  they  bear  no 
mutual  proportion :  upon  comparing  a  very  high  to  a 
very  low  fuhjeft,  the  fimile  takes  on  an  air  of  burlefque  ; 
and  the  fame  will  be  the  effe£t,  where  the  one  is  imagi- 
ned to  be  the  other,  as  in  a  metaphor  i  or  made  to  re- 
prefent  the  otherj  as  in  an  allegory. 

Thirdly,  Thefe  figures,  a  metaphor  efpecially,  ought 
not  to  be  crowded  with  many  minute  circumrtances  ; 
for  in  that  cafe  it  is  fcarcely  poifible  to  avoid  obfcurity. 

k 

*  Chap.  19.  Comparifons, 


i8a  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

A  metaphor  above  all  ought  to  be  flioi  t ;  it  is  difficult 
during  any  courfe  of  time,  to  fupport  a  lively  image  of 
one  thing  being  another  j  and  for  that  reafon,  a  meta- 
phor drawn  out  to  any  length-,  infiead  of  illuftrating  or 
enlivening  the  principaf  fubjeft,  becomes  difagreeable 
\iy  overftraining  the  mind.  Here  Cowley  is  excremelji' 
licentious :  take  the  following  inltance. 

Great  and  wife  conqu'ror,  who  where-e'er 
Thou  com'ft,  doth  fortify,  and  fettle  there! 
AVho  canft  defend  as  well  as  get ; 
'And  never  hadft  one  quarter  beat  up  yet; 
-Now  thou   art  in,  thou  ne'er  will  part 
"With  one  inch  of  my  vanquifh'd  heart  ; 
Tor  fince  thou  took'ft  it  by  affault  from  me,  "J 

' Tis  garrifon'd  fo  ftrong  with  thoughts  of  thee        v 
It  tears  no  beauteous  enemy.  j 

For  the  fame  reafon,  however  agreeable  long  allecroriee 
aiay  at  firft  be  by  their  novelty,  they  never  afford  any 
lafting  pleafure  :  witnefs  the  Frury  ^een,  which  with 
great  power  of  expreffion,  variety  of  images,  and  me- 
lody of  verfification,  is  fcarce  ever  read  a  fecond  time. 

Tn  the  fourth  place,  The  comparifon  carried  on  in  a 
fimile,  being  in  a  metaphor  funk  by  imagining  the  prin- 
cipal fubjedl  to  be  that  very  thing  which  it  only  refem- 
foles;  an  opportunity  is  furnifhed  to  defcribe  it  in  terms, 
taken  ftriftly  or  literally  with  refped  to  its  imagined  na- 
ture. This  fuggefts  another  rule.  That  in  conlhufting 
a  metaphor,  the  writer  ought  to  confine  himfejf  to  the 
iimpleft  expreffions,  and  make  ufe  of  fuch  words  only 
as  arc  applicable  literally  to  the  imagined  nature  of  his 
fubjedl:  figurative  words  ought  carefully  to  be  avoided  ; 
for  fuch  complicated  figures,  inftead  of  letting  the  prin- 
cipal fubjeft  in  a  ftrong  light,  involve  it  in  a  cloud  ;  and 
it  is  well  if  the  reader,  without  rejedting  by  the  lump, 
endeavour  patiently  to  gather  the  plain  meaning,  regard- 
lefs  of  the  figures : 
A  ftubborn  and  unconquerable  flame 
Cresps  in  his  veins,  and  drinks  the  ftreams  of  life. 

Lady  Jane  Gray^  ail  \.  fc,  I, 
Copietl  from  Ovid^ 

Sorbcnt 


Se6l.VI..  Figures;  ,8^. 

Sorbenr  avidas  prsecordia  flamnise, 

Metamorphofes^  lib.  ix.    172. 
Let  us  analyfe.  this  expreffion.     That  a  fever  may  be 
imagined  a- flime,  1  admit ;  though  more  than  one  ftep 
IS  neceffary  to  come  at  the  refemblance  :  a  fever,   by 
heating  the. body,  refembles  fite  ;  and, it  is  no  ftretch  to 
imagine  a  fever  to  be  a  fire  :  again,  by  a  figure  of  fpcecb, 
flame  may  be  .put  for  fire,  becaufe  they  are  commonly 
conjoined  -,  and  therefore  a  fever  may  be  termed  a  flame 
But  now  admitting  a  fever  to   be  a  flame,  its   efl^efts 
ought  to  be  explained  in.  words  that  agree  literally  to  a 
flame.     This   rule  is  not  obferved  here  ;    for  a  flame 
drinks  figuratively  only,  not  properly. 
King  Henry  to  his  fon  Prince  Henry  : . 

^^i^M^^'^;*^'^  a  thoufand  daggers  in  thy  thoughts. 
Which  thou  haft  whetted  on  thy  ftony  heart 
To  ftab  at  half  an  hour  of  my  frail  life. 

Second  fart,  Henry  IV.  a6l  4.  fc.  n 

Such  faulty  metaphors  are  pleafantly  ridiculed  in  the 
Rehear fal. 

Phyfician  Sir,  to  conclude,  the  place  you  fill  has 
more  than  amply  exaded  the  talents  of  a  wary  pilot  • 
and  all  thefe  threatening  florms,  which,  like  impregnate 
clouds,  hover  o'er  our  heads,  will,  when  they  once  are 
grafp  d  but  by  the  eye  of  reafon,  melt  into  fruitful  low- 
ers ot  bielfings  on  the  people. 

Bayes    Pray  mark  that  allegory.     Is  not  that  good  ? 
_    Jfnfon.  Yes,  that  grafping  of  a  ftorm  with  fhe  eye 
13  admirable.  ^d  2.  fc.i. 

Fifthly,  The  jumbling  di^erent  metaphors  in  the 
lame  fentence,  or  the  beginning  with  one  metaphor  and 
ending  with  another,  commonly  called  a  mixt  metaphor 
ought  never  to  be  indulged.  Quintilian  bears  teftiruony 
againft  n  m  the  bittereft  terms  :  "  Nam  id  quoque  in 
'  P""),"  .eft.'^^ft^^^^'endum,  ut  quo  ex  genere  cceperis 
^    tranflationis,  hoc  definas.     Multi  enim,  cum  inidum 

a.tempeftate  fumpferunt,  incendio  aut  ruina  finiunt - 

qua  efl:  inconfequentia  lerum  fcediifima."  I  8  ra^ 
©.  §  2.  ■    •      f 

K.  Henry.  , Will  you  a^ain  unknit 

This 


184  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

This  churlifh  knot  of  all-abhorred  war, 
And  move  in  that  obedient  orb  again, 
Where  you  did  give  a  fair  and  natural  light  ? 

Firjl  part,  Henry  Ml.  a^  ^.  fc.  l. 
"Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind,  to  fuffer 
The  ftings  and  arrows  of  outrag'ous  fortune; 
Or  to  take  arms  againft  a  Tea  of  troubles, 
And  by  oppofing  end  them.  Hamlet,  nfl  3.  fc.  2. 

In  the  fixth  pince,  It  is  unpleafant  to  join  cilFerent 
metaphors  in  the  lame  pciiod,  even  where  they  are  pre- 
'"(.Tved  didii'.dt  :  for  when  the  lubjetl  is  imagined  to  be 
firft  one  thing  and  then  another  in  the  fame  period  with- 
out interval,  the  mi  .id  is  diftracled  by  the  rapid  tranfi- 
tion  J  and  when  the  imagination  is  put  on  fuch  hard 
duty,  its  images  are  too  faint  to  produce  any  good  effect; 

At  regina  gravi  jamdudum  faucia  cura, 
Vulnus  alit  venis,  et  cseco  carpitur  igni. 

^rieid.  iv.   1. 

■ Eft  mollis  flamma  medullas 

Interea,  et  taciturn  vivit  fub  pedore  vulnus. 

Mneid.  iv.  66. 

Motum  ex  Metello  confule  civicuni, 
Bellique  caufas,  et  vitia,  et  modos, 
Ludumque  fortunje,  gravefque 
Principum  amicitias,  et  arma 
Nondum  expiatis  un(!ta  cruoribus, 
Periculofse  plenum  opus  aleas, 
Tradtas,  et  incedis  per  ignes 
SubpofitOscineti  dolofo.  Horat.  Carm.  I.  2.  ode  I. 

In  the  laft  place.  It  is  ftill  worfe  to  jumble  togethct 
metaphorical  and  natural  expreffion,  fo  as  that  the  pe- 
riod muft  be  underftood  partly  metaphorically,  partly  li- 
terally ;  for  the  imagination  cannot  follow  with  fuffici- 
ent  eafe  changes  fo  fudden  and  unprepared  ;  a  metaphor 
begun  and  not  carried  on,  hath  no  beauty ;  and  inftead 
of  light  there  is  nothing  but  obfcutity  and  confufion. 
Inftances  of  fuch  incorrect  compofition  are  without 
number :  I  fliall,  for  a  fpecimen,  fele^  a  few  from  dif- 
ferent authors. 

Speaking  of  Britain, 

Tliis 


Se£l.VI.  Figures.  185 

This  precious  ftone  fet  in  the  Tea, 
Which  ferves  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall,   . 
Or  as  a  moat  defenfive  to  a  houfe 
Againft  the  envy  of  lefs  happier  lands. 

Richard  II.  ad  2.  Jc.  i. 
In  the  firft  line  Britain  is  figured  to  be  a  precious  ftone  : 
in   the  following  lines,  Britain,  diverted  of  her   ineta- 
phoiical  drefs,  is  prefented  to  the  reader  in  her  natural 
appearance. 
Thefe  growing  feathers  pluck'd  from  Csefar's  wing,   , 
Will  make  him  fly  an  ordinary  pitch, 
Who  elfe  v/ould  foar  above  the  view  of  men, 
And  keep  us  all.  in  ferviie  fearfulnefs. 

Julius  Ctffary  ad  1.  fc.  J: 
R^bus  anguftis  animofus  atque 
Fortis  adpare  ;  fapienter  idem 
Contrahes  vento  niniium  fecundo   . 

Turgida  vela.  Hor. 

The  following  is  a  miferable  jumble  of  exprefllons,  a- 
rifing  from  an  unfteady  view  of  the  fubjedt,  between 
its  figurative  and  natural  appearance  : 
But  now  from  gath'ring  clouds  deftrudtion  pours. 
Which  ruins  with  mad  rage  our  halcyon  hours : 
Mifts  from  black  jealoufies  the  tempeft  form, 
Whilft  late  divifions  reinforce  the  ftorm. 

Difpenfary,  canto  3. 
To  thee,  the  world  its  prefen?  homage  pays. 
The  harveft  early,  but  mature  the  praife. 

Ptpis  imitation  of  Horace^  h.  2, 
Oui,  fa  pudeur  n'eft  que  franche  grimace, 
Qu'une  ombre  de  vertu  qui  garde  mal  la  place, 
Et  qui  s'evanouit,  comme  Ton  peut  favoir, 
Aux  rayons  du  foleil  qu'une  bouife  fait  voir. 

Moliere,  VEtourdi,  ad  ^.  fc.  z.. 
Et  fon  feu,  depourvu  de  fenfe  et  de  lecture, 
S'eteint  a  chaque  pas,  faute  de  nourriture, 

BoileaUf  Uart  pottique^  chant.  3.  /.  319. 

Dryden,  in  his  dedication  of  the  tranflation  of  Ju<venaly 
fays. 

When  thus,  as  I  may  fay,,  before  the  ufe  of  the  load- 

ftone. 


i86  F  I  G  u  RE  s.  Ch.XX. . 

flone,  or  knowledge  of  the  compafs,  I  was  failing  in  a  • 
vaft  ocean,  withouc  other  help  than  the  pole-ftar  of  the 
antlents,  and  the  rules  of  the  French  ftage  among  the 
moderns,  tfff. 

There  is-  a  time  when  faflions,  by  the  vehemence  of 
their  own  fermentation,  ftur.  and  difable  one  another. 

Bclinghroke. 
This  fault  of  jumbling   tl;e  figure  and   plain  cxprelH-. 
on  into  one  conlulcd  niafs,  is  not  leis  coniinon  in  ailcgo-  • 
ry  than  in  inetaphor.     Take  the  followiiig  examples.  . 

-  ■    ■   ■- Heu !  quoiies  fid-eiii,  . 

Mutatofque  Deos  flebic,  etafpera. 
Nigiis  squoia  vciitis 
Emirabitur  infolens. 
Qui  nunc  te  fruitur  credulus  aurea: 
Qui  femper  vacuam,  femper  amabilem 
Sperat,  nefcius  aurae 

Fallacis.  Horat.  Carm.  I.  I,  «^^"5,:,  jy 

Pc>ur  moi  fur  cette  merj  qu'ici  bas  nous  courons,         f 
Je  fonge  a  me  pourvoir  d'efquif  et  d'avirons, 
A  regler  mes  defirs,  a  prevenir  I'orage, 
Et  fauver,  s'il  fe  peut,  ma  Raifon  du  naufi-age. 

Boileaut  epitre  J.- 

Lord  Halifax,  fpeaking  of  the  antlent  fabulifts :  "  They 
•'  (fays  he)  wrote  in  figns  and  fpoke  in  parables:  all 
**^  their  fables  carry  a  double  meaning:  the  ftory  is 
«'  one  and  entire;  the  #liara6ters  the  fame  throughout; 
*'  not  broken  or  changed,  and  always  conformable  to  ^^ 
"  the  nature  of. the  creature  they  introduce.  They  ne-  ) 
«'  ver  tell  you,  that  the  dog  which  fnapp'd  at  a  fhadow, 
•'  loft  his  troop  of  horfe,  that  would  be  unintelligible. 
*<  This  is  his  (Dryden's)  new  way  of  telling  a  ftory,  and 
"  confounding  the  moral  and  the  fable  together."  Af- 
ter inftancing  from  the  hind  and  panther,  he  goes  on 
thus  :  *'  What  relation  has  the  hind  to  our  Saviour  i  or 
"  what  notion  have  we  of  a  panther's  Bible  ?  If  you 
"  fay  he  means  the  church,  how  does  the  church  feed 
"  on  lawns,  or  range  in  the  foreft  ?  Let  it  be  always  a 
*<  church  or  always  a  cloven-footed  beaft,  for  we  can- 
♦'  not  bear  his  fhifting  the  fcene  every  line." 

A  fe.w   words  moje  upon  allegory.     Nothing  gives 

greate* 


Sea.  Vr.  Figure  s:  iS'^: 

greater  pleafure  than  this  figure,  when  the  reprefentativc' 
fiibjedt  bears  a-ftiong  analogy,  in  all  its  circumftances, 
to  that  which  is  reprelented:   but  the  choice  is  feldom- 
(o  lucky  :   the  analogy   being  generally  (o  faint  and  ob- 
Icure,  as  to  puzzle  and  not  pleafe.     An  allegory  is  (lill- 
niore difficult  in  painting  than  in  poetry:  the  former  can 
ftiow  no  refeniblance  but  what  appears  to  the  eye  ;  the. 
Tatter  hath  inary  other  refources  for  fhowing  the  refem- 
blance.     And  therefore,  with  refpeft  to  what  the  Abb6 
du  Bos  *  terms  mixt  allegorical  compolitions,  thefe  may 
do  in  poetry,  becaufe,  in  writing,  the  allegory  can  eafiljr 
be  diftinguifhed  from  the  hiftorical  part;  no  petfon,  for 
example,  miftakes  Virgil's  Fame  for  a  real  being  :  but 
fuch  a  mixture  in  a  pi6\ure  is  intolerable ;  becaufe  in  a. 
pifture  the  objefls  muft  appear  all  of  the  fame  kind, 
wholly  real  or  wholly  emblematical.     For    that  reafon, 
the  hiftory  of  Mary  de  Medicis^in  rhe  palace  of  Lux»- 
enibourg,  painted  by  Rubens,  is  unpleafant  by  a  perpe- 
tual jumble  of  real   and  allegorical   petfonages,   v/hich 
produce  a  difcordaace  of  parts,  and  an  obfcurity  upon 
the  whole  :  witnefs,  in  particular,  the  tablature  repre- 
fenting  the  arrival  of  Mary  de  Medicis  at  Marfeilles  5  , 
where,   together  with  the  real  perfonages,  the  Nereids 
and  Tritons  appear  foundirsg  their  fhells  :  l«ch  a  mixture 
of  fiction  and  reality  in  the  fame  groupe,  is  flrangely  ab- 
furd.     The  pidure  of  Alexander  and  Roxana,  defcribed' 
by  Lucian,  is  gay  and  fanciful ;  but  it  fufFers  by  the  al" 
legorical  figures.     It  is  not  in  the  wit  of  man  to  invent 
an   allegorical  reprefentation  deviating  farther  from  any, 
appearance  of  relemblance,  than  one  exhibited  by  Lewis 
XIV.  anno  1664;  in  which  an  overgrown  chariot,  in- 
tended to  reprefent   that  of  the  fun,  is  draggd  along, 
furrounded  with  men  and  women,  reprefenting,  the  four- 
ages   of  the  world.,  the  celeftial  figns,  the  feafons,  the 
ho.urs,   &c  J  a  monftrous  compofuion,  and  yet  fcarcc 
more  abfurd  than  Guide's  tablature  of  Aurora. 

In  an  al'egory,  as  well  as  in  a  metaphor,  terms  ought 
to  be  chofen  that  properly  and  literally  are  applicable 
to  the  reprelentative  fubjeft :  nor  ought  any  circum- 
ftance  to  be  added  that  is  not  proper  to  the  reprefenta- 

tiye 

'    '       '  '"  ' I  III!  ■  ■  ■  11  — ^a— ^>»  . 

*-  Reflexions  fur  la  Poefie,  i^c.  vol.  1.  fe<5t.  34, 


i89 


Figures. 


CH.  xx; 

tive  fubjeft,  however  juflly  it  may  be  applicable  pro- 
perly or  figuratively  to  tlie  princip.il.  Upon  that  ac- 
count the  following  allegory  is  faulty, 

Ferus  et  Cupido, 
Semper  ardentes  acuens  fagictas 

Cote  cruenti,  -Horat.  I.  %,  ode  8. 

For  though  blood  may  fugged  the  cruelty  of  love,  it 
is  an  improper  or  immaterial  circumftance  in  the  repre- 
fentarive  fubjeft  r  water,  not  blood,  is  proper  for  a 
whetftone. 

We  proceed  to  the  next  head,  which  is,  to  examine 
in  what  circumftances  thefe  figures  are  proper,  in  what 
iniproper.  This  inquiry  is  not  altogether  fuperfeded 
by  what  is  faid  upon  the  fame  fubjeft  in  the  chapter  of 
comparifons ;  becaufe,  upon  trial  it  will  be  found,  that 
a  iTiorr  metaphor  or  alla^ory  may  be  proper,  where  a  fi- 
mile,  drawn  out  to  a  greater  length  and  in  its  nature 
more  folemn,  would  fcarce  be  relilhed.. 

Af?d,  in  the  fiHl  place,  a  metaphor,  like  a  fimile,  is 
excluded  from  common  converfation,  and  from  the  def- 
cription  of  ordinary  incicients. 

In  the  next  place,  in   exprefling  any  fevere    paflioiv 
that  totally  occupies  the  mind,  metaphor  is  unnatural. 
For  which  reafon,  we  mull  condemn  the  following  fpeech;: 
of  Macbeth  :  . 

Methought  I  heard  a  voice  err,  Sleep  no  more  h 
Macbeth  doth  murther  fldfip  ;  the  innocent  fleep  j  . 
Sleep  that  knits  up  the  raveil'd  fleeve  ot  Care, 
The  birth  of  each  day's  life,  fore  Labour's  bath, 
Batm  of  hurt  minds,  great  Nature's  fecond  courle. 

Chief  nourifher  in  Life's  feaft A?  2.  fc.  3.-..| 

The  next  example,  of  deep^  defpair,  befide  the  highl^j 
figurative  ft  vie,  hath  more  the  air  of  raving  than  of  fenfejj 
Ctdifta  Is  it  the  voice  of  thunder,  or  my  father?  J 
Madnefs!  Gonfufion!  let  the  ftorm  come  on. 
Let  the  tumultuous  roar  drive  all  upon  me, 
Dafii  my  devoted  bark:  ye  furges,  break  it; 
'Tis  for  my  ruin  that  the  tempeil  rifes, 
When  I  am  loft,  funk  to  the  bottom  low, 
Peace  ihall  return,  and  all  be  calm  again. 

lair  ffnitent,  a!t  4. 
The 


Sea,  VI.  Figures.  i88 

The  metaphor  I  next  introduce,  is  fweet  and  lively, 
but  it  fuits  not  the  fiery  temper  of  Chamont,  inflamed 
with  paflion  :  parables  are  not  the  language  of  wrath 
venting  itfeif  without  rellraint: 

Chamant.  You  took  her  up  a  little  tender  flower, 
Jufl;  fprouted  on  a  bank,  which  the  next  froft 
Had  nip'd  ;  and  with  a  careful  loving  hand, 
Tranfplanted  her  into  your  own  fair  garden, 
Where  the  fun  always  fhines  :  there  long  (he  flourifli'd. 
Grew  (\'j&Qt  to  fenfe  and  lovely  to  the  eye,  . 
Till  at  the  laft  a  cruel  fpoiler  came, 
Cropt  this  fair  rofe,  and  r.fled  all  its  fweetnefs, 
Then  caft  it  like  a  loathfome  weed  away. 

Orphan,  aSl  4. 
The  following  fpeech,  full  of  imagery,  is  not  natural 
in  grief  and  dcjedion  of  mind. 

Gonfalez.  O  my  fon !  from  the  blind  dotage 
OJ  a  father's  fondnefs  tbefe  ills  arofe.  . 
For  th.ee  I've  been  ambitious,  bafe  and   bloody  : 
For  thee  I've  plung'd  into  this  fea  of  fin  j 
Stemming  the  tide  with  only  one  weak  hand. 
While  t  other  bore  the  crown,  (to  wreathe  thy  brow), 
Whofe  .weight  hits  funk  me  ere  I  reach'd  the  fliore. 

Mourning  Bride,  a£l  ^..fc  6. 
There  is  an  incbanting  picture  oi  deep  diftrefs  in  JVlac-: 
beth  *,  wheie  Macduff  is  reprefented  lamenting  his  wife 
and  children,  inhumanly  murdered  by  the  tyrant.  Stung 
to  the  heart  with  the  news,  he  qqeftions  the  meffenger 
over  and  over  :  not  that  he  doubted  the  fa^,  but  that 
his. heart  revolted  againll  fo  cruel  a  misfortune.  After 
Itruggling  fome  time  with  his  grief,  he  turns  from  his 
wite  and  children  to  their  favage  butcher;  and  then 
gives  vent  to  his  refentment,  but  ftill  with  manlinefs  and 
dignity  : 

O,  I  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  ^ye^. 

And  braggart  with  my  tongue.     But,  gentle  Heav'n  J  . 

Cut  fhort  all  in^ermiffion  ;  front  to  front 

Bring  thou  this  fiend  of  Scotland  and  myfelf ; 

Within  my  fword's  length  fet  him- Jf  he  Tcape,  ., 

Then  Heav'n  forgive  him  too. 
^ The 

*  Aa4.  fc.  6.. 


'9«>  Figure  s.  Ch.  XX; 

The  whole  fcene  is  a  delicious  pifture  of  human  nature. 
One  expreflion  only  feems  doubtful :  in  examining  the 
meflenger,  iVJacdufF  exprefles  himfelf  thus: 

He  hath  no  children all  my  pretty  ones! 

Did  you  fay,  all?  what,  all?  Oh,  hell-kite!  all? 

What!  all  my  pretty  little  chickens  and  their  dam. 

At  one  fell  fwoop  ! 

Metaphorical  expreflion,  I  am  fenfible,  may  fometlmeg 
be  uled  with  grace  where  a  regular  fmile  would  be  in- 
tolerable :  but  there  are  fituatinns  fo  fevere  and  difpi- 
nting,  as  not  to  admit  even  the  flighted  metaphor.  It 
requires  great  delicacy  of  tafte  to  determine  with  firm- 
nels,  whether  the  prefent  cafe  be  of  that  nature:  I  in- 
cline to  think  it  is  j  and  yet  I  would  not  willingly  altec 
a  fingle  word  of  this  admirable  fcene. 

But  metaphorical  language  is  proper  when  a  maa 
ftruggles  to  bear  with  dignily  or  decency  a  misfortune, 
however  great:  the  fliruggle  agitates  and  animates  the 
mind  : 

^^olfey.  Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  to  all  my  greatnefs  I 
This  is  the  ftate  of  man  ;  to-day  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope;   to-morrow  blofToms, 
And  bears  his  blu(hing  honours  thick  upon  him  ; 
The  third  day  comes  a  froft,  a  killing  froft. 
And  when  he  thinks,  good  eafy  man,  full  furei/ 
His  greatnefs  is  a  ripening,  nips  his  root, 
And  then  he  falls  as  I  do.         Henry  VIII.  ail  3.  fc.  6, 

S    EC    T.       VII,  Figure  of  Speech. 

IN  the  fe£tion  immediately  foregoing,  a  figure  of 
fpeech  is  defined,  "  The  ufing  a  word  in  a  lenie  dif- 
"  terent  from  what  is  proper  to  it ;"  and  the  new  or 
uncommon  fenfe  of  the  word  is  termed  the  fgurati've 
fenfe.  The  figurative  fenfe  mult  have  a  relation  to  that 
wjiich  is  proper  J  and  the  more  ir  rimate  the  relation  is, 
the  figure  is  the  more  happy.  How  ornamental  this  fi- 
gure is  to  language,  will  not  be  readily  unagined  by  any 
one  who  hath  not  given  peculiar  attention;  and  there- 
fore I  (hall  endeavour  to  untold  its  capital  beauties  and 
advantages.  In  the  firft  place,  a  woro  ufed  figuratively, 
♦r  in  a  new  fenle,  fuggelts  at  the  fame  time  the  lenfe . 

it 


Se6i.  VII.  F  I  G  u  R  E  s.  191 

it  commonly  bears:  and  thus  it  has  the  effefl  to  prefent 
two  objedls  ;  one  fignified  b\^  the  figurative  fenfe,  which 
may  be  termed  the  principal  ohjed ;  and  one  fignified 
by  the  proper  fenfe,  which  may  be  termed  acctjjory  : 
the  principal  makes  a  part  of  the  thought;  the  acceilb- 
xy  is  merely  ornamental.  In  this  refpeft,  a  figure  of 
fpeech  is  precifely  fimilar  to  concordant  founds  in  mu- 
fic,  which,  without  contributiiig  to  the  melody,  make  it 
harmonious  I  explain  myfelf  by  examples.  Touth^ 
by  a  figure  of  fpeech,  is  termed  the  morning  of  life : 
this  exprtflion  fignifies  jo«fi»,  the  principal  objeft,  which 
enters  into  the  thought ;  it  fuggefts,  at  the  fame  time, 
the  proper  fenfe  of  morning;  and  this  accelTory  obje(5l, 
being  in  itfelf  beautiful,  and  connedled  by  refemblance 
to  the  principal  object,  is  not  a  little  ornamental.  Itn- 
'ferious  ocean  is  an  example  of  a  different  kind,  where 
an  attribute  is  expreifed  figuratively:  together  with 
'fiormjfy  the  figurative  meaning  of  the  epithet  imperious, 
there  is  fuggefted  its  proper  meaning,  'viz.  the  ftern 
authority  of  a  defpotic  prince  ;  and  thefe  two  are  ftrong- 
\y  conneded  by  refemblance.  Upon  this  figurative  pow- 
er of  words,  Vida  defcants  with  great  elegance : 

Nonne  vides,  verbis  ut  veris  fape  reliftls 
Accerfant  fimulata,  aliundeque  nomina  porro 
Tranfportent,  aptentque  aliis  ea  rebus ;  ut  ipfae, 
Exuviafque  njvas,  res,  infolitofque  colores 
Indutae,  faepe  externi  mirentur  amidtus 
Unde  illi,  laetaeque  aliena  luce  fruantur, 
Mutatoque  habitu,  nee  jam  fua  nomina  mallent? 
Sape  ideo,  cum  bella  cauunt,  incendia  ciedas 
Cernere,  diluviumque  ingens  ftirgentibus  undis. 
Contra  etiam  Mirtis  p'jgnas  imitabitur  ignis. 
Cum  furit  accenfis  acies  Vulcania  campis. 
Nee  turbato  oritur  quondam  minor  sequore  pugna: 
Confligunt  animofi  Euri  certamine  vafto 
Inter  le,  pugnantque  adverfis  moHbus  undje. 
Ufque  adeo  paifim  fua  res  infignla  is  « 
Permutantque,  juvantque  vicilfim  ;  et  mutua  fefe 
Altera  in  alterius  tiansformat  protinus  ora. 
Turn  fpecie  capti  gaudent  fpedare  legentes : 
Nam  diverfa  fimul  datur  e  re  cerneie  eadem 

Multaium 


,92  Figures.  Ch.XX. 

Multarum  fimulacra  animo  fubeuntia  rerum. 

Poet.  lib.  3.  /.  44. 

In  the  next  place,  this  figure  pofTefTcs  a  fignal  power 
of  aggrandifing   an    objea,    by    the    foUowing    means. 
Words,  which  have  no  original  beauty  but  what  arilca^ 
from  their  found,  acquire  an  adveri:ic!ou<  beauty  from 
their  meaning:  a  word  fignifying  any  thing  that  is  a- 
creeable,  becomes  bv  that  means  agreeable;  tor  the  a- 
.  greeablenefs  of  the  object  is  communicated  to  its  name*. 
This  acquired  beauty,  by  the  force  of  cuftom,  adheres 
to  the  word  even  whjn  ufed  figuratively  ;  and  the  beau- 
ty received  from  the  thing  it  properly  fignifies,  is  com- 
municated to  the  thing  which  it  is  made   to  lignity  figu- 
ratively.    Confider  the  foregoing   expreffion  Imperious 
■»cean,  how  much  more  elevated  it  is  than  Stormy  ocean. 
Thirdly,  This  figure  hath  a  happy  effea  by  prevent- 
ing the  familiarity  of  proper  names.     The   familiarity 
of  a  proper  name,  is  communicated  to  the  thing  it  fig- 
nifies'by  means  of  their  intimate  conneaion  ;  and  the 
thing  is  thereby  brought  down   in  our  feeling  f.  _  This 
bad  effea  is  prevented  by  ufing  a  figurative  word  inftead 
of  one  that  is  proper ;  as,  for  example,  when  we   ex- 
prefs  the  (ky  by  terming  it  the  blue  'vault  of  heaven  ;  for 
though   no  work  of  art  can   compare  with   the  fkv   m 
magmficence,  the  expreffion  however  muft  be  relilhed, 
becaufe  it  prevents  the  object  from  being  brought  down 
by  the  familiarity  of  its  proper  name.    With  refpect  to 
the  degrading  familiarity  of  proper  names,  Vida  has  the 
following  pafTage. 
Hinc  fi  duia  nvhi  palTus  dicendus  Ulyfles,^ 
Non  ilium  vero  membrabo  nomine,  led  qui 
Et  mores  hominum  multorum  vidit,  et  uibes, 

Na\i  Tragus 


*  See  chap.  2.  part  1.  fed  5. 

t  I  have  often  regretted,  that  a  faaioiis  fpirit  of  op- 
pofition  to  the  reigning  family  makes  it  neceffary  in  pub- 
lic woifliip  to  diltinguifh  the  King  by  his  proper  name. 
One  will  fcarce  imasine,  who  has  not  made  the  trial, 
how  much  better  it 'founds  to  pray  for  our  Sovereign 
Lord  the  King,  without  any  addition. 


Sea.  VII.  Figures.  193 

Naufragus  cverfse  poft  faeva  incendia  Trojx. 

Poet,  lib   2.  I.  46. 

Lailly,  By  this  figure  language  is  enriched,  and  ren- 
dered more  copious;  in  which  refpecr,  were  there  no 
other,  a  figure  of  fpeech    is  a  happy  invention.     This 
property  is  finely  touched  by  Vida : 
Quinetiain  agricolas  ea  Fartdi  nora  voluptas 
Exercef,  duni  Iseta  feges,  duiu  trudere  genimas 
Incipiunt  vites,  firientiaque  x'heris  i  nbrem 
Prata  bibunt,  ridentque  faiis  fuigentibus  agii, 
Hanc  vulgo  fpecieai  propiis  penuria  vocis 
Intulit,   indicti'que  urgens  in   rebus  egeilas 
.Qaippc  ubi  fe  vera  ottendebant  n j-nina  nufquam, 
.  FdS  erat  hinc  atqae  hinc  transferre  fi  uillima  veris. 

Poet,  lib   3    /.  90. 

The  beauties  I  have  mentioned  belong  to  every  figure 
of  fpeech.  Several  other  beauties  peculiar  to  one  or 
other  fort,  I  ihall  have  occafion  to  remark  afterward. 

Not  only  fubjects,  but  qualities,  actions,  effects  may 
be  expreffed  figuratively.  Thus,  as  to  fubjefls,  the 
gates  of  breath  tor  the  lios,  the  'ixiutery  kingdom  for  the 
ocean.  As  to  qualities,  y^er^:?  for  ftormy,  in  the  expref- 
fion  Fierce  "winter;  alius  for  piofundus,  .<tltus  puteusy 
Altum  mare  ;  breathing  for  peifpiring.  Breathing  plants. 
Again,  as  to  anions,  The  fea  rages,  Tiuie  will  melt  her 
frozen  thoughts,  Time  kills  grief.  An  effefl  is  put  for 
the  caufe,  as  lux  for  the  fun  ;  and  a  caufe  for  the  effect, 
as  bourn  lal>nres  for  corn  The  relation  of  refemblance 
is  one  plentiful  fource  of  figuies  of  fpeech  ;  and  nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  app'y  to  one  obiect  the  name 
of  another  that  refembles  it  in  any  rtfpect :  height,  <ize, 
and  wordly  greatnefs,  though  in  themfelves  they  have 
no  refemblance,  produce  emotions  in  the  mind  that  have 
a  refemblance;  and,  led  by  that  refemblance,  we  natu- 
rally exprefs  wordly  greatnefs  by  height  or  fize  :  one 
feels  a  certain  untufinefs  in  looking  down  to  a  great 
depth  ;  and  hence  depth  is  made  to  exprefs  any  thing 
difagreeable  by  excels,  as  dtpth  of  g'ief,  depth  of  del- 
pair:  again,  height  of  place,  and  time  long  paft,  pro- 
duce fiuiilar  feetin;^s ;  and  hence  the  expreition,  Ut  til' 
tius  repetam:  diltance  in  pall  time,  prodocing  a  ftrong 

feeling, 


.'194  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

■feeling,  is  put  for  any  ftrong  feeling,  Nihil  mihi  antiqui- 
us  nojlra  anticitia  :  fhortnels  with  relation  to  fpace,  for 
/hortnefs  with  relation  to  time,  Brevis  ejje  luboro,  ohjcu' 
rus  fio :  furifering  a  punifhment  refemblcs  paying  a  debt ; 
hence  fender e  pcenas.  Upon  the  fame  account,  light 
may  be  put  for  glory,  fun/hine  for  profperity,  and 
weight  for  importance. 

Many  words,  originally  figurative,  having,  by  long 
and  conftant  ufe,  loft  their  figurative  power,  are  degra- 
ded to  the  inferior  rank  of  proper  terms.  Thus  the 
words  that  exprefs  the  operations  of  the  miiid,  have  in 
all  languages  been  originally  figurative:  the  reafon  holds 
'in  all,  that  when  thele  opeiations  came  firll  under  con- 
fideration,  there  was  no  other  way  of  defcribing  them 
but  by  what  they  refembled  :  it  was  not  practicable  to 
give  them  proper  names,  as  nMty  be  done  to  objefts  that 
can  be  afcertained  by  fight  and  touch.  A /o//  nature, 
jarring  tempers,  iveight  of  wo,  pompous  phrafe,  beget 
compallion,  affuage  grief,  break  a  \ow,  bend  the  eye 
£lownward,y?'9xufr  down  curies,  droivnd  in  tears,  ivrapt 
in  joy,  'warmd  with  eloquence,  loaded  with  fpoils,  and 
a  thoufand  other  exprelHons  of  the  like  nature,  have 
loft  their  figurative  feiife  Some  terms  there  are,  that 
cannot  be  faid  to  be  either  altogether  figurative  or  alto- 
gether proper  :  originally  figurative,  they  are  tending  to 
limplicity,  without  having  loft  altogether  their  figurative 
power.  Virgil's  Regina  faucia  cura,  is  perhaps  one  of 
thefe  expreilions :  with  ordinary  readers,  faucia  will  be 
confidered  as  exprefling  fi.iiply  the  eflFeCt  of  griet* ;  but 
one  of  a  lively  iinagination  will  exalt  the  phrafe  into  a 
figure. 

For  epitomifing  this  fubjed,  and  at  the  fame  time  for 
giving  a  clear  view  of  it,  I  cannot  think  of  a  better  me- 
thod, than  to  prefent  to  the  reader  a  lift  of  the  feveral 
relations  upon  which  figures  of  fpeech  are  commonly 
founded.  This  lift  1  divide  into  two  tables ;  one  of  fub- 
jefts  exprefled  figuratively,  and  one  of  attributes. 

FIRST    TABLE. 

Subjeds  txpre£ed  figurati'vely. 

I.  A  word  proper  to  one  fubjefl  employ 'd  figurative- 
ly to  exprefs  ;i  relcmbling  fubjed. 
^  ^  ^      '  There 


Sea.  Vir.  Figures.  195 

There  is  no  figure  of  fpeech  fo  frequent,  as  what  is 
derived  from  the  relation  of  refeinblance.  Youth,  for 
example,  is  fignified  figuratively  by  the  morning  of  life. 
The  life  of  a  man  refenibles  a  natural  day  in  (everal  par- 
ticulars:  the  morning  is  the  beginning  of  day,  youth 
the  beginning  of  life;  the  morning  is  chearful,  {o  is 
youth,  Iffc.  By  another  refemblance,  a  bold  warrior  is 
termed  the  thunderbolt  of  war;  a  multitude  of  trou- 
bles,  a  fea  of  troubles. 

At  the  fame  time,  this  figure,  above  all  others,  af- 
fords pIeafure_to  the  mind  by  variety  of  beauties.  Be- 
fide  the  beauties  above  mentioned  common  to  all  forts, 
it  pofTeffes  in  particular  the  beauty  of  a  metaphor  or  of 
a  hmile  :  a  figure  of  fpeech  built  upon  refemblance, 
fuggefts  always  a  comparifon  between  the  principal  fub- 
jeft  and  the  acceflbry ;  whereby  every  good  effed  of  a 
metaphor  or  fimile,  may  in  a  fhort  and  lively  manner, 
be  produced  by  this  figure  of  fpeech. 

2.  A  word  proper  to  the  effeft  employ 'd  figuratively 
to  exprefs  the  caufe. 

Lux  for  the  fun.  ShaJotu  for  cloud.  A  helmet  is 
fignified  by  the  expreffion  glittering  terror.  A  tree  by 
Jhadoiv  or  umbrage.     Hence  the  expreffion  : 

Nee  habet  Pelion  umbras.  Onjid. 

Where  the  dun  umbrage  hangs.  Spring,  I.  1023. 
A  wound  is  made  to  ^iim^y  an  arrow ; 

Vulnere  non  pedibus  te  confequar.  Onjid. 

There  is  a  peculiar  force  and  beauty  in  this  figure  ; 
the  word  which  fignifies  figuratively  the  principal  fub-* 
jett,  denotes  it  to  be  a  caufe  by  fuggefting  the  effect. 

3.  A  word  proper  to  the  caufe,  employ'd  figuratively 
to  exprefs  the  effect.  ^ 

Boumqiie  lahores  for  corn.    Sorroiv  or  grief  for  tears. 
Again  Ulyifes  veil'd  his  penfive  head, 
Again  unmann'd,  a  fliow'r  of  forroiv  ihed. 
Streaming  Grief  his  faded  cheek  bedew'd. 

Blindnefs  for  darknefs  : 
Cscis  erramus  in  undis.  jEneid.  iii.  200. 

There  is  a  peculiar  energy  in  this  figure,  fimilar  to 

Vol.  II.  I  th,t 


ipS  Figures.  Ch.XX. 

that  in  the  former :  the  figurative  name  denotes  the  fub- 
ject  to  be  an  effect,  by  fuggcfting  its  caufe. 

4.  Two  things  being  intimately  connected,  the  pro- 
per name  of  the  one  employ'd  figuratively  to  fignify  the 
other. 

Day  for  light.  Night  for  darknefs  ;  and  hence,  A 
fudden  night.     IVinter  for  a  itorm  at  fea : 

Interea  magno  mifceri  mnrnuire  pontum, 

Emiffamque  Hyemem  fenfit  Neptunus. 

JEneid.  \.    128. 

This  laft  figure  would  be  too  bold  for  a  Britifh  writer, 

as  a  ftorm  at  fea  is  not  infeparably  connected  with  wm- 

.ter  in  this  climate. 

"5,  A  word  proper  to  an  attribute,  employ'd  figura- 
tively to  denote  the  fubject. 

Touth  and  beauty  for  thofe  who  are  young  and  beau- 

tiful : 

'''Vbiith  and  beauty  (hall  be  laid  In  duft. 

Maj.ejiy  for  the  King  : 
'What  art  thou,  that  ufurp'ft  this  time  of  night, 

■  ■'Together  with  that  fair  and  v/arlike  form. 
In  which  the  Majejly  of  buried  Denmark 
Did  fometime  march?  Hamlet,  a^  i.  fc  i. 

•<;.i:j- Or  have  ye  chofen  this  place 

After  the  toils  of  battle,  to  repofe 

;  Your  weary'd  lirtue  ?  Paradife  lojl. 

.     Ferdure  for  a  green  field.  Summer,  I.  301. 

■Speaking  of  cranes. 
To  pigmy  nations  wounds  and  death  they  brmg, 
And  all  the  icar  defcends  upon  the  wing. 

Iliad  III.    10. 

Cool  age  advances  venerably  wife.  Iliad  iii.   149. 

The  peculiar  beauty  of  this  figure  arifes  from  lug- 
gefting  an  attribute  that  embellilhes  the  fuhject,  or  puts 
it  in  a  Ihonger  light. 

6,  A  complex  term  employ'd  figuratively  to  denote 
one  of  the  component  parts. 

Fnnus  for  a  dead  body.     Burial  for  a  grave. 

7.  The 


Se<5V.  VII.  Figures.  ipy 

7.  The  name  of  one  of  the  component  parts  inftead 
of  the  complex  term. 

7a'iia  for  a  marriage.  The  Eaji  for  a  country  fitua- 
ted  eaft  from  us.  Jovis  njeftigia  fevuat,  for  imitatino- 
Jupiter  in  general. 

8.  A  word  fignlfying  time  or  place,  employ'd  figu- 
ratively to  denote  what  is  connected  with  it. 

Clime  for  a  nation,  or  for  a  conftitution  of  govern- 
ment :  hence  the  expreffion,  Merciful  dim;,  Fleecy 
ivinter  for  fnow,  Seculum  felix. 

9    A  part  for  the  whole. 

The  pole  for  the  earth.     The  head  for  the  perfon  : 

Triginta  minas  pro  capita  tuo  dedi.  Plautus. 

Tergum  for  the  man : 

Fugiens  tergum,  Ovid. 

Vultus  for  the  man : 

Jam  fulgor  armorum  fugaces 

Terret  equos,  equitumque  vultus.  Horat. 

Qiiis  defiderio  fit  pudor  aut  modus 

1  am  chari  capitis  ?  .  Horat. 

Dumque  vigent  genua  ?  Horat. 

Thy  growing  virtues  juftify'd  my  cares. 

And  promis'd  comfort  to  my  filler  hairs. 

Iliad  IX.  616. 

Forthwith  from  the  pool  he  rears 

His  mighty  fiature.  Paradife  loft. 

The  filent  heart  which  grief  aflails.  Parnell.  ^ 

The  peculiar  beauty  of  this  figure  confifts  in  marking 
that  part  which  makes  the  greateft  figure. 

10.  The  name  of  the  container,  employ'd  figurative- 
ly to  fignify  what  is  contained. 

Grove  for  the  birds  in  it,  Vocal  grove-  Ships  for 
the  feamen,  Agonizing  fhips.  Mountains  for  the  fheep 
pafturing  upon  them,  Bleating  inountains.  Zacynthus, 
Ithaca,  iJc.  for  the  inhabitants.  Ex  mcsflis  domibus. 
Livy. 

11.  The  name  of  the  fuftainer,  employ'd  figurative- 
ly to  fignify  what  is  fuftained. 

I  2  Altar 


I^S  Figures.  Ch.XX.  ; 

Altar  for  the  facrifice.     Field  for  the  battle  fought  ! 

upon  it,  Well-fought  field.  ^  j 

12.  The  name  of  the  materials,  employ'd  figurative-  i 
ly  to  fignify  the  things  made  of  them.  j 

Ferrum  for  gladius.  j 

13.  The  names  of  the  Heathen  deities,  employ'd  fi-  | 
.  guratively  to  fignify  what  they  patronile.  j 

Jo^e  for  the  air.  Mars  for  War,  Venus  for  beauty,  j 

Cupid  for  love,  Ceres  for  corn,   Neptune  for  tne   lea,  j 

Vulcan  for  fire.  i 

This  figure  beftows  great  elevation  upon  the  fubject ;  .j 

and  therefore  ought  to  be  confined  to  the  higher  Ihains  j 
of  poetry. 

SECOND    TABLE. 

Attributes  exprefied  figuratively. 

When  two  attributes  are  connected,  the  name  of  the  : 
•ne  may  be  employ'd  figuratively  to  expiefs  the  other. 

Purity  and  virginity  are  attributes  of  the  fame  perfon: 
hence  the  exprelfion,'  Virgin  fnow,  for  pure  fnow. 

2  A  word  fignifying  properly  an  attribute  of  one 
fubject,  employ'd  figuratively  to  exprefs  a  refembling 
attribute  of  another  fubject. 

Tottering  ftate.  Imperious  ocean.  Angry  flood. 
Raging  tempefl:.     Shalloiv  fears. 

My  fure  divinity  (hall  bear  the  fhield, 

And  edge  thy  fword  to  reap  the  glorious  field. 

^  Odyfiey  XX.  61. 

Black  omen,  for  an  omen  that  portends  bad  fortune. 

Ater  odor.  ^'^'g'^'    , 

The  peculiar  beauty  of  this  figure  arifes  from  fugged-. 

ing  a  comparifon.  I 

3.  A  word   proper  to  the  fubjed,  employ'd  to  ex-| 

prefs  one  of  its  attributes.  j 

Mens  for  intelle£}us.     Mens  for  a  refolution  :  i 

Iftam,  oro,  exue  mentem. 

jL   When  two  fubjedts  have  a  refemblance  by  a  com 

^*  nior 


Se6l .  VII.  Figures.  199 

nion  quality,  the  name  of  the  one  fubje£t  may  be  em- 
pioy'd  figuratively  to  denote  that  quality  in  the  other. 
Summer  life,  for  agreeable  life. 

5.  The  name  of  the  inftrument  made  to  fignif/  the 
power  of  employing  it. 

Melpomene,  cui  liquidam  pater 

Vocem  cum  cithara  dedit. 

The  ample  field  of  figurative  expreflian  difplay'd  m 
thefe  tables,  affords  great  fcope  for  reafoning.  Several 
of  the  obfervations  relating  to  metaphor,  are  applicable 
ro  figures  of  fpeech  :.  thefe  I  fhall  (lightly  retouch,  with 
feme  additions  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  prefent  fubject. 

In  the  firft  place,  as  the  figure  under  confideration  is 
built  upon  relation,  we  find  from  experience,  and  it  mult 
be  obvious  from  reafon,  that  the  beauty  of  the  figur^ 
depends  on  the  intimacy  of  the  relation  between  the  fi^' 
gurative  and  proper  fenfe  of  the  word.  A  flight  re- 
membrance, in  particular,  will  never  make  this  figure 
agreeable :  the  expreffion,  for  example,  Drink  down  a 
fecret,  for  liftening  to  a  fecret  with  attention,  Is  harfti 
and  uncouth,  becaufe  there  is  fcarce  any  refemblance 
between  lifiening  and  drinking.  The  expreffion  'weigh- 
ty crack,  ufed  by  Ben  Johnfon  for  loud  crack,  is  worfe 
if  poffibie:  a  loud  found  has  not  the  flighteft  refem- 
blance to  a  piece  of  matter  that  is  weighty.  The  fol- 
lowing expreffion  of  Lucretius  is  not  lefs  faulty,  "  Ee 
♦'  lepido  qus  funt  fucata  fonore."    i.  645. 

' — Sed  magis 

Pugnas  et  exactos  tyrannos 
Denlum  humeris  bibit  aure  vulgus. 

Hot  at.  Carm.  I.  2.  ode  13. 
Phemius !  let  acts  of  gods,  and  heroes  old. 
What  antient  bards  in  hall  and  bow'r  have  told, 
Attemper'd  to  the  lyre,  your  voice  employ. 
Such  the  pleas'd  ear  luill  drink  with  filent  joy. 
e        .  OdyJJey,  u  433; 

btrepttumque  exterritus  y^^z///.  ^neid  vl   559, 

■~ ~ ■ -Write,  my  Queen, 

And  with  mme  eyes  I'll  drink  the  words  you  fend. 

Cymbe/ine,  a^  i.fc.z: 
I3 


200  Figures.  Ch.  XX. 

As  thus  th*  effulgence  tremulous  I  drink. 

Summer,  I.  1 684.; 
Neque  audit  currus  habenas.  Georg.  i.  514. 

O  Prince!  (Lycaon's  valiant  fon  reply'd), 
As  thine  the  Heeds,  be  thine  the  tafk  to  guide. 
The  horfes  practis'd  to  their  lord's  conunand, 
Shall  hear  the  rein,  and  anfwer  to  thy  hand. 

Iliad  w.  288. 
The  following  figures  of  fpeech  feem  altogether  wild 
and  extravagant,  the  figurative  and  proper  meanings  hav- 
ing no  connection  whatever.  Mo^jing  ibftnefs,  Fiefh- 
nels  breathes.  Breathing  profpect,  Flotving  fpring,  Deiuy 
light.  Lucid  coolnefs,  and  many  others  of  this  falfe  coin 
may  be  found  in  Thoiufon's  Seafons. 

Secondly,  The  proper   fenfe  of  the  word  ought  ta 
bear  fome  proportion  to  the  figurative  fenfe,  and  not 
foar  much  above  it,  nor  fink  much  below  it.    This  rule, 
as  well  as  the  foregoing,  is  finely  illuftrated  by  Vida;. 
Hsec  adeo  cum  fint,  cum  fas  audere  poetis 
Multa  modis  niuitis;  tamen  obfervare  memento. 
Si  quando  baud  propriis  rem  mavis  dicere  veibis, 
Tranflatilque  aliunde  notis,  longeque  petitis, 
Ne  nimiam  oftendas,  qusrendo  talia,  curam. 
Namque  aliqui  exercent  vim  duram,  et  rebus  inlque 
Nativam  eripiunt  formam,  indignantibus  ipfis, 
Invitalque  jubent  alienos  fumeie  vultus. 
Haud  m.agis  imprudens  mihi  erit,  et  luminis  expers, 
Qui  puero  ingentes  habitus  det  ferre  gigantis, 
Quam  fiquis  Itabula  alta  lares  appellee  equinos, 
Aut  Cfines  magnse  genetricis  gramina  dic;u. 

Pdet.   iii.    148. 
Thirdly,  In  a  figure  of  fpeech,  every  circumftance 
ought  to  be  avoided  that  agrees  with  the  proper  fenfe 
only,  not  the  figurative  fenfe  ;  for  it  is  the  latter  that 
expreffes  the  thought,  and  the  former  ferves  for  no  other 
purpofe  but  to  make  harmony  : 
Zacynthus  green  with  ever  fhady  groves, 
And  Ithaca,  prefumptuous  boaft  their  lov«s  i 
Obtruding  on  my  choice  a  fecond  lord, 
'J^hej  prefs  ihe  Hymenean  rite  abhorr'd. 

OdjJ/'ej,   Ti'iX.    152. 
Zacynthus 


Se^t.VII.  F  I  c  u  R  B  s.  201 

Zacynthus  here  ftanding  figuratively  for  the  inhabitants, 
the  defcription  of  the  idand  is  quite  out  of  place  :  it 
puzzles  the  reader,  by  making  him  doubt  whether  the 
word  ought  to  be  taken  in  its  proper  or  figurative  fenfe. 

-  . Write,  my  Queen, 

And  with  mine  eyes  I'll  drink  the  words  you  fend. 
Though  ink  be  made  of  gall.     Cymbeline,  a6l  i.fc.  2. 

The  difguft  one  has  to  drink  ink  in  reality,  is  not  to  the 
purpofe  where  the  fubje£l  is  drinking  ink  figuratively. 

In  the  fourth  place.  To  draw  confequences  from  a 
figure  of  fpeech,  as  if  the  word  were  to  be  underftood 
literally,  is  a  grofs  abfurdity,  for  it  is  confounding  truth 
with  fidion  : 
Be  Moubray's  fins  fo  heavy  in  his  bofom, 
That  they  may  break  his  foaming  courfer's  back. 
And  throw  the  rider  headlong  in  the  lifts, 
A  caitiff  recreant  to  my  coufin  Hereford. 

Richard  II,  a3  i.  fc-.  ^, 

Sin  may  be  imagined  heavy  in  a  figurative  fenfe :  btit 
weight  in  a  proper  fenfe  belongs  to  the  acceffory  only  ;.. 
and  therefore  to  defcribe  the  effects  of  weight,  is  to  de- 
fert   the  principal  fubject,  and  to  convert  the  accellbry 
into  a  principal  : 

Cromivell.  How  does  your  Grace  ? 
IVolfey.   Why,  well; 
Never  fo  truly  happy,  my  good  Cromwell. 
I  know  myfeif  now,  and  I  feel  within  me 
A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities,  " 
A  ftill  and  quiet  confcience.     The  King  has  cur'd  me, 
I  humbly  thank  his  Grace ;  and,  from  thefe  fiioulders, 
Thefe  ruin'd  pillars,  out  of  pity,  taken 
A  load  would  fink  a  navy,  too  much  honour. 

Henry  \m.  aa^.  fc.6, 
Ulyffes  fpeaking  of  Hector : 
I  wonder  now  how  yonder  city  ftands. 
When  we  have  here  the  bafe  and  pillar  by  us. 

Trotlus  and  CreJJida,  a£i  4,  fc.  9. 

Othello.  No  ;  my  heart  is  turn'd  to  ftone;  I  ftrike  it, 
and  it  hurts  my  hand.  Othdhf  a£l  4.  fc.  5. 

I  4  Not 


»02 


I    G    U    R    E    S. 


Ch.  XX. 


Not  lefs,  even  in  this  defpicable  now, 
Than  when  my  name  fill'd  Afric  witli  affrights, 
•And  froze  your  hearts  beneath  your  torrid  zone. 

Don  Sebaflian  King  of  Portugal,  ad  i. 
How  long  a  fpace,  fince  firft  I  lov'd,  it  is! 

To  look  into  a  glafs  I  fear,. 
And  am  furpris'd  with  wonder,  when  T  mifs, 
Grey  hairs  and  wrinkles  there. 

Covjley,  'vol.  I.   p.  86, 
1  chofe  the  flourifhing'ft  tree  in  all  the  park, 

With  frefhefl:  boughs,  and  fairefl:  head  j 
I  cut  my  love  into  its  gentle  bark. 

And  in  three  days  behold  'tis  dead  ; 
My  very  written  flames  h  violent  be. 
They've  burnt  and  wither'd  up  the  tree. 

Coivley,  -vol.  I.  p.  136.* 
Ah,  iTiighty  Love,  that  it  were  inward  heat 
Which  ruade  this  precious  limbeck  fweat  ! 

But  what,  alas !  ah  what  does  it  avail 
That  fhe  weeps  tears  fo  wond'rous  cold, 
As  fcarce  the  afs's  hoof  can  hold, 

So  cold,  that  I  admire  they  fall  not  hail. 

Coivley,  'vol.  i.  p.  i^z4 
Such  a  play  of  words  is  pleafant  in  a  ludicrous  poeir 
Mmeria.   Alphonfo,  O  Alphonfo! 
Devouring  feas  have  vvafli'd  thee  from  my  fight, . 
No  time  fhall  rafe  thee  from  my  memory ; 
No,  I  will  live  to  be  thy  monument  : 
The  cruel  ocean  is  no  more  thy  tomb; 
But  in  my  heart  thou  art  interr'd. 

Mourning  Bride,  a£l  I.  fc.  Ifl 

This  would  be  very  right,  if  there  were  any  inconfif 
ence,  in  being  interred  in  one  place  really,  and  in  anc 
thcr  place  figuratively. 

Je  Grains  que  cette  faifon 

Ne  nous  amene  la  pefte  j 

La  gueule  du  chien  celefte 

Vomit  feu  fur  I'horifon. 

Afin  que  je  m'en  delivre, 

Je  veux  lire  ton  gros  livre 

Jufques  au  de;nix:r  fe/iillet:  *' 

Toi 


Se6l.  VII.  F  I  G  u  R  i:  s.  203 

Tout  ce  que  ta  plume  trace, 
Robiner,  a  de  la  glace 

A  fair  trembler  Juiilet.  Maynfird. 

In  me  tota  ruens  Venus 

Cyprum  deferuit.  Horat.  Carm,  lib.  i.  ode  19. 
From  confidering  that  a  word  ufed  in  a  figurative 
fenfe  fuggefts  at  the  fame  time  its  proper  meaning,  we 
difcover  a  fifth  rule,  That  we  ought  not  to  employ  a, 
word  in  a  figurative  fenfe,  the  proper  fenfe  of  which  is 
inconfirtent  or  incongruous  with  the  fubjeft ;  for  every 
inconfiftency,  and  even  incongruity,  though  in  the  ex- 
preflion  only  and  not  real,  is  unpleafant  ; 
Interca  genitor  Tyberini  ad  fluminis  undam 

Vu\neTa.  ftcrabat  lymphis JEneid.  x.  833.' 

Tres  adeo  incertos  cseca  caligine  fole^ 
Erramus  pelago,  totidem  fine  fidere  nodes, 

JEneid.  iii.  203.' 
The  foregoing  rule  may  be  extended  to  form  a  fixth, 
1  hat  no  epithet  ought  to  be  given  to  the  figurative  fenfe 
of  a  word  that  agrees  not  alfo  with  its  proper  (enk : 

; —  Dicat  Opuntis 

Frater  Megillse,  quo  beatus 
Vulnere.   -  Horat.  Carm.  lib.  i 

Parcus  deorum  cultor,  et  infrequens, 
Infanientis  dum  fapientis 

Confultus  erro,  Horat.  Carm.  I.  i.  ode  34. 

Seventhly,  The  crowding  into  one  period  or  thought 
different  figures  of  fpeech,  is  not  lefs  faulty  than  crowd- 
ing metaphors  in  that  manner :  the  mind  is  diftraded  in 
the  quick  tranfition  from  one  image  to  another,  and  is 
pu7,zled  inltead  of  being  pleafed  : 
I  am  of  ladies  moft  dejea  and  wretched. 
That  fuck'd  the  honey  of  his  mufic-vows,       Hamlet. 
My  bleeding  bofom  fickens  at  the  found. 

,,        .,  Odyjfey,  \.  439. 

'  "■ —  Ah  mifer, 

Qnanta  laboras  in  Cy^^rv^^// 
Digne  puer  m^Wox^  fiamma. 
Qua:  faga,  quis  te  folvere  ThefTalis 
Magus  'venenisy  quis  poterit  deus  ? 


27. 


2<^A  Figures.  Ch.XX.. 

Vix  illigatura  te  triformi 
Pegalus  expediet  Chimera. 

Moral.  Cann.  lih.  i.   oih  27. 
Eighthly,  If  crowding  figures  be  bad,  it  is  ftill  worfe 
to  graft  one  figure  upon  another:  For  inftance, 
While  his  keen  falchion  drinks  the  warriois  lives, 

Iliad  xi.   2  >  I . 

A.  falchion  drinking  the  warriors  blood  is  a  figure  built 
upon  refembiance,  which  is  paiTable.  But  then  in  the 
expreffion,  lives  is  again  put  for  blood;  and  by  thus 
grafting  one  figure  upon  another,  the  exprelhon  is  ren- 
dered obfcure  and  unpleafant. 

Ninthly,   Intricate   and    involved   figures,    that    can 
fcarce  be  analyfed,  or  reduced  to  plain  language,  are 
leaft  of  all  tolerable  : 
Votisincendlmus'aras.  Mneid.  iii.  279. 


Onerantque  caniftris- 


Dona  laborats  Cereris.  JEneid.  viii.   iSc 

Vulcan  to  the  Cyclopes : 
Arma  acri  facienda  viro :  nunc  viribus  ufus. 
Nunc  manibus  rapidis,  omni  nunc  arte  niagirtra : 
Pracifitate  mor?i3.  JEneid.  vai.  44.1. 

. Huic  gladio,  perque  aerea  futa 

Per  tunicam  fqudentem  auro,  latus  haurit  apertum. 

Mneid.  X.  313. 

Semotique  prius  tarda  neceflitas 
Lethi>  corripuit  gradum. 

Hornt.  Carm.  hb.  i.  ode  3. 

Scriberis  Vario  fortis,  et  'hoftium 
Viftor,  Msonii  carininis  alite.  , 

Horat.  Carm.   lib.  i .  ode  6. 

Elfe  (hall  our  fates  be  number'd  with  .the  dead. 

Iliad.  V,   294.. 

Commutual  death  the  fate  of  war  confounds. 

Iliad  viii.   85.  and  xi.    117. 

Speaking  of  Proteus, 
Inftant  he  wears,  elufive  of  the  rape, 
The  mimic  force  of  every  favage  fhape. 

Od:fJ}ey  IV.   563; 
Rolling 


Se6t.  VII.  Figures.  205 

Rolling  convulfive  on  the  floor,  is  feen 
The  piteous  object  of  a  proftrate  Queen. 

3id.  IV.  953, 

The  mingling  tempeft  weaves  its  gloom. 

Autumn,  337, 

A  various  fweetnefs  fwells  the  gentle  race. 

Ibid.  640, 

A  fober  calm  fleeces  unbounded  aether,        IbiJ.  967, 

The  diftant  water-fall  fwells  in  the  breeze, 

IVinter,   73  S. 

In  the  tenth  place,  When  a  fubjeft  is  introduced  hy 
its  proper  name,  it  is  abfurd  to  attribute  to  it  the  pro- 
perties of  a  different  fubject  to  which  the  word  is  fome- 
times  apply'd  in  a  figurative  fenfe  : 

Hear  me,  oh  Neptune  !  thou  whofe  arms  are  hurl'd 
From  fliore  to  ftiore,  and  gird  the  folid  world. 

OdyJJey,  ix.  617. 

Neptune  is  here  introduced  perfonall/,  and  not  figura- 
tively fo;-  the  ocean  :  the  defcription  therefore,  which  is 
only  applicable  to  the  latter,  is  altogether  improper. 

It  is  not  fufficient,  that  a  figure  of  fpeech  be  regu- 
larly conrtrufled,  and  be  free  from  blemifh:  it  requires 
tafte  to  difcern  when  it  is  proper  when  improper  j  and 
tafte,  I  fufpect,  is  our  only  guide.  One  however  may 
gather  from  reflection  and  experience,  that  ornaments 
and  graces  fuit  not  any  of  the  difpiriting  pailions,  nor 
are  proper  for  exprefllng  any  thing  grave  and  iiiiportanf. 
In  familiar  converfation,  they  are  in  lome  meafuie  ridi- 
culous: Profpero,  in  the  Tempejl,  fpeaking  to  hisdaught-  . 
er  Miranda,  fays, 

The  fringed  curtains  of  thine  eyes  advance, 
And  fay  what  thou  feed  yond. 

No  exception  can  be  taken  to  the  juflinefs  of  the  .figure ;  ; 
and  circumftances  may  be  imagined  to  make  it  proper  : 
but  it  is  certainly  not  proper  in  familiar  converfation. 

In  the  lafl:  place,  Though  figures  of  fpeech  have  a 
charming  effeft  when  accurately  conftruQed  and.  pro- 
perly introduced,  they  ought  however  to  be  fcattered 
with  a  fparing  hand:  nothing  is  more  lufcious,  and  no-  • 

thing  ^ 


5:o6  Ntlrratton  and  Ch.  XXL 

thing  confequently  more  fatiating,  than  redundant  Of- 
:'»anrenls  of  any  kind. 

CHAP.       XXI. 

Narration  and  Description. 

HORACE,  and  many  critics  after  him,  exhort  wri- 
ters to  chufe  a  lubjeft  adapted  to  their  genius, 
hiuch  peculiarities  would  multiply  rules  of  criticifm 
without  end  ;  and  at  any  rate  belong  not  to  the  prefent 
work,  the  obje£t  of  which  is  human  nature  in  general, 
and  what  is  common  to  the  fpecics.  But  though  the 
choice  of  a  fubjedt  comes  not  under  fuch  a  plan,  the 
manner  of  execution  comes  under  it;  becaufe  the  man- 
ner of  execution  is  fubjedled  to  general  rules,  derived 
from  principles  common  to  the  fpecies.  Thefe  rules, 
;is  they  concern  the  things  exprelTed  as  well  as  the  lan- 
guage or  expreflion,  require  a  divifion  of  this  chapter 
into  two  pai  ts  ;  firft  of  thoughts,  and  next  of  words. 
I  pretend  not  tojullil'y  this  divifion  as  eniiely  accurate: 
for  in  difcourfing  of  thoughts,  it  is  difficult  to  abllraft 
altogether  from  words  ;  and  ftili  more  difficult,  in  dif- 
courfing of  words,  to  abftraQ  altogether  from  thought. 

The  firft  rule  is,  That  in  hlftory,  the  refleftions 
ought  to  be  chafte  and  folid  ;  for  while  the  mind  is  in- 
tent upon  truth,  it  is  little  difpofed  to  the  operations  of 
the  imagination.  Strada's  Belgic  hiftory  is  full  of  poe- 
tical im.ages,  which,  being  difcordant  with  the  fubjet^, 
are  unpleafant ;  and  they  have  a  ftill  worfe  cfFed,  by 
giving  an  air  of  fiftion  to  a  genuine  hiftory.  Such  flow- 
ers ought  to  be  Icattered  with  a  fparing  hand,  even  in 
epic  poetry  J  and  at  no  rate  are  they  proper,  till  the 
reader  be  warmed,  and  by  an  enlivened  imagination  be 
prepared  to  relifh  them  :  in  that  ftate  of  mind,  they  are 
extremely  agreeable  ;  but  while  we  are  fedate  and  at- 
tentive to  an  hiftorical  chain  of  fafts,  we  reject  with 
difdain  every  fiction.  This  Belgic  hiftory  is  indeed  wo- 
fuUy  vicious  both  in  matter  and  in  form:  it  is  ftuffed 
Vfhh  frigid  and  unmeaning  reflections;  and  its  poetical 
flafties,  even  laying  alide  their  impropriety,  are  mere 
tinfel. 

Second!/, 


a 


Ch.XXI.  DEscRiPTroN,   ,  207 

Secondly,  Vida  *,  following  Horace,  Tecommends  a 
modeft  commencement  of  an  epic  poem  ;  giving  for  a 
reafon.  That  the  writer  ought  to  hulhand  his  fire.  This 
reafon  has  weight  ;  but  what  is  faid  above  fuggefts  a 
reafon  flill  more  weighty  :  bold  tlioughts  and  figures  arc 
never  rclifted  till  the  mind  be  heated  and  thoroughly  en- 
gaged, which  is  not  the  reader's  cafe  at  the  commence- 
ment. Homer  introduces  not  a  fingle  fimile  in  the  firft 
hook  of  the  i'iid,  nor  in  the  firfl;  book  of  the  Odyffey, 
On  the  other  hand,  Shiikefpear  begins  one  of  his  plays 
with  a  fentiment  too  bold  for  the  mod  heated  imagi- 
nation : 

Bedford.  Hung  be  the  heav'ns  with  black,  yield  day 
to  night  ! 
Comets,  importing  change  of  times  and  ftates, 
Brandilh  your  cryftal  trefles  in  the  fKy, 
And  with  them  fcourge  the  bad  revolting  ftars. 
That  have  confented  unto  Henry's  death! 
Henry  the  Fifth,  too  famous  to  live  long  ! 
England  ne'er  loft  a  king  of  fo  much  worth. 

Firji  part,  Henry  VI. " 
The  paffage  with  which  Strada  begins  his  hiftory,  is  too 
ppetical  for  a  fubject  of  that  kind  ;  and  at  any  rate  too 
high  for  the  beginning  of  a  grave  performance.  A  third 
reafon  ought  to  have  not  lefs  influence  than  either  of 
the  foimer.  That  a  man  who,  upon  his  firll:  appearance, 
drains  to  maJce  a  figure,  is  too  oftentatious  to  be  relifhed. 
Hence  the  firft  fentences  of  a  work  ought  to  be  fliort, 
natural,  and  iimple.  Cicero,  in  his  oration  pro  Archia 
poeta,  errs  againft  that  rule :  his  reader  is  out  of  breath 
at  the  very  firft  period  ;  which  feems  never  to  end. 
Burnet  begins  the  hiftory  of  his  own  times  with  a  pe- 
riod long  and  intricate. 

A  third  rule  or  obfervation  is.  That  where  the  fub- 
ject is  intended  for  entertainment  folely,  not  for  inftruc- 
tion,  a  thing  ought  to  be  defcribed  as  it  appears,  not 
as  it  is  in  reality.  In  running,  for  example,  the  im- 
pulfe  upon  the  ground  is  proportioned  in  lome  degree 
to  the  celerity  of  motion  j  though  in  appearance  it  is 

otherwife> 

*  Poet.  lib.  2.  1.  30, 


2,o8  Narration  and  Ch.  XXI. 

otherwife,  for  a  perfon  in  fwift  motion  feems  to  iTcim 
the  ground,  and  fcarcely  to  touch  it.     Virgil,  with  great 
tafte,  defcribes  quick   running  according  to  its  appear- 
ance ;  and  thereby  raifes  an  image  far  more  lively,  thaa 
it  could  have  been  by  adliering  Icrupuloufly  to  truth  : 
Hos  fuper  advenit  Volfca  de  gente  Caaiiila, 
Agmen  agens  equitum  et  florente?  re-e  catervas, 
IJellatrix  :  non  ilia  co!o  calathifve  Minervae 
Fcemineas  afTueta  iiianus ;  fed  prslia  virgo 
Dura  pati,  ciuruque  pedum  prsevertcre  ventos. 
l!la  vel  intafls  fe^etis  per  funima  volaret 
Gramina:   nee  tencras  curfu  IxfiiTet  ariltas: 
Vcl  mare  per  niediimi,  fluctu  fufpenfa  tunientl, 
Ferret  iterj  celeres  nee  tingeret  aequore  planus. 

JEneid.  vii.   803. 

This  example  is  copied  by  the  author  of  Telemacbus : 

Les  Brutiens  font  legeres  a  la  courfe  comme  les  ceifs,  . 
et  comme  les  daims.     On  cioiroit  que  I'herbe  meme  la 
plus  tendre  n'eft  point  fou!ee  fous  leurs  pieds ;  a  peine 
laiffent  ils  dans  le  fable  quelques  traces  de  leurs  pas. 

Linj.  10. 

Again  : 

Deja  il  avoit  abattu  Eufilas  fi  leger  a  la  courfe,  qu'd 
peine  il  impiimoit  !a  trace  des  fes  pas  dans  le  fable,  et 
qui  devancoit  dans  fon  pay%  les  plus  rapides  flots  de  I' 
Eurotas  et  de  I'Alphee.  /-''^   20. 

Fourthly,  In  narration  as  well  as  in  defcription,  ob- 
jefts  ought  to  be  painted  fo  accurately  as  to  form  in  the 
mind  of  the  reader  diftinft  and  lively  images.  Every 
ufelefs  circumllance  ought  indeed  to  be  fuppreffed,  be- 
caule  every  fuch  circumftance  loads  the  narration  ;  but 
if  a  circumftance  be  neceffary,  however  flight,  it  can- 
not be  defcribed  too  minutely.  The  force  of  language 
confifts  in  raifing  complete  images  *  ;  which  have  the 
effed  to  tranfport  the  reader  as  by  magic  into  the  very 
place  of  the  important  adtion,  and  to  convert  him  as  il 
were  into  a  fpedtator,  beholding  every  thing  that  palfes. 
The  narrative  in  an  epic  poem  ought  to  rival  a  picture 
in  the  livelinefs  and  accuracy  of  its  reprefentations:  no 

circumftance 

*  Chap.  2.  part  i.  fed.  7. 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  209 

circumftance  muft  be  omitted  that  tends  to  make  a  com- 
plete   image  ;  becaiife  an   imperfect  image,  as  well  as 
any  other  imperfeft  conception,  is  cold  and  unintereft- 
inff.      I  fhal!  illuftrate  this  rule  by  feveral  examples,  giv- 
ing the  firll  place  to  a  beautiful  palfage  from  Virgil  ; 
Quz\\s  populed  mcetens  Philomela  fub  umbra 
Amiffos  querirur  Icetus,  quos  durus  arator 
Obfervans  nido  implumes  detraxit. 

Georg.   lib.  4,  /.  5 1  j . 
The  poplar,  plowman,  and  unfledged  fwallows,  though 
not  eirential   in   the  defcription,  are  circumftances  thai: 
tend  to  make  a  complete  image,  a.nd  upon  that  account 
are  an  embellifhment. 
Again : 
Hie  viridem  yEneas  frondenti  ex  ilice  metam 
Conftituit,  fignum  nautis.  Mneid.  v.    129. 

Horace,  addrelfing  to  Fortune  : 
Te  pauper  ambit  follicita  prece 
Ruris  colonus:  te  dominam  sequoris, 
Quicumque  Bithyna  laceffit 
Carpathium  pelagus  carina. 

Carm.  lih.  i.  ode  31^. 
—r —  Ilium  ex  moenibus  hoflicia 
Matrona  bellantis  tyranni 
Profpiciens,  et  adulta  virgo, 
Sufpiret :  Eheu,  ne  rudis  agminum 
Sponl'us  laceffcit  regius  afperum 
Tadtu  leonem,  quern  Cfuenta 

Per  medias  rapit  ira  cedes.  Carm.  lib.  3.  ode  2. 
Shakefpear  fays  *,  "  You  may  as  well  go  about  to 
"  turn  the  fun  to  ice  by  fanning  in  his  face  with  a  peO'. 
"  cock'%  feather."  The  peacock's  feather,  not  to  men- 
tion the  beauty  of  the  object,  completes  the  image;  ara 
accurate  image  cannot  be  formed  of  that  fanciful  ope- 
ration, without  conceiving  a  particular  feather}  and  one 
is  at  a  lofs  when  this  is  neglefted  in  the  defcription. 
Again,  "  The  rogues  flighted  me  into  the  river  with  as 
"  little  remorfe,  as  they  would  have  drown'd  a  bitch's 
"  blind  puppies,  fifteen  i' th' litter  f." 

Old  Lady. 

*  Henry  V.  aft  4.   fc.  4. 

t  Merry  Wives  of  Windfor,  aft  3.  fc.  15. 


210  Narration  and  Ch.  XXI. 

Old  Lady.  You  would  not  be  a  queen? 
yinne.  No,  not  for  all  the  riches  under  heaven. 
Old  Lady.  'Tis  ftrange  :  a  three-pence  bow'd  would 
hire  me,  old  as  I  am,  to  queen  it. 

Henry  VIII.  ad  2.  fc.  5, 

In  the  followlns;  pafTage,  the  aflion,  with  all  its  mate- 
rial circunnftances.  is  reprelentcu  To  n.i.ch  ro  the  life, 
that  it  would  fcace  apperir  more  dirtiidt  to  a  red  fpec- 
tator  ;  and  it  is  the  manner  of  defc:iption  that  contri- 
butes greatly,  to  the  iublimity  of  the  palTage. 

He  fpake ;  and  to  confirm  his  words,  out  flew 
Millions  of  flaming  fwords,  drawn  from  tha  thighs 
Of  mighty  cherubim  ;  the  fudden  blaze 
Far  round  illumin'd  hell  :  highly  they  rag'd 
Againft  the  Pligheft,  and  fierce  with  grafped  arms, 
Clafii'd  on  their  founding  fhields  the  din  of  war. 
Hurling  defiance  toward  the  vault  of  heav'n. 

Milton,  b.  I. 

A  pafTage  T  am  to  cite  from  Shakefpear,  falls  not  much 
fhort  of   that  now  mentioned  in  particularity  of  dcf- 
cription  : 
O  you  hard  hearts !  you  cruel  men  of  Rome! 
Knew  you  not  Pompey  ?  Many  a  time  and  oft 
Have  you  climb'd  up  to  walls  and  battlements, 
T'o  towers  and  windows,  yea,  to  chimney  tops. 
Your  infants  in  your  arms ;  and  there  have  fat 
The  live-long  day  wirh  patient  expeilation 
To  fee  great  Pompey  pafs  the  ftreets  of  Rome. 
And  when  you  faw  his  chariot  but  appear, 
Have  you  not  made  an  univerfal  fhout. 
That  Tyber  trembled  underneath  his  banks> 
To  hear  the  replication  of  your  founds. 
Made  in  his  concave  (hores .'' 

Julius  Ciffar,  ad  \.  fc.  l. 

The  following  paflage  is  fcarce  inferior  to  either  of 
thofe  mentioned  : 

Far  before  the  reft,  the  Ton  of  Oflian  comes ;  bright 
in  the  fmiles  of  youth,  fair  as  the  firll  beams  of  the  lun. 
His  long  hair  waves  on  his  back:  his  dark  brow  is  half 
beneath  his  hehnet.     The  fword  hangs  loofe  on  the  be- 

lo's 


Ch.  XXL  Description.  2ri 

ro's  ficle  ;  and  his  fpear  glitters  as  he  moves.  I  fled  from 
his  terrible  eye,  King  of  high  Temora.  Fingal. 

The  Henriade  of  Voltaire  errs  greatly  againS:  the  fore- 
going rule  :  every  incident  is  touched  in  a  fummary  way, 
without  ever  defcending  to  circumftances.  This  man- 
ner is  good  in  a  general  hiftory,  the  purpofe  of  which 
is  to  record  important  tranfactions  :  bur  in  a  fable  it  is 
cold  and  uninterefting :  becaufe  it  is  impracticable  to 
form  diftinct  images  of  perfons  or  things  reprefented  in 
a  manner  fo  fupeificial. 

It  is  obferved  above,  that  every  ufelefs  circumftance 
ought  to  be  fupprelfed.     The  crowding  fuch  circum- 
ftances, is,  on   the  one  hand,  not  lefs  to  be  avoided, 
than   the  concifenefs   for  which  Voltaire  is  blamed,  on 
the  other.     In  the  ^^«p/^  »,  Barce,  the  nurfe  of  Sichaj- 
us,  whom  we  never  hear  of  before  nor  after,  is  introdu- 
ced for  a  purpofe  not  more  important  than  to  call  Anna 
to  her  fiRer  Dido  :   and  that  it  might  not  be  thought  un- 
jufl:  in  Dido,  even  in  this  trivial  incident,  to  prefer  her 
hufband's  nurfe  before  her  own,  the  poet  tr.kes  care  to 
inform  his  reader,  that  Dido'sjiurfe  was  dead.     To  this 
I  muft  oppofe  a   beautiful   paffage  in  the  fame  book, 
where,  after  Dido's  lafl:  fpeech,  the  poet,  without  de- 
taining his  readers  by  defcribing  the  manner  of  her  death, 
haftens  to  the  lamentation  of  her  attendants : 
Dixerat :  atquc  illam  media  inter  talia  ferro 
Collapfam  fufcipiunt  comites,  enfemque  cruore 
Spumantem,  fparfafque  manus.    .It  clamor  ad  alta 
Atria,  concuifam  bacchatur  fama  per  urbem  ; 
Lanientis  gemituque  et  fcemineo  ululatu 
Tecta  fremunt,  refonat  magnis  plangoribus  jether. 

Lib.  4.  /.  ^^-^^ 
As  an  appendix  to  the  foregoing  rule,  I  add  the  fol- 
lowing obfervation.  That  to  make  a  fudden  and  ftrong 
impreffion,  fome  fingle  circumftance  happily  felected, 
has  more  power  than  the  moft  laboured  defcription. 
Macbeth,  mentioning  to  his  lady  fome  voices  he  heard 
while  he  was  murdering  the  King,  fays, 
There's  one  did  laugh  in's  fleep,  and  one  cry'd  Murder? 

They 

*  Lib.  4.  1.  6iz. 

m 


212  Narration  and  Ch.  XXI. 

They  wak'd  each  other ;  and  I  flood  and  heard  them  ; 
But  they  did  fay  their  prayers,  and  addrefs  them 
Again  to  fleep. 

Lady.  There  are  two  lodg'd  together. 

Macbeth.  One   cry'd,  God   blels  us!  and,   Amen! 
the  other ; 
As  they  had  feen  me  with  thefe  hangman's  hands. 
Liftening  their  fear,  J  could  not  fay,  Amen, 
When  they  did  fay,  God  blefs  us. 

Lady.  Confider  it  not  fo  deeply. 

Macbeth.    But   wherefore   could   not   I  pronounce 
Amen  ? 
I  had  moft  need  of  blefling,  and  Amen 
Stuck  in  my  throat. 

Lady.  Thefe  deeds  muft  not  be  thought 
After  thefe  ways;  fo,  it  will  make  us  mad. 

Macbeth.  Methought,  I  heard  a  voice  cry, 
Sleep  no  more ! 
Macbeth  doth  nmrder  fleep,  l^c.  Acl  %.  fc.  3. 

Alphonfo,  in  the  Mourning  Bride,  fliut  up    in    the 
fame  prilon  where  his  father  had  been  confined : 
In  a  dark  corner  of  my  cell  I  found 
This  paper,  what  it  is  this  light  will  (hew. 

"  If  my  Alphonfo" Ha  !  [Reading. 

*'   If  my  Alphonfo  live,  reftore  him,  Heav'n  ; 
*'  Give  me  more  weight,  crufli  my  declining  years 
**  With  bolts,  with  chains,  imprifonment,  and  want ; 
*'  But  blefs  my  fon,   vifit  not  him  for  me." 
.    It  is  his  hand ;  this  was  his  pray'r — yet  more  : 
*'  Let  ev'ry  hair,  which  forrow  by  the  roots  [Reading. 
*'  Tears  from  my  hoary  and  devoted  head, 
«'  Be  doubled  in  thy  mercies  to  my  fon: 

«'  Not  for  myfelf,  but  him,  hear  me,  all-gracious" 

'Tis  wanting  what  (hould  follow — Heav'n  Ihould  follow, 

But  'tis  torn  off — Why  fhould  that  word  alone 

Be  torn  from  his  petition  .''  'Twas  to  Heav'n, 

But  Heav'n  was  deaf,  Heav'n  heard  him  not;  but  thus,. 

Thus  as  the  name  of  Heav'n  from  this  is  torn. 

So  did  it  tear  the  ears  of  mercy  from 

His  voice,  fhutting  the  gates  of  pray'r  againft  him.. 

If  piety  be  thus  debarr'd  accefs 

On  high,  and  of  good  men  the  very  beft 

Ii 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  2i« 

Is  Tingled  out  to  bleed,  and  bear  the  fcourge, 
What  is  reward  ?  or  what  is  puniftment  r 
But  who  (hall  dare  to  tax  eternal  juftice  ? 

Mourning  Bride,  ad  -r^.  fc.  \. 

This  incident  is  a  happy  invention,  and  a  mark  of  un- 
common genius. 
Defcribing  Prince  Henry: 
I  law  young  Harry  with  his  beaver  on. 
His  cuiffes  on  his  thighs,  gallantly  arm'd. 
Rife  from  the  ground'like  feather'd  Mercury; 
And  vaulted  with  fuch  eife  into  his  feat, 
As  if  an  angel  dropt  down  from  the  clouds, 
To  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegafus, 
And  witch  the  world  with  noble  horfemanfliip. 

Firft  party  Uenrj  IV.  ad  4  fc.  2: 

King  Henry.  Lord  Cardinal,  if  thou  think'ft  on  Hea- 
ven's blifs, 
Hold  up  thy  hand,  make  fignal  of  thy  hope. 
He  dies,  and  makes  no  fi:;n  .' 

Second  Part,  .Henry  VI.   ad  3.  fc.  lo. 

The  fame  author,  fpeaking  ludicroufly  of  an  armv  de- 
bilitated vi-ith  difeafes,  fays. 

Half  of  them  dare  not  /hake  the  fnow  from  off  their 
calFocks,  leit  they  Ihake  themfelves  to  pieces. 

I  have  feen  the  walls  of  Balclutha,  but  they  were  de- 
folate.  The  flames  had  refounded  in  the  halls:  and  the 
voice  of  the  people  is  heard  no  more.  The  ftream  of 
Clutha  was  removed  from  its  place  by  the  fall  of  the 
walls.  The  thiftle  /hook  there  its  lonely  head  :  the  mofs 
whirled  to  the  wind.  The  fox  looked  out  from  the  win- 
dows:  and  the  rank  grafs  of  the  w^all  waved  round  his 
head.  Defolate  is  the  dwelling  of  Moina:  filence  is  irj 
the  houfe  of  her  fathers.  Fingal. 

^  To  draw  a  charafter  is  the  mafter-ftroke  of  defcrip- 
^'°j  "i-  ^1"  '^'^  1'acitus  excels :  his  portraits  are  natural 
and  lively,  not  a  feature  wanting  nor  mifplaced.  Shakef- 
pear,  however,  exceeds  Tacitus  in  livelinefs,  fome  cha- 
raaerirtical  circum/tance  being  generally  invented  or  laid 
hold  of,  which  paints  more  to  the  life  than  many  words. 

The 


214  Narration  AND      "    Ch.  XXT. 

The  following  inftances  will  explain  my  meaning,'  and 
at  the  fame  tiine  prove  my  obfervation  to  be  juft. 

Why  fhould  a  man,  whofe  blood  is  warm  within. 

Sit  like  hi3  grandfire  cut  in  alabaftcr  ? 

Sleep  when  he  wakes,  and  creep  into  the  jaundice. 

By  being  peeviOi?   I  tell  thee  what,  Anthonio, 

(I  love  thee,  and  it  is  my  love  that  fpeaks) : 

There  are  a  fort  of  men,  whofe  vifages 

Do  cream  and  mantle  like  a  ftanding  pond  ; 

And  do  a  wilful  ftillnefs  entertain. 

With  purpofe  to  be  drefs'd  in  an  opinion 

Of  wifdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit ; 

As  who  fhould  fay,  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 

And  when  1  ope  my  lips,  let  no  dog  bark! 

O  niy  Anthonio,  I  do  know  of  thofe, 
,  That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wife, 

Fer  faying  nothing.      Merchant  of  Venice,  a6l  i.fc.  2. 
Again  : 

Gratiano  fpeaks  an  infinite  deal  of  nothing,  more  than 
any  man  in  all  Venice :  his  reafons  are  two  grains  of 
wheat  hid  in  two  bufhels  of  chaff ;  you  fhali  feek  all  day 
ere  you  find  them,  and  when  you  have  them,  they  arc 
not  worth  the  fearch.  Ibid. 

In  the  following  pafTage  a  charafler  is  completed  by  a 
lingle  ftroke. 

Shalloiv.  O  the  mad  days  that  I  have  fpent  ;  and  to 
fee  how  many  of  mine  old  acquaintance  are  dead.  1 

Silence.  We  fhall  all  follow,  Coufin.  m 

Shalloiu.  Certain,  'tis  certain,  very  fure,  very  fure;    ■ 
Death  (as  the  Pfahnlft  faith)  Is  certain  to  ail  :  all  fhall 
die.     How  a  ^ood  yoke  of  bullocks  at  Stamford  fail  ? 

Slender.  Truly,  Coufin,  I  was  not  there. 

ShalLvj.  Death  id  certain.  Is  old  Double  of  your 
town  living  yet .? 

Silence.  Dead,  Sir. 

Shadozv.  Dead  !  lee,  fee  ;  he  drew  a  good  bow  :  and 
dead.    He  fhot  a  fine  fhoot.    How  a  fcore  of  ewes  now  ? 

Silence.  Thereafter  as  they  be.  A  fcore  of  good  ewes 
may  be  worth  ten  pounds. 

Sballew.  And  is  old  Double  dead  ? 

Second  Part,  Henry  IV,  «<9  3.  Jc  3. 
Defcribing 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  21^ 

Defcribing  a  jealous  hufband  : 

Neither  prefs,  coffer,  chell,  trunk,  well,  vault,  but 
he  hath  an  abftraft  for  the  remembrance  of  fuch  places, 
and  goes  to  them  by  his  nete.  There  is  no  hiding  you 
in  the  houfe.        Merry  Wives  of  IVindfor,  ad  4.  fc.  3. 

Congreve   has  an   inimitable  ftioke  of  this  kind   in  his 
comedy  of  Loue  for  Lo've  : 

Ben  Legend.  Well,  father,  and  how  do  all  at  home  i" 
how  does  brother  Dick,  and  brother  Val  ? 

^ir  Sampfon.  Dick,  body  o'  me,  Dick  has  been  dead 
thefe  two  years.  I  writ  you  word  when  you  were  at 
Leghorn. 

Ben.  Mefs,  that's  true;  marry,  I  had  forgot.  Dick's 
dead,  as  you  fay.  Ail  3.  fc.  6. 

FalftafF  fpeaking  of  Antlent  Piftol : 

He's  no  fwaggerer,  hoftefs  ;  a  tame  cheater  i'faith ; 
you  may  ftroak  hiai  as  gently  as  a  puppey-greyhound  ; 
he  will  not  fwagger  with  a  Barbary  hen,  if  her  feathers 
turn  back  in  any  fhew  of  refiftance. 

Second  Part,  Henry  IV.  ail  2.  fc.  Q. 

Oflian  among  his  other  excellencies  is  eminently 
fuccefsful  in  drawing  characters  ;  and  he  never  fails  to 
delight  his  reader  wiih  the  beautiful  attitudes  of  his  he- 
roes.    Take  the  following  intlances. 

O  Ofcar !  bend  the  rtrong  in  arm  ;  but  fpare  the  fee- 
ble hand.  Be  thou  a  Ibeam  of  many  tides  ao-ainll  the 
foes  of  thy  people  ;  but  like  the  gale  that  moves  the 
grafs  to  thofe  who  afk  thine  aid. — So  Tremor  lived  j  fuch 
Trathal  was  ;  and  fuch  has  Fingal  been.  My  arm  v/as 
the  fuppoit  of  the  injured ;  and  the  weak  relied  behind 
the  lightning  of  my  iteel. 

We  heard  the  voice  of  joy  on  the  coait,  and  we 
thought  that  the  mighty  Cathmor  came.  Cathmor  the 
friend  of  ftrangers !  the  brother  of  red-haired  Cairbar. 
.But  their  Tjuls  were  not  the  fame  ;  for  the  light  of  hea- 
ven'.was  in  the  bofom  of  Cathmor.  His  towers  rofe  on 
the  banks  of  Atha :  feven  paths  led  to  his  halls:  ftwQn. 
chiefs  rtood  on  thefe  paths,  and  called  the  ftranger  to 
the  fealt.  B-jt  Cathmor  dv/elt  in  the  ^'ocd  to  avoid  the 
voice  of  praife. 

Dermid 


2|5  Narration  AND  Ch.XXF. 

Derniid  and  Olcar  were  one  :  they  reaped  the  battle 
together.  Their  friendlTiip  was  itrong  as  their  fteel  ; 
and  death  walked  between  them  to  the  field.  They  rufli 
on  the  foe  like  two  rocks  failing  from  the  brow  of  Ard« 
ven.  Their  fwords  are  (lained  vvi:h  tlie  blood  of  the 
Valiant:  warriors  faint  at  their  n.inie.  Who  is  equal  to 
Ofcar  but  Detmid  ?   who  to  Derniid  but  Ofcar? 

Son  of  Coinhal,  replied  the  chief,  the  ftrength  of 
Morni's  arm  has  failed  :  1  attempt  to  draw  the  fword  of 
iny  youth,  but  it  remains  in  its  place  :  I  throw  the  fpear, 
but  it  falls  fhort  of  the  mark  :  and  I  feel  the  weight  of 
my  iLield.  We  dec.-iv  like  the  grafs  of  the  mountain, 
and  our  ftrength  r-tu.  ns  no  more.  I  have  a  fon,  O  Fin- 
gal,  his  foul  has  delighted  in  the  a£Hons  of  Morni's 
youth  ;  but  his  fword  iias  not  been  fitted  againft  the  foe, 
neither  has  his  fame  begun.  I  come  with  him  to  bat- 
tle, to  direft  hiu  arm.  His  renown  will  be  a  fun  to  my 
foul,  in  the  dark  hour  of  my  departure.  O  that  the 
name  of  Morni  were  forgot  among  the  people!  that 
the  heroes  would  only  fay,  "  Behold  the  father  of  Gaul." 

Some  writers,  through  heat  of  Jmagination,  fall  into 
contiadidion  ;  foii^e  are  guilty  of  downright  abfurditiesj 
and  feme  even  rave  like  mstdmen.  Againft  fuch  capital 
errors  one  cannot  be  more  effeftually  warned  than  by 
coikvJ'ling  inftances;  and  the  fiift  lliall  be  of  a  contra» 
diftion,  the  moft  venial  of  all.  Virgil  fpeaking  of 
Nepriine, 

Interea  magno  mifceri  murmure  pontum, 
Em'.iraiiiqiie  hyemem  fenfit  Neptunus,  et  inii.s 
Stagna  refufa  vadis  ;  gra-viter  commotus,  et  alto 
Piofpiciens,  iwccwwz.  placidum  caput  extulit  uncd. 

JEneid.  i.    1 28. 
Again  : 
When  firft  young  Maro,  in  his  boundlefs  mind, 
A  work  t'outlaft  immortal  Rome  delignd. 

F^jjay  on  Criticifm,  I,  Ijo. 

The  following  examples  are  of  abfurdities. 

Alii  pulfis  e  tormento  catenis  difcerpti  fcflique,  dimi- 
diato  coipore  ^ugnabant  fibi  fuperftites,  ac  pereniptae 
partis  ultores.  Strada,   Dec.  2.  I-  2. 

II 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  siy 

II  pover  huomo,  che  non  fen'  era  accorto, 
Andava  combattendo,  ed  era  morto.  Berni. 

He  fled,  but  flying,  left  his  life  behind. 

Iliad  xi,  443. 
Full  through  his  neck  the  weighty  falchion  fped  : 
Along  the  pavement  rolfd  the  mutt'ring  head, 

OdyJJey  xxii.   365. 
The  la  ft  article  is  of  raving  like  one  mad.     Cleopa- 
tra ipeaking  to  the  afpic, 

— ■' Welcome,  thou  kind  deceiver, 

Thou  beft  of  thieves  j  who.  v/ich  an  eafy  key, 
Doft  open  life,  and  unpercciv'd  by  us 
Ev'n  Iteal  us  from  curlelves;  difchargin'?  fo 
Death's  dreadful  office,   better  ihan  himfelf, 
Touchmg  our  limbs  fo  gently  into  flumber. 
That  Death  ftands  by,  decei/d  by  his  own  ima?e, 
And  thmks  himfelf  but  fleep. 

Drjden,  All  for  Lo've,  ad  5. 
Reafons  that  are  common  and  known  to  every  one 

''l^xcu'''  ^'-  ''^'^'  ^""^  §''"^"^-    '^    ^^P^^^s    the.n    is 
childilh,  and  interiupts  the  narration.     Quintus  Curtius 
relatmg  the  battle  of  Iffus, 

Jam  in  confpeflu,  fed  extra  tell  jaftum,  utraque  acfes 
crat ;  quum  priores  Perls  inconditum  et  trucem  fuftulere 
clamorem.  Redditur  et  a  Macedonibus  major,  exercitus 
impar  numero,  ted  jugis  montium  vaftifque  faltibus  re- 
percufl'us  :  quippe  femper  circumjeila  nemora  petra^que, 
quant imcumque  accepere  vocem,  multiplicato  fono  re'- 
ferunt. 

Having  difculTed  what  obfervations  occurred  upon 
the  thoughts  or  things  expreffed,  I  proceed  to  what 
more  peculiarly  concerns  the  (anguaae  or  verbal  drefs 
The  language  proper  for  expreillni^  palllon  being  handled 
in  a  former  chapter,  feveral  ohfervatinns  there  made 
are  applicable  to  che  prefent  fubjett;  particularly,  That 
wordi  being  intimately  conne^.ed  with  the  ideas  they 
reprelent,  the  emotions  railed  by  the  loused  and  by  the 
lenfe  ought  to  be  concordant.  An  elevated  fubica  re- 
quires an  elevated  ftyle;  what  is  Ikmiliar,  ou^ht  to  be 
tamiharly  exprefTed  :  a  fubjcd  that  is  ferious'and  im- 

portan"- 


2i8  Narration  AND  Ch.  XXI. 

portant,  ought  to  be  clo^thed  in  plain  nervous  language  ; 
a  defcription,  on  the  other  hand,  addrelkd  to  the  ima- 
Pination,  is  fufceptible  of  the  higheit  ornaments  that 
founding   words   and   figurative    expreffion   can   beftow 

^'^rfh'ail  give  a  few  examples  of  the  foregoing  doarine. 
A  poet  of  anv  genius  will  not  readily  drels  a  h.gh  fub- 
iea  in  low  words  ;  and  yet  blemifiu-s  of  that  kind  are 
found  even  in  clallkal  works.     Horace,  for  example, 
obferving  that  men,  perfcdly  fatisfied  with  themfelvea, 
are  feldom  fo  with   their  condition,  introduces  Jupiter 
indu!y,ing  to  each  his  own  choice: 
Ta'irfaciam  quod  vultis:   eris  tu,   qui  mode  miles, 
Mercator:  tu,  conUihus  modo,  rufticus :  hinc  vos, 
Vos  hinc  mutatis  difcedite  part'ubus :  eia,    ^ 
Quid?   ftatis?   nolint:  arqui  licet  effe  beatis. 
Quid  caufs  eft,   merito  quin  illis  Jupiter  ambas 
hatus  huccas  in/let  ?   neque  fe  fore  polthac 
Tam  facilem  dicat,  votis  ut  prxbeat  aurem? 

Herm.  lib.  i.  fat.  i.   /.  t6. 

Tupiter  in  wrath  puffing  up  both  cheeks,  is  a  low  and 
even  ludicrous  expreflion,  far  from  luitable  to  the  gra- 
vity and  importance  of  the  fubjett  :  every  one  muft  feel 
the  difcordance.  The  following  couplet,  finking  iar 
below  the  iubjed,  is  not  lels  ludicrous. 
\  Not  one  looks  backward,  onward  ilill  he  goes, 

Yet  ne'er  looks  forward  farther  than  his  nole. 

Fffny  on  Man,  ep    iv.  223. 

Le  Rhin  tremble  et  fremit  d  ces  trilles  nouvelles  ; 

Le  (eu  fcrt  a  travers  fes  humides  prunelles. 

C'eft  done  trop  peu,  dit-il,  que  I'Efcaut  en  deux  mois 

Ait  appris  a  cooler  fous  de  nouvelles  loix  ; 

Et  de  mille  ramparts  moii  or.de  environr.ee 

De  ces  flenves  fans  nom  fuivra  la  deftinee  ? 
FAh  !  periiftn'  mes  eaux,  ou  par  d'illuftres  coups 
,  IVlontrons  qui  doit  c(!der,  des  mortels  ou  de  nous. 
j  A  ces  mots  fjjuiant  Ja  barhe  limonneiife, 

11  prenei  d'un  vieux  gneriier  la  figure  poudreufe. 

Son  fio'it  cicatiitc  rend  fon  air  fciieux, 

Et  I'aideur  du  combat  ^tinctlie  en  fes  yeux. 

Bojleauy  epitre  ^,  /.  61. 
A  god 


'Ch.  XXI.  DESCRrPTION.  2jg 

A  god  wiping  his  dirty  beard  is  proper  for  burlefque 
■poetry  only  j  and  altogether  unfuitable  to  the  ftrained 
elevation  of  this  poem 

On  the  other  hand,  to  faife  the  expreffion  above  the 
tone  of  the  fubjeft,  ,s  a  fault  than  which  none  is  more 
common,     7'ake  the  following  inftances.    "°"' '""°'^ 
Orcan  le  plus  fidele  a  ferver  fes  defTeins, 
Ne  fous  le  ciel  brulant  des  plus  noirs  Africains. 
.  Bajazet,  ail  ^./c.S. 

Les  ombres  par  trois  fois  ont  obfcure  les  cieux 
IJepuis  que  le  fommeil  n'eft  entre  dans  vos  yeux  • 
tt  le  jour  a  trois  fois  chafTe  la  nuit  obfcure         ' 
Uepuis  que  votre  corps  languit  fans  nourriture. 

._  Phedra,  ad  \.  fc.  -x 

JUuerus    Ce  mortel,  qui  montra  tant  de  zele  pour 
nioj,  Vit-il  encore  ?  ^ 

AJaph. II  volt  J'aftre  qui  vous  ^claire. 

n  •     .  /I  A  -  ^fi^'^-y  "^  2-  fc.  3. 

!    Uui,  c  eft  Agamemnon,  c'eft  ton  roi  qui  t'eveille  • 
Viens,  reconnois  la  voix  qui  frappe  ton  oreille.    ' 

!    No  jocund  health  that  Denmark  drinks  to  day!'^'"''' 
I    A  V  u  ^l^^^ ,"""°"  ^°  f^^  ^''^"'^s  ihall  tell ; 
Re"rl  r  ^'"g\'-rf^  '^^  heav'n  Ihall  bruit  ^gain, 
Refpeaking  earthly  thunder.^        Hamlet,  aa  i.  fc,  z, 

•  f  rr. ^"  ^'le  inner  room 

5  fpy  a  winking  lamp,  that  weakly  ftrikes 
ihe  ambient  air,  fcarce  kindling  into  light. 
L  -  ^  Southerner  Fate  of  Cap'ua,  ad  3. 

Iln  the  funeral  orations  of  the  Biftop  of  Meaux    the 
;foIlow.ng  paffages  are  raifed  far  abov^  the  tone  of  Ihe 

!    L'Ocean  etonne  de  fe  voir  traverfe  tant  de  fois    en 
i^s  app,,e,ls  fi  divers,  et  pour  des  caufes  fi  dUrlntes" 

\  Grande  Reine,  je  fatisfais  a  vos  plus  tendres  defirs 
,l«and  je  celebre  ce  monarque ,  et  Ion  cc^ur  qui  n'a  a-' 
nars  vecu  que  pour  lui,  fe  eveille,  tout  poudre  qu'il  eft. 
dev.e«t  lenfible  mdme  fous  ce  drap  mortuaire.Tu 
om  d  un  epoux  fi  cher.  *> 

^°'"  "•  K  Montefquieu, 


21*  Narration  AND  Ch.  XXI. 

Montefquieu,  in  a  dida£tic  work,  Vefprit  des  Loix, 
gives  too  great  indulgence  to  imagination :  the  tone  of 
his  language  fwells  frequently  above  his  fubjedl.  I  give 
an  example : 

Mr  le  Comte  de  Boulainvilliers  ct  Mr  I'Abbe  Dubos 
ont  fait  chacun  un  fyfteme,  dont  I'un  femble  etre  une 
conjuration  contie  le  tiers-etat,  et  I'autre  une  conjura- 
tion contre  la  noblefle.  Lorfque  le  Soleil  donna  a.  Pha- 
eton fon  char  d  conduire,  il  lui  dit.  Si  vous  montez  trop 
liaut,  vous  brulerez  la  demeure  celefte  ;  fi  vous  defcen- 
dez  trop  bas,  vous  reduirez  en  cendres  la  tcrre :  n'allez 
point  trop  a  droite,  vous  tomberiez  dans  la  conftellation 
du  ferpent ;  n'allez  point  trop  a  gaucbe,  vous  iriez  dans 
celle  de  I'autel:  tenez-vous  entre  les  deux. 

L.  30.  cb.  JO. 

The  following  paflage,  intended,  one  vi^ould  imagine, 
as  a  receipt  to  boil  v^^ater,  is  altogether  burlefque  by 
the  laboured  elevation  of  the  didion  : 

A  mafly  caldron  of  ftupendous  frame 
They  brought,  and  plac'd  it  o'er  the  rifing  flime : 
Then  heap  the  lighted  wood  ;  the  flame  divides 
Beneath  the  vafe,  and  climbs  around  the  fides  : 
In  its  wide  womb  they  pour  the  rufliing  ftream : 
The  boiling  water  bubbles  to  the  brim. 

Ilia  J  xviii.  405. 

In  a  pafl"age  at  the  beginning  of  the  4th  book  of  Tele- 
inachus,  one  feels  a  fudden  bound  upward  without  pre- 
paration, which  accords  not  with  the  fubjedt  :  < 
Calypfo,  qui  avoit  ete  jufqu'  a  ce  moment  immobile' 
et  tranfportee  de  plaifir  en  ecoutant  les  avantures  deTe-l 
lemaque,  I'interrompit  pour  lui  faire  prendre  quelque  re  j 
pos.  II  eft  terns,  lui  dit-elle,  que  vous  alliez  gouter  Is; 
douceur  du  fommeil  apres  tant  de  travaux.  Vous  n'a  | 
vez  rien  a  craindre  ici  j  tout  vous  eft  favorable.  Abanj 
donnez  vous  done  a  la  joye.  Goutez  la  paix,  et  touj 
les  autres  dons  des  dieux  dont  vous  allez  etre  combld 
Demain,  ^uand  /'  Aurore  a^'ec  Jes  doigts  de  rofes  en 
trowurira  les  partes  dorees  de  /'  Orient,  et  que  le  chei'O 
ux  du  foleil  for  tarn  de  Pende  amire  rcpandront  les  fiame^ 
du  jour,  pour  chaffer  devant  eux  toutes  les  etoiles  du  cte. 

noul 


Ch.  XXL  Description.  221 

nous  reprendrons,  mon  cher  Teldmaque,  i'hiftoire  de 
vos  malheurs. 

This  obviouily  is  copied  from  a  fimilar  pafTage  in  the 
^neid,  which  ought  not  to  have  been  copied,  becaufe 
it  lies  open  to  the  fame  cenfure  j  but  the  force  of  au- 
thoritj  is  great  : 

At  regina  gravi  jamdudum  faucia  cura, 
Vulnus  alit  venis,  et  csco  carpitur  igni. 
Multa  viri  virtus  animo,  multufque  recurfat 
"Gentis  honos  :  hasrent  infixi  peftore  vultus, 
Verbaque  :  nee  placidam  membris  dat  cura  quietem. 
Pojlera  Fhcebed  luftrabat  lampade  terras^ 
Humentemque  Aurora  polo  dimo'verat  umhram  ; 
Cum  fie  unanimem  alloquitur  malefana  fororem. 

Lib.  iv.  r; 

Take  another  example  where  the  words  rife  above  the 
fubjed : 

Ainfi  les  peuples  y  accoururent  bientot  en  foule  de 
toutes  parts  ;  le  commerce  de  cette  ville  etoit  femblable 
au  flux  et  au  reflux  de  la  mer,  Les  trefors  y  entroient 
comme  les  flots  viennent  I'un  fur  I'autre.  Tout  y  etoit 
apporte  et  en  fortoit  librement  ;  tout  ce  qui  y  entroit 
•ctoit  utile  ;  tout  ce  qui  en  fortoit,  lailToit  en  fortant 
d'autres  richefles  en  fa  place.  La  juftice  fevere  prefidoit 
dans  le  port  au  milieu  de  tant  de  nations.  La  franchife, 
la  bonne  foi,  la  candeur,  fembloient  du  haut  de  ces  fu- 
perbs  tours  appeiler  les  marchands  des  terres  les  plus 
€loignees  :  chacun  de  ces  marchands,  foit  qu'il  'vlnt  des 
n'ves  orient  ales  oil  le  foleil  fort  chaque  jour  du  fein  des 
ondes.Jott  quUlfut  parti  de  cette  grande  mer  ou  le  fo- 
leil lap  defon  cours  ^a  eteindre  fes  feux,  vivoit  paifiblc 
et  en  furete  dans  Salente  comme  dans  fa  patrie  J 

Telemaquey  I.  I2, 
The  language  of  Homer  is  fuited  to  his  fubieft,  not 
lels  accurately  than  the  aaions  and  fentiments  of  his 
heroes  are  to  their  charaders.  Virgil,  in  that  particu- 
lar,  fa  Is  ihort  of  perfeftion  :  his  language  is  ftately 
throughout  J  and  though  he  defcends  at  times  to  the 
hmpleft  branches  of  cookery,  roafting  and  boiling  for 
example,  yet  he  never  relaxes  a  moment  from  the  high 
^  2  tone. 


222  Narration  and  Ch.  XXI. 

tone*.  In  adjufling  his  language  to  his  fubjedt,  no 
writer  equals  Swift.  I  can  recolleiin;  but  one  exception, 
which  at  the  fame  time  is  far  from  being  grofs :  The 
journal  of  a  modern  lady  is  conipofed  in  a  ftyle  blend- 
ing fprightlinefs  with  familiarity,  perfectly  fuited  to  the 
fubjedl  :  in  one  paffage,  however,  the  poet  deviating 
from  that  ftyle,  takes  a  tone  far  above  his  fubjedt.  The 
pafTage  I  have  in  view  begins,  /  116.  But  let  me  noiv 
a  ivhile  furvey,  l^c.   and  ends  at  /.  135. 

It  is  pioper  to  be  obferved  upon  this  head,  that  wri- 
ters of  inferior  rank  are  continually  upon  the  ftretch  to 
enliven  and  enforce  their  iubjedl  by  exaggeration  and  fu- 
perlaiives.  This  unluckily  has  an  effeft  contrary  to 
what  is  intended  :  the  reader,  difgutted  with  language 
that  fwells  above  the  fubjedt,  is  led  by  contrail:  to  think 
more  meanly  of  the  fubjedt  than  it  may  poffibly  deferve. 
A  man  of  prudence,  befide,  will  be  not  lefs  carelul  to 
hufband  his  ftrength  in  writing  than  in  walking  :  a  wri- 
ter too  liberal  of  fuperlacives,  exhaurts  his  whole  ftoclc 
upon  ordinary  incidents,  and  referves  no  (hare  to  ex- 
prefs,  with  greater  energy,  matters  of  importance  f. 

The  power  of  language  to  imitate  thought,  is  not 
confined  to  the  capita!  circumftances  above  mentioned  : 
it  reacheth  even  the  flighter  modifications.  Slow  adli- 
on,  for  example,  is  imitated  by  words  pronounced  flow  ; 
labour  or  toil,  by  words  harfh  or  rough  in  their  found. 
But  this  fubjeft  has  been  already  handled  %. 

In  dialo2ue-wriiin2,  the  condition  of  the  fpeaker  is 
chiefly  to  be  regarded  in  framing  the  expreffion.     The 

centinel 


*  See  vEneid.  lib.  i.   188.— 219. 

f  Montaigne,  reflecting  upon  the  then  prefent  modes, 
obferves,  that  there  never  was  at  any  other  time  fo  abjetl 
and  fervile  prortitution  of  words  in  the  addreffes  made 
by  people  of  fafliion  to  one  another  ;  the  humblelT:  ten- 
ders of  life  and  foul,  no  profellions  under  that  of  devo- 
tion and  adoration  ;  the  writer  conftaiitly  declarii  g  him- 
felf  a  vaflal,  nay  a  flave  :  lo  that  when  any  more  feri- 
ous  occafion  of  friendfliip  or  gratitude  requiies  more  ge- 
nuine profeilions,  words  are  wanting  to  exprefs  them. 

X  Ch.  18.  Tea.  3. 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  223 

centinel  in  Hamlety  interrogated  with  relation  to  the 
ghoft  whether  his  watch  had  been  quiet,  anfwers  with 
great  propriety  for  a  man  in  his  ftation,  "  Not  a  moufc 
«*  ftirring*." 

I  proceed  to  a  fecond  remark,  not  lefs  important  than 
the  former.  No  perfon  of  refledtion  but  muft  be  fen- 
fible,  that  an  incident  makes  a  ftronger  impreflion  on  aa 
eyc-witnefs,  than  when  heard  at  fecond  hand.  Writers 
of  genius,  fenfible  that  the  eye  is  the  beft  avenue  to  the 
heart,  reprefent  every  thing  as  pafling  in  our  fight;  and 
from  readers  or  hearers,  transform  us,  as  it  were,  mto 
fpeftators :  a  Ikilful  writer  conceals  himfelf,  and  pre- 
fents  his  perfonages  :  in  a  word,  every  thing  becomes 
dramatic  as  much  as  poflible.  Plutarch,  de  gloria  A- 
thenienftutn,  obferves,  that  Thucydides  makes  his  reader 
a  fpeftator,  and  infpires  him  with  the  fame  pafTions  as 
if  he  were  an  eye-witnefs;  and  the  fame  obfervation  is 
applicable  to  our  countryman  Swift.  From  this  happy 
talent  arifes  that  energy  of  ftyle  which  is  peculiar  to  the 
latter:  he  cannot  alv/ays  avoid  narration  ;  but  the  pen- 
cil is  his  choice,  by  which  he  beltows  life  and  colouring 
upon  his  objects.  Pope  is  richer  in  ornament,  but  pof- 
feffeth  not  in  the  fame  degree  the  talent  of  drawing  from 
the  life.  A  tranflation  of  the  fixth  fatire  of  Horace, 
begun  by  the  foimer,  and  finifhed  by  the  latter,  affords 
the  faireft  oppoitunity  for  a  compariron.  Pope  obvi- 
oufly  imitates  the  pidiurelque  manner  of  his  friend:  yet 
every  one  of  tafte  muft  be  fenfible,  that  the  imitation, 
though  fine,  fails  fliort  of  the  original.  In  other  in- 
ftaiices,  where  Pope  wiites  in  his  ov/n  ftyle,  the  differ-- 
ence  of  manner  is  ftill  more  confpicuous 

Abftra£l  or  geneial  terms  have  no  good  effedt  in  any 

compofuion  for  amufementj  becaufe  it  is  only  of  par* 

K  3  ticular 

*  One  can  fcarce  avoid  fmiling  at  the  blindnefs  of  a 
certain  critic,  who,  with  an  air  of  felf-fufhciency,  con- 
demns this  exprelhon  as  low  and  vulgar.  A  French  poet, 
fays  he,  would  exprefs  the  fame  thought  in  a  more  fub- 
lime  manner:  "  Mais  tout  dort,  et  I'arm^e,  et  les 
"  vents,  et  Neptune."  And  he  adds,  "  The  Engliih 
"  poet  may  pleafe  at  London;  but  the  French  every 
"  where  elfe." 


$24  Narration  and  Ch.  XXI. 

ticular  objedls  that  images  can  be  formed  *.  Shakef- 
pear's  ftyle  in  that  refpe^  is  excellent:  every  article  in 
his  defcriptions  Is  particular,  as  in  nature  ;  and  if  ac- 
cidentally a  vague  exprellion  Hip  in,  the  blemilh  is  ex- 
tremely difcernible  by  the  bluntnefs  of  its  impreffion. 
Take  the  following  example:  FalllafF,  excufing  himfelf. 
for  running  away  at  a  robbery,  fays, 

By  the  Lord,  I  knew  ye,  as  well  as  he  that  made  ye. 
Why,  hear  ye,  my  mafters ;  was  it  for  me  to  kill  the 
heir-apparent  ?  fliould  I  turn  upon  the  true  prince?  Why, 
thou  knoweft,  I  am  as  valiant  as  Hercules ;  but  beware 
inftin£t,  the  lion  will  not  touch  the  true  prince:  inllinfl 
is  a  great  matter.  I  was  a  coward  on  inllin£t :  I  fhall 
think  the  better  of  rnyfelf,  and  thee,  during  my  life  j  I, 
for  a  valiant  lion,  and  thou  for  a  true  prince.  But,  by 
the  Lord,  lads,  I  am  glad  you  have  the  money.  Hollefs, 
clap  to  the  doors,  watch  to-nig!it,  pray  to-morrow. 
Gallants,  lads,  boys,  hearts  of  gold,  all  the  titles  of 
good  fellowlhip  come  to  you  !  What,  (hall  we  be  mer- 
ry ?    fiiall  we  have  a  play  extempore  ? 

Fit  ft  fart,  Henry  IV.  a£l  2,  fc.  9. 

The  fentence  I  object  to  is,  inftindl  is  a  great  matter i_ 
which  makes  but  a  poor  figure,  compared  with  the  live- 
linefs  of  the  reft  of  the  fpeech.  It  was  one  of  Homer's 
advantages,  that  he  wrote  before  general  terms  were 
multiplied:  the  fuperior  genius  of  Shakefpear  dilplays 
stfelf  in  avoiding  them  after  they  were  multiplied.  Ad- 
difon  defcribes  the  family  of  Sir  Roger  de  Ceverley  in 
the  following  words : 

You  would  take  his  valet  de  chambre  for  his  brother,. 
his  butler  is  gray-headed,  his  groom  is  one  of  the  grav- 
eft  men  that  T  have  ever  feen,  and  his  coachman  has  the 
looks  of  a  privy  counfellor.  Spectator,  N°  106. 

The  defcription  of  the  groom  is  lefs  lively  than  of  the 
others  ;  plainly  becaufe  the  exprefhon,  being  vague  and 
general,  tends  not  to  form  any  image.  •'  Dives  opum 
»'  variarura  *,"  is  an  exprellion  ftill  more  vague  ;  and 
io  are  the  following : 

— Maecenas,, 


*  See  chap.  4. 

*  Georg.  ii.  468. 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  225 

_ i^ — ■  Maecenas,  mearum 

Grande  decus,  colunienque  rerunt.  . 

Horat.  Carm.  lib.  Z.  tde  17. 

— et  fide  Tela 


Dices  laborantes  in  uno 

Penelopen,  vitreamque  Circen. 

Horat.  Carm.  lib.  i,  ode  1 7, 

Ridiculiim  acri 


Fortius  et  melius  niagnas  plerumque  fecat  res. 

Horat.  Satir.  lib.  \.  fat.  lo. 

In  the  fine  arts,  it  is  a  rule,  to  put  the  capital  ob- 
jects in  the  ftrongeft  point  of  view  j  and  even  to  pre- 
fent  them  oftener  than  once,  where  it  can  be  done.  In 
hiftory  painting,  the  principal  figure  is  placed  in  the 
front,  and  in  the  beft  light :  an  equeftrian  ftatue  is  pla- 
ced in  a  centre  of  ftreets,  that  it  may  be  leen  from  ma- 
ny places  at  once.  In  no  compofition  is  there  greater 
opportunity  for  this  rule  than  in  writing  : 

— Sequitur  pulcherrimus  Afliir, 

Aftur  equo  fidens  et  yerficoloribus  armis. 

Mneid.   X.    l8o. 

■Full  many  a  lady 


I've  ey'd  with  beft  regard,  and  many  a  tim« 

Th'  harmony  of  their  tongues  hath  into  bondage 

Brought  my  too  diligent  ear  ;  for  feveral  virtues 

Have  I  lik'd  feveral  women,  never  any 

With  fo  full  foul,  but  fome  defedt  in  her 

Did  quarrel  with  the  nobleft  grace  (he  ow'd. 

And  put  it  to  the  foil.     But  you,  O  you, 

So  perfect,  and  fo  peerlefs,  are  created 

Of  every  creature's  beft.  Tempejl,  ad  3.  fc.  I, . 

Orlando.  Whate'er  you  are 

That  in  this  defert  inacceftible, 

Under  the  fhade  of  melancholy  boughs, 

Lofe  and  neglett  the  creeping  hours  of  time; 

If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days  ; 

If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoU'd  to  church; 
If  ever  fat  at  any  good  man's  feaft  j 
If  ever  from  your  eye-lids  wip'd  a  tear,  *'*' 
And  Jbow  what  'lis  to  pity,  and  be  pity'd; 

K  4  Let 


2-26  Narration  anD)         Ch.  XXI. 

Let  gentlenefs  my  flrong  inforcement  be, 

Ii)  the  which  hope  I  blufli.  and  hide  my  fword. 

Duke  fen.  True  is  ir  that  we  have  feen  better  days  j; 
And  have  with  holy  beii  been  knoH'd  to  church  j 
And  fat  at  good  mens  feafts  j  and  wip'd  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  facred  pity  hnd  engender'd  : 
And  therefore  fit  you  down  in  gentlenefs, 
And  take  upon  command  what  help  we  have, 
That  to  your  wanting  may  be  miniflred- 

/h  you  like  id 
"With  thee  converfing  I  forget  all  time ;. 
All   feafons  and  their  change,  all  pleafe  alike. 
Sweet  is  the  breath  of  morn,  her  rifing  fweet,. 
With  charm  of  earlieft  birds ;  pleafant  the  fun 
"When  fi.rft  on  this  delightful  land  he  fpreads 
His  orient  beams,  on  herb,  tree,  fruit,  and  flow'r, , 
Gliftering  with  dew  j  fragrant  the  fertile  earth 
After  fott  ftiowers  ;  and  fweet  the  coming  on 
Of  grateful  evening  mild,    the  filent  night 
With  this  her  folemn  bird,  and  this  fair  moon. 
And   thefe  the  gems  of  heav'n,  her  ftarry  train  ; 
But  neither  breath  of  morn,  when  fhe  afcends 
"With  ch;.rm  of  eailieit  birds,  nor. rifing  fun 
On  this  delightful  lajid,  oor  herb,  fruit,  flower, 
Gliftering  with  dew,  nor  fragrance  after  fhowers. 
Nor  grateful  evening  mi.ld,  nor  filent  night, 
With  this  her  folemn  bird,  nor  walk  by  moon^ 
Or  glittering  ftar-light,  without  thee  is  fvieet. 

Paradife  loji,  book  4.  /.  634.:,. 

What  mean  ye,  that  ye  ufe  this  proverb.  The  fathers^ 
have  eaten  four  grapes,  and  the  cliildrens  teeth  are  fet  on 
edge  ?  As  I  live,  faith  the  Lord  God,  ye  Ihall  not  have 
occafion  to  ufe  this  proverb  in  Ifrael.    If  a  man  keep  my 
judgments  to  deal  truly,  he.  is  juft,  he  (hall  furely  live. 
But  if  he  be  a  robber,  a  (hedder  of  blood  j  if  he  have 
eaten  upon  the  mountains,  and  defiled  his  neighbour's , 
wife  ;  if  he  have  oppreffed  the  poor  and  needy,  have 
i'poiled  by  violence,  have  not  refl:ored  the  pledge,  have 
lift  up  his  eyes  to  idols,  have  given  forth  upon  ufury, 
and  have  taken  increafe ;  Ihall  he  live  ?  he  fhall  not  live : ; 
he  fliall  furely  die  j  and  his  blood  fhall  be  upon  him. 
NoW;  lOj  if  he  beget  a  fon^.that  feeth  all  his  father's  fins,., 

and,-. 


Ch.  XXI.  Description.  327 

and  confidereth,  and  doth  not  fuch  like ;  that  hath  not 
eaten  upon  the  mountains,  hath  not  lift  up  his  eyes  to  i- 
dols,  nor  defiled  his  neighbour's  wife,  hath  not  opprelTed 
any,  nor  with- held  the  pledge,  neither  hath  fpoiled  by 
violence,  but  hath  given  his  bread  to  the  hungry,  and 
covered  the  naked  with  a  garment  ;  that  hath  not  re- 
ceived ufury  nor  increafe,  that  hath  executed  my  judg- 
ments, and  walked  in  my  ftatutes;  he  fliall  not  die  for 
the  iniquity  of  his  father ;  he  fliall  furely  live.  The  foul 
that  finneth,  it  ihail  die;  the  fon  (hall  not  bear  the  ini- 
quity of  the  father,  neither  fhall  the  father  bear  the  ini- 
quity of  the  fon  j  the  righteoufnefs  of  the  righteous  fhall 
be  upon  him,  and  the  wickednefs  of  the  wicked  Ihall  be 
upon  him.  Have  I  any  pleafure  that  the  wicked  Ihould 
die,  faith  the  Lord  God ;  and  not  that  he  fhould  return 
from  his  ways  and  live  .''  Ezekiel  xvlVu  .. 

Tlie  repetitions  in  Homer,  which  are  frequent,  have 
been  the  occafion  of  much  criticifm.  Suppofe  we  were 
at  a  lofs  about  the  reafon,  might  not  tafte  be  fufficient 
to  juftify  them  ?  At  the  fame  time,  we  are  at  no  lo's 
about  the  reafon  :  they  evidently  make  the  narration 
dramatic,  and  have  an  air  of  truth,  by  making  things 
appear  as  pafllng  in  our  fight, 

A  concife  comprehenfive  ftyle  is  a  great  ornament  m 
narration  j  and  a  fuperfluity  of  unneceffary  words,  not 
lefs  than  of  circumftances,  a  great  nuifance.  A  judi- 
cious feiedtion  of  the  ftriking  circumftances  clothed  in  a 
nervous  ftyle,  is  delightful.  In  this  ftyle,  Tacitus  ex- 
cells  all  writers,  antient  and  modern.  Inftances  are 
numberlefs  :    take  the  following  fpecimen. 

Crebra  hinc  prselia,  et  faepius  in  modum  latrocinii  : 
per  faltus,  per  paludes  ;  ut  cuique  fors  aut  virtus:  te- 
mere,  provifo,  ob  iram,  ob  prasdam,  jufTu,  et  aliquando 
jgnaris  ducibus.  Annul,  lib.  12.  §  39. 

After  Tacitus,  Oftian  in  that  refpe£l  juftly  merits  the 
place  of  diftin(5tion.  One  cannot  go  wrong  for  exam- 
ples in  any  part  of  his  book  ;  and  at  the  firft  opening 
the  following  inftance  meets  my  eye  : 

Nathos  clothed  his  limbs  in  ftiining  fteel.  The  ftride 
of  the  chief  is  lovely  :  the  joy  of  his  eye  terrible.  The 
wind.ruftles  in  his  hair.  Darthula  is  filent  at  his  fide  i 
K  5  her. 


2a8  Narration  AND  Ch.  XXI. 

her  look  is  fixed  on  the  chief.     Striving  to  hide  the  li- 
iing  figh,  two  tears  fwell  in  her  eyes, 

I  add  one  other  inftance,  which,  befide  the  property 
under  confideration,  raifes  delicately  our  mod;  tender 
lympathy  : 

Son  of  Fingal !  doll  thou  not  behold  the  darknefs  of 
Grothar's  hall  of  lliells  ?   My  foul  was  not  dark  at  the 
ftaft.  when  my  people  lived.     I  rejoiced  in  the  prefence 
of  ftrangers,  when  my  fon  (hone  in  the  hall.     But,  Of- 
iian,  he  is  a  beam  that  is  departed,  and  left  no  ftreak  of 
1-ight  behind.     He  is  fallen,  fon  of  Fingal,  in  the  battles 
of  his  father.  —  Rothmar,  the  chiel   of  gralfy  Tromlo, . 
heard  that  my  eyes  had  failed  ;  he  heard  that  my  arms  . 
were  fixed  in  the  hall,  and  the  pride  of  his  foul  arofe. 
He  came  towards  Croina  j  my  people  fell  before  him.    I '. 
took  my  arms  in  the  hall,  but  what  could  fightlefs  Cro-  ■ 
that  do .''  My  lleps  were  unequal  j  my  grief  was  great.  , 
I  wifhed  for  tlie  days  that  were  paft  :  days  !  wherein  I 
fought,  and  v/on  in  the  held  of  blood.      iViy  fon  return- 
ed from   the  chace  i  the  fair-haiied  Fovar-goimo.     He  • 
had  not  lifted  his  fword  in  battle,  for  his  arm  was  young. 
But  tlie  foul  of  the  youth  was  great ;  the  fire  of  valour 
burnt  in  his  eye.    He  faw  the  difordered  lleps  of  his  fa-- 
^her,  and  his  figh  arofe.     King  of  Croma,  he  faid,  is  it 
becaufe  thou  haft  no  fon?  Is  it  for  the  weaknefs  of  Fo-  ■ 
var-gormo's  arn\  that  thy  fighs  arife  .''  I  begin,  my  father, . 
to  feel  the  ftrength  of  my  arm  ?  I  have  drawn  the  fword 
of  my  youth,  and  I  have  bent  the  bow.     Let  me  meet 
this  Rothmar,  with  the  youths  of  Croma :   let  me  meet . 
him,  O  my  father,  for  I  feel  my  burning  foul. 

And  thou  ftalt  meet  him,  I  faid,  fon  of  the  fightlefs 
Crothar !  But  let  others  advance  before  thee,  that  I  may 
liear  the  tread  of  thy  feet  at  thy  return  ;  for  my  eyes 
behold  thee  not,  fair-haired  Fovar-gormo !  — He  went, 
lie  met  the  foe ;  he  fell.  The  foe  advances  towards 
Croma.  He  who  flevr  my  fon  is  near,  with  all  his 
pointed  fpears. 

If  a  concife  or  nervous  ftyle  be  a  beauty,  tautology 
muft  be  a  blemifli  ;  and  yet  writers,  fettered  by  verie, 
are  notfufHciently  careful  to  avoid  this  flovenly  practice: 
^ey  laity  be  pitied,  but  they  cannot  be  juftified.    Take 

for 


Ch.XXI.  Description,  Hq 

for  a  fpecimen  the  following  inftances,  from  the  beft 
poet,   for  verfification   at  Jealt,  that  England   has   to 
boaft  of. 
High  on  his  helm  celeftial  lightnings  play, 
His  beamy  fhield  emits  a  living  ray, 
Th'  unweary'd  blaze  inceflant  llreams  fupplies, 
Like  the  red  ftar  that  fires  th'  autumnal  (kies. 

l/iad  V.  5.' 
Strength  and  omnipotence  inveft  thy  throne, 

///W  viii.  576. 
So  filent  fountains,  from  a  rock's  tall  head,  . 
In  fable  ftreams  foft-trickling  waters  fhed. 

J  Had  ix.  ig. 
His  clanging  armour  rung.  .  Iliad  xii.  94.. 

Fear  on  their  cheek,  and  horror  in  their  eye. 

Iliad  XV.  4.  - 
The  blaze  of  armour  flafli'd  againft  the  day. 

Iliad  xv'n.  736.  -• 
As  when  the  piercing  blafts  of  Boreas  blow. 

Iliad  xix.  380, 
And  like  the  moon,  the  broad  refulgent  fhield 
Blaz'd  with  long  rays,  and  gleam'd  athwart  the  field.  . 

I/iad  xix.  402, 
No  —  could  our  fwiftnefs  o'er  the  wind  prevail, 
Or  beat  the  pinions  of  the  weftern  gale, 

AIL  were  in  vain •  Iliad  xix.  460.  . 

The  humid  fweat  from  ev'ry  pore  defcends. 

Iliad  xxiii.  829. 
Redundant  epithets,  fuch  as  humid  in  the  laft  citation, 
are  by  Quintilian  difallow'd  to  orators  ;  but  indulged 
to  poets  *,  becaufe  his  favourite  poets,  in  a  few  in- 
ftances, are  reduced  to  fuch  epithets  for  the  fake  of 
verfification  ;  for  inftance,  Prata  canis  albicant  pruiniSf 
of  Horace,  and  li(juidos  fontesy  of  Virgil. 

As  an  apology  for  fuch  careiefs  exprelfions,  it  may 
well  fufiice,  that  Pope,  in  fubmitting  to  be  a  tranflator, 
ads  below  his  genius.  In  a  tianflatioo,  it  is  Jiard  to  re- 
quire the  fame  fpirit  or  accuracy,  that  is  chearfuliy  be- 

ftow'd 

*  L.  8.  cap  6.  fea  2. 


230  Narration  AND  Ch.  XXI.. 

ftow'd  on  an  original  work.     And  to  fupport  the  repu- 
tation of  that  author,  I  Ihall    give  fonie  inllances  from 
Virgil  and  Horace,  more  fault/  by  redundancy  than  any,, 
of  thofe  above  mentioned  : 
Sape  etiam  immenfuni  coelo  venit  agnien  aquarum, , 
Et  foedam  glonierant  tempeftateni  inibribus  atris 
CoUeftsE  ex  alto  nubes:   ruit  arduus  zerher, 
Et  pluvia  ingenti  fata  Iset^,  boumque  labores 
T>i]uk.  Georg.  lib.  \.  322, 

Poftquam  altum  tenuere  rates,  nee  jam  amplius  ulla 
Apparent  terra; ;  ccelum  undique  et  undique  pontus: 
Turn  mihi  casruleus  fupra  caput  aftitit  imber, 
Nodlem  hyememque  ferens:  et  inhorruit  unda  lenebris.. 

/Eneid.  lib.'m,   197. 

— Hinc  tibf  copia 

Manabit  ad  plenum  benigno 

Ruris  honorum  opulenta  cornu^ 

Horat.  Carm.  lib.  I ,   ode  I  7.- 
Videre  feflbs  vomerem  inverfumboves  . 

Collo  trahentes  languido.  Horat. :epod.  ii.  63.- 

Here  I  can  luckily  apply  Horace's  rule  againft  bimfelf , 
Ell  brevitate  opus,  ut  currat  fententta,  neu  fe 
impediat  verbis  lafTas  onejautibus  aures. 

Serm.  lib.  i.  fat.  x.  9. 
I  clofe  this  chapter  with  a  curious  inquiry.     An  ob- 
je£t,  however  ugly   to  the,  fight,  is  far  from  being  fo  .. 
I'jsvhen  reprefented  by  colours  or  by  words.    What  is  the  • 
caufe  of  this  difference .''  With  refpedl  to  painting  the  -' 
caufe  is  obvious  :  a  good  pifture,  whatever  the  fubjeft  t 
be,  is  agreeable  by  the  pleafure  we  take  in  imitation  ; 
and  this   pleafure  overbalancing  the  difagreeablenefs  of 
the  fubjeft,  makes  the  pidture  upon  the  whole  agreea- 
ble.    With  refped  to  the  defcription  of  an  ugly  objei^-, 
the  caule  is  what  follows.     To  conneQ:  individuals  in  ; 
the  focial  ftate,  no  particular  contributes  more  than  Ian-  . 
guage,  by  the  power  it  pofTeiTes  of  an  expeditious  com-  - 
niunication  of  thought,  and  a  lively  reprefentation  of  " 
tranfadions.     But  nature  hath  not  beeii  fatisfied  to  re- 
commend language  by  its  utility  merely  :  independent  of 
Ulility,  it  is  niade.fufceptible.of  many  beauties,  which 

aro. 


Ch.  XXI.  Description..  z^t  ■ 

are  diredly  felt,  without  the  intervention  of  any  reftec- 
tion  *.  And  this  unfolds  the  myftery  j  for  the  pleafure 
of  language  is  fo  great,  as  in  a  lively  defcripiion  to  o- 
verbalance  the  difagreeablenefs  of  the. image  raifed  by 
it  f.  This  however  is  no  encouragement  to  deal  in  dif- 
agreeable  fubjefts ;  for  the  pleaiure  is  incomparably 
greater  where  the  fubjed  and  the  defcfiption  are  both 
of  them  agreeable. 

The  following  defcription  is  upon  the  whole  agreea- 
ble,  though  the  fubjed  defcribed  is  in  itfelf  difmal  :  . 
Nine  times  the  fpace  that  meafures  day  and  night  . 
To  mortal  men,  he  wich  his  horrid  crew 
Lay  vanquifh'd,  rowling  in  the  fiery  gulf, 
Confounded  though  immortal !  but  his  doom 
Referv'd  him  to  more  wrarh  ;  for  now  the  thoughj  ■ 
Both  of  loft  hippinefs  and  lafting  pain 
Torments  him  ;  round  he  throws  his  baleful  eyes. 
That  witnefs'd  huge  afRiclion  and  difmay, 
Mix'd  with  obdurate  pride  and  ftedfaft  hate  : 
At  once  as  far  as  angels  ken  he  views 
The  difmal   fituation  wafte  and  wild  :  ■ 
A  dungeon  horrible,  on   all  fides  round 
As  one  great  furnace  flam'd  j  yet  from  thofe  flames  ; 
No  light,  but  rather  darknefs  vilible 
Serv'd  only   to  difcover  fights  of  wo, 
Regions  of  forrow,  doleful  fhades,  where  peace  . 
And  reft  can  never  dwell,  hope  never  comes 
That  comes  to  all;  but, torture  without  end 
Still  urges,  and  ,a  fiery  deluge,  fed 
With  ever-burning  lulphur   unconfum'd  ? 
Such :  place  eternal  juliice  had    prepar'd 
For  thofe  rebellious.  .  Paradife  loji.,  book  I,  /.  59. 

An  unmanly  depreffion  of  fpirits  in  time  of  danger  is 
not  an  agreeable  fight  ;  and  yet  a  fine  defcription  or  re- 
prefentation  of  it  will  be  reliflied  : 

K.  Richard.  What  muft  the  King  do  now  ?  muft  he 
fubmit  ? 
The  King  fhall  do  it :  muft  he  be  depos'd  ? 

The 

*  See  chap.  18. 

t  See  chap.  2.  part  4, 


232  Narration  and  Ch.  XXI. 

The  King  fhall  be  contented  :   muft  he  lofe 
The  name  of  King?  o' God's  name,  let  it  goj 
I'll  give  my  jewels  for  a  fet  of  beads; 
My  gorgeous  palace,  for  a  hermitage  ; 
My  gay  apparel,  for  an  almfman's  govvnj  . 
My  figur'd  goblets,  for  a  diOi  of  wood  , 
My  fceptre,  for  a  pahrer's  vvalkinj  ftnff : 
My  fubjef^i,  for  3  pair  of  carved  faints  i 
And  my  large  kingdom,  for  a  little  grave  ; 

A   little,  little  grave  ; an  obfcure  grave. 

Or  I'll  b-i  bury  d  in  the  King's  highway  j 
Some  way  of  common  tread,  where  fubjefls  feet 
May  hourly  trample  on  their  fovereign's  head  ; 
For  on  my  heart  they  tread  now,  whilft  I  live ; 
And,  bury'd  once,  why  not  upon  my  head  ?  ■ 

Richard  J  I.  a6l  ^.  fc.6: 
Obje£ls  that  ftrike  terror  in  a  fpedator,  have  in  poe- 
try and  painting  a  fine  effedt.  The  pidlure,  by  railing 
a  (light  emotion  of  terror,  agitates'  the  mind ;  and  in 
that  condition  every  beauty  makes  a  deep  impreflion. 
May  not  contrail  heighten  the  pleafure,  by  oppofing  our 
preient  fecurity  to  the  danger  we  would  be  in  hy  en- 
countering the  object  reprefented  ? 

1 — .— • The  other  fliape, 

If  fhape  it  might  be  call'd,  that  fhape  had  none 
Diftinguifhable  in  member,  joint,  or  limb; 
Or  fubftance  might  be  call'd  that  (hadow  feem'd, 
For  each  feem'd  either ;  black  it  rtood  as  night, 
Fierce  as  ten  furies,  terrible  as  hell, 
And  (hook  a  dreadful  dart. 

Paradife  lofty  hook  2.   I.  666. 

-■    .  Now  ftorming  fury  rofe, 

And  clamour  fuch  as  heard  in  heaven  till  now 
Was  never  :  arms  on  armour  clalhing  bray'd 
Horrible  difcord,  and  the  madding  wheels 
Of  brazen  chariots  rag'd  ;  dire  was  the  nolle 
Of  con(li(St ;  overhead  the  difmal  hifs 
Of  fiery  darts  in  flaming  vollies  flew. 
And  flying  vaulted  either  hoft  with  fire. 
So  under  fiery  cope  together  rufh'd 
Both  battles  main,  with  ruinous  alFault 


And 


I 


Ch.  XXI.  Descriptiok-.  233  _ 

And  inestinguiftiable  rage;  all  heav'n 
Refounded,  and  had  earth  been  then,  all  earth 
Had  to  her  centre  fhook. 

Paradife  loft,  book  6.   L.ZO'Jy  . 

Ghoft But  that  I  am  forbid 

To  tell  the  fecreis  of  my  prifon-houfe, 

I  could  tell  a  tale  unfold,  whofe  lighteft  word         '* 

Would  harrow  up  thy  foul,  freeze  thy  young  blood. 

Make  thy  two  eyes,  like  ftars,  ftart  from  their  fpheres,., 

Thy  knotty  and  combined  locks  to  part. 

And  each  particular  hair  to  ftand  on  end,  . 

Like  quills  upon  the  fretful  porcupine: 

But  this  eternal  blazon  mufl  not  be 

To  ears  of  flefii  and  blood.  Hatnlet,  n5l  x,  fc.%.- 

Gratiatw.  Poor  Defdeaiona !  Tm  glad  thy  father's  s 
dead  : 
Thy  match  was  mortal  to  him  ;  and  pure  grief 
Shore  his  old  thread  in  twain.     Did  he  live  now. 
This  fight  would  make  him  do  a  defp'rate  turn : 
Yea,  cutfe  his  better  angel  from  his  fide, 
And  fall  to  reprobation.  Othello,  a£l  5.  /c.S, 

Objefts  of  horror  muft  be  excepted  from  the  forego- 
ing theory;  for  no  defcription,  however  lively,  is  fuffi- 
cient  to  overbalance  the  difguft  raifed  even  by  the  idea 
of  fuch  an  objeft.  Every  thing  horrible  ought  therefore 
to  be  avoided  in  a  defcription.  Nor  is  this  a  fevere 
law :  the  poet  will  avoid  fuch  fcenes  for  his  own  fake, 
as  well  as  for  that  of  his  reader  j  and  to  vary  his  def- 
criptions,  nature  affords  plenty  of  objeds  that  difguft 
us  in  fome  degree  without  raifing  horror.  I  am  obliged 
therefore  to  condemn  the  pifture  of  Sin  in  the  fecond 
book  of  Paradife  lojl,  though  drawn  with  a  mafterly 
hand  :  the  original  would  be  a  horrid  fpeQacle  j  and  the 
htfrror  is  not  much  foftened  in  the  copy : 

— Penfive  here  I  fat 

Alone,  but  long  I  fat  not,  till  my  womb 
Pregnant  by  thee,  and  now  exceffive  grown 
Prodigious  motion  felt  and  rueful  throes. 
At  lall  this  odious  offspring  whom  thou  feeft. 
Thine  own  begotten,  breaking  violent  way. 
Tore  through  my  intrails,  that  with  fear  and  pain 

Diftorted, 


234  Narration  and,  i^c       Ch.  XXI, 

Diftorted,  all  my  nether  ftiape  thus  grew 
Transform'd  ;  but  he  my  irabred  enemy 
Forth  iiTu'd,  brandifhing  his  fatal  dart, 
Made  to  deftroy :   I  fled,  and  cry'd  out  Death  ; 
Hell  trembl'd  at  the  hideous  name,  and  figh'd 
From  all  her  caves,  nnd  back  reloiinded  Death, 
I  fled,  but  he  puriu  u,  (though  more,  it  fcems, 
Inflam'd  v  ith  luft  than  rage),  and  fwirter  tar, 
Me  overtook,  his  mother  all  difmay'd, 
And  ill  embraces  foicible  and  foul 
Ingendriiig  with  me,  of  that  rape  begot 
Thefe  yelling  monfters  that  with  ceafeiefs  crjt--- 
Surround  me,  as  thou  faw'ft,  hourly  conceiv'd  j 
And  hourly  born,  with  forrow  inhnire 
To  me  ;  for  when  they  lift,  into  the  womb 
That  bred  them  they  return,  and  howl  and  gnaw 
My  bowels,  their  repafl:  j  then  burfl:ing  forth, 
Afrefh  with  confcious  terrors  vex  me  round, 
That  reft  or  intermiflion  none  1  find. 
Before  mine  eyes  in  oppofitLon  fits 
Grim  Death,  my  fon  and  foe,  who  fets  them  on, 
And  me  his  parent  would  full  foon  devour 
For  want  of  other  prey,  but  that  he  knows 
His  end  with  mine  involv'd  ;  and  knows  that  I  : 
Should  prove  a  bitter  morfel,  and  hia  bane, 
Whenever  that  fliall  be.  ■  Book  2.  I.  777.  - 

lago's  charafter  in  the  tragedy  of  Othello,  is  infuflrera- 
bly  monftrous  and  Satanical :  not  even  Shakefpear's 
mafterly  hand  can  make  the  pidure  agreeable. 

Though  the  objects  introduced  in  the  following  fcenes 
are  not  altogether  fo  horrible  as  Sin  is  in  Milton's  pic- 
ture j  yet  with  every  perfon  of  delicacy,  difguft  will  be 
the  prevailing  emotion  :  . 

.  Strophades  Graio  ftant  nomine  di£tae 

Infulje  lonio  in  magno  :  quas  dira  Celasno, 
Harpyiseque  colunt  alize:  Phineia  poftquam 
Claufadomus,  menfafque  metu  liquere  priores. 
Triftius  haud  illis  monltrum,  nee  faevior  ulla 
Peftis  et  ira  Deiim  Stygiis  iek  extulit  undis. 
Virginei  volucrum  vultus,  foediffima  ventris 
Proluvies,  uncaeque  manus,  et  paUicla  Temper 
Ora  fame.  Hue 


Ch.  XXII.     Epic  and  Dramatic,  i^c      ^35 
Hue  ubi  delati  porlus  intravimus:  ecce 
Laeta  bourn  pafBm  campis  armenta  videmus, 
Caprigenumqiie  pecus,  nullo  cuilode,  per  herbas. 
Irruimus  ferro,  et  Divos  ipfumque  vocanius 
In  prsedani  partemque  Jovem :   tunc  littore  curvo 
Extruimufque  toros,  dapibufque  epuiamur  opimis;  , 
At  fubits  horrifiGO  lapfu  de  montibus  adfunt 
Harpyis:   et  magnis  quatiunt  clangoribus  alas: 
Diripiuntque  dapes,  contaftuque  omnia  foedant 
Immundo;  turn  vox  tetruai  dira  inter  odorem. 

JEneid.  lib.  iii.  z\<^. 

Sum  patria  ex  Ithaca,  comes  infelicis  Ulyffei, 
Nomen  Achemenides  :  Tiojam,  genicore  Adamafto 
Paupere  (nianfifretque  utinani  for  tuna  !)  profe£tus. 
Hie  me,  dum  trepidi  crudclia  liinina  Hnquunt, 
Immeiiiores  focii   vafto  Cyciopis  in  antro 
Deferuere.     Domus  fanie  dapibufque  cruentis, 
Intus  op&ca,  ingens  .   ipfe  arduus,  altaque  pulfat: 
Sidera  :   (Dii,  talem  terris  avertite  pefteni) 
Nee  vifu  facilis,  nee  didu  affabilis  ulli, 
Vii'ceribus  miferorum,  et  fangiiine  vefcitur  atro.. 
Vidi  egouiet,  duo  de  numero  cum  corpora  noftro, 
Pienfa  manu  magna,  medio  refupinus  in  antro, 
Frangeret  ad  faxum,  fanieque  afperfa  natarent 
Limina  ;   vidi,  atro  cum  membra  fluentia  labo 
Manderet,  et  lepidi  tremerent  fub  der;iil-us  artus.  . 
Haud  impune  quidem  :  nee  talia  pofTus  Ulyffes, 
Oblitulve  iui  ell  khacus  diicrimine  tant.o. 
Nam  fimul  expletus  dapibus,  vinoque  fepultus 
Cervicem   infiexam  poluit,  jacuitque  per  antrum  , 
Immenlus,  faniem  erudans,  ac  frufla  ciuento 
Per  fomnuni  commixta  mero  ;  nos,  magna  precati 
Numina,  fortitique  vices,  una  undique  ciicum 
Fundimur,  et  telo  lumen  terebramus  acuto 
Ingens,  quod  torva  folum  fub  fionte  latebat. 

JEneid.  lib.  iii.  613.:. 

CHAP.      XXII. 

Epic  and  Dramatic  Compositions. 

^Ragedy  differs  not  from  the  epic  in  fubftantials: 
in  both  the  fame  ends  are  propofed,  mz,  inftrucr 

tioa. 


236  Epic  and  Dramatic        Ch.  XXII. 

tlon  and  amufenient ;  and  in  both  the  fame  mean  is  em- 
pioy'd,  njiz  imitation  ot"  human  adtions.  They  differ 
only  in  the  manner  of  iniitating:  epic  poetry  deals  in 
narration  :  tragedy  reprefents  its  fa61s  as  paffing  in  our 
fight:  in  the  former,  the  poet  introduces  himfelf  as  an 
hillorian ;  in  the  latter,  he  prefents  his  aftors,  and  ne- 
ver himfelf*. 

^  This  difference,  regarding  form  only,  may  be  thought 
flight:  but  the  effedls  it  occafions,  are  by  no  means  lo  ; 
for  what  we  fee  makes  a  deeper  imprelfion  than  what 
we  learn  from  others.  A  narrative  poem  is  a  ftory  told 
by  another:  fadts  and  incidents  palling  upon  the  Aage, 
come  under  our  own  obfervation  ;  and  are  befide  much. 
enlivened  by  adtion  and  gefture,  exprelfive  of  many  fen- 
timents  beyond  the  reach  of  language. 

A  dramatic 

*  The  dialogue  in  a  dramatic  compofition  didinguifhea 
it  fo  clearly  from  other  compofirions,  that  no  writer  has 
thought  it  necefTary  to  fearch  for  any  other  feparating 
mark.  Rut  much  ufelefs  labour  has  been  beftow'd,  to 
ditlinguifli  an  epic  poem  by  fome  peculiar  mark.  BofTu 
defines  this  poem  to  be,  "  A  compofition  in  verfe,  in- 
"  tended  to  form  the  manner?  by  inilrudions  difguifed 
«*  under  the  allegories  of  an  iiiiponant  a(ftion  ;"  which 
\a:H  exclude  every  epic  poem  founded  upon  real  fads, 
and  perhaps  include  feveral  of  /tJop's  fables.  Voltaire 
reckons  verfe  fo  eflential,  as  for  that  fingle  reafon  to  ex- 
clude the  adventures  of  Telemachus.  See  his  EJJay  upon 
epic  Poetry.  Others,  affedled  with  fubtlance  more  than 
with  ornament,  hefitate  not  to  pronouiice  that  poem  to 
be  epic.  It  is  not  a  little  diverting  to  fee  fo  many  pro- 
found critics  hunting  for  what  is  not  to  be  found ;  they 
take  for  gianied,  without  the  leaft  foundation,  that  there 
mull  be  fome  precife  criterion  to  dirtinguilh  epic  poetry 
from  every  other  fpecies  of  writing.  Literary  compo- 
fitions  run  into  each  other,  precilely  like  colours:  in 
their  llrong  tints  they  are  eafily  diftinguilhed  ;  but  are 
fufceptible  of  fo  much  variety,  and  of  To  many  different 
forms,  that  we  never  can  fay  where  one  fpecies  ends 
and  another  begins.  As  to  the  general  tafte,  there  is 
little  reafon  to  doubt,  that  a  work  where  heroic  actions 
are  related  in  an  elevated  ftyle,  will,  without  further  re- 
quifiie,  be  deemed  an  epic  ppem. 


Ch.  XXII.  Compositions.  237 

A  dramatic  conipofition  has  another  property,  inde- 
pendent altogether  of  afiion  ;  which  is,  that  it  makes 
a  deeper  impreffjon  th^in  narration:  in  the  former,  per- 
fons  exprels  their  own  fentiments  ;  in  the  latter,  fenti- 
nients  are  related  at  fecond  hand.  For  that  reafon,  A- 
riftotle,  the  father  of  critics,  lays  it  down  as  a  rule, 
That  in  an  epic  poem  the  author  ought  to  take  every 
opportunity  of  introducing  his  attors,  and  of  confining 
the  narrative  part  within  the  narrowed  bounds*.  Ho- 
mer undertlood  perfeftly  the  advantage  of  that  method  ; 
and  his  poems  are  both  of  them  in  a  great  mealure  dra- 
matic. Lucan  runs  to  the  oppofite  extreme  :  and  is 
guilty  of  a  ftill  greater  fault,  in  Huffing  his  Pbarfalia 
with  cold  and  languid  reflexions,  the  merit  of  which 
he  aiTumcs  to  himlclf,  and  deigns  not  to  (hare  with  his 
adtors.  Nothing  can.be  more  injudicioufly  timed,  than 
a  chain  of  fuch  refleflions,  which  fufpend  the  battle  of 
Pharfalia  after  the  leaders  had  made  their  fpeeches,  and 
the  two  armies  are  ready  to  engnge  f; 

Arillotle,  from  the  nature  of  the  fable,  divides  tra- 
gedy into  fimple  and  complex;  but  it  is  of  greater  mo- 
ment, with  refpedt  to  dramatic  as  well  as  epic  poetry, 
to  found  a  diftindion  upon  the  different  ends  attained 
by  fuch  compoliiions.  A  poem,  whether  dramatic  or 
epic,  that  lias  nothing  in  view  but  to  move  the  paflions, 
and  to  exhibit  pidluies  of  virtue  and  vice,  may  be  dif- 
tinguiilied  by  the  name  of  pathetic :  but  where  a  ttory 
is  purpofely  contrived  to  illuftrate  feme  moral  truth,  by 
Ihewing  that  difonierly  palfions  naturally  lead  to  exter- 
nal misfortunes,  fuch  compofition  may  be  denominated 
moral  %•     Befide  making  a  deeper  impreffion  than  can  be 

done 

*  Poet,  chap,  25.  fed.  6. 

t  Lib,  7.  from  line  385.  to  line  460.. 

X  The  fame  dillinCtion  is  applicable  to  that  fort  of 
fable  which  is  faid  to  be  the  invention  of  j^fop  A^ 
moral,  it  is  true,  is  by  all  critics  conlidered  as  elfential 
to  fuch  fable.  But  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  be 
led  blindly  by  authority ;  for  of  the  numerous  colledti- 
ons  I  have  feen,  the  fables  that  clearly  inculcate  a  mo- 
lal,  make  a  very  fmall  part.     1q  many  fables,  indeed, 

proper 


23?  Epic  and  Dramatic         Ch.  XXII. 

done  by  cool  reafoning,  a  moral  poem  does  not  fall  fhort 
of  realbning  in  affording  convi(ilion  ;  the  natural  con- 
nexion of  vice  v/ith  niifery,  and  of  virtue  with  happi- 
nefs,  may  be  illuftraled  by  ftating  a  fa£t  as  well  as  by 
urging  an  argument.  Let  us  affuiiie,  for  example,  the 
following  moral  truths  ;  that  difcoid  among  the  chiefs 
renders  ineffectual  all  common  meafures ;  and  that  the 
confequences  of  a  (lightly-founded  quarrel,  foftered  by 
pride  and  arrogance,  are  not  lefs  fatal  than  thofe  of  the 
groffeft  injury  :  thefe  tiuihs  may  be  inculcated,  by  the 
qua-rel  between  Agamemnon  and  Achilles  at  the  fiege 
of  Troy.  If  fads  or  circumtlances  be  wanting,  fuch  as 
tend  to  roufe  the  turbulent  paffions,  they  mull  be  in- 
vented ;  but  no  accidental  nor  unaccountable  event 
ought  to  be  invented  or  admitted  ;  for  the  necelfary  or 
probable  connexion  between  vice  and  mifery,  is  not 
learned  from  any  events  but  what  are  naturally  occafi- 
oned  by  the  charafters  aud  paffions  of  the  perfons  re- 
prefented,  fitting  In  fuch  and  fuch  circumliances.  A 
real  event  of  wnich  we  fee  not  the  caufe,  may  afford  a 
Ifffon,  upon  the  prefumption  that  what  hath  happened 
may  again  happen  :  but  this  cannot  be  inferred  Irom  a 
floty  tiiat  is  known  to  be  a  fiiiftion. 

iVlany  are  the  good  effeds  of  fuch  compofitions.  A 
pathetic  compofition,  whether  epic  or  dramatic,  tends 
to  a  habit  of  virtue,  by  exciting  us  to  do  what  is  right, 
and  relbaining  us  from  what  is  wrong  *.  Its  frequent 
piduies  of  human  woes,  produce,  befide,  two  effefts 
extemely  falutary  :  they  improve  our  fympathy,  and  at 
the  fame  time  fortify  us  in  bearing  our  own  misfortunes. 
A  moral  compofition  muft  obvioufly  produce  the  fame 
good  effefls,  becaufe  by  being  moral  it  ceafeth  not  to 
be  pathetic  :  it  enjoys  befide  an  excellence  peculiar  to 
itieif ;  for  it  not  only  improves  the  heart,  as  above  men- 
tioned, but  inftruds  the  head  by  the  moral  it  contains. 
For  my  part,  I  cannot  imagine  any  entertainment  more 

fuited 

proper  pictures  of  virtue  and  vice  are  exhibited  :  but 
the  bulk  of  theie  collections  convey  no  inftrutStion,  nor 
afford  any  amuiement  beyond  what  a  child  receives  ia 
reading  an  ordinary  ftory. 

*-See  chap.  z.  part  i.  fed.  4., 


Ch.  XXII.  Compositions.  239 

fuited  to  a  rational  being,  than  a  work  thus  happily  il- 
luftrating  fome  moral  truth  ;  where  a  number  of  per- 
fons  of  different  characters  are  engaged  in  an  important 
action,  fome  retarding,  others  promoting,  the  great  ca- 
taftrophe  :  and  where  there  is  dignity  of  flyle  as  well  as 
of  matter.  A  work  of  that  kind,  has  our  ryn)pathy  at 
command,  and  can  put  in  motion  the  whole  train  of  the 
focial  affedions:  our  curiofity  in  fome  fcenes  is  excited, 
in  others  gratified:  and  our  delight  confummated  at  the 
clofe,  upon  finding,  from  the  chara61ers  and  fituations 
exhibited  at  the  commencement,  that  every  incident 
down  to  the  final  cataft.ophe  is  natural,  and  that  the 
whole  in  conjundlion  make  a  regular  chain  of  caufes 
and  effects. 

Confidering  that  an  epic  and  a  dramatic  poem  are  the 
fame  in  (ubftance  and  have  the  fame  aim  or  end,  one 
would  readily  imagine,  that  fubjeds  proper  for  the  one 
muft  be  equally  proper  for  the  other.  But  confiderirg 
their  difference  as  to  form,  there  will  be  found  reafon 
to  correct  that  conjedture,  at  Icall  in  fome  degree.  Ma- 
ny fubjefts  may  indeed  be  treated  with  equal  advantage 
in  either  form  ;  but  the  fubjeds  are  ftill  more  numerous 
for  which  they  are  not  equally  qualified  j  and  there  are 
fubjefls  proper  for  the  one  and  not  nt  all  for  the  other. 
To  give  fome  flight  notion  of  the  difference,  as  there  is 
no  room  here  for  enlarging  upon  every  aiticie,  I  obferve, 
that  dialogue  is  the  beft  qualified  tor  expreffing  fenti- 
ments,  and  narrative  for  difplaying  fads.  Heroifm, 
magnanimity,  undaunted  courage,  and  the  whole  rribe 
of  the  elevated  virtues,  figure  beft  in  adion  :  te  ide-r 
paffions,  and  the  whole  tribe  of  fympathetic  affedions, 
figure  beft  in  fentiment:  what  we  feci  is  the  molt  re- 
markable in  the  latter ;  what  we  peifoni)  is  the  moft  re- 
iTiaikable  in  the  former.  It  clearly  follows,  that  tender 
paffions  are  more  peculiarly  the  piovince  of  tragedy, 
grand  and  heroic  adions  of  epic  poetry  *• 

I  have  no  occafion  to  fay  more  upon  the  epic,  confi- 

dered 

*  In  Racine,  tender  fentiments  prevail;  in  Corneilie, 
grand  and  heroic  manners.  Hence  cleiiy  (he  preflr- 
ence  of  the  former  before  the  latter,  asdiani>  i:.  ^ofts. 
Corneilie  would  have  figured  better  in  an  heroic  poem. 


240  Eprc  AND  Dramatic       Ch.  XXII. 

dered  as  peculiarly  adapted  to  certain  fubjedts.  But  as 
dramatic  fubjed^s  are  more  complex,  I  muil  take  a  nar- 
rower view  of  them  ;  which  1  do  the  more  willingly,  in 
order  to  clear  a  point  thrown  into  great  obfcurity  by 
critics. 

In  the  chapter  of  emotions  and  pafTions  *,  it  is  occa- 
fionally  fhewn,  that  the  fubjedl  beft  fitted'  for  tragedy  is 
where  a  man  has  himfelf  been  the  caufe  of  his  misfor- 
tune ;  not  fo  as  to  be  deeply  guilty,  nor  altogether  in- 
nocent :  the  misfortune  mull  be  occafioned  by  a  fault 
incident  to  human  nature,  and  therefore  in  fome  degree 
venial.  Such  misfortunes  call  forth  the  focial  affeflions, 
and  warmly  intereft  the  fpeftator.  An  accidental  mif- 
fortune,  if  not  extremely  fingular,  doth  not  greatly 
move  our  pity:  the  perfon  who  fufFers,  being  innocent, 
is  freed  from  the  greatell  of  all  torments,  that  anguifh 
of  mind  which  is  occafioned  by  remorfe  : 

Poco  e  funefta 
Laltrui  fortuna 
Quando  non  refta 
Ragione  alcuna 
Ne  di  pentirfi,  ne  darroflir.  Metajlafio. 

An  atrocious  criminal,  on  the  other  hand,  who  brings 
misfortunes  upon  himfelf,  excites  little  pity,  for  a  dif- 
ferent reafon  :  his  remorie,  it  is  true,  aggravates  his 
diftrefs,  and  fwells  the  firfl  emotions  of  pity;  but  then 
our  hatred  of  him,  as  a  criminal,  blending  with  pity, 
blunts  its  edge  confiderably.  Misfortunes  that  are  not 
innocent,  nor  highly  criminal,  partake  the  advantages 
of  each  extreme  :  they  are  attended  with  remorfe  to 
embitter  the  diftrefs,  which  raites  our  pity  to  a  great 
height;  and  the  flight  indignation  we  have  at  a  venial 
fault,  detrads  not  fenfibly  from  our  pity.  For  that  rea- 
fon, the  happiell  of  all  fubjeds  for  railing  pity,  is  where 
a  man  of  integrity  falls  into  a  great  niutbrtune  by  do- 
ing an  adion  that  is  innocent;  b')t  which,  by  lome  fin- 
gular means,  is  conceived  by  him  to  be  criminal  :  his 
lemorfe  aggravates  his  diftrefs  ;  and  our  companion,  un- 
icftiained  by  indignation,  knows  no  bounds,   hity  comes 

thus 

*  Part  4. 


Ch.  XXIT.  Compositions.  241 

thus  to  be  the  ruling  pafTion  of  a  pathetic  tragedy;  and, 
by  proper  reprefentation,  may  be  raifed  to  a  height 
fcarce  exceeded  by  any  thing  felt  in  real  lite.  A  moral 
tragedy  takes  in  a  larger  field  ;  as  it  not  only  exercifes 
our  pitv,  but  raifes  another  paffion,  which,  though  fel- 
fifli,  dei'erves  ro  be  cherilljed  equally  with  the  focial  af- 
feftion.  The  pnffioo  I  have  in  view  is  fear  or  terror  ; 
for  when  a  misfortune  is  the  natural  confequence  of 
fome  wrong  bias  in  the  temper,  every  fpeftator  who  is 
confcious  of  fuch  a  wrong  bias  in  himfelf,  takes  the  a- 
larm,  and  dreads  his  falling  into  the  fame  misfortune  : 
and  by  that  emotion  of  fear  or  teiror,  frequently  reite- 
rated in  a  variety  of  moral  tragedies,  the  fpedtarors  are 
put  upon  their  guard  againft  the  difordirs  of  paffion. 

The  commentators  upon  Ariftotle,  and  other  critics, 
have  been  much  graveled  about  the  account  g^ven  of 
tragedy  by  that  author:   "  That  by  means  of  pity  and 
"  terror,  it  refines  or  purifies  in  us  all  foits  of  paifion." 
But  no  one  who  has  a  clear  conception  of  the  end  and 
effects  of  a  good  tragedy,  can  have  any  difHculty  about 
Ariftotle's  meaning:  our  pity  is  engaged  for  the  perfons 
reprefented  ;  and  our  terror  is  upon  our  own  account. 
Pity  indeed  is  here  made  to  ftand  for  all  the  lyiTipathetic 
emotions,  becaufe  of  thele  it   is  the  capital.     There 
can  be  no  doubt,  that  our  fympathetic  emotions  are  re- 
fined or  improved  by  daily  exercife;  and  in  what  man- 
ner our  other  paflions  are  refined  by  terror,  I  have  juft 
now  faid.     One  thing  is  certain,  that  no  other  meaning 
can  juftly  be  given  to  the  foregoing  doftrine  than  that 
now  mentioned  ;  and  th^t  it  was  really  Arifl-otle's  mean- 
ing, appears  from  his  13th  chapter,  where  he  delivers 
feveral  propoiitions  conformable  to  the  doctrine  as  here 
explained.     Thefe,  at  the  fame  time,  I  take  liberty  to 
mention  ;  becaufe,  fo  far  as  authority  can  go,  they  con- 
firm the  foregoing  reafoning  about  fubjects  proper  for 
tragedy.    The  firtl  propofition  is,  That  it  being  the  pro- 
vince of  tragedy  to  excite  pity  and  terror,  an  innocent 
perlon  falling  into  adverfity  ought  never  to  be  the  fub- 
ject.     This  propofition  is  a   neceffiry   confequence  of 
his  doctrine  as  explained  :  a  fubject  of  that  nature  may 
indeed  excite  pity  and  terror;  but  the  former  in  an  in 
ferior  degree,  and  the  latter  in  no  degree  for  moral  in- 

IbuQion. 


242  Epic  AVD  Dramatic       Cli.XXl. 

ftruction.  The  fecoiid  propofition  is,  That  the  hiflory 
of  a  wicked  perfon  in  a  change  from  iiiilery  to  happinefs, 
ought  not  to  be  reprefcnted  ;  which  excites  neither  ter- 
ror nor  compalfion,  nor  is  agreeable  in  any  refpect.  The 
third  is,  That  the  misfortunes  of  a  wielded  perfon  ought 
not  to  be  reprefented  :  fuch  reprefentation  may  be  a- 
greeablc  in  fome  meafure  upon  a  principle  of  juftice  ; 
but  it  will  not  move  our  pity  j  nor  any  degree  of  terror, 
except  in  thofe  of  the  lame  vicious  difpofition  with 
the  perfon  reprefented.  The  lafl.  propofition  is,  That 
the  only  character  fit  for  reprefentation  lies  in  the  mid- 
dle, neither  eminently  good  nor  eminently  bad  ;  where 
the  misfortune  is  not  the  effect  of  deliberate  vice,  but 
of  fome  involuntary  fault,  as  our  author  exprefTes  it*. 
The  only  objection  I  find  to  Ariffotle's  account  of  tra- 
gedy, is,  that  he  confines  it  within  too  narrovv  bounds, 
by  refufing  admittance  to  the  patheiic  kind  :  for  if  ter- 
ror be  elTential  to  tragedy,  no  reprefentation  deferves 
that  name  but  the  moral  kind,  where  the  misfortunes 
exhibited  are  caufed  by  a  wrong  balance  of  mind,  or 
fome  diforder  in  the  inteinal  conllitution  :  fuch  misfor- 
tunes always  fuggeft  moral  inttruction  j  and  by  fuch 
rnisfortunes  only,  can  terror  be  excited  for  our  improve- 
ment. 

Thus  Ariftotle's  four  propofitlons  above  mentioned, 
relate  folely  to  tragedies  of  the  moral  kind.  Thofe  of 
the  pathetic  kind,  are  not  confined  wi'.hin  fo  narrow  li- 
mits: fubjects  fitted  for  the  theatre,  are  not  in  fuch 
plenty  as  to  make  us  reject  innocent  misfortunes  which 
Tonft  our  fympathy,  though  they  inculcate  no  moral. 
Vvith  relpedt  indeed  to  fubjects  of  that  kind,  it  may  be 
doub'eJ,  .vhether  the  concluiion  ought  not  always  to 
be  loininate.  Where  a  perfon  of  integrity  is  repretent- 
eu  ci?  lutfsring  to  the  end  under  misfortunes  purely  ac- 
cidental, we  depart  difcontented,  and  with  lome  obfcure 
kniQ  of  injuttice  :  for  feldom  is  man  fo  fubmiflive  to 
Providence,  as  not  to  revolt  again!^  the  tyranny  and  vex- 
ations 

*  If  one  can  be  :i  nufed  with  a  grave  dilcourfe  which 
promifeih  much  and  performs  nothing,  he  may  fee  this 
lubject  treated  by  Bruraoy  in  his  Theatre  Crec,  Preh- 
miuaiy  uifcourfc  on  the  origin  of  tragedy. 


Ch.  XXII.  Compositions."  243 

ations  of  blind  chance  ;  he  will  be  inclined  to  fay,  This 
ought  not  to  be.  1  give  for  an  example  the  Romeo  and 
Juliet  of  Shakefpear,  where  the  fatal  cataftrophe  is  oc- 
cafioned  by  Friar  Laurence's  coming  to  the  monument 
a  minute  too  late  :  we  are  vexed  at  the  unlucky  chance, 
and  go  away  dilfatisfied.  Such  impreflions,  which  ought 
not  to  be  cherifhed,  are  a  fufficient  reafon  for  excluding 
ftories  of  that  kind  from  the  theatre.  The  misfortunes 
of  a  virtuous  perfon,  arifing  from  necelTary  caufes  or 
from  a  chain  of  unavoidable  circumftances,  will  be  con- 
fidered  in  a  different  light:  chance  making  an  impreflion 
of  anarchy  and  mifrule,  produces  always  a  gloomy  prof- 
pedt :  on  the  contrary,  a  regular  chain  of  caufes  and 
effefls  diredted  by  the  general  laws  of  nature,  never 
fails  to  fuggeft  the  hand  of  Providence  ;  to  which  we 
fubmit  without  refentment,  being  confcious  that  fub- 
miflion  is  our  duty*  For  that  reafon,  we  are  not  dif- 
gufted  with  the  diftreffes  of  Voltaire's  Mariamne,  though 
redoubled  on  her  till  her  death,  without  the  leaft  fault 
or  failing  on  her  part:  her  misfortunes  are  owing  to  a 
caufe  extremely  natural,  and  not  unfrequent,  the  jea- 
loufy  of  a  barbarous  hufband.  The  fate  of  Defdemona 
in  the  Moor  of  l^enice,  affedts  us  in  the  fame  manner. 
•  We  are  not  fo  eafily  reconciled  to  the  fate  of  Cordelia 
in  King  Lear:  the  caufes  of  her  misfortune  are  by  no 
means  fo  evident,  as  to  exclude  the  gloomy  notion  of 
chance.  In  fhort,  a  perfect  charafter  fuffering  under 
misfortunes,  is  qualified  for  being  the  fubjeCl  of  a  pa- 
thetic tragedy,  provided  chance  be  excluded.  Nor  is  a 
perfedl  character  altogether  inconfiftent  with  a  moral 
tragedy  :  it  may  fuccefsfully  be  introduced  as  an  under- 
part,  fuppofing  the  chief  place  to  be  filled  with  an  im- 
perfect character  from  which  a  moral  can  be  drawn. 
This  is  the  cafe  of  Defdemona  and  Mariamne  juft  novr 
mentioned  j  and  it  is  the  cafe  of  Monimia  and  Belvide- 
ra,  in  Otvvay's  two  tragedies,  The  Orphan,  and  yenice 
frefervd. 

\  had  an  early  opportunity  to  unfold  a  curious  doc- 
trine, That  fable  operates  on  our  paflions,  by  repre- 

VoL  II.  L  fenting 

*  See  effays  on  the  principles  of  morality,  edit.  2. 
p.  291. 


644  Epic  and  Dramatic       Ch.  XXII. 

fenting  its  events  as  pafllng  in  our  fight,  and  by  delu- 
ding us  into  a  conviction  of  reality  *.  Hence,  in  epic 
and  dramatic  compofitions,  every  circumftance  ought  to 
be  employ'd  that  may  promote  the  delufion ;  fuch  as 
the  borrowing  from  hillory  fome  noted  event,  with  the 
addition  of  circumftances  that  may  anfwer  the  author's 
purpofe :  the  principal  facts  are  known  to  be  true  ;  and 
we  are  difpofed  to  extend  our  belief  to  every  circum- 
ftance.  But  in  chufmg  a  fubject  that  makes  a  figure  in 
hiftory,  greater  precaution  is  necefTary  than  where  the 
whole  is  a  fiction.  In  the  latter  cafe  there  is  full  fcopc 
for  invention  :  the  author  is  under  no  reftraint  other 
than  that  the  characters  and  incidents  be  jufl:  copies  of 
nature.  But  where  the  ftory  is  founded  on  truth,  no 
circumftances  niuft  be  added,  but  fuch  as  connect  natu- 
Tally  with  what  are  known  to  be  true ;  hiftory  may  be 
fupplied,  but  muft  not  be  contradicted  :  further,  the 
fubject  chofen  muft  be  diftant  in  time,  or  at  leaft  in 
place;  for  the  familiarity  of  recent  perfons  and  events 
ought  to  be  avoided.  Familiarity  ought  more  efpeci- 
ally  to  be  avoided  in  an  epic  poem,  the  peculiar  cha- 
lacter  of  which  is  dignity  and  elevation  :  modern  man- 
ners make  hut  a  poor  figure  in  fuch  a  poem  f. 

After  Voltaire,  no  writer,  it  is  probable,  will  think 
©f  rearing  an  epic  poem  upon  a  recent  event  in  the  hif- 
tory of  his  own  countiy.  But  an  event  of  that  kind  is 
perhaps  not  altogether  unqualified  for  tragedy  :  it  was 
admitted  in  Greece  ;  and  Shakefpear  has  employ'd  it 
fuccefs^Ily  in  feveral  of  his  pieces.  One  advantage  it 
pofleifes  above  fiction,  that  of  more  readily  engaging 
our  belief,  which  tends  above  any  other  particular  to 

raifc 

*  Chap   2.  part  i.  feet.  7. 

-j-  I  would  not  from  this  obfervation  be  thought  to 
undervalue  modern  manners.  The  roughnefs,  plainnefs, 
and  impetuofity  of  antient  manners,  may  fliew  better  in 
an  epic  poem,  without  being  better  fitted  for  fociety. 
But  without  regard  to  this  circumftance,  it  is  the  fa- 
miliarity of  modem  tuanners  that  unqualifies  them  for 
a  lofty  fubjefl.  The  dignity  of  o  ir  prefcnt  manners, 
will  be  better  underftood  in  future  ages,  when  they  are 
no  longer  familiar. 


Ch.XXII.  Compositions.  245 

raife  our  fympathy.  The  fcene  of  comedy  is  generally 
laid  at  home ;  familiarity  is  no  objection  ;  and  we  are 
peculiarly  fenfible  of  the  ridicule  of  our  own  manners. 

After  a  proper  fubjed  is  chofen,  the  dividing  it  into 
parts  requires  fome  art.  The  conclufion  of  a  book  in 
an  epic  poem,  or  of  an  a£l  in  a  play,  cannot  be  altoge- 
ther arbitrary;  nor  be  intended  for  fo  flight  a  purpofe 
as  to  make  the  parts  of  equal  length.  The  fuppofed 
paufe  at  the  end  of  every  book,  and  the  real  paufe  at 
the  end  of  every  aft,  ought  always  to  coincide  with 
fome  paufe  in  the  adion.  In  this  refpedt,  a  dramatic 
or  epic  poem  ought  to  refemble  a  fentence  or  period  in 
language,  divided  into  members  that  are  diftinguifh^d. 
from  each  other  by  proper  paufes  j  or  it  ought  to  re- 
femble a  piece  of  mufic,  having  a  full  clofe  at  the  end, 
preceded  by  imperfeft  clofes  that  contribute  to  the  me* 
lody.  Every  a£t  in  a  dramatic  poem  ought  therefore 
to  clofe  with  fome  incident  that  makes  a  paufe  in  the 
aftion  ;  for  otherwife  there  can  be  no  pretext  for  in- 
terrupting the  reprefentaiion  :  it  would  be  abfurd  to 
break  off  in  the  very  heat  of  adion  ;  againfl  which  e- 
very  one  would  exclaim  :  the  abfurdity  flill  remains, 
though  the  aftion  relents,  if  it  be  not  aftually  fufpend- 
ed  for  fome  time.  This  rule  is  alfo  applicable  to  an 
epic  poem  :  though  there,  a  deviation  from  the  rule  is 
lefs  remarkable  ;  becaufe  it  is  in  the  reader's  power  to 
hide  the  abfurdity,  by  proceeding  inftantly  to  another 
book.  The  firtl  book  of  Paradife  loft  ends  without  a- 
ny  clofe,  perfed  or  imperfeft  :  it  breaks  off  abruptly, 
where  Satan,  feated  on  his  throne,  is  prepared  to  ha- 
rangue the  convocaced  hort  of  the  fall  n  angels  ;  and 
the  fecond  book  begins  with  the  fpeech.  Milton  feems 
to  have  copied  the  /Eneid,  of  which  the  two  firft  books 
are  divided  much  in  the  fame  manner.  Neither  is  there 
any  proper  paufe  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  book  of  the 
JEneid.  There  is  no  proper  paufe  at  the  end  of  the 
feventh  book  of  Paradife  loft,  nor  at  the  end  of  the 
eleventh. 

This  branch  of  the  fubjcft  fhali  be  clofed  with  a  ge- 
neral rule.  That  acStion  being  the  fundamental  part  of 
every  compofition  whether  epic  or  dramatic,  the  fenti- 
■lents  and  tone  of  language  ought  to  be  fubfervient  to 


246  Epic  and  Dramatic        Ch.  XXII. 

the  aaion,  fo  as  to  appear  natural,  and  proper  for  the 
occafion.  The  application  of  this  rule  to  our  modern 
plays,  would  reduce  the  bulk  of  them  to  a  (keleton  ♦ 

After  carrying  on  together  epic  and  dramatic  compo- 
litions,  I  proceed  to  handle  them  feparately,\nd  to 
inention  c.rcumftances  peculiar  to  each;  beginning  with 
the  epic  kind.  In  a  theatrical  entertainment,  thich 
employs  both  the  eye  and  the  ear,  it  would  be  a  grofs 
abfurdity  to  introduce  upon  the  ftage  fuperior  bein|s  ia 

a  vifible 

^  *  En  general  il  y  a  beaucoup  dedifcours  et  peu  d'ac- 
tion  fur  la  fcene  Francoife.  Quelqu'un  difoit  en  fortant 
d'une  piece  de  Denis  le  Tiran,  Je  n'ai  rien  vu,  mais  j  ai 
cntendu  force  paroles.  Voila  ce  qu'on  peut  dire  en  for- 
tant des  pieces  Francoifes.  Racine  et  Corncille  avec 
tout  ieur  genie  ne  font  eux-memes  que  des  parleurs,  et 
leur  fucceffeur  eft  le  premier  qui,  a  limitation  des  An- 
glois,  ait  ofe  mettre  quelquefois  la  fcene  en  repiefcnta- 
tion,  Communement  tout  fe  palfe  en  beaux  dialogues 
iien  agcnces,  bien  ronflans,  ou  Ton  voit  d'abord  que  le 
premier  foin  de  chaque  interlocuteur  eft  toujours  celui 
<ic  briller.  Prefque  tout  s'enonce  en  maximes  generales. 
Cacique  agites  qu'ils  puiifcnt  ctre,  ils  fongent  toujours 
plus  au  public  qu'a  eux-memes ;  unefentence  leur  coute 
iiioins  qu'un  fentiment ;  les  pieces  de  Racine  et  de  Mo- 
liere  exceptees,  le  je  eft  prefque  auffi  fcrupuleufement 
banni  de  la  fcene  Francoife  que  des  ecritsde  Port-Royal; 
et  les  palfions  humaines,  aufti  modeftes  que  I'humilite 
Chretienne,  n'y  parlent  jamais  que  par  ofi.  II  y  a  encore 
une  certaine  dignite  manieree  dans  le  gefte  et  dans  le 
piopos,  qui  ne  permet  jamais  a  la  paffi^n  de  parler  ex- 
adtement  fon  language,  ni  a  I'auteur  de  revetir  fon  per- 
fonage,  et  de  fe  tranfporier  au  lieu  de  la  fcene,  niais  le 
tient  toujours  enchainc  fur  le  theatre,  et  fous  les  yeux 
des  fpectateurs.  Aufli  les  fituations  les  plus  vives  ne 
lui  fontelles  jamais  oublier  un  bel  arrangemt-nt  de  phra- 
fes,  ni  des  attitudes  elegantes  ;  et  fi  le  defefpoir  lui  plon- 
ge  un  poignard  dans  le  coeur,  non  conient  d'obferver  la 
ddcence  en  tombant  comme  Po:ixene,  il  ne  tombe  point; 
]a  C6cence  le  maintient  debout  apres  fa  mort,  et  tous 
ceux  qui  viennent  d'expirer  s'en  retouinent  Tinftanl 
da'pris  fur  leurs  jambes.  Roujfeau. 


Ch.  XXII.  Compositions.'  247 

a  vifible  fhape.  There  is  not  place  for  fuch  objection 
in  an  epic  poem  ;  and  Boileau  *,  with  many  other  cri- 
tics, declares  ftrongly  for  that  fort  of  machinery  in  an 
epic  poem  But  waving  authority,  which  is  apt  to  im- 
pofe  upon  the  judgment,  let  us  draw  what  light  we  can 
from  reafon.  I  begin  with  a  preliminary  remark,  That 
this  matter  is  but  indirtinctly  handled  by  critics:  the 
poetical  privilege  of  animating  infenfible  objects  for  en- 
livening a  defcription,  is  very  different  from  what  is 
termed  machinery,  where  deitiea,  angels,  devils,  or  o- 
ther  fupernatural  powers,  are  introduced  as  real  perfo- 
nages,  mixing  in  the  action,  and  contributing  to  the  ca- 
taftrophe;  and  yet  thefe  two  things  are  conftantly  jum- 
bled together  in  the  reafoning.  The  former  is  founded 
on  a  natural  principle  f :  but  can  the  latter  claim  the 
fame  authority  ?  fo  far  from  it,  that  nothing  is  more 
unnatural.  Its  effects,  at  the  fame  time,  are  deplora- 
We.  Firll,  it  gives  an  air  of  fiction  to  the  whole  ;  and 
prevents  that  fmpreffion  of  reality  which  is  requifite  to 
rntereft  our  affections,  and  to  move  our  paffions  § : 
which  of  itfelf  is  fufficient  to  explode  machinery,  what- 
ever entertainment  it  may  afford  to  readers  of  a  fan- 
taftic  tafte  or  irregular  imagfnstion.  And,  nexf,  were 
It  poiTible,  by  dilguifing  the  fiction,  to  delude  us  in  o 
a  notion  of  reality,  which  I  think  can  hardlv  be;  an  in- 
superable objection  would  ftill  remain,  which  is,  ttiat 
the  aim  or  end  of  an  epic  poem  can  never  be  attained 
in  any  perfection  where  machinery  is  introduced  ;  for 
an  evider.t  reafon,  that  virtuous  emotions  cannot  be 
raifed  fuccefsfully  but  by  the  actions  of  thofe  who  are 
endued  with  paffions  and  affections  like  our  own,  that  is, 
by  human  actions:  and  as  for  moral  inftruction,  it  is 
clear,  that  none  can  be  drawn  from  beings  who  act  not 
upon  the  fame  principles  with  us.  A  fable  in  TEfop's 
manner  is  no  objeaion  to  this  reafoning:  his  lions,  bulls, 
and  goats,  are  truly  men  under  dilguife  :  they  aft  and 
teel  m  every  relpeft  as  human  beings ;  and  the  moral 
we  draw  is  founded  on  that  fuppofition.  Homer,  it  13 
L  3  true. 


Third  part  of  his  art  of  poetry, 
t  Chap.  20.  feet,  i 
§  See  chap.  2.  part  i.  feet,  7. 


248  Epic  AND  Dramatic         Ch.XXII. 

true,  introduces  the  gods  into  Iiis  fable:  but  the  reli- 
gion of  his  country  authorifed  that  liberty;  it  being  an 
article  in  the  Grecian  creed,  that  the  gods  often  intcr- 
pofe  vifibly  and  bodily  in  human  alTairs.  I  muft  howe- 
ver oblerve,  that  Homer's  deities  do  no  honour  to  his 
poems  :  fiQions  that  tranfgrefs  the  bounds  of  nature, 
feldom  have  a  good  effect;  they  may  inflame  the  ima- 
gination for  a  moment,  but  will  not  be  relilhed  by  any 
perfon  of  a  correct  tafte.  They  may  be  of  fome  ufe 
to  the  lower  rank  of  writers  ;  but  an  author  of  genius 
has  much  finer  materials  of  Nature's  produQion,  for 
elevating  his  fubjeQ,  and  making  it  interefting. 

One  would  be  apt  to  think,  that  Boileau,  declaring 
for  the  Heathen  deities  as  above,  intended  them  only 
for  embellifhing  the  didlion  :  but  unluckily  he  banilhes 
angels  and  devils,  who  undoubtedly  make  a  figure  in 
poetic  language,  equal  to  the  Heathen  deities.  Boileau 
therefore  by  pleading  for  the  latter  in  0|:>pofition  to  the 
former,  certainly  meant,  if  he  had  any  diftindl  mean- 
ing, that  the  Heathen  deities  may  be  introduced  as  ac- 
tors. And,  in  fa£t,  he  himfelf  is  guilty  of  that  glaring 
abfurdity,  where  it  is  not  fo  pardonable  as  in  an  epic 
poem :  in  his  ode  upon  the  taking  of  Namur,  he  de- 
mands with  a  moft  lerious  countenance,  whether  the 
walls  were  built  by  Apollo  or  Neptune:  and  in  relating 
the  paflage  of  the  Rhine,  auno  1672,  he  defcrlbes  the 
god  of  that  river  as  fighting  with  all  bis  might  to  op- 
pofe  the  French  monarch;  which  is  confounding  ficti- 
on Vi^ith  reality  at  a  Orange  rate.  The  French  writers 
in  general  run  into  this  error ;  wonderful  the  effect  of 
cuiiora,  entirely  to  hide  fioni  them  how  ridiculous  fuch 
fictions  are  ! 

That  this  is  a  capital  error  in  the  Gierufalemme  li- 
ierata,  Taffo's  greateft  admirers  mult  acknowledge  :  a 
fituation  can  never  be  intricate,  nor  the  reader  ever  in 
pain  about  the  cataftrophe,  fo  long  as  theie  is  an  angel, 
devil,  or  magician,  to  lend  a  helping  hand.  Voltaire, 
in  his  efTay  upon  epic  poetiy,  talking  of  the  Pharfaliat 
obferves  judicioufly,  "  That  the  proximity  of  time, 
*♦  the  notoriety  of  events,  the  character  of  the  age,^ 
*'  enlightened  and  political,  joined  with  the  folidity  of 
«  Lucan's  fubjec't,  deprived  him  of  all  liberty  of  poe- 

♦«  tical 


Ch.  XXII.  Compositions.  249 

««  ttcal  fiction."  Is  it  not  amazing,  that  a  critic  who 
reafons  fo  juftly  with  relpea  to  others,  can  be  fo  blind 
with  refpea  to  hiinfelf  ?  Voltaire,  not  fatisfied  to  enrich 
his  language  with  images  drawn  from  invilible  and  fu- 
perior  bein'gs,  introduces  them  into  the  action :  in  the 
fixth  canto  of  the  Henriade,  St  Louis  appears  in  per- 
fon,  and  terrifies  the  foldiers ;  in  the  feventh  canto,  St 
Louis  fends  the  god  of  Sleep  to  Henry;  and,  in  the 
tenth,  the  demons  of  Dlfcord,  Fanaticifm,  War,  X3c, 
.ainft  Auniale  in  a  fingle  combat  with  Turenne,  and  are 
driven  away  bv  a  good  angel  brandifhing  the  fword  of 
God.  To  blend  fuch  fictitious  perfonages  in  the  fame 
action  with  mortals,  makes  a  bad  figure  at  any  rate ; 
and  is  intolerable  in  a  hiftory  fo  recent  as  that  of  Hen- 
ry IV.  This  fingly  is  fufficient  to  make  the  Henriade 
a  (hort-liv'd  poem,  were  it  otherwife  poflefled  of  every 

beauty.  , 

I  have  tried  ferious  reafoning  upon  this  fubject ;  but 
ridicule,  I  fuppofe,   will   be   found  a   more    fuccefsful 
weapon,  which  Addifoi  has  applied  in  an  elegant  man- 
ner:   «'  Whereas  the  time  of  a  general  peace  is,  in  all 
"  appearance,  drawing  near  ;  being  informed  that  there 
«'  are  feveral  ingenious  perfons  who  intend  to  ihew  theic 
'*  talents  on  fo  hapoy  an  occafion,  and  being  willing, 
•'  as  much  as  in  me  lies,  to  prevent   that  effufion  ot 
"  nonfenfe  which  we   have  good  caufe  to  apprehend  5 
««   I  do  hereby  ftrictly  require  every  perfon  who  (hall 
*^  write  on    this    fubject,    to    remember   that  he  is    a 
«  Chriftian,  and   not  to  facrifice  his  catechifm  to  his 
««  poetry.     In  order  to  it,  I  do  expect  of  him,  in  the 
«'  firft  place,  to  make  his  own  poem,  without  depend- 
"  ing  upon  Phoebus  for  any  part  of  it,  or  calling  out 
«<  for  aid  upon  any  of  the  mules  by  name.      I  do  like- 
««  wife  pofitively  forbid  the  fending  of  Mercury  witli 
♦*  any  particular   mellage  or  difpatch  relating  to   the 
•«  peace;  and  (hall  by  no  means  fuffer  Minerva  to  take 
«♦  upon  her  the  fliape  of  any  plenipotentiary  concerned 
««  in  this  great  work.     I  do  further  declare,  that  I  mall 
"  not  allow  the  deftinies   to  have  had  an  hand  in  the 
♦«  deaths  of  the  feveral  thoufands  who  have  been  flaia 
"  in  the  late  war ;  being  of  opinion  that  all  fuch  deaths 
"  may  be  well  accounted  for  by  the  Chriftian  fyltem  ot 
^  L  4  "  powdes 


250  E:prc  AND  Dramatic       Ch.XXlI. 

;;  powder  and  ball.     I  do   therefore  ftriaiy  forbid  the 

tates  to  cut  the  thread  of  man's  life  upon  any  pre- 

^^   tence  whatfoever,  uniefs   it   be  for  the  fake  of  the 

u    u^T;     ^"'^  ^'hereas  J  have  good  reafon  to  fear, 

..  ;^?«f  Neptune  will  have   a  great  deal  of  budnefs  on 

^^  his  hands  in  feveral  poems  which  we  may  now  fup- 

^   poie  are  upon  the  anvil,  I   do  alfo  prohibit  his  ap- 

^^   pearance,  unjefs  it  be  done  in   metaphor,  limile,  or 

any  very  fhort  allufion  ;  and  that   even  here  he  may 

not  be  permuted  to  enter,  but  with  great  caution  and 

cucumlpecnion.     I  defire  that  the   lau.e  rule  may  be 

^^  extended  to  his  whole  fraternity  of  Heathen  gods ; 

It  bemg  my  defign  to  condemn  every  poem   to  the 

,^    flames  m  which  Jupiter  thunders,  or  exercifes   any 

'  other  aft  of  authority  which  does  not  belong  to  him. 

Jn  Ihort,  I  expeft  that  no  Pagan  agent  (hall  be  intro- 

duced,  or  any  faft  related  which  a  man  cannot  give 

•  credit  to  with  a  good  confcience.     Provided  always. 

•  that  nothing  herein  contained  ftall  extend,  or  be  coii- 
*'  Urued  to  extend,  to  feveral  of  the  female  poets  in 
*'  this  nation,  who  Ihall  ftilj  be  left  in  full  pofl-dllon  of 
•'  their  gods  and  goddefTes,  in  the  fame  manner  as  if 

this  paper  had  never  been  written,"  ♦ 
The  marvellous  is  indeed  fo  much  promoted  by  ma- 
chinery, that  It  is  not  wonderful  to  find  it  embraced  by 

the  bulk  of  writers,  and  perhaps  of  readers.  If  indul- 
ged at  all,  It  IS  generally  indulged  to  excefs.  Homer 
introduceth  his  deities  wiih  no  greater  ceremony  than 
his  mortals}  and  V'rgil  has  ftill  lefs  moderation;  a  pi- 
lot fpent  with  watching  cannot  fall  nOeep  and  drop  into 
the  fea  by  natural  n.eans:  one  bed  cannot  receive  the 
two  lovers,  ^neas  and  Dllo.  without  the  immediate 
interpofition  of  fuperior  powers.  The  ridiculous  ia 
luch  heiions,  muft  appear  even  through  the  thickeft 
veil  of  gravity  and  folemnity. 

_  Angels  and  devils  ferve  equally  with  the  Heathen  dei- 
ties as  mate.iaL  lor  figurative  language;  perhaps  better 
among  Chultians,  becaufe  we  believe  in  them,  and  not 
w  the  Heathen  d.-ities.  But  every  one  is  fenfible,  as 
well  as  Boileau,  that  tiie  in'vifible  p'^wers  in  our  creed 

make 

*  Sptftator,  No  523. 


Gh.  XXIT.       Compositions.  251 

make  a  much  worfe  figure  as  aflors  In  a  modern  poem» 
than  the  invifible  powers  in  the  Heathen  creed  did  in 
anrient  poems  ;  the  caufe  of  which  I  take  to  be  what 
follows.  The  Heathen  deities,  in  the  opinion  of  theic 
votaries,  were  beings  elevated  one  ftep  only  above  man- 
kind, fubjed  to  the  fame  paffions,  and  diiedled  by  the 
fame  motives  ;  therefore  not  altogether  improper  to  mis 
with  men  in  an  importanr  aflion  In  our  creed,  fupe- 
rior  beinjfs  are  placed  at  fuch  a  mighty  diita;ice  frem  us, 
and  are  of  a  nature  fo  dilTcrent,  that  with  no  propriety 
can  we  appear  with  them  upon  the  fame  ftage:  man,  a 
creature  much  inferio-.-,  lofes  all  dignity  in  the  compa-  • 
rifon. . 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  that  an  hiftorlcal  poeni  ad«, - 
mits  the  embellifiiment  of  allegory,  as  well  as  of  meta- 
phor, fimile,  or  other  figure.     Moral  truth,  in  particu- 
lar, is  finely  illutlrated  in  the  allegorical  manner  :  it  a- 
nmfes  the  fancy  to  find  abllraft  terms,  by  a  fort  of  ma- 
gic, converted  into  active   beings ;  and  it  is  delightful 
to  trace  a  general  propofition  in  a  pictured  event.     But: 
aHegorical  beings  fliould  be  confined  within  their  owr» 
fphcre,  and  never  be  admitted  to   mix  in   the  principal 
action,  nor  to  co  operate  in  retarding  or  .advancing  the 
catartrophe  ;  which  would  have  a  ftill  worfe  effect  thaix 
invifible  powers;  and   I  am  ready  to  aflign  the  reafon. 
The   imprellion  of  real  exiftence,  effential    to  an  epic 
poem,  is  inconfiilent  with  that  figurative  exiftence  which 
is  effential  to  an  allegory*  ;  and  therefore  no  method 
can  more  effectually  prevent  the  imprellion  of  reality, 
than  the  introtluction  of  allegorical  beings  co-operaring 
with  thofe  whom  we  conceive  to  be  really  exifting.    The 
love-epifode  in  the  Henriade-^-,  infutferable  hy  the  Jif- 
cordant  mixture  of  allegory  with  real  life,  is  copied  from 
that  of  Rinaldd  and  Armida,   in  the  Gierujalemme  libe- 
rata.,  which  hath  no  met  it  to  intitle  it  to  be  copied.    Aa 
allegorical  object,  fuch  as  Fame  in  the  /Eneid,  and  the 
Temple  of  Love  in  the  Henriade^  may  find  place  in  a 
defcription  ;  but  to  introduce  Difcord  as  a  real  perfo- 
nage,  imploring  the  alfittaiice  of  Love  as  another   real 
perfbnage,  to  enervate  the  courage  of  the.  hero,  is  mak- 
L  5  >"g 


*  See  chap.  20.  feet-  O^^.  f  Canto  g.^. 


^52.  Epic  and  Dramatic       Ch.  XXII. 

ing  thefe  figurative  beings  act  beyond  their  fphere,  and 
creating  a  ftrange  jumble  of  truth  and  fiction.  The  al- 
legory of  Sin  and  Death  in  the  Paradife  lojl,  Is,  I  pre- 
sume, not  generally  reliflied,  though  it  is  not  entirely 
of  the  fame  nature  with  what  1  have  been  condemning  : 
in  a  work  comprehending  the  atchievements  of  fuperior 
beings,  there  is  more  room  for  fancy  than  where  it  is 
confined  to  human  actions. 

What  is  the  true  notion  of  an  epifode  ?  or  how  is  it 
to  be  dillinguiflied  from  the  principal  action  ?  Every  in- 
cident that  promotes  or  retards  the  cataflrophe,  muft  be 
part  of  the  principal  action.  T  his  clears  the  nature  of 
an  epifode  j  which  may  be  defined,  "  An  incident  con- 
*«  nected  with  the  piincipal  action,  but  contributing 
*'  neither  to  advance  nor  letard  it."  The  dtfccnt  of 
j^neas  into  hell  doth  not  advance  nor  retard  the  cata- 
llrophe,  and  therefore  is  an  epifode.  The  ftory  of  Ni- 
fus  and  Euryalus,  producing  an  alteration  in  the  affairs 
of  the  contending  pa; ties,  is  a  part  of  the  piincipal  ac- 
tion. 1  he  family-fcene  in  the  fixth  book  of  the  Iliad 
is  of  the  fame  nature;  for  by  Hector's  retiring  fiom  the 
field  of  battle  to  vifit  his  wife,  the  Grecians  had  op-- 
portunity  to  breathe,  and  even  to  turn  upon  the  Tro- 
jans. Such  being  the  nature  of  an  epifode,  the  una- 
voidable effect  of  it  muft  be,  to  break  in  upon  the  unity 
fxf  action ;  and  therefore  it  ought  never  to  be  indulged 
■Bnlefs  to  unbend  the  mind  after  the  fatigue  of  a  long 
narration.  This  purpole  of  an  epifode  demands  the 
following  conditions :  it  ought  to  be  well  connected  with 
the  principal  action  :  it  ought  to  be  lively  and  intereft- 
ing  :  it  ought,  to  be  (hort :  and  a  time  ought  to  be  cfao- 
fen  when  the  principal  action  relents  *. 

In  the  following  beautii'ul  epifode,  which  clofes  the 
fecond  book  of  Fingal,  all  thefe  conditions  are  united. 

Comal  was  a  fon  of  Albion  ;  the  chief  of  an  hundred 

hills. 

•^Homer's  defciipiion  of  the  Ihield  of  Achilles  is  pro- 
perly introduced  at  a  tinae  when  the  action  relents,  and 
the  reader  can  bear  an  interruption.  But  the  author  in 
Telemachus  defcribes  the  fhield  of  that  young  hero  of 
the  midft  of  baitlei.a  very  improper  time  foi  aa  inier- 

TUptiOQ* 


Gh.  XXII.  Compositions.  i$$ 

hills.  His  deet  drunk  of  a  thoufand  dreams;  and  a 
thoufand  rocks  replied  to  the  voice  of  his  dogs.  His 
face  was  the  mildnefs  of  youth  ;  but  his  hand  the  death 
of  heroes.  One  was  his  love,  and  fair  was  fte !  the 
daughter  of  mighty  Conloch.  She  appeared  like  a  fun- 
beam  among  women,  and  her  hair  was  like  the  wing  of 
the  raven.  Her  foul  was  fixed  on  Comal,  and  (he  was 
his  companion  in  the  chace.  Often  met  their  eyes  of 
love,  and  happy  were  their  words  in  fecret.  But  Gor- 
mal  loved  the  maid,  the  chief  of  gloomy  Ardven.  He 
watched  her  lone  fteps  on  the  heath,  the  foe  of  unhap- 
py Comal. 

One  day  tired  of  the  chace,  when  the  mifl:  had  con- 
cealed their  friends,  Comal  and  the  daughter  of  Conloch 
met  in  the  cave  of  Ronan.  It  was  the  wonted  haunt  of 
Comal.  Its  fides  were  hung  with  his  arms;  a  hundred 
fliields  of  thongs  were  there,  a  hundred  helms  of  found- 
ing Heel.  Rell  here,  faid  he,  my  love  Galvina,  thou 
light  of  the  cave  of  Ronan :  a  deer  appears  on  Mora's 
brow  ;  1  go,  but  foon  will  return.  I  fear,  faid  Ihe,  dark 
Gormal  my  foe  ;  I  will  reft  here ;  but  foon  return,  m/ 
love. 

He  went  to  the  deer  of  Mora.  The  daughter  of  Con- 
loch, to  try  his  love,  cloathed  her  white  fide  with  his 
armour,  and  ftrode  from  the  cave  of  Ronan-  Thinking 
her  his  foe,  his  heart  beat  high,  and  his  colour  changed. 
He  drew  the  bow  :  the  arrow  flew  !  Galvina  fell  in 
blood.  He  ran  to  the  cave  with  hafty  fteps,  arKl  called 
the  daughter  of  Conloch.     Where  art  thou,  my  love  ? 

but  no  anfwer } He  marked,  at  length,  her  heaving 

heart  beating  agaiutl   the  moital  arrow.     O  Conloch's  ' 
daughter,  is  it  thou  I   He  funk  upon  her  breaft. 

The  hunters  found  the  haplefs  pair  Many  and  filenC 
were  his  Heps  round  the  dark  dwelling  of  his  love.  Tne 
fleet  of  the  ocean  came :  he  fought,  and  the  ftrang  rs 
fell :  he  fearched  for  death  over  the  field  ;  but  who 
could  kill  the  mighty  Comal .''  Throwing  away  his  fhield,  . 
an  arrow  found  his  manly  breaft.  He  fleeps  with  nis 
Galvina  :  their  green  tombs  are  feen  by  the  mariner,  . 
when  he  bounds  on  the  waves  of  the  north. 

Next^  upon  the  peculiarities  of  a  dramatic  poena. 
^Hd  the  lirit  1  ihaii  mention  is  a  doable  plot;  one  uf 

which  ' 


254  Kpic  and  Dramatic        Ch.  XXIT. 

which  muft  be  of  the  nature  of  an  epifode  in  an  epic 
poem  ;  for  it  would  diftradt  the  fpedlator,  inftead  of  en- 
tertaining him,  if  he  were  forc'd  to  attend,  at  the  fame 
time,  to  two  capital  plots  equally  interefting.  And  e- 
ven  fuppofing  it  an  u^iider-plot,  of  the  nature  of  an  epi- 
fode, it  feldom  hath  a  good  e(Fe£t  in  tragedy,  of  vvhicli 
funplicity  is  a  chief  property  j  for  an  interefting  fubjedt 
that  engages  our  affections,  occupies  our  whole  atten- 
tion, and  leaves  no  room  for  any  feparate  concern  *. 
Variety  is  more  tolerable  in  comedy,  which  pretends 
only   tO/  amufe,  without   totally  occupying  the  mind. 

But 

*  Racine,  in  his  preface  to  the  tragedy  of  Betirice., 
is  fenfible,  that  fimplicity  is  a  great  beauty  in  tragedy, 
but  miftakes  the  caufe.  *'  Nothing  {\x)->i  he)  but  veri- 
*'  fimilitude  pleafes  in  tragedy:  but  where  is  the  verili- 
'•  militude,  that  within  the  compafs  of  a  day,  events 
*■*  fhould  be  crowded  which  commonly  are  extended 
♦'  through  months  ?"  This  is  miltaking  the  accuracy  of 
imitation  for  the  probability  or  improbability  of  future 
events.  I  explain  myfelf.  The  verifimilitude  required 
in  tragedy  is,  that  the  actions  correfpond  to  the  man- 
ners, and  the  manners  to  nature.  When  this  refem- 
blance  is  preferved,  tlie  imitation  is  juft,  becaufe  it  is 
a  true  copy  of  nature.  But  I,  deny  that  the  verifimili- 
tude of  future  events,  meaning  the  probability  of  future 
events,  is  any  rule  in  tragedy.  A  number  of  extraor- 
dinary events,  are,  it  is  true,  feldom  crowded,  within 
the  compafs  of  a  day  :  but  what  feldom  happens  may 
happen  ;  and  when  fuch  events  fall  out,  they  al^ipear  nac 
lefs  natural  than  the  moft  ordinary  accidents.  To  make- 
verifimilitude  in  the  fenfe  of  probability  a  govexning 
rule  in  tragedy,  would  annihilate  that  fort  of  v;iiting 
altogether  j  for  it  would  exclude  all  extraordinary,  e- 
vents,  in  which  the  life  of  tragedy  confiils.  It  is  very 
improbable  or  unlikely,  pitching  upon  any  man  at  ran- 
dom, that  he  will  faciifice  his  life  and  fortune  for  his 
niiftrels  or  for  his  country:  yet  when  that  event  hap- 
pens, fuppofing  it  conformable  to  the  character,  we  re- 
cognife  the  verifimilitude  as  to  nature,  whatever  want 
of  verifimilitude  or  of  probability  there  WW  a  priofs 
that,  fuch  would  be  the  event. 


Ch.  XXir,  Compositions.  255 

But  even  there,  to  make  a  double  p'ot  agreeable,  is  no 
flight  effort  of  art :  the  under  plot  ought  not  to  vary 
greatly  in  its  tone  from  the  principal  j  for  difcordant 
pafllons  are  unpkafant  when  jumbled  together  ;  which, 
by  the  way,  is  an  infuperahle  objeflion  to  tiagi  come- 
dy. Upon  that  account,  I  blame  the  Pro^iok'd  Huf- 
hand :  all  the  fcenes  that  bring  the  family  of  the 
Wrongheads  into  aQion,  being  ludicrous  and  farcical, 
are  in  a  very  different  tone  from  the  principal  fcenes, 
difplaying  fevere  and  bitter  expoftulations  between  Lord 
Townley  and  his  lady.  The  fame  objedion  touches 
not  the  double  plot  of  the  Carelefs  HuJlavJ ;  the  dif- 
ferent fubjefts  being  fweetly  conneded,  and  having  only 
fo  much  variety  as  to  refemble  (hades  of  colours  harmo- 
nioufly  mixed.  But  this  is  not  all.  The  uoder-plot 
ought  to  be  connected  v.-i  h  that  which  is  principal,  fo 
much  at  lead  as  to  employ  the  fame  perfons  :  the  un- 
der-plot  ought  to  occupy  the  intervals  or  paufes  of  the 
principal  a£lion  ;  and  both  ought  to  be  concluded  toge- 
ther. This  is  the  cafe  of  the  Merry  M^i^ies  of  Windfor, 
Violent  adtion  ought  never  to  be  reprefented  on  the 
ftage.  When  the  dialogue  goes  on,  a  thoufand  parti- 
culars concur  to  delude  us  ii;to  an  impreffion  of  reality; 
genuine  fentiments,  palfionate  language,  and  perfualive 
gefture  :  the  fpeQator  once  engaged,  is  willing  to  be 
deceived,  lofes  fight  of  himfelf,  and  without  fcruple 
enjoys  the  fpedtacle  as  a  reality.  From  this  abfent  ftate, 
he  is  roufed  by  a  violent  action :  he  wakes  as  from  a 
pleafing  dream,  and  gathering  his  fenfes  about  him.,  finds 
all  to  be  a  fiction,  Horace  delivers  the  fame  rule 3  and. 
founds  it  upon  the  fame  reafon: 

Ne  pueros  coram  populo  Medea  trucldet ; 
Aut  humana  palam  coquat  exta  nefarius  Atreus  ; 
Aut  in  avem  Progne  vertatur,  Cadmus  in  an^uem: 
Quodcumque  oftendis  mihi  fie,  incredulus  odi. 

The  French  critics  join  with  Horace  in  excluding  blood 
from  the  ffagej  but  overlooking  the.  moll  fubftantial 
objection,  they  urge  only  that  it  is  barbarous,  and 
fhocking  to  a  polite  audience.  The  Greeks  had  no  no. 
lion  of  luch  delicacy,  or  rather  effeminacy;  witnefs  the 
muider  of  Clyteraneftia  by  her  fon  Oreftes,  pafTmg  be- 
hind 


256  Epic  and  Dramatic       Ch  XXII. 

hind  the  fcene,  as  reprefented  by  Sophocles :  her  voice 
is  heard  calling  out  for  mercy,  bitter  expoflulations  on 
his  part,  loud  Ihrieks  upon  her  being  llabb'd,  and  then 
a  deep  filence.  I  appeal  to  every  perfon  of  feeling, 
v/hethcr  this  fcene  be  not  more  horrible,  than  if  the 
deed  had  been  committed  in  fight  of  the  fpectators  up- 
on a  fudden  guft  of  padion.  If  Corneille,  in  reprefent- 
ing  the  affair  between  Horariiis  and  his  fiirer,  upon 
which  murder  enfues  behind  the  fcene,  had  no  other 
view  but  to  remove  from  the  fpeclators  a  Ihocking  ac- 
tion, he  certainly  was  in  a  capital  miftake :  for  murder 
in  cold  blood,  which  in  fome  meafure  was  the  cafe  as 
reprefented,  is  more  fliocking  to  a  polite  audience,  even 
where  the  conclufive  rtab  is  not  feen,  than  the  fame  act 
performed  in  their  prefence,  when  it  is  occafioned  by 
violent  and  unpremeditated  pafTion,  as  fuddenly  repent- 
ed of  as  committed.  I  heaitily  agree  with  Addifon*, 
that  no  part  of  this  incident  ought  to  have  been  repre- 
fented, but  referved  for  a  narrative,  with  every  allevia- 
ting circumftance  in  favour  of  the  hero  This  is  the 
only  method  to  avoid  the  difficulties  that  unqualify  this 
incident  for  reprefentation,  a  deliberate  mii.der  on  the 
one  hand,  and  on  the  other  a  violent  action  performed 
on  the  Itage,  which  muft  roufe  the  fpectator  from  his 
dream  of  reality. 

A  few  words  upon  the  dialogue,  which  ought  to  be 
fo  conducted  as  to  be  a  true  reprefentation  of  nature. 
I  talk  not  here  of  the  fentiments,  nor  of  the  language; 
for  thefe  come  under  different  heads  :  I  talk  ot  what 
pioperly  belongs  to  dialogue-writing;  where  every  fin- 
gle  fpeech,  fhoit  or  long,  ought  to  arife  from  what  is 
laid  by  the  former  fpeaker,  and  furnifli  matter  for  what 
comes  aiter,  till  the  end  of  the  Icene.  In  that  riew, 
the  whole  fpeeches,  from  firft  to  lall,  reprefent  fo  ma- 
ny links,  all  connected  together  in  one  regular  chain. 
No  author,  antient  oi  modern,  poffeires  the  art  of  dia- 
logue  equal  to  Shakefpear.  Dryden,  in  that  particular, 
niay  juilly  be  placed  as  his  oppofite :  he  frequently  in- 
troduces three  or  four  perfons  fpeaking  upon  the  fame 

fubject, 

*  Spectator,  N«44. 


Ch.  XXII.  Compositions.  257 

fubject,  each  throwing  out  his  own  notions  feparately, 
wiihout  regarding  what  is  faid  by  he  rell ;  t-^ke  for  an- 
example  the  firit  fcene  of  j^urenzthe  :  fometinies  he 
makes  a  number  dub  in  relating  an  event,  not  to  a 
ftranger,  fuppofed  ignorant  of  it,  but  to  one  another, 
for  the  fake  merely  of  fpeaking  :  of  which  notable  fort 
of  dialogue,  we  have  a  fpecimen  in  the  fiift  fcene  of 
the  firll  part  of  the  Conqueft  of  Granada.  In  the  fe- 
cord  part  of  the  fame  tiagedy,  fcene  fecond,  the  King, 
Abenamar,  and  Zuleina,  make  their  feparate  obferva- 
rions,  like  fo  many  foliloquies,  upon  the  fluctuating 
temper  of  the  mob  :  a  dialogue  fo  uncouth,  puts  one 
in  mind  of  two  fhepherds  in  a  partoral,  excited  by  a 
prize  to  pronounce  verfes  alternately,  each  in  praife  of 
his  own  millrefs 

This  manner  of  dialogue-writing,  beiide  an  unnatu- 
ral air,  has  another  bad  effect :  it  flays  the  courfe  of  the 
tction,  becaule  it  is  not  productive  of  any  confequence. 
In  Congreve's  comedies,  the  action  is  ofteri  fufpended 
to  make  way  for  a  play  of  wit.  But  of  this  more  par- 
ticularly in  the  chapter  immediately  following. 

No  fault  is  more  common  among  writers^  than  to-- 
prolong  a  fpeech  after  the  impatience  of  the  perfon  to 
whom  it  is  addrefled  ought  to  prompt  him  or  her  to 
to  break  in.  Confider  only  how  the  impatient  ador  is 
to  behave  in  the  mean  time.  To  exprefs  his  impati- 
ence in  violent  action  without  interrupting,  would  be 
unnatural  ;  and  yet  to  diffemble  his  impatience  by  ap- 
pearing cool  where  he  ought  to  be  highly  inflamed,, 
would  be  not  lefs  fo. 

Rhyme  being  unnatural  and  difguftful  in  dialogue,  is 
happily  banifhed  from  our  theatre:  the  only  wonder  is 
that  it  ever  found  admittance,  efpecially  among  a  peo- 
ple accuftomed  to  the  more  manly  freedom  of  Shakef- 
pear's  dialogue.  By  baniOiing  rhyme,  we  have  gained 
10  much  as  never  once  to  dieam  that  there  can  be  any 
further  improvement  And  yet,  however  luitable  blank 
verle  may  be  to  elevated  characters  and  warm  paflions, 
it  muft  appear  improper  and  affected  in  the  mouths  of 
the  lowei  fort  \^hy  then  (hould  it  he  a  rule,  That, 
every  fcene  in  tiagedy  muft  be  in  blank  verfe .''  Shakef- 

pear. 


258  The  Three  Unities.       Ch.  XXIll; 

pear,  with  great  judg:nent,  has  followed  a  different 
rule  ;  which  is,  to  intermix  profe  with  veri'e,  and  only 
to  employ  the  latter  v/here  it  is  required  by  the  impor- 
tance or  dignity  of  the  fubject.  Familiar  thoughts  and 
ordinary  facts  ought  to  be  exprefTed  in  plain  language: 
to  hear  for  example  a  footman  deliver  a  fimple  meflage 
in  blank  verfe,  mud  appear  ridiculous  to  every  one  who 
is  not  bialfed  by  cuitom.  In  Oiort,  that  variety  of  cha- 
racters and  of  fituations,  which  is  the  life  of  a  play, 
requires  not  only  a  fuitablc  variety  in  the  feiitiments^. 
but  alfo  in  the  diction. 

CHAP.     XXIIL      The  three  Unities. 

TH  E  firfl:  chapter  accounts  for  the  pleafure  wr 
have  in  a  chain  of  connected  facts.  In  hiftoricu 
of  the  world,  of  a  country,  of  a  people,  this  pleafure 
is  but  faint  ;  becaufe  the  connections  are  flight  or  ob- 
fcure.  We  find  more  entertainment  in  biography,  where 
the  incidents  are  connected  by  their  relation  to  one  per- 
fon,  who  makes  a  figure,  and  commands  our  attention,  . 
But  the  greatelt  entertainment  of  the  kind,  is  in  the  hif- 
tory  of  a  fingle  event,  fuppofing  it  interefting  ;  and  the 
reafon  is,  that  the  facts  and  circumltances  are  connect* 
ed  by  the  ftrongeft  of  all  relations,  that  of  caufe  and 
effect :  a  numbei  of  facts  that  give  birth  to  each  other 
form  a  delightful  train ;  and  we  have  great  mental  en- 
joyment in  our  progrefs  from  the  beginning  to  the  end. 

But  this  fubject  merits  a  more  particular  difcuflion. 
When  we  confider  the  chain  of  caufes  and  effects  in  the 
material  world,  independent .  of  purpofe,  defign,  or 
thought,  we  find  a  number  of  incidents  in  fucceffion, 
without  beginning,  middle,  or  end  ,  every  thing  that 
happens  is,  in  different  refpects,  both  a  caufe  and  an 
effect ;  being  the  effect  of  what  goes  before,  and  the 
caufe  of  v/hat  follows :  one  incident  may  affect  us 
more,  another  leis  ;  but  all  of  them,  important  and 
trivial,  are  fo  many  links  in  the  univerfal  cham  :  the 
mind,  in  viewing  thefe  incidents,  cannot  reft  or  fettle 
ultimately  upon  any  one  j  but  is  carried  along- in  the 
train  without  any  clofe. 

But  when  the  intellectual  world  is  taken  under  view,  , 

ia  I 


Ch.  XXIII.      The  Three  Unities."  2^9 

in  conjuniStion  with  the  material,  the  fcene  is  varied, 
Man  adts  with  deliberation,  will,  and  choice  :  he  aims 
at  fome  end,  glory,  for  example,  or  riches,  or  conqueft, 
the  procuring  happinefs  to  individuals,  or  to  his  country 
in  general ;  he  propofes  means,  and  lays  plans  to  attain 
the  end  propofed.  Here  are  a  number  of  fa£ls  or  inci- 
dents leading  to  the  end  in  view,  the  whole  connected 
into  one  chain  by  the  relation  of  caufation.  In  running 
over  a  feries  of  fuch  fadls  or  incidents,  we  cannot  reft 
upon  any  one  ;  becaufe  they  are  prefented  to  us  as  menns 
only,  leading  ro  fome  end  :  but  we  reft  with  fatisfadtion 
upon  the  ultimate  event;  becaufe  there  the  purpofe  or 
aim  of  the  chief  perfon  or  perfons,  is  completed,  and 
brought  to  a  final  conclufion.  This  indicates  the  b,e- 
ginning,  the  middle,  and  the  end,  of  what  Ariftotle  calls 
an  entire  adion*.  The  ftory  naturally  begins  with  de{- 
cribing  thofe  circuniftances  which  -move  the  diftinguiih- 
ed  peifon  to  forma  plan,  in  order  to  comp^fs  fome  de- 
fued  event :  the  profecution  of  that  plan  and  the  obftruc- 
tions,  carry  the  reader  into  the  heat  of  a(Stion  :  the 
mivldle  is  properly  where  the  aflion  is  the  moft  involv«d; 
and  the  end  is  where  the  event  is  brought  about,  and 
the  plan  accomplilhed. 

A  plan  thus  happily  perfedted  after  many  obftiudlions, 
aiFords  wonde  ful  delight  to  the  reader  ;  to  produce 
which,  a  principle  mentioned  above  f  mainly  contri- 
butes, the  fame  that  difpofes  the  mind  to  complete  eve- 
ry work  commenced  and  in  general  to  Carry  every  thing 
to  its  ultimate  conclufion, 

I  have  given  the  foregoing  example  of  a  plan  crown- 
ed with  fuccefs,  becaufe  it  affords  the  cleareft  concep- 
tion of  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end,  in  which 
confifls  unity  of  action ;  and  indeed  ftrider  unity  can- 
not be  imagined  than  in  that  cafe.  But  an  adion  may 
have  unity,  or  a  beginning,  middle,  and  end,  without 
fo  intimate  a  relation  of  parts  ;  as  where  the  cataftrophe 
is  ditFerent  from  what  is  intended  or  defired  ;  which  fre- 
quently happens  in  our  beft  tragedies.  In  the  AEneid^ 
the  hero,  after  many  obftrudtions,  britgs  his  plan  to 
perfedion.   The  Iliad  is  formed  upon  a  diflfeient  model : 

it 

^  *  Poet.  cap.  6.     See  ai.o  cap.  7,  t  Chap.  8. 


26o  The  Three  Unities.      Ch.  XXIII. 

it  begins  with  the  quarrel  between  Achilles  and  Aga- 
memnon ;  goes  on  to  defcribe  the  feveral  efFefls  produ- 
ced by  that  caufe;  and  ends  in  a  reconciliation.  Here 
is  unity  of  aftion,  no  doubt,  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and 
an  end  ;  but  inferior  to  that  of  the  /Etieid :  which  will 
thus  appear.  The  mind  hath  a  propenfity  to  go  for- 
ward in  the  chain  of  hillory :  it  keeps  always  in  view 
the  expecled  event ;  and  when  the  incidents  or  under- 
parts  are  connected  to/ether  by  their  relation  to  the  e- 
vent,  the  mind  runs  fweetly  and  eafily  along  them. 
Ti)is  pleal'ure  we  have  in  the  Mneid.  It  is  not  altoge- 
ther fo  pleafant,  as  in  the  Iliad,  to  connedl  effedls  by 
their  cominon  caufe  ;  for  fuch  conneflion  forces  the 
niiiui  to  a  continual  retiofped :  looking  backward  is  like 
v/atki.ng  backward, 

Homer's  plan  is  lllll  more  defeflive,  for  another  rca- 
fon.  That  tlie  events  defcribed  are  !^ut  imperfedtly  con- 
neiSted  with  the  wrath  of  Achilles,  rheir  caufe  :  his  wrath 
did  not  exert  it'elf  in  aftion  j  and  rhe  misfortunes  of 
hlb  counrymen  v/ere  but  negatively  the  etFedts  of  his - 
wruh,  by  depriving  them  of  his  affiilance. 

If  unity  of  action  be  a  capiial  beauty  in  a  fable  imi- 
tative of  human  afFiiirs,  a  plurality  of  unconnedted  fa- 
bles mull  be  a  capital  defeiSt.  For  the  fake  of  variety, 
we  indulge  an  under-plot  i'-:at  is  connected  with  the 
principal  defect  :  but  two  unconnected  events  are  a 
great  deformity;  and  it  leiTns  the  deformity  but  a  very 
little,  to  e-gage  the  fanv.=  actors  i.i  both.  Ariofto  is 
quite  licentious  in  that  p;rticular:  he  carries  on  at  the 
fame  time  a  plurality  of  unconnected  ftories.  His  only 
excule  is,  that  his  plan  is  perfec-ly  well  adjufted  to  his 
fiibject ;  for  every  thiiig  in  the  Orlando  Furhfo  is  wild 
and  extravagant. 

Though  to  '':  le  facts  according  to  the  order  of  time 
is  natural,  yet  that  order  may  be  varied  for  the  fake  of 
confpicuous  beauties  *.  If,  for  example,  a  noted  tto- 
ry,  cold  and  fiinple  in  its  fiift  niovements,  be  made  the  • 
fubject  of  an  epic  poem,  the  reader  may  be  hurried  into  ■ 
the  heat  of  action  ;  referving  the  prelimin.aries  for  a 
converfation- piece,  if  it  fball  be  thought  neceffary  j  and 

that 


*  See  chap.  i. 


I 


Cb.  XXIII.      The  Th-ree  Unities.  6i 

that  method,  at  the  fame  time,  being  dramatic,  hatH  a 
peculiar  beauty,  which  narration  cannot  reach  *.  But 
a  privilege  that  deviates  from  nature  ought  to  be  fpa- 
ringiy  indulged  ;  and  yet  with  refpect  to  that  privilege, 
romance- writers  have  no  moderation;  they  make  no 
difficulty  of  prefenting  to  the  reader,  without  the  leaft 
preparation,  unknown  perfons  engaged  in  fome  arduous 
adventure  equally  unknown  In  Cajfandra.,  two  perfo- 
nages,  who  afterward  are  difcovered  to  be  the  heroes 
of  the  (lory,  ftart  up  completely  armed  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Euphrates,  and  engage  in  a  fingle  combat  f . 

A  play  analyfed,  is  a  chain  of  connected  fadls,  of 
which  each  fcene  makes  a  link.  Each  fcene,  accord- 
ingly, ought  to  produce  fome  incident  relative  to  the 
catailropiie  or  uuimure  event,  by  advancing  or  retarding 
it.  A  fcene  that  produceth  no  incident,  and  for  that 
reafon  may  be  termed  barren,  ought  not  to  be  indulged, 
becaufe  it  breaks  the  unity  of  adion  :  a  barren  fcene 
can  never  be  intitted  to  a  place,  becaufe  the  chain  is 
complete  without  it.  In  the  Old  Batchelor,  the  3d 
fcene  of  aft  2.  and  all  that  follow  to  the  ehd  of  that 
aft,  are  mere  converfation-pieces,  without  any  confe- 
quence.  The  loth  and  iith  fcenes,  aft  3.  Double 
Dealer,  the  loth,  1 1  th,  12th,  13th,  and  I4tb  fcenes, 
aft  I,  Loije  for  Love,  are  of  the  fame  kind.  Neither 
is  7he  ivay  of  the  IVorld eni'ne\y  guiltefs  of  fuch  fcenes. 
It  will  be  no  juftification,  that  they  help  to  difplay  cha- 
rafters:  it  weie  better,  like  Dryden  in  his  dramatis  per~ 
foride,  to  deicribe  charafters  beforehand,  which  would 
not  break  the  chain  of  aftion.  But  a  writer  of  genius 
has  no  occafion  for  fuch  artifice:  he  can  difplay  the 
charafters  of  his  perfonages  much  more  to   the  life  in 

fentiments 

*  See  chap.  21. 

t  I  am  feufible  that  a  commencement  of  this  fort  is 
much  relifhed  by  certain  readers  difpofed  to  v/onder. 
Their  curiofity  is  railed,  and  they  are  much  tickled  in 
its  gratificat'on  But  curiofity  is  at  an  end  with  the  firil 
reading,  becaufe  rhe  perlonages  are  no  longer  unknown; 
and  therefore  at  the  fecond  reading  a  commencement  fo 
artificial,  lofes  all  its  power  even  over  the  vulgar.  A^. 
writer  of  genius  loves  to  deal  in  laiiing  beauties. 


252  The  Three  Unities.      Ch.  XXIIT. 

fentiment  and  adtlon.  How  fuccefsfully  is  this  done  by. 
Shakefpear !  in  whofe  works  there  is  not  to  be  found  a 
fingle  barren  fcene. 

Upon  the  whole,  it  appears,  that  all  the  fadls  in  an 
hlftorical  fable,  ought  to  have  a  mutual  connection,  by 
their  common  relation  to  the  grand  event  or  catailrophe. 
And  this  relation,  in  which  the  unity  of  action  confifts, 
is  equally  effential  to  epic  and  dramatic  compofitions. 

In  handling  unity  of  aftion,  it  ought  not  to  efcape 
obfervation,  that  the  mind  is  fatisfied  with  (lighter  unity 
in  a  picture  than  in  a  poem  ;  becaufc  of  the  percepti- 
ons of  the  former  are  more  lively  than  the  ideas  of  the 
latter.  In  Hogarth's  Enraged  Mujtcian,  we  have  a  col- 
lection of  every  grating  found  in  nature,  without  any 
mutual  conneQion  except  that  of  place.  But  the  hor* 
ror  they  give  to  the  delicate  ear  of  an  Italian  fidler,  who 
is  reprefented  almoft  in  convulfions,  beftows  unity  up- 
on the  piece,  with  which  the  mind  is  fatisfied. 

How  far  the  unities  of  time  and  of  place  are  efTential,- 
is  a  queftion  of  greater  intiicacy.  Thefe  unities  were 
ftriCtly  obferved  in  the  Grecian  and  Roman  theatres  j 
and  they  are  inculcated  by  the  French  and  Englilh  cri- 
tics, as  eflential  to  every  dramatic  compofition.  In 
theory,  thefe  unities  are  alfo  acknowledged  by  our  beft 
poets,  though  their  practice  feldom  correfponds  :  they 
are  often  forc'd  to  take  liberties,  which  they  pretend  not 
to  jullify,  againft  the  practice  of  the  Greeks  and  Ro- 
mans, and  againft  the  folemn  decifion  of  their  own  coun- 
trymen. But  in  the  courfe  of  this  inquiry  it  will  be 
made  evident,  that  in  this  article  we  are  under  no  ne- 
celhty  to  copy  the  antients,  and  that  our  critics  are  guil- 
ty of  a  mirtake,  in  admitting  no  greater  latitude  of  place 
and  time  than  was  admitted  in  Greece  and  Rome. 

Suffer  me  only  to  premife,  that  the  unities  of  place 
and  time,  are  not,  by  the  moft  rigid  critics,  required  in 
a  narrative  poem.  In  fuch  compofition,  if  it  pretendi- 
to  copy  nature,  thefe  unities  would  be  abfurd ;  becaufe'- 
real  events  are  feldom  confined  within  narrow  limits  ei- 
ther of  place  or  of  time :  and  yet  we  can  follow  hifto- 
ry,  or  an  hiftoiical  fable,  through  all  its  changes,  with 
the  greatelT  facility  :  we  never  once  think  of  meafuring 
the  real  time  by  whrft  is  taken  in  reading  j  nor  of  form- 


Ch.  XXIII.      The  Three  Unities.  263 

ing  any  connexion  between  the  place  of  a£lion  and  that 
which  we  occupy. 

I  am  fenfible,  that  the  drama  differs  To  far  from  the  > 
epic,  as  to  admit  different  rules.  It  will  be  obferved, 
"  That  an  hiftorical  fable,  which  affords  entertainment 
**  by  reading  folely,  is  under  no  limitation  of  time  nor 
**  of  place,  more  than  a  genuine  hiflory ;  but  that  a 
*'  dramatic  compolition  cannot  be  accurately  reprefent- 
"  ed,  unlefs  it  be  limited,  as  its  reprefentation  is,  to 
*<  one  place  and  to  a  few  hours ;  and  therefore  thaf  no 
*<  fable  can  be  admitted  but  what  has  thefe  propertips, 
"  becaufe  it  would  be  abfurd  to  compofe  a  piece  for 
*<  reprefentation  that  cannot  be  juftly  reprefented." 
This  argument,  I  acknowledge,  has  at  leaft  a  plaufible 
appearance;  and  yet  one  is  apt  to  fufpedl  fome  fallacy, 
confidering  that  no  critic,  however  flridt,  has  ventured 
to  confine  the  unities  of  place  and  of  time  within  fo 
narrow  bounJs*. 

A  view  of  the  Grecian  drama,  compared  with  our 
own,  may  perhaps  relieve  us  from  this  dilemma  :  if 
they  be  differently  conftrufted.  as  fhall  be  made  evi- 
dent, it  is  poflible  that  the  foregoing  reafoning  may  not 
be  applicable  with  equal  force  to  both.  This  is  an  ar- 
ticle, that,  with  relation  to  the  prefent  fubjefl,  has  not 
been  examined  by  any  writer. 

All  authors  agree,  that  tragedy  In  Greece  was  deri- 
ved from  the  hymns  in  praife  of  Bacchus,  whicn  were 
fung  in  parts  by  a  chorus.  Thefpis,  to  relieve  the  fiig- 
ers  and  for  the  fake  of  variety,  introduced  one  aftor  • 
whofe  province  it  was  to  explain  hiftorlcally  the  fubject 
of  the  long,  and  who  occalionally  reprefented  one  or 

other 

*  Boffu,  after  obferving,  with  wonderful  critical  fa- 
gacity,  that  winter  Is  an  improper  feafon  for  an  epic 
poem,  and  night  not  lels  Improper  for  tragedy;  admits 
however,  that  an  epic  poem  may  be  fpread  through  the 
whole  fummcr  months,  and  a  tragedy  through  the  whole 
fun-fhine  hours  of  the  longeft  fummer-day.  Du  poeme 
epique,  I.  3  chap.  12.  At  that  rate  an  Englifh  tragedy 
Tn'xy  be  longer  than  a  Fiench  tragedy  ;  and  in  Nova 
Z'.mbla  the  time  of  a  tragedy  and  of  an  epic  poem  may 
be  the  fame. 


'2-54  The  Three  Unities.       Ch.  XXITI. 

other  perfonage.  Efchylus,  introducing  a  fecond  actor, 
formed  the  dialogue  ;  by  which  the  performance  became 
dramatic;  and  the  actors  were  mulciplied  when  the  fub- 
ject  reprefented  made  it  necefTary.  But  ftill,  the  cho- 
rus, which  gave  a  beginning  to  tragedy,  was  confidered 
as  an  efTential  part  of  its  conftitution.  The  firft  fcene, 
generally,  unfolds  the  preliminary  circumftances  that 
lead  to  the  grand  event ;  and  this  fcene  is  by  Ariflotle 
termed  the  prologue.  In  the  fecond  fcene,  where  the 
action  properly  begins,  the  chorus  is  introduced,  which, 
as  originally,  continues  upon  the  ftage  during  the  whole 
performance  :  the  chorus  frequently  n)ix  in  the  dialogue  j 
and  when  the  dialogue  happens  to  be  fufpended,  the 
chorus,  during  the  interval,  are  employ 'd  in  finging. 
Sophocles  adheres  to  that  plan  religioufly.  Euripides  is 
not  altogether  fo  correct.  In  fome  of  his  pieces  it  be- 
comes neceffary  to  remove  the  chorus  :  but  when  that 
unufual  ftep  is  rifked,  matters  are  fo  ordered  as  to  make 
their  abfence  but  momentary.  Nor  does  the  removal 
of  the  chorus  interrupt  the  reprefentation  :  they  never 
leave  the  ftage  of  their  own  accord,  but  at  the  com- 
mand of  fome  principal  perfonage,  who  conftantly  wait 
their  return. 

Thus  the  Grecian  drama  is  a  continued  reprefentati- 
on without  any  interruption  ;  a  circumftance  that  merits 
attention.  A  continued  reprefentation  without  a  paufe, 
affords  not  opportunity  to  vary  the  place  of  action,  nor 
to  prolong  the  time  of  the  action  beyond  that  of  the 
reprefentation.  To  a  reprefentation  fo  confined  in  place 
and  time,  the  foregoing  reafoning  is  ftrictly  applicable  : 
a  real  or  feigned  action  that  is  brought  to  a  conclufion 
after  confiderable  intervals  of  time  and  frequent  changes 
of  place,  cannot  accurately  be  copied  in  a  reprefentati- 
on that  admits  no  latitude  in  either.  Hence  it  is,  that 
the  unities  of  place  and  of  time,  were,  or  ought  to 
have  been,  ftrictly  obferved  in  the  Grecian  tragedies  ; 
which  is  made  necefTary  by  the  very  conftitution  of  their 
drama,  for  it  is  abfurd  to  compofe  a  tragedy  that  can- 
not be  juftly  reprefented. 

Modern  critics,  who  for  our  dtaiha  pretend  to  ef5:a- 
blifh  rules  founded  on  the  practice  of  the  Greeks,  are 
guilty  of  an  egregious  blunder.     The  unities  of  place- 

and 


Ch.  XXIII.      The  Three  Unities.  265 

and  of  time,  fo  much  vaunted,  were  in  Greece,  as  we 
fee,  a  matter  of  necelTity,  not  of  choice  ;    and  1    am 
now  ready  to  (hew,  that  if  we  fubinit    to  fuch  fetters, 
it  mull  be  from  choice,  not  necelFity.    This  will  be  evi- 
dent upon  taking  a  view  of  the  conllitutian  of  our  dra- 
ma, which  diifers  widely  from  that  of  Greece  ,  whether 
more  or  lefs  perfect,  is  a  difterent  point,  which  fliall  be 
handled  afterward.     By  dropping  the  chorus,  opportu- 
nity is  afforded  to  divide  the  reprefentatioii  by  mtervals 
of  time,  during  which  the  Itage  ii  totally  evacuated  and 
the  fpectacle  lufpended.    This  confticution  qualifies  our 
drama  tor  fubjects  fpread  through  a  wife  Ipace  both  of 
time  and  of  place:  the  time  fuppofed  to  pais  during  the 
fufpenfion  of  the  reprefentation,  is  not  mealured  by  the 
time  of  the  fufpenfion  :  nor  is  any  connedion  formed, 
between  the  box  we  fit  in,  and  the  place  where  things 
are  fuppofed  to  be  tranfa(5led  in  our  ablence:  by  which 
means,  many  fubjeds  can  be  juftly  reprefented  in  our 
theatres,    that   weie   excluded   from    thofe   of  antient 
Greece.     This  dodrine  may  be  illuftiated,  by  compa- 
ring a  modern  play  to  a  fet  of  hitlorical  pictures  j  let 
us  fuppofe  them  five  in  number,  and  the  refemblance 
will  be  complete:  each  of  the  pidtures  refembles  an  act 
in  one  of  our  plays:   there  inuft  neceffarily  be  the  ftrid- 
fil;  unity  of  place  and  of  tiine  in  each  picture;  and  the 
lame  neceflity  reuuircs  thcfe  two  unities  during  each  act 
of  a  play,  becauie  during  an  act  there  is  no  interrupti- 
on in  the  fpectacle.     Now, when-  we  view  in  fucceliion 
a  number  of  iuch  biftoiical  pictures,  let  it  be,  for  ex- 
anipie,  the  hiitoiy  of  Alexander  by  Le  Brun,  we  have 
no  oirf>culcy  to  conceive,  that  months  or  years  have  paf- 
led  between  the  events  exhibited  in  two  different  pic- 
tures, though  the  interruption  is  imperceptible  in  paffing 
eur  eye  tiom  the  one  to  the  other;  and  we  have  as  lit- 
tle difficulty  to  conceive  a  change  of  place,  however 
great  :  in  which  view,  there  is  truly  no  difference  be- 
tween five  acts  oi  a  modern  play,  and  five  fuch  pictures. 
Where  the  reprelentation  is  fufpencied,  we  can  with  the 
^reatelf  facility  fuppofe  any  length  of  time  or  any  change 
of  place:   the  fpectator,  it  is  true,  may  be  confcious, 
that  the  real  tune  and  place  are  not  the  fame  with  what 
are  emplo/d  in  the  reoiefentation;  but  this  is  a  work 

©t 


^66  The  Three  Unities.      Ch.  XXIII. 

of  reflection  ;  and  by  the  fame  reflection  he  may  al fo 
be  confcious,  that  Garrick  is  not  King  Lear,  that  the 
playhoufe  is  not  Dover  cliffs,  nor  the  noife  he  hears 
thunder  and  lightning.  In  a  word,  after  an  interrupti- 
on of  the  reprefentation,  it  is  not  more  difficult  for  a 
fpectator  to  imagine  a  new  place,  or  a  different  time, 
than  at  the  commencement  of  the  play,  to  imagine  hlm- 
felf  at  Rome,  or  in  a  period  of  time  two  thoufand  years 
back.  And  indeed,  it  muft  appear  ridiculous,  that  a 
critic,  who  is  willing  to  hold  candle-light  for  fun-fhine, 
and  fome  painted  canvaffes  for  a  palace  or  a  prifon, 
iiould  affect  fo  much  difficulty  in  imagining  alatitude 
of  place  or  of  time  in  the  ftory,  beyond  what  is  necef- 
fary  in  the  reprefentation. 

There  are,  I  acknowledge,  fome  effects  of  great  la- 
titude in  time  that  ought  never  to  be  indulged  in  a  com- 
Dofition  for  the  theatre  :  nothing  can  be  more  abfurd, 
than  at  the  clofe  to  exhibit  a  full-grown  perfon  who 
appears  a  child  at  the  beginning :  the  mind  rejects,  as 
contrary  to  all  probability,  fuch  latitude  of  time  as  is 
requifite  for  a  change  fo  remarkable.  The  greateft 
change  from  place  to  place  hath  not  altogether  the  fame 
bad  eftect:  in  the  bulk  of  human  affairs  place  is  not 
material;  and  the  mind,  when  occupied  with  an  inter- 
efting  event,  is  little  regardful  of  minute  circumftiances: 
thefe  may  be  varied  at  will,  becaufe  they  fcarce  make 
any  imprefllon. 

But  though  I  have  thus  taken  arms  to  refcue  modern 
poets  from  the  defponfm  of  modern  critics,  I  would  not 
be  underrtood  to  jufliify  liberty  without  any  referye.  An 
unbounded  licence  with  relation  to  place  and  time,  is 
faulty  for  a  reafon  that  feems  to  have  been  overlooked, 
that  it  feldom  fails  to  break  in  upon  the  unity  of  aftion  : 
in  the  ordinary  courfe  of  human  affairs^,  fingle  events, 
fuch  ns  are  fit  to  be  reprefented  on  the  ttage,  are  confi- 
ned to  a  narrow  fpot,  and  generally  employ  no  great 
extent  of  time :  we  accordingly  feldom  find  ilrift  unity 
of  aClion  in  a  dramatic  compolition,  where  any  remark- 
able latitude  is  indulged  in  tiiefe  particulars.  I  muft: 
fay  turther,  that  a  compofirion  which  employs  but  one 
place,  and  requires  not  a  greater  length  of  time  than  is 
neceffary  for  the  reprefentation,  is  fo  much  the  more 

perfect: 


Ch.  XXIII.      The  Three  Unities.  567 

perfeft :  becaufe  the  confining  an  event  within  fo  nar- 
row bounds,  contributes  to  the  unity  of  aftion  ;  and 
s^lfo  prevents  that  labour,  however  fl'ght,  which  the 
in'nd  muft  undergo  in  imagining  frequent  changes  of 
pl.tce  and  many  intervals  of  time  But  ftill  I  muft  infift, 
thit  fuch  h'mitation  of  place  and  tin\e  as  was  neceflary 
in  the  Grecian  drama,  is  no  rule  to  us ;  and  therefore, 
that  though  fuch  h'mitation  adds  one  beauty  more  to 
the  compofition,  it  is  at  beft  but  a  refinement,  which 
may  juftly  give  place  to  a  thoufand  beauties  more  fub- 
ftantiai.  And  I  may  add,  that  it  is  extremely  difficult, 
I  was  about  to  fay  impraclicahle,  to  contraft  within  the 
Grecian  limits,  any  fable  fo  fruitful  of  incidents  in  num- 
ber and  variety,  as  to  give  full  fcope  to  the  fluQuation 
of  paflion. 

It  may  now  appear,  that  critics  who  put  the  unities 
of  place  and  of  time  upon  the  fame  footing  with  the  u- 
nity  of  aaion,  making  them  all  equally  effen'ial,  have 
not  attended  to  the  nature  and  conftitution  of  the  mo- 
dern drama  If  they  admit  an  interrupted  reprefentation, 
with  which  no  writer  finds  fault,  it  is  plainly  abfurd  to 
condemn  its  greateft  advantage,  that  of  reprefenting 
many  intereliingfubjeas  excluded  from  the  Grecian  ftage. 
If  there  needs  muft  be  a  reformation,  why  not  relliore 
the  antient  chorus  and  the  antient  continuity  of  a£lion  ? 
There  is  certainly  no  medium:  for  to  admit  an  inter- 
ruption without  relaxing  ftoni  the  ftrict  uni  ies  of  place 
and  of  time,  is  in  effect  to  load  us  v/ith  all  the  incon- 
veniencies  of  the  antient  drama,  and  at  the  fame  time 
to  witti-hold  from  us  its  advantages. 

And  therefore  the  only  oroper  queftion  is,  Whether 
our  model  be  or  be  not  a  real  improvement  ?  This  indeed 
may  fairlv  be  called  in  quedion  ;  and  in  order  to  a  com- 
parative trial,  fome  particulars  murt  be  premifed.  When 
a  play  begins,  we  have  no  difficulty  to  adjuft  our  imagi- 
nation to  the  fcene  of  action,  however  ditlant  it  be  in 
time  or  in  place;  becaufe  we  know  that  the  play  is  a 
reprefentation  only.  Our  fituation  is  very  different  after 
we  are  engaged:  it  is  the  perfection  of  reprefentation 
to  hide  itleif,  to  impofe  upon  the  fpectator,  and  to 
produce  in  him  an  impreffion  of  reality,  as  if  he  were 

Vol-  JI-  M  fpectator 


268  The  Three  Unities.      Ch.  XXIIT. 

fpectator  of  a  real  event*  ;  but  any  interruption  anni- 
hilates that  impreffion,  by  roufing  him  out  of  his  wak- 
ing dream,  and  unhappily  reftonng  him  to  his  fenfes. 
So  difficult  it  is  to  fupport  the  impreffion  of  reality,  that 
much  (lighter  interruptions  than  the  interval  between 
tvifo  acts  are  fufficient  to  diffolve  the  charm  :  in  the  5th 
act  of  the  Mourning  Bride,  the  three  firlt  fcenes  are  in 
a  room  of  ftate,  the  fourth  in  a  prifon  ;  and  the  change 
is  operated  by  fliifting  the  fcene,  which  is  done  in  a  trice: 
but  however  quick  the  tranfition  may  be,   it  is  imprac- 
ticable to  impofe  upon  the  fpeccators  fo  as  to  make  them 
conceive  that  they  are  actually  carried  from   the  palace 
to  the  prifon :  they  immediately  reflect,  that  the  palace 
-and  prifon  are  imaginary,  and  that  the  whole  is  a  fiction. 
From  thcfe  premifies  one   will  naturally  be   led,  at 
firll  view,  to  pronounce  the  frequent  interruptions  in 
the  modern  drama  to  be  an  imperfedion.    It  will  occijr, 
*'  That  every  interruption  mull:  have  the  effedl  to  banifh 
*'  the  dream  of  reality,  and  with  it  to  banilh  our  con- 
««  cern,    which  cannot  fubfift  while   we  are  confcious 
^'   that  all  is  a  fiction  ;  and  therefore,  that  in  the  mooern 
*'  drama  fufficient  time  is  not  afforded  for  fluduation 
«'  and  fwelling  of  paffion,  like  what  is  afforded  in  that 
*'  of  Greece,  where  there  is  no  interruption."     This 
leafoning,  it  muft  be  owned,  has  a  fpecioiis  appearance  ; 
but  we  muft  not  become  faint-hearted  upon    the  firft 
repulfe  ;  let  us  rally  our  troops  for  a  fecond  engage- 
ment 

Confidering  attentively  the  antient  drama,  we.  find, 
that  though  the  reprefentation  is  never  interrupted,  the 
piincipal  acrion  is  fufpended  not  lefs  frequently  than  in 
the  modern  drama:  there  are  five  acts  in  each;  and 
the  only  difference  is,  that  in  the  former,  when  the  ac- 
tion is  fufpended  as  it  is  at  tlie  end  of  every  act,  op- 
portunity is  taken  of  the  interval  to  employ  the  chorus 
in  finging.  Hence  it  appears,  that  the  Grecian  conti- 
nuity of  repielentation  cannot  have  the  eitect  to  piolong 
the  impreifion  of  reality  :  to  banilh  that  impreliion,  a 
fulpenfion  of  the  accion  while  the  chorus  is  emplov'd  in 

finding, 


Chao,  2.  part  i.  feet.  7. 


Ch.  XXTII.       The  Three  Unities.  269 

finging,  is  not  lefs  operative  than  a  total  fufpenfion  of 
the  reprefeiitatlon. 

But  to  open  a  larger  view,  1  am  ready  to  {how,  that 
a  continued  reprefentation,  without  a  fingle  paufe  even 
in  the  principal  action,  (o  far  from  an  advantage,  would 
be  an  imperfection  ;  and  that  a  reprefentation  with  pro- 
per paufes,  is  better  qualified  for  moving  the  audience, 
and  for  making  deep  impreilions.  This  will  be  evident 
from  the  following  confiderations.  Reprefentations  can- 
not very  long  fupport  an  impreffion  of  reality;  for  when 
the  fpirits  are  exhaufted  by  clofe  attention  and  by  the 
agitation  of  pallion,  an  uneafmefs  enfues,  which  never 
fails  to  banifh  the  waking  dream.  Now  fuppofing  that 
an  act  requires  as  much  time  as  can  be  employ'd  with 
ftrict  attention  up.  n  any  incident,  a  fuppofition  that 
cannot  be  fat  from  truth  ;  it  follows,  that  the  impreflion 
of  reality  would  not  be  prolonged  beyond  the  time  of 
an  act,  even  fuppofing  a  continued  reprefentation.  If 
fo,  a  continued  reprefentation  of  longer  endurance  than 
an  act,  inftead  of  giving  fcope  to  fluctuation  and  fwell- 
ing  of  paffion,  would  overflrain  the  attention,  and  pro- 
duce a  total  abfence  of  mind.  In  this  refpeft.  the  four 
paufes  have  a  fine  effect;  for  by  atfording  to  the  audi- 
ence a  feafonable  refpite  when  the  impreflion  of  reality 
is  gone,  and  while  nothing  material  is  in  agitation,  they 
relieve  the  mind  from  its  fatigue;  and  coniequently  pre- 
vent a  wandering  of  thought  at  the  very  time  poffibly 
of  the  moft  interelling  fcenes 

In  one  article,  indeed,  the  Grecian  model  has  great- 
ly the  advantage:  its  chorus,  during  an  interval,  not 
only  preferves  alive  the  impreilions  made  upon  the  au- 
dience, but  alio  prepares  their  hearts  finely  for  new  im- 
prefllons.  In  our  theatres,  on  the  contrary,  the  audi- 
ence, at  the  end  of  every  aft,  being  left  to  trifle  time 
away,  lofe  every  v/arm  imprellion  ;  and  they  begin  the 
nexXt  a<St  cool  and  unconcerned,  as  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  reprefentation.  This  is  a  grofs  malady  in 
our  theatrical  reprefentations ;  but  a  malady  that  luckily 
is  not  incurable  :  to  revive  the  Grecian  chorus,  would 
.be  to  levive  the  Grecian  flivery  of  place  and  rime  ;  but 
I  can  figure  a  detached  chorus  coinciding  with  a  paufe 
in  the  reprefentation,  as  the  antient  chorus  did  with  a 
M  z  paufe 


27©  The  Three  Unities.      Cb.  XXIII. 

paufe  in  the  principal  adlion.  What  olijedtion,  for  ex- 
ample, can  there  lie  againft  mufic  betw.  en  the  acts,  vo- 
cal and  inftruinental,  adapted  to  the  fubject  ?  Such  de- 
tached chorus,  without  putting  us  under  any  limitation 
of  time  or  place,  would  recruit  the  fpirits,  and  would 
preferve  entire,  the  tone,  if  not  the  tide,  of  paffion  : 
the  mufic,  after  an  act,  (hould  commence,  in  the  tone 
of  the  preceding  paflion,  and  be  gradually  varied  till  it 
accord  with  the  tone  of  the  palTion  that  is  to  fucceed  in 
the  next  act.  The  niufic  and  the  reprefentation  would 
both  ot  them  be  gainers  by  their  conjunction  ;  which 
will  thus  appear.  Mufic  that  accords  with  the  prefent 
tone  of  mind,  is,  upon  that  account,  doubly  agreeable ; 
and  accordingly,  though  n)ufic  fingly  hath  not  power  to 
raife  a  paffion,  it  tends  great'y  to  i'upport  a  paffion  al- 
ready raifed.  Further,  mufic  prepares  us  for  the  paffiion 
that  follows,  by  making  cheaiful,  tender,  melancholy, 
or  animated  impreffions,  as  the  fubject  requiies  Take 
for  an  example  the  firft  fcene  of  the  Mourning  Brides 
where  foft  mufic  in  a  melancholy  llrain,  piepares  us  fine- 
ly for  Almeria's  deep  diftrefs.  In  this  manner,  mufic 
and  leprefentation  fupport  each  other  delightfully  :  the 
impreffion  made  upon  the  audience  by  reprefentation,  is 
a  fine  preparation  for  the  mufic  that  fucceeds ;  and  the 
impreffion  made  by  the  mufic,  is  a  fine  preparation  for 
the  reprefentation  that  fucceeds.  It  appears  to  me  evi- 
dent, that,  by  fome  fuch  contrivance,  the  modern  dra- 
ma may  be  improved,  fo  as  to  enjoy  the  advantage  of 
the  aatient  chorus  without  its  flavilh  limiration  of  place 
and  rime.  And  as  to  mufic  in  particular,  I  cannot  figure 
any  thing  that  would  tend  more  to  its  improvement: 
compolers,  thofe  for  the  llage  at  leaft,  would  be  redu- 
ced to  the  happy  necefiity  of  ftudying;  and  imitating  na- 
ture ;  infl:ead  of  deviating,  accoiding  to  the  piefent 
mode,  into  wild,  fnntallic,  and  unnatural  conceits.  But; 
•we  iiiuft  return  to  our  fubje^l,  and  finilh  the  compatifon^ 
between  the  ant  ent  and  the  modern  diama. 

The  numberlel.-;  improp;icties  foic'd  upon  theG  ecian 
dramatic  poets  by  the  conllitution  of  their  drama,  are 
of  themlelves,  one  fliould  think,  a  fufficient  reaion  tor 
pretening  that  ot  the  moderns,  even  abftratling  from  ihe 
VBiprovement  propofed.    To  prepare  the  reader  for  this 

article, 


Ch.  XXIII.      The  Three  Unities.  i.1i 

article,  it  muft  be  premlfed,  that  as  in  the  antient  dra- 
ma the  place  of  a£lion  never  varies,  a  place  necelFarily 
muft  be  chofen,  to  which  every  perfon  may  have  ac- 
cefs  writhout  any  improbability.  This  confines  the  fcene 
to  (bme  open  place,  generally  the  court  or  area  before 
a  palace;  which  excludes  from  the  Grecian  theatre  tranf- 
a(5lions  within  doors,  though  thefe  commonly  are  the 
moft  important.  Such  cruel  reftraint  is  of  itfelf  fuffi- 
cient  to  cramp  the  moft  pregnant  invention ;  and  ac- 
cordingly the  Grecian  writers,  in  order  to  preferve  unity 
of  place,  are  reduced  to  woful  improprieties.  In  the 
Bif>po!ytu^  of  Euripides  *,  Phedra,  diftrefled  in  mind 
and  body,  is  carried  without  any  pretext  from  her  pa- 
lace to  the  place  of  aftion  ;  is  there  laid  upon  a  couch, 
unable  to  fupport  herfelf  upon  her  limbs,  and  made  to 
ufter  many  things  improper  to  be  heard  by  a  number  of 
women  who  foim  the  chorus:  and  what  is  ftill  woife, 
her  female  attendant  ufea  the  ftrongeft  intreaties  to  make 
her  reveal  the  fecret  caufe  of  her  anguilli ;  which  at  laft 
Phedra,  contrary  to  decency  and  probability,  is  p  evailed 
upon  to  do  in  prefence  of  that  very  chorus  f.  Alceflesy 
in  Euripides,  at  the  point  of  death,  is  brought  from  the 
palace  to  the  place  of  action,  groaning,  and  lamenting 
her  untimely  fate  :];.  In  ihQfrachinitns  of  Sophocles  ||, 
a  fecret  is  imparted  to  Dijanira,  the  wife  of  Hercules, 
in  pref.^nce  of  the  chorus.  In  the  tragedy  of  Iphigenia, 
the  metfenger  empioy'd  to  inform  Clicemneftra  that  Iphi- 
genia  was  iacrificed,  ftops  (hort  at  the  place  of  aflion, 
and  with  a  loud  voice  calls  the  Queen  from  her  palace 
to  hear  the  news.  Again,  in  the  Iphige^va  irtTauris, 
the  neceftary  prefence  of  the  chorus  turces  Euripides 
in  o  a  grols  abfurdity,  which  is  to  form  a  fecret  in  their 
hearing  §;  and  to  difguife  the  abfurdity,  nmch  court- 
fhip  is  beftow'd  on  the  chorus,  not  one  woman  but  a 
number,  to  engage  them  to  fecrecy.  In  the  Medea  of 
Eur.p'des,  that  princefs  makes  no  difficulty,  in  prefence 
of  tne  choius,  to  plot  the  death  of  her  hufband,  of  his 
miftrcb,  and  of  her  father  the  King  of  Coiinth,  all  by 
poifon:  it  was  neceffary  to  biing  Medea  upon  the  ftage, 
M  3  and 


*  Att  1.  fc.  6.  t  Aa  2.  fc.  2. 

%  hO.  z.  fc.  I.         II  Aa  2,        §  Aa  4.  at  the  clofe. 


272  The  Three  Unities.      Ch.  XXIIT. 

and  there  is  but  one  place  of  aftion,  which  is  always  oc- 
cup'eJ  ly  the  chorus.  This  fcene  clofes  the  fecond  adl ; 
arid  in  the  end  of  the  third,  fte  frankly  makes  the  clio- 
TUs  her  confidents  in  plotting  the  murder  o^  her  O'.vn 
children.  Terence,  by  identity  of  place,  is  often  forc'd 
to  make  a  converfation  within  doors  be  heard  on  the  o- 
pen  ftreet:  the  cries  of  a  woman  in  labour  are  there 
heard  diftindlly. 

The  Grecian  poets  are  not  more  happy  with  refpedl 
to  time  than  with  refpe(5t  to  place.  In  the  Hippolytus 
of  Euripides,  that  prince  is  banifned  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  adt  J  and  in  the  fiift  fcene  of  the  following  a<5t, 
a  iiieffenger  relates  to  Theleus  the  whole  particulars  of 
the  dearh  of  Hippolytus  by  the  fea  monllcr  :  that  re- 
markable event  mull  have  employ'd  many  hours  ;  and 
yet  in  the  reprefentation  it  is  confined  to  the  time  em- 
ploy'd  by  the  chorus  upon  the  long  at  the  end  of  the  4th 
a(St.  The  inconfi(l;ncy  is  flill  greater  in  the  Ithigcnia 
in  Tauris  *  :  the  fong  cduIJ  not  exhauft  half  an  hour  ; 
and  yet  the  incidents  fuppofeJ  to  have  happened  during 
that  time,  could  not  naturally  be  traafaded  in  lels  than 
half  a  dVy. 

The  Grecian  artifts  are  forc'd,  not  lefs  frequently,  to 
tranfgref^  another  rule,  derived  alio  from  a  continued 
reprefentation  :  the  rule  is,  that  as  a  vacuity,  however 
momentary,  interrupts  the  reprefentation,  it  is  neceffary 
that  the  place  of  a£tion  be  conilantly  occupied.  So- 
phocles, with  regard  to  that  rule  as  well  as  to  others, 
is  generally  correal  But  Euripides  cannot  bear  fuch 
leftiaint  :  he  often  evacuates  the  lUge,  and  leaves  it 
empty  for  others  in  fucccffion.  Iphigenia  in  Tauris, 
after  pronouncing  a  Ibliloquy  in  the  hrll  fcene,  leaves 
the  place  of  action,  and  is  fucceeded  by  Orelles  and 
Pylddes  :  they,  after  foine  converfation,  walk  off;  and 
Iphigenia  re- enters,  accompanied  with  the  chorus.  In 
the  Alcejlesy  which  is  of  tne  fame  author,  the  place  of 
action  is  void  at  the  end  of  the  third  act.  It  is  true, 
that  to  cover  the  irregularity  and  to  preleive  the  repre- 
fentation in  motion,  Euripides  is  extremely  care.ul  to 
fill  the  llage   without  lofs  of  time  ;  but  this  is  fti'l_  an 

iiverrupfion, 

*  Act  5.  Ic.  4. 


Ch.  XXIII.       The  Three  Unities.  273 

interruption,  and  a  link  of  the  chain  broken  ;  for  du- 
ring the  change  of  the  actors,  there  mull  be  a  fpace  of 
time,  during  which  the  ftage  is  occupied  by  neither  fet. 
It  makes  indeed  a  more  remarkable  interruption,  to 
change  the  place  of  action  as  well  as  the  actors;  but 
that  was  not  practicable  upon  the  Grecian  ftage. 

It  is  hard  to  fay  upon  what  model  Terence  has  form- 
ed his  plays.  Having  no  chorus,  there  is  a  ceiTation  of 
the  reprefentation  at  the  end  of  every  act  :  but  advan- 
tage is  not  taken  of  the  ceflation,  even  to  vary  the  place 
ot  action  ;  for  the  Itrcet  is  always  chofen,  where  every 
thing  paffing  may  be  (een  by  every  perfon ;  and  by  that 
choice,  the  moft  fprightly  and  interelting  parts  of  the 
adion,  which  conmionly  pafs  within  doors,  are  exclu- 
ded ;  witnefs  the  lafl  aft  of  the  Eunuch.  He  hath  fub- 
mitted  to  the  like  Havery  with  refpeft  to  time.  In  a 
word,  a  play  with  a  regular  ch'-rus,  is  not  more  confi- 
ned in  place  and  time  than  his  plays  are.  Thus  a  zea- 
lous feftary  follows  implicitly  antient  forms  and  ceremo- 
nies, without  once  confidering  whether  their  introduc- 
tive  ca-ufe  be  Hill  fubfifting  Plautus,  of  a  bolder  ge- 
nius than  Terence,  makes  good  ul'e  of  the  liberty  af- 
foi-:ed  by  an  interrupted  reprefentation  :  be  varies  the 
place  of  action  upon  ail  occafions,  when  the  variation 
luits   his   purpofe. 

The  intelligent  reader  will  by  this  time  underfland, 
that  I  plead  lor  no  change  of  pi  ice  in  our  plays  buc 
aiter  an  interval,  nor  for  any  latitude  in  point  of  time 
but  what  falls  in  with  an  interval  The  unifies  of  place 
and  time  ought  to  be  ftridlly  oblerved  duiing  each  att ; 
for  duting  the  reprefenration,  theie  is  no  oppoitunitjr 
tor  the  tmalle't  deviation  from  eirher.  Hence  it  is  an 
eflintiai  requilire,  that  during  an  a6t  the  ftag  be  always 
occupied  ;  for  even  a  momentary  vacuity  lUikes  an  in- 
terval or  interruption.  Another  rule  is  not  lefs  effeuti- 
ai :  it  would  be  a  grofs  breach  of  the  unity  of  attion, 
to  exhibit  upon  the  ftage  two  feparate  adtions  at  the 
fame  time  j  and  therefore,  to  prelerve  that  unity,  it  is 
necelfary  tnat  each  perfonagc  introduced  during  an  aft, 
be  linked  to  thole  in  pofieifion  of  the  ftage,  fo  as  to 
join  all  in  one  aftion.  Th.-fe  things  fol  ow  from  the 
very  conception  of  an  aft,  which  admits  not  the  flightefl: 
M  4  inteiruption : 


874  "^HE  Three  Unities.      Ch.  XXIIf. 

interruption  :  the  moment  the  rcprefentation  is  inter- 
mitted, there  is  an  end  of  that  aft  ;  and  we  have  no 
other  notion  of  a  new  adt,  but  where,  after  a  paufe  or 
in'eival,  the  reprefentaticn  is  again  put  in  motion. 
French  writers,  generally  fpeaking,  are  extremely  cor- 
reft  in  this  particular  :  the  Englifh,  on  the  contrary, 
are  fo  iriegular  as  fcarce  to  delervc  a  criticifm  ;  aCtors 
not  only  fucceed  each  other  in  the  fame  place  without 
connexion,  but  what  is  ftill  worfe,  they  frequently 
fucceed  each  other  in  different  places.  This  change  of 
place  in  the  fame  a&,  ought  never  to  be  indulged  ;  for, 
befide  breaking  the  unity  of  the  a6l,  it  has  a  difagreea- 
ble  effeft  :  after  an  intewal,  the  imagination  readily  a-  Jj 
dapts  itfelf  to  any  place  that  is  neceflary,  juft  as  readi-  ." 
ly  as  at  the  commencement  of  the  play  ;  but  during  the 
rcprefentation,  we  reject  change  of  place  From  the 
foregoing  cenfure  mull:  be  excepted  the  Mourning  Bride 
of  Congreve,  where  regularity  concurs  with  the  beauty 
of  fentiment  and  of  language,  to  make  it  'one  of  the 
moft  complete  pieces  Eng'and  has  to  boall  of  I  mull 
acknowledge,  however,  that  in  point  of  regularity,  this 
elegant  performance  is  not  altogether  unexceptionable. 
In  the  four  firlt  ads,  the  unities  of  place  and  time  are 
flriQly  obfeived:  but  in  the  lall:  act,  there  is  a  capital 
error  with  refpect  to  unity  of  place  ;  for  in  the  three 
firft  fcenes  of  that  act,  the  place  of  action  is  a  room  of 
Hate,  which  is  changed  to  a  piifon  in  the  fourth  I'cene  : 
the  chain  alfo  of  the  actors  is  broken  ;  as  the  perfons 
introduced  in  the  prifon,  are  ditferent  from  thoi'e  who 
made  their  appearance  in  the  room  of  ttate.  This  re- 
markable interruption  of  the  rcprefentation,  makes  in 
effect  two  acts  inftead  of  one  :  and  therefore,  if  it  be 
a  rule  that  a  play  ought  not  to  confift  of  more  acts  than 
five,  this  peiformance  is  fo  far  detective  in  point  of  re- 
gularity 1  may  add,  that  even  admitting  fix  acts,  the 
irregularity  would  not  be  altogether  removed,  without 
a  longer  paufe  in  the  reprefentarion  than  is  allowed  in- 
the  acting;  for  more  than  a  momentary  interruption  is 
requilite  for  enabling  the  imagination  readily  to  tall  in 
with  a  new  place,  or  with  a  wide  fpace  of  time  In 
The  Way  of  the  M^orU,  of  the  fame  author,  unity  of 
place  is  prefeived  during  every  act,  and  a  ftricter  unitj 
of  time  during  the  whole  play  than  is  neceflary. 

C  H  A  P.^ 


€h.  XXIV.      Gardening  and,  l^c.  27^ 

CHAP.      XXIV. 
Gardening  and  Architecture, 

THE  books  we  have  upon  architecture  and  upos 
embellifliing  ground,  abound  in  practical  inftruc- 
tion,  neceffiry  for  a  mechanic:  but  in  vain  would  we 
rummage  them  for  rational  principles  to  improve  our 
tafte.  In  a  general  fyftem,  it  might  be  thought  fuffici- 
ent  to  have  unfolded  the  principles  that  govein  thefe 
and  other  fine  aits,  leaving  the  application  to  the  read- 
er: but  as  I  would  neglect  no  opportunity  of  fhowing 
the  extenfive  influence  of  thefe  principles,  the  purpofc 
of  the  prefent  chapter  is  to  apply  them  to  gardening  and 
architecture;  but  without  intending  any  regular  p'an  of 
thefe  favourite  arts,  which  would  be  unfuitable  to  the 
nature  of  this  work,  and  not  iefs  fo  to  the  inexperience 
of  its  author. 

Gardening  was  at  firftait  ufeful  art:  in  the  garden 
of  Alcinoous,  defcribed  by  Homer,  we  find  nothing 
done  for  pleafure  merely.  But  gardening  is  now  im- 
proved into  a  fine  art  ;  and  when  we  talk  of  a  garden 
without  any  epithet,  a  pleafufe-garden,  by  way  of  e- 
minence,  is  underftood  :  the  garden  of  Alcinoous,  in 
modern  language,  was  but  a  kitchen-garden.  Archi- 
tecture has  run  the  fame  courfe  :  it  continued  many 
ages  an  ufeful  art  merely,  before  it  afpired  to  be  clafled 
with  the  fine  arts.  Architecture  therefore  and  garden- 
ing muft  be  handled  in  a  twofold  view,  being  ufeful  arts 
as  well  as  fine  arts.  The  rsader  however  will  not  here 
expect  rules  for  improving  any  work  of  art  in  point  of 
utility  ;  it  being  no  part  of  my  plan  to  treat  of  any  ufe- 
ful art  as  fuch  :  but  there  is  a  beauty  in  utility  ;  and  in' 
difcourfing  of  beauty,  that  of  utility  muft  not  be  ne- 
glected. This  leads  us  to  confider  gardens  and  build- 
ings in  different  views  :  they  may  be  deftined  tor  ufe 
folely,  for  beauty  folely,  or  for  both.  Such  variety  of 
deftination,  beftows  upon  thefe  arts  a  great  command 
of  beauties,  complex  not  Iefs  than  various.  Hence  the 
difficulty  of  forming  an  accurate  tafte  in  gardening  and 
%ichitec(ure  t  sind  hence  that  difTcrence  and  wavering 
M  5  of 


276  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV; 

of  tafte  in  thefe  arts,  greater  than  in  any  art  that  has 
but  a  fipgle  deftination. 

Archi'ecture  and  g.rdening cannot  otherwife  entertain 
the  mind,  but  by  raifing  certain  agreeable  emocions  or 
feflings  ;  and  with  thefe  we  iiiulV  begin,  as  the  true 
foundation  of  all  the  rules  of  criticiHii  that  govern  thofe 
arts.  Poetry,  as  to  its  power  of  raifing  emotions,  pof- 
jfefTes  juftlv  the  firft  place  among  the  hue  arts  ;  for  fca'ce 
any  one  emotion  of  human  nature  is  beyond  its  reach, 
painting  and  fculpture  are  more  circumfcribed,  having 
the  command  of  no  emotions  but  of  what  are  produced 
by  fight  :  they  are  peculiarly  fuccefsful  in  exprefling 
painful  paflions,  which  are  difplay'd  by  external  figns 
extremely  .legible  *.  Gardening,  betide  the  emotions  of 
beauty  by  means  of  regularity,  order,  proportion,  co- 
lour, and  utility,  can  raife  emotions  of  grandeur,  of 
fweetnefs,  of  gaiety,  melancholy,  v/ildnels,  and  even 
©f  furprife  or  wonder.  In  aichitedure,  regula'ity,  or- 
der, and  proportion,  and  the  beauties  that  refult  from 
.them,  are  (till  more  confpicuoiis  than  in  gaidening  :  but 
.^s  to  the  beauty  ot  colour,  architedure  is  far  inferior. 
Grandeur  can  be  exprefled  in  a  building,  perhaps  more 
iuccefsfully  than  in  a  garden  j  but  as  to  the  other  emo- 
tions above  mentioned,  aichiteQure  hitherto  has  not 
ijeen  brought  to  the  peifettion  of  exprefTing  them  dif- 
tindtly.  To  balance  that  defedt,  architedure  can  dif- 
play  the  beauty  of  utility  in  the  highell  perfedtion. 

Gardening  indeed  polfefFes  one  advantage,  never  to 
be  equalled  in  the  other  art;  which  is,  that  it  is  capa- 
ble, ia  various  Icenes,  to  raife  fucceflively  all  the  dif- 
ferent emotions  above  mentioned.  But  to  opera  e  that 
delicious  effedt,  the  garden  muft  be  extenfive,  fo  as  to 
admit  a  flow  fucceiiion  :  for  a  fmall  garden,  compre- 
hended at  one  view,  ought  to  be  confined  to  one  ex- 
preiFiont;  it  may  be  gay,  it  may  be  Ivveet,  it  may  be 
gloomy  ;  but  an  attempt  to  mix  thefe,  would  create  a 
jumble  of  emotions  not  a  little  urjpleafant  For  the 
fame  reafon,  a  building,  even  the  moft  magnificent,  is 
neceflarily  confined  to  one  exprelTion, 

ArchiteQure,  confidereu  as  a  fine,  art,  inftead  of  ri- 


vaiins 


♦•  See  chap.  15.  t  See  chap.  8. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  277- 

vallng  gardening  In  its  progrefs  toward  perfe^ion,  f^ems 
rot  far  advanced  beyond  i's  infant  (late  To  bring  it 
to  maturity,  two  things  mainly  are  wanted.  F  it,  a  - 
greater  variety  of  parts  and  ornaments  than  at  pie'ent 
it  feems  provided  with  Gaidening  here  h,is  greatly  the 
advantage:  ii  is  provided  viith  I'uch  plenty  of  materials, 
a-^  T.0  raife  fcenes  wihout  end,  atFedbng  the  fpedaior 
with  variety  of  emonons  In  architecture,  on  the  con- 
trary, materials  are  fo  fcanty,  that  artillis  hitheitohave 
not  been  fucce'sful  in  ralfing  any  emotions  but  of  beau- 
ty and  grandeur:  with  refpett  to  the  former,  there  ara 
indeed  plenty  of  means,  regularity,  order,  (ynimetry, 
funplicity,  utility  ;  and  with  refpedt  to  the  latter,  the 
addition  of  fiV.e  is  fufficient.  Bi:t  though  it  be  evident, 
that  every  building  ought  to  have  a  ce'  tgin  ch.iaQer  or 
expreffion  fuitable  to  its  deftination  ;  yet  tins  rrfinement 
has  fcarce  been  attempted  by  ay  ariill.  A  death's 
head  and  bones  empl'>y'd  iii  monumental  buiidi-jgs,  will 
indeed  proauce  an  emotion  ot  gloom  a;id  meianchol/; 
but  every  ornament  of  that  kind,  if  thefe  can  be  term- 
ed fo,  ought  to  be  rej'Qed,  becaufe  they  are  in  them- 
felves  difagreeab'e.  Tie  other  thing  wanted  to  bring 
the  rrt  to  perrc-fton.  is,  to  alreitain  the  precife  im- 
prefllon  made  bv  every  fmgle  pa  t  a;:d  ornament,  cupo- 
laa,  Ipires,  columns,  carvinjs,  ttatues,  vales,  £ifc.  .•  foe 
in  vain  will  an  artitl  at  empt  rules  tor  employiiig  thefe, 
either  fingly  or  in  combination,  until  the  diife  ent  emo- 
tions they  produce  be  aiftinOly  explained.  Gardening 
in  that  particular  alio,  hath  the  advantage  :  the  feveral 
emotions  raifed  by  trees,  rivers,  calcades,  plai;i3,  emi- 
iiencies,  and  other  mateiials  it  employs,  are  underitood; 
and  each  emotion  can  be  defcrib„u  with  (jme  degree  of 
precilion,  which  is  done  occafionally  in  the  foregoing 
parts  of  this  v/ork. 

In  gardening  as  well  as  in  architecture,  fimplicity 
ought  to  be  the  ruling  principle.  Profufe  ornament  iiath 
no  better  effect  than  to  confound  the  eye,  and  to  pre- 
vent the  object  from  making  an  imprelHan  as  one  entire 
whole.  An  artilt  deltitute  oi^  genius  ibr  capital  beau- 
ties, is  naturally  prompted  to  fupply  the  defect  by 
crowding  his  pla;n  with  flight  embelhfhmtiits ;  hence  in 
a.  garden,  triumphal  arches,  Chinele  houfes,  temples, 

obeliiks. 


278  Gardining  AND        Ch.  XXIV.- 

obeliflcs,  calcades,  fountains  without  end  ;  and  in  a 
buikiing,  pillars,  vafes,  ftatues,  and  a  profufion  of 
carved  wood.  Thus  fome  women  devoid  of  tarte,  are 
apt  to  overcharge  every  part  of  their  drefs  with  orna- 
ment. Supeifluity  of  decoration  hath  another  bad  ef- 
fect, by  giving  the  object  a  diminutive  look:  an  ifland 
in  a  wide  extended  lake  makes  it  appear  larger ;  but  an 
artificial  lake,  which  is  always  little,  appears  ftill  left 
by  making  an  ifland  in  it*. 

In  forming  plans  for  embellifhing  a  field,  an  artifl 
without  tafte  deals  in  ftraight  lines,  circles,  fquares  ; 
becaufe  thefe  fhow  beft  upon  paper.  He  perceives  not, 
that  to  humour  and  adorn  nature  is  the  perfection  of 
his  art;  and  that  nature,  neglecting  regularity,  reach- 
cth  iuperior  beauties  hy  diftributing  her  objects  in  great 
variety  with  a  bold  hand.  A  large  field  laid  out  with 
ilrict  regularity,  is  ftifF  and  artificial.  Nature  indeed, 
in  organizfd  bodies  comprehended  under  one  view,  llu- 
dies  regularity  ;  which,  for  the  fame  reafon,  dught  to 
be  ftudied  in  architecture:  but  in  large  objects,  whicii 
cannot  otherwife  be  furveyed  but  in  parts  and  by  fuc- 
Ceffion,  regularity  and  uniformity  would  be  ufeleis  pro- 
perties,  becaufe  they  cannot  be  difcovered  by  the  eye  f . 
Nature  therefore,  in  her  large  works,  negiefts  thefe 
properties;  and  in  copying  nature,  the  artift  ought  to. 
negledt  them. 

Having  thus  far  carried  on  a  comparifon  between  gar- 
dening and  arciiitedture ;  rules  peculiar  to  each  come 
next  in  order,  beginning  with  gardening.  The  fimplell 
idea  of  a  garden,  is  that  of  a  fpot  embelliteed  with  a 
number  of  natural  objefts,, trees,  walks,  polifii'd  par- 
terres, flowers,  ftreams,  ^c.  One  more  complex  com-? 
prehends  flatues  and  buildings,  that  nature  and  art  may 
be  mutually  ornamental.  A  third,  approaching  nearer 
perfedlion,  is  of  objedts  aflembled  together  in  order  to 
produce,  not  only  an  emotion  of  beauty,  clfential  to 

every  ■ 


*  See  appendix  to  part  5.  chap.  2. 

•f.  A  iquare  field  appears  not  fuch  to  the  eye  whe,«si 
viewed  tiom  any  part  of  it  ;  and  the  centre  is  the  only 
place  where  a  circular  field  preferves.ia  appearance  in. 
regular  figure. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  279 

every  garden,  but  alfo  lonie  other  paiticul?r  emotion, 
grandeur,  for  example,  gaiety,  or  nny  other  of  thofe 
above  mentioned.  The  moft  perfect  idea  of  a  garden 
is  an  improvement  upon  the  third,  requiring  the  ieveral 
parts  to  be  fo  arranged,  as  to  infpire  all  the  ditferent 
emotions  that  can  be  raifed  by  gardening.  In  this  idea 
of  a  garden,  the  arrangement  is  an  important  circuni- 
ftance  ;  tor  it  has  been  fhown,  that  fome  emotions  fi- 
gure beft  in  conjunftion,  and  that  others  ought  always 
to  appear  in  fucceliion,  and  never  in  conjundion.  It  is 
mentioned  above*,  that  when  the  mofl:  oppofite  emoti- 
ons, fuch  as  gloominefs  and  gaiety,  ftillnefs  and  activi- 
ty, follow  each  other  in  fucceflion,  the  pleafure  on  the 
whole  v/ill  be  the  greateft  ;  but  that  fuch  emotions  ought 
not  to  be  uni^^ed,  becaufc  they  produce  an  unpleafant 
mixture  f.  For  that  reafon,  a  ruin,  affording  a  fort  of 
melancholy  pleafure,  ought  not  to  be  feen  from  a  flower 
paiterre,  which  is  gay  and  chearful.  But  to  pafs  from 
an  exhilarating  object  to  a  ruin,  has  a  fine  etfect ;  for 
each  of  the  emotions  is  the  more  fenfibly  felt  by  being 
contrafted  with  the  other.  Similar  emotions,  on  the 
other  hand,  fuch  as  gaiety  and  fwcetnefs,  flillnefs  and 
gloominefs,  motion  and  grandeur,  ought  to  be  raifed 
together ;  for  their  effects  upon  the  mind  are  greatly 
heightened  by  their  conjunction  %■ 

Kent's  method  of  embellifhing  a  field,  is  admirable  5 
which  is,  to  replenifh  it  with  beautiful  objects,  natural 
and  artificial,  dilpofed  as  upon  a  canvas  by  help  of  co- 
lours. It  requires  indeed  more  genus  to  paint  in  the 
gardening  way  :  in  forming  a  landfcape  upon  a  canvas, 
no  more  is  required  but  to  adjuft  the  figures  to  each  o- 
ther:  an  artill  who  would  form  a  garden  in  Kent's  man- 
ner, has  an  additional  tafk  ;  which  is,  to  adjuft  his  fi- 
gures to  the  feverai  varieties  of  the  field. 

A  fingle  garden  mult  be  dillinguifhed  from  a  pluralU 
ty  ;  and  yet  it  is  not  obvious  wherein  the  unity  of  a  gar- 
den confifls.  We  have  indeed  fome  notion  of  unity  in 
a  garden  furrounding  a  palace,  with  views  from  each 
window,  and  walks  leading  to  every  corner :  but  there 

may. 

*  Chap.  8.  t  Chap.  2.  part  4. 

X,  See.  the  place  immediately  above  cited.. 


28o  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV.'. 

may  be  a  girden  vviihour  a  hourei  in  which  cafe,  it  is 
the  unity  of  defign  th;it  makes  it  one  garden;  as  where 
a  fpot  of  ground  is  fo  artfully  drefled  as  to  make  the  fe- 
veral  portions  appear  to  be  parts  of  one  w^  ole.  Tie 
gardens  of  Verfiilles,  properly  cxprefT'.'d  in  the  plural 
number,  being  no  fewer  than  fixreen,  aie  indeed  all  of 
thein  coi-.nefted  with  the  palace,  but  have  fcarce  any 
mutual  connexion  :  they  appear  not  like  parts  of  one  . 
whole,  but  rather  like  fiiiall  gardens  in  contiguity.  A 
greater  diftance  between  thefe  gardens  would  produce 
a  better  efFeft:  their  jundtion  breeds  confufion  of  ideas, 
and  upon  the  whole  gives  lefs  pleafure  than  would  be 
felt  in  a  (lower  fuccefllon. 

Regularity  is  required  in  that  part  of  a  garden  which 
joins  the  dwelling-houfe  ;  for  being  conlidered  as  a  more 
immediate  acceffory,  it  ought  to  partake  the  regularity 
of  the  principal  objeft*:  but  in  proportion  to  the  dif- 
tance from  the  houfe  confidered  as  the  centre,  regula- 
rity ought  lefs  and  lefs  to  be  ftudied  ;  for  in  an  extenfive 
plan,  it  hath  a  fine  effeCl  to  lead  the  mind  infenfibly  from 

regularity 

*  The  influence  of  that  conneftionfurpallingall  bounds,  . 
is  vifible  in  many  gardens,  remaining  to  this  day,  form- 
ed of  horizontal  plains  forc'd  with  great  labour  and  ex- 
pence,  perpendicular  faces  of  earth  fupported  by  malTy 
ilone  walls,  terrace-walks  in  ftages  one  above  another, 
regular  ponds  and  canals  without  the  leart  motion,  and  i  1 
the  whole  furrounded,  like  a  prifon.with  high  walls  ex-  * 
eluding  every  external  objefl.  At  firft  view  it  may  puzzle 
one  to  account  for  a  talle  fo  oppofite  to  nature  in  every 
particular.  But  nothing  happens  without  a  caufe.  Fer- 
fedt  regularity  and  uniformity  are  required  in  a  houfe  j 
and  that  idea  is  extended  to  its  acceffory  the  garden,  e- 
fpecially  if  it  be  a  fmall  fpot  incapable  of  grandeur  or 
much  variety:  the  houfe  is  regular,  fo  muft  the  garden 
be  ;  the  floors  of  the  houfe  are  horizontal,  and  the  gar- 
den muft  have  the  fame  pofition :  in  the  houfe  we  are 
protected  from  every  intruding  eye ;  fo  muft  we  be  in  the 
garden.  This,  it  muft  be  confeffed,  is  carrying  the  no- 
tion of  refemblance  very  far  :  but  where  rcalon  and 
tafte  are  laid  afleep,  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  > 
carry  refemblance  beyond  proper  bounds. 


Ch,  XXIV.  Architfcturt.  2S1 

regularity  to  a  bold  variety.  Such  arrangerr-ent  tends  to 
make  an  iinprefllon  of  grandeur:  and  grandeur  ought  to 
be  ftudied  as  much  a-  poillble,  even  in  a  more  confined 
plan,  by  avoiding  a  n\ultiplicity  of  fmal!  parts*.  A 
fniali  garden,  on  the  otiier  hand,  which  admits  not  gran- 
deur,  ought  to  be  ftridiv  regular. 

Milton,  dcfcribing  the  garden  of  Eden,  prefers  juft- 
]y  grandeur  before  regularity  : 

Flowrers  worthy  of  paradife,  which  not  nice  art 
In  beds  and  curious  knors,  but  Nature  boon 
Pour'd  forth  profufe  on  hill,  and  dale,  and  plain  ;. 
Both  where  the  morning  fun  firft  warmly  fmote 
The  open  field,  and  where  the  unpierc'd  fhade 
Imbrown'd  the  noontide  bow'rs. 

Paradife  loji^  b.  4. 

A  hill  covered  with  trees,  appears  both  more  beau- 
tiful and  more  lofty  than  when  naked.  To  diliribute 
trees  in  a  plain  requires  more  art :  near  the  dv^'elling- 
houfe  they  ought  to  be  fcattered  fo  dirtant  from  each 
other,  as  not  to  break  the  unity  of  the  field  ;  and  eveo 
at  the  greateil  diftance  of  dirtind  vifion,  they  ought 
never  to  be  fo  crowded  as  to  hide  any  beautiful  objedt. 

In  the  manner  of  planting  a  wood  or  thicket,  much 
art  may  be  difplay'd.  A  common  centre  of  walks, 
termed  a  ftar,  from  whence  are  feen  a  number  of  re- 
markable objedts,  appears  too  artificial,  and  confequent- 
ly  too  ftiif  and  formal,  to  be  agreeable:  the  crowding 
withal  fo  manyobjedls  together,  leffens  the  pleafure  that 
v/ould  be  felt  in  a  flov/er  fuccellion-  Abandoning  there- 
fore the  ftat,  let  us  try  to  lubfliitute  fome  form  more  na- 
tural, that  will  difplay  all  the  remarkable  objects  in  the 
neighbourhood.  This  may  be  done  by  various  aper* 
tures  in  the  wood,'purpo:ely  contrived  to  lay  open  luc- 
ceflively  every  fuchobjedt;  fometimes  a  fingle  objeft, 
fometimes  a  plurality  in  a  line,  and  fometimes  a  rapid 
fucceffion  of  them :  the  m.ind  at  intervals  is  roufed  and 
cheared  by  agreeable  objeifts ;  and  the  fcene  is  greatly 
heightened  by  the  furprife  occafioned  by  ftumbling,  as  it 
were,  upon  objeQs  of  which  we  had  no  expectation. 

Attending 

*  See  chap.  4, 


282  Gardening  AND         Ch.XXIV.. 

Attending  to  the  influence  of  contraft,  explained  in 
the  eighth  chapter,  we  difcover  why  the  lownef:  of  the 
ceiling  incieafes  in  appearance  the  fize  of  a  large  room, 
and  why  a  long  room  appears  fl:ill  longer  by  being  very 
narrow,  as  is  remarkable  in  a  gallery:  by  the  fame 
means,  an  object  terminating  a  narrow  opening  in  a 
wood,  appears  at  a  double  diftance.  This  fuggefts  ano- 
ther rule  for  dirtributing  trees  in  fome  quartei  near  the 
dwelling- houfe  ;  which  is,  to  place  a  number  of  thick- 
ets in  a  line,  with  an  opening  in  each  diiecting  the  eye 
from  one  to  another;  which  will  make  them  appear  more 
dillant  fiom  each  other  than  they  are  in  reality,  and  in 
appearance  enlarge  the  fize  of  the  whole  field.  To  give 
this  plan  its  utmoft  effect,  the  fpace  between  the  thick- 
ets ought  to  be  confiderable  :  and  in  order  that  each  may 
be  feen  diftinctly,  the  opening  neareft  the  eye  ought  to 
be  wider  than  the  fecond,  the  fecond  wider  than  the  • 
third,  and  fo  on  to  the  end  *. 

By  a  judicious  diftribution  of  trees,  various  beauties 
may  be  prouuced,  far  exceeding  what  have  been  men- 
tioned j  which  will  appear  as  follows.  A  landfcape  fo 
rich  as  to  ingrofs  the  whole  attention,  and  fo  limited  as 
fweetly  to  be  comprehended  under  a  fingle  view,  has  a 
much  finer  eftect  than  tbe  moft  extenfive  landfcape  that 
requires  a  wandering  of  the  eye  through  fucceflive  fcenes, . 
This  confideration  fuggefts  a  capital  rule  in  laying  out  a 
field  ;  which  is,  never  at  any  one  ftation  to  admit  a  larg- 
er profpect  than  can  eafily  be  taken  in  at  once.  A  field 
fo  happily  fituated  as  to  command  a  great  extent  of 
profpect,  is  a  delightful  fubject  for  applying  this  rule  : 
let  the  profpect  be  fplit  into  proper  parts  by  means  of 
trees  j  lludying  at  the  fame  rime  to  introduce  all  the  va- 
riety poflible.     A  plan  of  this  kind  executed  with  tall:e 

will, 


♦  An  objefl  will  appear  more  diftant  than  it  really  is, . 
if  we  feparate  it  from  the  eye  by  lines  of  different  co- 
loured evergreens.  Suppofe  the  lines  to  be  of  holly  and 
laurel,  and  the  holly,  which  is  ot  the  deepeft  colour, 
next  the  eye:  the  degradation  of  colour  in  the  laurel, 
makes  it  appear  at  a  great  diftance  from  the  holly,  and 
confequently  removes  the  objed,  in  appearance,  to  a« 
g^reater  dillance  than  it  really  is. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.     ,  2§3 

v/il!  produce  charming  effects:  the  beautiful  profpects 
are  multiplied  :  each  of  them  is  much  more  agreeable 
than  the  entire  profpect  was  originally  :  and,  to  crown 
the  whole,  the  fcenery  is  greatly  diveififisd. 

As  gardening  is  not  an  inventive  art,  but  an  imitati- 
on of  nature,  or  rather  nature  itfelf  ornamented  ;  ft  fol- 
lows necefTarily,  that  every  thing  unnatural  ought  to  be 
rejected  with  difdain.  Statues  of  wild  beafts  vomiting 
water,  a  common  ornament  in  gardens,  prevails  in  thofe 
of  Verfailles  fs  that  ornament  in  a  good  laftc  ?  Pi  jet 
d'eau,  being  purely  artificial,  may,  without  difgurt,  be 
tortured  into  a  thoiifand  fha[)es  :  but  a  reprefentation 
of  what  really  exiils  in  nature,  admits  not  any  unnatu- 
ral circumflance.  Thefe  Raiues  therefore  of  Verfailles 
murt  be  condemned  ;  and  fo  infenfible  has  the  air<ifl:  been 
to  jutl:  imiiation,  as  to  have  difplay'd  his  vicious  tafte 
■without  the  leaft  colour  or  difguife:  a  lifelefs  ftatue  of 
an  animal  pouring  out  water,  may  be  endured  without 
mucli  difgufl  ;  but  here  the  lions  and  Vvfolves  are  put  in 
violent  aftion,  each  has  fe'zed  its  prey,  a  deej"  or  a  lamb, 
in  a6t  to  devour;  and  yet  we  know  not  by  what  hocus- 
pocus  trick,  the  whole  is  converted  into  adihferent  fcene  ; 
the  lion,  forgetting  his  prey,  pours  out  water  plentiful- 
ly; and  the  deer,  forgetting  its  danger,  performs  the 
fame  work;  a  reprefentation  not  lefs  abfurd  than  that 
in  the  opera,  where  Alexander  the  Great,  after  mount- 
ing the  wall  of  a  town  befieged,  turns  his  back  to  the 
enemy,  and  entertains  his  army  with  a  fong  *. 

In  gardening,  t\<:ry  lively  exhibition  of  what  is  beau- 
tiful in  nature  has  a  fine  efftd  :  on  the  other  hand,  di. 
ftart  and  faint  imitations  are  difpleafing  to  every  one  of 
tafte.     The  cutting  evergreens  in  the  Ihape  of  animals. 


IS 


*  Ullca,  a  Spai.i/]i  w  riter,  defcribing  the  cify  of  Lima, 
fays,  that  the  great  fquaie  is  finely  ornamented.  •'  In 
"  the  centre  is  a  fountain,  equally  remarkable  for  its 
"  grandeur  and  capacity.  Railed  above  the  fountain  is 
*'  a  bronze  llatue  o!  Fame,  and  tour  fmall  bafons  on 
*'  the  angles.  The  water  iffues  from  the  trumpet  of 
*'  the  ffatue,  and  from  the  mouths  of  eight  lions  fur- 
*«  rounding  it,  v\  hich  (In  his  opinion)  greatly  heighten 
'•  the  beauty  of  the  wnole." 


284  Gardening  and        Ch.  XXIV. 

is  very  antientj  as  aopears  from  the  epi<lles  of  Plinv, 
who  feems  to  be  a  ^rear  admirer  of  the  conceit  The 
propenfiry  to  imitation  gave  birth  to  tha^  prr^dtice ;  and 
has  fuDported  it  wonderfully  long,  confidering  how  faint 
and  infipid  the  imitation  is.  Bi;t  the  vulgar,  great  and 
fmall,  devoid  of  tafte,  are  entertained  with  the  oddnefs 
and  Angularity  of  a  refemblance,  however  diftant,  be- 
tween a  tree  and  an  animal.  An  attempt  in  the  gardens 
of  Verfailles  to  imitate  a  grove  of  trees  bv  a  group  of 
jets  (TeaUy  appear^,  for  the  fame  reafon,  not  lefs  childifh. 

In  defigning  a  garden,  everv  thing  trivial  or  whimfi- 
cal  ought  to  be  avoided.  Is  a  labyrinth  then  to  be  juf- 
tified  ?  If  is  a  mere  conceit,  like  that  of  composing  ver- 
fes  in  the  Ihape  of  an  axe  or  an  egg:  the  walks  and 
hedges  may  be  agreeable;  but  in  the  form  of  a  laby- 
rinth, they  ferve  to  no  end  but  to  puzzle  ;  a  riddle  is  a 
conceit  not  fo  mean;  becaufe  the  folution  is  proof  of 
fagac'ty,   which  affords  no  aid  in  tracing  a  labyrinth. 

The  gardens  of  \^erfailles,  executed  with  infinite  ex- 
pence  by  the  bell  arrifts  that  could  be  found,  are  a  laft- 
ing  monument  of  a  taf^e  the  mofl  depraved:  the  faults 
above  mentioned,  inftfad  of  being  avoided,  f^re  chofen 
as  beaii'ies,  and  multiplied  without  end  Niture,  it 
would  feem,  was  deemed  too  vulgar  to  be  imitated  in 
the  works  of  a  magnificent  monarch  ;  at^d  for  that  rea- 
fon prcference^^  was  given  to  things  unnatural,  which 
probably  were  mirtaken  for  fuperna rural.  I  have  often 
amufed  myfelf  with  a  fanciful  refemblance  between  thete 
gardens  and  the  Arabian  tales:  each  of  them  Is  a  per- 
formance intended  for  the  amufement  of  a  g'eat  king: 
in  the  iixreen  gardens  of  Verfailles  there  i^  no  unity  of 
defign,  more  than  in  the  thouland  and  one  Arabian  tales  : 
and,  lallly,  they  are  equally  unna'ural  ;  groves  o^  jets 
cCeaii.  ftatues  of  animals  converfing  in  the  manner  of 
7Er)p,  water  KFuIfig  out  of  the  mouths  of  wild  beafts, 
give  an  imprelfion  of  fairy-land  anJ  wi.chcrafr,  not  lefs 
than  diamond- palaces,  invlfible  rings,  fpells  and  incan- 
tations. 

A  llralght  road  Is  the  moft  agreeable,  becaufe  it  fliort- 
ens  the  journey.  But  in  an  embellifljed  field,  a  ftraight 
walk  has  an  air  of  formality  and  confinement  :  and  at 
any  rate  is  lefs  agreeable  than  a  winding  or  waving  walk; 

for 


Gh.  XXIV.  Architecture.  285 

for  in  furveying  the  beauties  of  an  ornamented  field,  we 
love  to  roam  from  place  to  place  at  freedom.  Winding 
walks  have  another  advantage:  ar  every  ftep  they  open 
new  views.  In  (hort,  the  walks  in  pleafure  ground 
ought  not  to  have  any  appearance  of  a  road  :  my  in- 
tention is  not  to  make  a  journey,  but  to  teaft  niy  eye 
upon  the  beauties  of  art  and  nature.  This  ru'e  excludes 
not  openinas  direding  the  eve  to  didant  objefts.  Such 
openings,  befide  variety,  are  agreeable  in  various  ref- 
pects :  firfl,  as  obferved  above,  they  extend  in  appear- 
ance the  fize  of  the  field  :  next,  an  objeft,  at  whatever 
diftance,  continues  the  ope;iing,  and  deludes  the  fpedta- 
tor  into  a  convidlion,  that  the  trees  which  confine  the 
view  are  continued  till  they  join  the  ohje«£t.  Straight 
walks  alfo  in  receifes  do  extremely  well:  they  vary  the 
fcenery,  and  aie  favourable  to  meditation. 

Avoid  a  Itrafght  avenue  directed  upon  a  dwelling- 
houle  :  better  tar  an  obliqu'-e  approach  in  a  waving  line, 
with  fingle  trees  and  othtr  fcattered  ubjecSts  interpofed. 
In  a  diiedt  appioach,  the  firil  appearance  continues  the 
fame  to  theend:  we  fee  a  houfe  at  a  diftance,  and  we 
fee  it  all  altmg  in  the  fame  fpot  without  any  variety.  In 
an  oblique  approach,  the  interpofed  objetts  put  the 
houfc  feemingly  in  motion;  it  moves  with  the  pafTenger, 
and  anpeais  to  dirett  its  courfe  fo  as  hofpitably  to  in- 
tercept him  An  oblique  approacli  contributes  alfo  to 
Va.icty:  the  hou'e,  being  fei.n  fuccelhvelv  in  different 
diredions,   takes  on  at  each  llep  a  new  figure 

A  garden  on  a  flit  ought  to  be  highly  aiid  vaiioufly 
oinamented,  in  order  to  .yCcwpy  the  inind,  and  prevent 
our  regretting  the  i;;fipidiry  of  an  uniform  plain.  Arti- 
ficicil  mounts  in  that  view  aie  common  :  but  no  perfon 
has  thouohr  of  an  artificial  walk  elevated  high  above  the 
plain.  Such  a  walk  is  airy,  and  tends  to  eievate  the 
-mii;d  :  it  extends  and  va.ies  the  profpeft:  and  it  makes 
the  plain,  {ten  from  a  height,  appfur  more  agreeable. 

Whether  fhould  a  ruin  be  in  t'le  Gothic  or  Grecian 
form  .?  In  the  former,  1  think  ;  bccaufe  it  exhibits  the 
triumph  of  time  over  ftrengtti;  a  melancholy,  but  not 
unpleafunt  thought:  a  Grecian  ruin  fuggells  rather  the 
triumph  of  batbuiay  over  talle  ;  a  gloomy  and  .^rtcou-' 
raging  thought. 

There 


286  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV, 

There  are  not  many  fountains  in  a  ^ood  talte.  Sta- 
tues of  animals  voaiiting  water,  which  prevail  every 
where,  ftand  condemned  as  unnatural.  A  llatue  of  a 
whale  fpouting  water  upward  from  its  head,  is  in  one 
fenfe  natural,  as  whales  of  a  certain  fpecies  have  that 
power;  but  it  is  a  fufficient  objection,  that  its  fingula- 
rity  would  make  it  appear  unnatural:  thv'.e  is  another 
reafon  againll  it,  that  the  fi:{ure  of  a  whale  is  in  itfelf 
not  agreeable.  In  many  Roman  fountains,  ftatues  of 
fiflies  are  employ'd  ro  lupport  a  large  bafon  of  water. 
This  unnatural  conceit  is  not  accountable,  u,,lefs  from 
the  connexion  that  water  hith  with  the  fifh  that  fwiin 
in  it  ;  which  by  the  way  fliows  the  influence  of  even 
the  (lighter  reluions.  The  bell  delign  tor  a  fountain  I 
have  met  with,  is  what  follows.  In  an  artificial  lOck, 
rugged  and  abrupt,  the-e  is  a  cavity  out  of  fight  at  the 
top  :  the  water,  convey 'd  to  it  by  a  p'pe,  pours  or 
trickles  down  the  broken  parts  of  the  rock,  and  is  col- 
le£ted  into  a  bafon  at  the  foot:  it  is  fo  contrived,  as  to 
make  the  v/ater  fall  in  fheets  or  in  rills  ar  p  e^fure. 

Hirherto  a  garden  has  been  treated  as  a  work  intend- 
ed loltly  for  pleafure,  or,  in  other  words,  for  giving 
impreffions  of  intiinfic  beauty.  What  comes  next  in 
order  is  the  beauty  of  a  garden  dellined  for  ufe,  termed 
relati've  beauty  *  j  and  this  branch  ihall  be  difpatched 
in  a  ^t^N  words.  In  gardening,  luckily,  relative  beauty 
need  never  ftand  in  oppofition  to  intnnfic  beauty  :  all  the 
ground  that  can  be  requifite  for  ule,  makes  but  a  (mall 
proportion  of  an  ornamei.ted  held;  and  may  be  put  in 
any  corner  without  obftrutting  the  difpofiti  m  of  the  ca- 
pital parts.  At  the  lame  time,  a  kitcnen-garden  or  an 
orchard  is  fufceptib'e  of  intrir.fic  beauty  ;  and  may  be 
fo  arti'ul'y  di'pofed  among  the  otMC-^  pars,  as  by  varie- 
ty and  contrail  to  contribute  to  the  beauty  ot  the  whoie. 
In  this  refpett,  architetliire  is  far  more  intricate,  as  will 
be  feen  immediately  ;  for  as  intrinfic  and  relative  beau- 
ty mull  oiten  be  blended  in  the  fame  building,  it  be- 
comes a  difficult  tafk  to  attain  both  in  any  perfection. 

In  a  hot  cnuntry,  it  is  a  capital  objefl  to  have  what 
may   be   term'd  a  fufumer-gurden,  that   is,  a  fpace  of 

ground 


*  See  thefe  terms  defined,  chap.  3. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  287 

ground  difpofed  by  art  and  by  nature  to  exclude  the  fun, 
but  to  give  free  accefs  to  the  air.     In  a  cold  country, 
tfie  capital  object  ihould   be  a  ivinter  garden,  open  to 
the  fun,  fheltered  from  wind,  dry  under  foot,  and  hav- 
ing the  appearance  of  fummer  by  variety  of  evergreens. 
The  relilh  of  a  country  life  is  totally  extinguifhed   in 
Fiance,  and  is  decaying  fa",  in  Biitain      But  as  flill  ma- 
ny people  of  faftiion,  aid  fome  of  tafte,  pafs   the  win- 
ter, or  part  of  it,  in  the  country,  it  is  amazing  that 
winter-gardens  fhould  be  almoft  totally  overlooked.    Du- 
ring fummer  every  field  is  a  garden  ;  but  for  fix  months 
of  the  year  the  weather  is  feldom  fo  good  in  Britain  »s 
to  afford  comfort  in   the   open  air  without  flielter,  and 
yet  leldom  fo  bad  as  not  to  afford  comfort  with  fhelter. 
I  fay  more,  that  befide  providing  fo^  exercife  and  health, 
a  winter  garden  may  be  made  fubfeivient  to  education, 
by   introducing  a  habit  of  thinking.     In  youth,  lively 
fpirits  give  too  great  a  propenfity  to  pleafure  and  amufe- 
ment,   making  us  averfe  to  ferious  occupation.     That 
untoward   bias  may  be  coriefled  in  fome  degree  by  a 
winter  garden,  which   produces  in  the  mind   a  calm  fa- 
tisfaflion,  free  from  agitation   of  pafTion,   whether  gay 
or  gloomy  J  a  fine  tone  of  mind  for  meditat.on  and  rea- 
foning  *. 

Gardening 

*  A  corrpfpondent,  whofe  name  I  c  tnceal  that  I  may 
not  be  thought  vain,  writes  10  me  as  follows.  "  In  lif^e 
••'  we  generally  by  our  account  with  profperity,  and  fel- 
*'  dom,  very  fe'd  .im,  prepan.-  for  adverfity  VV'e  carry 
*'  that  propenfitv  even  into  the  (irudure  of  our  ga'"dens  ; 
*'  we  cultivate  the  gay  "ornaments  of  fimime'-,  relilhing 
"  no  plants  but  what  flourifh  by  mild  dews  and  gracious 
<'  funfnine:  webanifh  froin  our  thoughts  ghaftly  winter, 
**  when  the  benign  influsnces  of  the  lun  chea  ing  us  no 
*•  more,  are  douSily  regretted  by  yielding  to  the  pi^r- 
«'  cing  northwind  and  nipping  froih  Sage  is  the  gar- 
«*  dener,  in  the  metaphoiical  as  well  as  literal  fenfe, 
"  who  procures  a  friendly  Ihelter  to  prorett  us  fiom  De- 
•'  cember  ftorms,  and  cultivates  the  pl.mts  that  adorn 
"  and  enliven  that  dreary  feafon.  He  is  no  pbilofopher 
"  w'uo  cannot  retiie  into   the  Stoic's  walk,  when   the 

"  gardens 


288  Gardenfng  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

Gardening  being  in  China  brought  to  greater  perfec- 
tion than  in  any  other  k-noun  country,  v/e  /hall  ciofe  our 
prefent  fubjeft  with  a  flight  view  of  Chinefe  garden?, 
which  are   found  entirely  obfequious   to  the  principles 
that  govern  every  one  of  the  fine  arts      In  general,  it 
is  an  im'.ilpenfable  law  there,  never  to  deviate  from  na- 
ture: but   in  order  to  produce   that  degree  of  variety 
which  is  plenfiiig,   every  method  confident  with  nature 
is  put  in   praiflice.      Nature  is   ftridly  imitated  in   the 
banks  ot  their  aitincial  lakes  and  rivers  ;  which  fome- 
times  are  bare  and   giavelly.  fometimes  covered  v/ith 
wood  quite  ro  the  brinlt  of  the  water.      To  flat  fpots  a- 
dorned  with  flowers  and  fliruby,  are  oppofeu  others  fleep 
ard  rocky.    V/e  fee  meadows  covered  with  cattle;  rice- 
,giounds   that  run   into  lakes  ;  proves  into  which  enter 
navigable  creeks   and   rivulets  :  tbcfe  generally  condu<5t 
to  lome  inteiefliing  object,  a  magnificent  building,   ter- 
races cut  in  a  mountain,  a  cafcade,  a  grotto,  an  artifi- 
cial rock,  or  fuch  like.     Their   artificial  rivers  are  ge- 
nerally lerpentine  ;    fometimes   narrow,  noify,  and   ra- 
pid ;  iomc times  ceep,  broad,  and  flow  :  and  to  make 
the  fcene  ftill  more  a(5iive,  mills  and  other  moving  ma- 
chines are  often  ercfted       In  the  lakes  are  interfperfed 
iflands  ;  fome  barren,  furrounded  with  rocks  and  Ihoals ; 
others  enriched  with  every  thing  that  art  and  nature  can 
furniili      Kven  in  their  cafcades  ihey  avoid  regularity, 
a?  torcrng  nature  out  of  its  comfe:    the  waters  are  (een 
burftiiit;  from  the  caverns  and  windings  of  the  artificial 
rocks,  here  an    impetuous    cataiad,   there    many   leirer 
falls  ;   and  the  itrtam  ot(en  impeded  by  trees  and  flories, 
that  feem  brought  down  by  the  vio'ence  of  the  current. 
Straight  lines  aie  'omeiimes  indulged,  in  order   to  take 
the  advantage   oi    lome  interefting  objetl  at  a  dillance, 
by  direding  opcniiu^s  upon  it. 

Senfib  e  ot  the  influence  of  contraft,  the  Chinefe  ar- 
tifts  dcil  in  lud'  en  tiunfiiions,  and  in  oppufing  io  each 
oiher,  lorms,  colours,  and  fli;ides.    Th^  eye  is  cenduct- 

ed, 

"  gardens  of  Epicurus  are  out  ot  oio  )m  :  he  is  too 
*<■  uiuch  a  philulopher  wno  will  iigi>^ly  prolcrjbe  :he 
i'  fljwe.s  anvl  ii.juiarics  of  lummcr,  to  lit  con ianuy 
*'  unuer  ihc  cypiefs  fliade." 


Ch.  XXIV.  Arciiitectltre.  2S9 

ed,  from  limited  to  extenfive  views,  and  from  lakes  and 
rivers  to  plains,  hills,  and  woods :  to  dark  and  gloomy 
colours,  are  oppofed  the  more  brillimt  :  the  ditferent 
mafles  of  light  and  fhaie  are  diipofed  in  fuch  a  manner, 
as  to  render  the  compofuion  diltinct  in  its  parts,  and 
ftriking  on  the  whole.  In  plantations,  the  trees  are 
artfully  mixed  according  to  their  /hape  and  colour;  thofe 
of  fpreading  branches  with  the  pyramidal,  and  the  light 
green  with  the  deep  green.  They  even  introduce  de- 
cay'd  trees, foTie  erect,  and  fome  half  out  of  the  ground*. 
In  order  to  heighten  contrafl.  much  bolder  ftrokes  are 
rifked :  they  fometimes  introduce  rough  rock  ,  dark  ca- 
verns, trees  ill  forme  J,  and  feemingly  .ent  by  tempefts, 
or  blafled  by  lightening;  a  building  in  ruins,  or  half 
confumed  by  fiie.  But  to  relieve  the  mind  fron  the 
har/hnefs  of  fuch  objects,  the  fweetetl  and  moll  beau- 
tiful fcenes  are  always  made  to  fucceed. 

The  Chinefe  ftudy  to  give  play  to  the  imagination  : 
they  hide  the  termination  of  their  lakes ;  and  common- 
ly interrupt  the  v'C^v  of  a  cafcade  by  trees,  through 
which  are  feen  obfcurely  the  waters  as  t'nriy  fall.  •  The 
imagination  once  roufed,  is  difpofed  to  magnify  every 
object. 

Nothing  Is  more  ftudied  in  Chinefe  gardens  than  to 
raife  wonder  or  furpriie  In  fcenes  calculated  for  that 
end,  every  thing  appears  like  fairy-land  ;  a  torrent,  for 
example,  convev'd  under  ground,  puzzling  a  (hanger  by 
its  uncommon  found  to  guefs  what  it  may  be;  and,  to 
multiply  fuch  uncommon  founds,  the  rocks  and  build- 
ings are  contrived  with  cavities  and  interllices.  Some- 
times one  is  led  infenfibly  into  a  dark  cavern,  termina- 
ting unexpectedly  in  a  landlcape  enriched  with  all  that 
nature  affords  the  moft  de'icious.  At  other  times,  beau- 
tiful walks  inienfiblv  conduct  us  to  a  rough  uncultiva- 
ted field,  where  buihes,  briers  and  flones  inteiiupt  the 
palfage  :  looking  about  ibr  an  outlet,  fome  rich  prof- 

pect 


.       *  Talle  has  fuggefted  to  Kent  the  fame  artifice     The 

ir;(placing  a  decay'd  crsc  propeiiy,  contributes  to  conttatl; 

and  aifo  in  a  pcnfive  or  feciate  lla'e  of  mind   produces 

a  fort  oi  pity,  grounded  on  an  imaginary  perfonifica- 


tion. 


igo  'Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

peft  unexpefledly  open  to  view.  Another  artifice  is, 
to  obfcure  fonie  capital  pnrt  by  trees  or  other  interpo- 
fed  objedts:  our  curiofuy  is  railed  to  know  what  lies 
beyond;  and  after  a  few  (leps,  we  are  greatly  furprifed 
with  fomc  fcene  totally  different  from  what  was-  ex- 
petted. 

Thefe  cuiTory  obfervations  upon  gardening,  fhall  be 
clofcd  witii  fome  refleflions  that  inuft  touch  every  read- 
er, Ro'gh  uncultivated  ground,  difmal  to  the  eye,  in- 
fpires  peeviflinefs  and  difcontent  :  nvay  not  this  be  one 
caufe  of  the  hr\r(h  manners  of  favages  ?  A  field  richly 
ornamented,  containing  beautiful  ohjefts  of  various 
kinds,  difplays  in  full  luftre  the  goodnefs  of  the  Deity, 
and  the  ample  provifion  he  has  made  for  our  hap[  inefs; 
which  mufl;  fill  every  fpeflator  with  gratitude  to  his 
Msker,  and  with  benevolence  to  his  fellow- creatures. 
Other  fine  arts  may  be  perverted  to  excite  irregular,  and 
even  vicious,  emotions:  but  gardening,  which  infpires 
the  pureft  and  ir.oft  refined  pleafures,  cannot  fail  to 
promote  every  good  affedtion.  The  gaiety  and  harmo- 
ny of  mind  it  produceth,  inclining  the  fpe£tator  to  com- 
municate his  fatistaftion  to  others,  and  to  make  them 
happy  as  he  is  himfelt,  tend  naturally  to  eilablilh  in  him 
a  habit  of  humanity  and  benevolence  *. 

It  is  not  eafy  to  lupprefs  a  certain  degree  of  enthufi- 
afm  when  we  rcfled  upon  the  advantages  of  gardening 
with  refpedt  to  virtuous  educntion.  In  early  youth  the 
deepeft  impreflions  are  made  ;  and  it  is  a  fad  truth,  that 
the  young  ftudent  familiarized  to  the  dircinefs  and  dif- 
order  of  many  colleges  pent  within  narrow  bounds  in 
populous  cities,  is  rendered  in  a  meafure  infenlible  to 
the  elegant  beauties  of  art  and  nature.  Would  not  e- 
veiy  great  man  who  loves  his  country,  and  wifhes  his 
countrymen  to  make  a  figure,  be  zealous  to  reform  this 

evil.' 

*  The  maiiufae^ufes  of  filk,  fiax,  and  cotton,  in  their 
prefent  advance  toward  perfection,  may  be  held  as  infe- 
rior branches  of  the  fine  arts  ;  becaufe  their  producti- 
ons in  drels  and  in  rurniture  are  beautiful  like  thofe  of 
the  fine  arts,  and  infpire  gay  and  kindly  emotions  favour- 
able to  morahty.  fmiilar  to  what  are  infpired  by  a  gaiden 
or  other  production  of  the  fine  arts. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  291 

evil  ?  It  feems  to  me  far  from  an  exaggeration,  that 
good  profeiTors  are  not  more  eflential  to  a  college,  than 
a  fpacious  garden  fweetly  ornaniented,  but  without  any 
thing  glaring  or  bizarre,  fo  as  upon  the  whole  to  infpire 
our  youth  with  a  taRe  not  lefs  for  fimplicity  than  foe 
elegance.  In  that  refpect,  the  univerfity  of  Oxford 
may  juftly  be  deemed  a  model. 

Having  finiflied  what  occurred  on  gardening,  I  pro- 
ceed to  rules  and  obfervations  that  more  pecuHarly  con- 
cern architecture.  Architecture,  being  an  ufeful  as  well 
as  a  fine  art,  leads  us  to  diftinguifh  buildings  and  parts 
of  buildings  into  three  kinds,  <viz.  what  are  intended 
for  utility  folely,  what  for  ornament  folely,  and  what 
for  both.  Buildings  intended  for  utility  folely,  fuch  as 
detached  offices,  ought  in  every  part  to  correfpond  pre- 
clfely  to  that  intention  :  the  flighteft  deviation  from  the 
end  in  view,  will  by  every  perfon  of  tafte  be  thought 
a  defect  or  blemllh.  In  general,  it  is  the  perfection  of 
every  work  of  art,  that  it  fulfills  the  purpofe  for  which 
it  is  intended  ;  and  every  other  beauty,  in  oppofition» 
is  neglected  as  improper.  In  things  again  intended  for 
ornament,  fuch  as  pillars,  obeliflcs,  triumphal  arches, 
beauty  folely  ought  to  be  regarded  :  a  Heathen  temple 
mull  be  confidered  as  .merely  ornamental ;  for  being  de- 
dicated to  fome  deity,  and  not  intended  for  habitation, 
it  IS  fufceptible  of  any  figure  and  any  embelliftment  that 
fancy  can  fuggeft  and  beauty  require.  The  great  diffi- 
culty of  contrivance,  refpects  buildings  that  are  intend- 
ed to  be  ufeful  as  well  as  ornamental,  Thefe  ends,  em- 
ploying different  and  often  oppofite  means,  are  feldoin 
united  in  perfection  ;  and  the  only  practicable  method 
in  fuch  buildings  is,  to  favour  or  neglect  ornament  ac- 
cording to  the  character  of  the  building  :  in  palaces, 
and  other  edifices  fufficiently  extenfive  to  admit  a  variety 
ot  ufeful  contrivance,  regularity  juftly  takes  the  lead; 
but  in  dwelling  houfes  that  are  too  fmall  for  variety  of 
contrivance,  utility  ought  to  prevail,  neglefting  regula- 
rity fo  tar  as  it  ftands  in  oppofition  to  convenience* 

■    ^°^-    "  N Intrinfic 

*_A  building  mult  be  huge  to  produce  any  fenfible  e- 
motion  of  regularity,  proportion,  or  beauty  ;  wiiich  is 
an  additional  reafon  for  minding  convenience  only  in  a 
dwelling-houfe  of  fmall  fize. 


292  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

Intrinfic  and  relative  beauty  being  founded  on  diiTer- 
ent  principles,  mufl  be  handled  feparatelyj  and  I  begin 
with  relative  beauty,  as  of  the  greater  importance. 

The  proportions  of  a,  door,  are  determined  by  the 
ufe  to  which  it  is  dcft^n'd.  The  door  of  a  dwelling- 
houfe,  which  ought  to  correfpond  to  the  human  fize, 
is  confined  to  feven  or  eight  feet  in  height,  and  three  or  . 
four  in  breadth.  The  proportions  proper  for  the  door 
of  a  barn  or  coach-houfe,  are  widely  different.  Another 
confideration  enters  :  to  ftudy  intrinfic  beftuty  in  a  coach- 
houfe  or  barn,  intended  merely  for  ufe,  is  obvioufly  im- 
proper. But  a  dvvelling-houfe  may  admit  ornaments.; 
and  the  principal  doors  of  a  palace  demands  all  the 
grandeur  that  is  confident  with  the  foregoing  proportions 
dictated  by  utility:  it  ought  to  be  elevated,  and  ap- 
proached by  fteps  ;  and  it  may  be  adorned  with  pillars 
iiipporting  an  architrave,  or  in  any  other  beautiful  man- 
ner. The  door  of  a  church  ought  to  be  wide,  in  order 
to  afford  an  eafy  paffage  for  a  multitude  :  the  widenefs, 
at  the  fame  time,  regulates  the  height,  as  will  appear 
by  and  by.  The  fize  of  windows  ought  to  be  propor- 
tioned to  that  of  the  room  they  illuminate  j  for  if  the 
apertures  be  not  fufficiently  large  to  convey  light  to  e- 
very  corner,  the  room  is  unequally  lighted,  which  is  a 
great  deformity.  Steps  of  ftairs  ought  to  be  accommo- 
dated to  the  human  figure,  without  regarding  any  other  ; 
proportion  :  thefe  tteps  accordingly  aie  the  fame  in  large  -,  ; 
and  in  fmall  buildings,  becaufe  both  are.  inhabited  by 
jnen  of  the  fame  fize. 

1  proceed   to  confider  intrinfic  beauty  blended  v/ith 
that  which  is  relative.    Though  a  cube  in  itielf  be  more 
agreeable  than  a  parailelopipedon,  yet  a  large  building    • 
in    the  form  of   a  cube,  appears  lumpifli  and  heavy; 
whereas  the  other  figure,  fet  on  its  fmaller  bafe,  is  by 
its  elevation  more  agreeable,  and  hence  the  beauty  of  a 
Gothic  tower.     But  fiippofing  that  a  parailelopipedon  is  ^^ 
deftin'd  for  a  dvveliinghoufe,  to  make  way  for  relative';^ 
beauty,  we  inniiediately  perceive  that  utility  ought  chief- 
ly to  be  regarded,  and  that  this  figure,  inconvenient  by 
its  height,  ought  to  be  fet  upon  its  larger  height  ;  the 
loftiiiefs  is  gone;  but  that  lofs  is  more  than  compenla- 
tcd  by  additional  convenience;  and  for  that  reafon  the 

form 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  293 

form  of  a  building  fpread  more  upon  the  ground  than 
raifed  in  height,  is  always  preferred  for  a  dwellJng-houfe, 
without  excepting  even  the  moll  fuperb   palace. 

With  refpedt  to  the  divihons  within,  utility  requires 
that  the  rooms  be  rectangular;  for  otherwife  void  fpa- 
ces  will  be  4eft,  which  are  of  no  ufe.  A  hexagonal 
figure  leaves  no  void  fpaces ;  but  it  determines  the  rooms 
to  be  all  of  one  fize,  which  is  extremely  inconvenient. 
A  room  of  a  moderate  fize  may  be  a  fquare  ;  but  in  ve- 
ry large  rooms  that  figure  muft,  for  the  moft  part,  give 
place  to  a  parallelogram,  which  can  more  eafily  be  ad- 
jufted  than  a  fquare,  to  the  fmallev  rooms  contrived 
merely  for  convenience.  A  parallelogram,  at  the  fame 
time,  is  the  beft  calculated  for  receiving  light ;  becaufe, 
to  avoid  crofs  lights,  all  the  windows  ought  to  be  ia 
one  v/all  ;  and  if  the  oppcriite  wall  be  at  fucli  diftance 
as  not  to  be  fully  lighted,  the  room  muft  be  obfcure. 
The  height  of  a  room  exceeding  nine  or  ten  feet,  has 
little  or  no  relation  to  utility  ;  and  therefore  proportion 
is  the  only  rule  for  determining  the  height  when  above 
that  number  of  feet. 

As  all  artifts  who  deal  in  the  beautiful  are  naturally 
prone  to  entertain  tlie  eye,  they  have  opportunity  to 
exert  their  tafte  upon  palaces  and  fumptuous  buildings, 
v/here,  as  above  obferved,  intrinfic  beauty  ought  to  have 
the  afcendant  over  that  which  is  relative.  But  fuch 
propenfity  is  unhappy  with  refpeft  to  dwelling-houfes  of 
moderate  fize  ;  becaufe  in  thefe,  intrinfic  beauty  cannot: 
be  difplay'd  in  any  perfeflion,  without  wounding  rela- 
tive beauty:  a  fmall  houfe  admits  not  great  variety  of 
form  ;  and  in  fuch  houfes  there  is  no  inftance  of  inter- 
nal convenience  being  accurately  adjufted  to  external  re- 
gularity :  I  am  apt  to  beh'eve  that  it  is  beyond  the  reach 
of  art.  And  yet  architefts  always  fplit  upon  that  rock; 
for  they  never  will  give  over  attempting  to  reconcile 
thefe  two  incompatibles  :  how  otherwife  fhould  it  hap- 
pen, that  of  the  endlefs  variety  of  private  dwelling- 
houfes,  there  is  not  one  to  be  found  generally  agreed 
upon  as  a  good  pattern  ?  The  unwearied  propenfity  to 
make  a  houfe  regular  as  well  as  convenient,  forces  the 
architect,  in  fonie  articles,  to  facrifice  convenience  to 
regularity,  and  in  others,  regularity  to  convenience  ; 
N  2  and 


^94  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

and  accordingly  the  houfe,  which  turns  out  neither  re- 
gular nor  convenient,  never  fails  to  difpleafe  :  the  faults 
are  obvious,  and  the  difficulty  of  doing  better  h  known 
to  the  artift  only  *. 

Nothing  can  be  more  evident,  than  that  the  form  of 
a  dwelling-houfe  ought  to  be  fuited  to  the  climate  ;  and 
yet  no  error  is  more  common,  than  to  copy  in  Britain 
the  form  of  Italian  houfes  j  not  forgetting  even  thofe 
parts  that  are  purpofely  contrived  for  air,  and  for  ex- 
cluding the  fun.  I  (liall  give  one  or  two  inftances.  A 
colonnade  along  the  front  of  a  building,  hath  a  fine  ef- 
fect in  Greece  and  Italy,  by  producing  coolneft  and  ob« 
fcurity,  agreeable  properties  in  warm  and  Junilnous  cli- 
mates :  but  the  cold  climate  of  Britain  is  aitogether  a- 
verfe  to  that  ornament;  and  therefore,  a  colonnade  can 
never  be  proper  in  this  country,  unlefs  for  a  portico, 
or  to  communicate  v/ith  a  detached  building.  Again, 
a  logio  laying  the  houfe  open  to  the  north,  contrived  in 
Italy  for  gathering  cool  air,  is,  if  poffible,  flill  more 
improper  for  this  climate:  fcarce  endurable  in  fummer, 
it,  in  winter,  expofes  the  houfe  to  the  bitter  blatls  of 
the  north,  and  to  every  fliower  of  fnow  and  rain- 

Having  faid  what  appeared  necelfary  upon  relative 
beauty,  the  next  ftep  is,  to  view  archite(5ture  as  one  of 
the  fine  arts  ;  which  will  lead  us  to  the  examination  of 
fuch  buildings,  and  parts  of  buildings,  as  are  calculated 
folely  to  pleafe  the  eye.  In  the  works  of  Nature,  rich 
and  magnificent,  variety  prevails ;  and  in  works  of  Art 
that  are  contrived  to  imitate  Nature,  the  great  art  is  to 
hide  every  appearance  of  art;  which  is  done  by  avoid- 
ing regularity,  and  indulging  variety.  But  in  works  of 
art  that  are  original,  and  not  imitative,  the  timid  hand 
is  guided  by  rule  and  compafs  ;  and  accordingly  in  ar- 
chitedure  drift  regularity  and  uniformity  is  ftudied,  as 
far  as  confident  with  utility. 

Proportion  is  not  lefs  agreeable  than  regularity  and 
uniformity  ;  and  therefore  in  buildings  intended  to  pleafe 
the  eye,  they  are  all  equally  effentlal.     By  many  writers 

it 

*  "  Houfes  are  built  to  live  in,  and  not  to  look  on 
•*  therefore  let  ufe  be  preferred  before  uniformity,  ex- 
"  ccpt  where  both  may  be  had."  Lo.  l^'erulaniy  ejfuy  45. 


Ch.  XXIV,  Architecture.  293 

ir  is  taken  for  granted,  that  in  all  the  parts  of  a  build- 
ing there  are  certain  Itrift  proportions  that  pleafe  the 
eye;  precifely  as  in  found  there  are  certain  ftrift  pro- 
portions that  pleafe  the  ear  ;  and  that  in  both  the  flight- 
eft  deviation  is  equally  difagreeable.  Others  again  feem 
to  relifli  more  a  comparifon  between  proportion  in  num- 
bers and  proportion  in  quantity;  and  hold  that  the  fame 
proportions  are  agreeable  in  both.  The  proportions, 
for  example,  of  the  numbers  16,  24,  and  36,  are  agree- 
able; and  fo,  fay  they,  are  the  proportions  of  a  room, 
the  height  of  which  is  16  feet,  the  breadth  24,  and  the 
length  36.  May  I  rely  upon  the  reader,  that  he  will 
patiently  go  along  with  me  in  examining  this  point, 
which  is  ufefu!  as  well  as  curious  ?  Taking  it  for  grant- 
ed, I  proceed.  To  refute  the  notion  of  a  refeinblance 
between  miifical  proportions  and  thofe  of  architedure, 
it  might  be  fufHcient  to  obferve  in  general,  that  the  one 
is  addrefTed  to  the  ear,  the  other  to  the  eye  ;  and  that 
objeds  of  different  f^nfes  have  no  refemblance,  nor  in- 
deed any  relation  to  each  other.  But  more  particularly, 
what  pleafes  the  ear  in  harmony,  is  not  the  proportion 
of  the  ftrings  of  the  inftrument,  but  of  the  founds  that 
thefe  ftrings  produce  :  in  architecture,  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  the  proportion  of  different  quantities  that  pleafes 
the  eye,  without  the  leaft  relation  to  found.  Befide, 
were  quantity  here  to  be  the  fole  ground  of  comparifon, 
we  have  no  reafon  to  prefume,  that  there  is  any  natural 
analogy  between  the  proportions  that  pleafe  in  a  build- 
ing, and  the  proportions  of  ftrings  that  produce  concor- 
dant founds.  Let  us  rake  for  example  an  odave,  pro- 
duced by  two  fimilar  ftrings,  the  one  double  of  the  other 
in  length:  this  is  the  molt  perfed  of  all  concords;  and 
yet  I  know  not  that  the  proportion  of  one  to  two  is  a- 
greeable  in  any  two  parts  of  a  building.  I  add,  that 
concordant  notes  are  produced  by  wind-inftruments, 
which,  a,5-  to  proportion,  appear  not  to  have  even  the 
flighteft  refemblance  to  a  building. 

With  refped  to  the  other  notion,  inftituting  a  com- 
parifon between  proportion  in  numbers  and  proportion 
in  quantity  ;  I  urge,  that  number  and  quantity  are  fo 
diftind  from  each  other,  as  to  afford  no  probability  of 
any  natural  relation  between  them.  Quantity  is  a  real 
N  3  quality 


2g6  Gardening    .;.d         Ch.  XXIV. 

quality  of  every  body  ;  number  is  not  a  real  quality,  but 
merely  an  idea  that  arifes  upon  viewing  a  plurality  of 
things,  whether  conjunctly  or  in  fuccelTion.  An  arith- 
metical proportion  is  agreeable  i.j  numbers;  but  have 
we  any  reafon  to  infer  that  it  mufc  alfo  be  agreeable  in 
quantity?  At  that  rate,  a  geomerrical  proportion,  and 
many  others  which  are  agreeable  in  numbers,  ought  al- 
fo to  be  agreeable  in  quantity.  A  certain  proportion 
may  coincide  in  both  ;  and  among  an  endlefs  variety  of 
proportions,  it  would  be  v/onderful,  if  there  never 
lliauld  be  a  coincidence:  one  example  is  given  of  coin- 
cidence in  the  numbers  16,  2_).,  and  36;  but  to  be  con- 
vinced chat  it  is  merely  accidental,  we  need  but  refieQ, 
that  the  fanie  proportions  are  not  applicable  to  the  ex- 
ternal figure  of  a  houfe,  and  far  lei's  to  a  column. 

That  we  are  framed  by  nature  ro  reiiih  proportion  as 
well  as  regularity,  is  indifputabie  ;  but  that  agreeable 
proportion,  like  concord  in  founds,  fliouid  be  confined 
io  certain  precife  meafures,  is  not  warranted  by  expe- 
rience: on  the  contrary,  we  learn  from  expeiience,  th.it 
proportion  admits  more  and  lefs,  that  feveral  proporti- 
ons are  each  of  them  agreeable,  aijd  that  we  are  not 
fenlible  of  difproportion  till  the  dirference  between  the 
quantities  compared  become  the  moll  ftriking  circum- 
ftance.  Columns  evidently  admit  diilcrent  proportions, 
equally  agreeable;  and  fo  do  hoafis,  roouis,  and  other 
parts  of  a  building.  This  leads  to  an  intere;ting  reflec- 
tion :  the  foregoing  difference  between  concord  and  pro- 
portion, is  an  additional  inftance  of  that  admirable  har- 
mony which  fubfiits  among  the  feveral  branches  of  the 
human  frame  :  the  ear  is  an  rxcurate  judge  of  lounds, 
and  of  their  fmallell  difFerenccL-  ;  and  that  concord  in 
lounds  fhould  be  regulated  by  accurate  mer.fur-:s,  is  per- 
fectly well  fuited  to  this  accuracy  of  perception  :  the 
eye  is  more  uncertain  about  the  fize  of  a  large  object, 
than  of  one  that  is  fmall  ;  and  at  a  dillance  an  object 
appears  lefs  than  at  hand.  Delicacy. of  feeling,  there- 
fore, with  refpeft  to  proportion  in  quantities,  would  be 
an  ufelefs  quality;  and  it  is  much  better  ordered,  that 
there  (hould  be  fuch  a  latitude  v/ith  refpedt  to  agreeable 
proportions,  as  to  correfpond  to  the  uncertainty  ot  the 
eye  with  refpeft  to  quantity. 

But 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  297 

But  all  the  beauties  of  this  fcene  are  not  yetdifplay'd  j 
and  it  is  too  intcrefting  to  be  pafTed  over  in  a  curfory 
view.  I  proceed  to  obferve,  that  to  make  the  eye  as 
delicate  with  refpeft  to  proportion  as  the  ear  is  with  ref- 
pefl  to  concord,  would  not  only  be  an  ufelefs  quality, 
but  be  the  fource  of  continual  pain  and  uneafinefs.  I 
need  go  no  farther  for  a  proof  than  the  very  room  I 
occupy  at  prefent  ;  for  every  ftep  I  tal'e  varies  to  me, 
in  appearance,  the  proportion  of  the  length  and  breadth: 
at  that  rate,  I  fliould  not  be  happy  but  in  one  precife 
fpot,  where  the  proportion  appears  agreeable.  Let  me 
further  obferve,  that  it  would  be  fingular  indeed,  to  find 
in  the  nature  of  man,  any  two  principles  in  perpetual 
cppontion  to  each  other:  which  would  precifely  be  the 
cale,  if  proporti'jn  weVe  circumfcribed  like  concord  ; 
for  it  v/ould  exclude  all  but  one  of  thofe  proportions 
that  utility  requires  in  diiferent  buildings,  and  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  fame  buildisg. 

It  is  ludicrous  to  obferve  writers  acknowledging  the 
neceility  of  accurate  proportions,  and  yet  differing  wide-- 
ly  about  them.  Laying  afide  realcning  and  philofophy, 
one  fa£t  univerfally  agreed  on  ought  to  have  undeceived 
them,  that  the  fame  proportions  which  are  agreeable  in 
a  model  are  not  agreeable  in  a  large  bnilding  :  a  room 
48  teet  in  length  and  24  in  breadth  and  height,  is  well 
proportioned  ;  but  a  room  12  feetvvide  and  high  and 
.24  long,  approaches  to  a  gallery. 

Perrault,  in  his  comparifon  of  the  antients  and  mo- 
derns*, is  the  only  author  who  runs  to  the  oppofite  ex- 
treme; maintaining,  that  the  different  proportions  af- 
figned  to  each  order  of  coluwins  are  arbitrary,  and  that 
the  beauty  of  ihefe  proportions  is  entirely  the  effeft  of 
cuftohi.  This  bewrays  ignorance  of  human  nature, 
which  evidently  delights  in  proportion,  as  well  as  in 're- 
gularity, order,  and' propriety.  But  without  any  ac- 
quaintance with  human  nature,  a  fingle  reflexion  might 
have  convinced  him  of  his  error,  That  if  thefe  propor- 
tions had  not  originally  been  agreeable,  they  could  not 
have  been  eftablilhed  by  cuftom. 

To  illuftrate  the  prefent  point,  I  fhall  add  a  few  ex- 
N  4  amples 

*  Page  94. 


29S  Gardening  ais'd         Ch.  XXIV. 

araples  of  the  agreeablenefs  of  different  proportions. 
In  a  fumptuous  edifice,  the  capital  rooms  ought  to  be 
large,  for  otherwife  they  will  not  be  proportioned  to 
the  fize  of  the  building  :  and  for  tlie  fame  reafon,  a 
very  large  room  is  improper  in  a  final!  houfe.  But  in 
things  thus  related,  the  mind  requires  not  a  precife  or 
fingle  proportion,  rejeding  all  others ;  on  the  contrary, 
many  different  proportions  are  made  equally  welcome. 
It  is  only  when  a  proportion  becomes  loofe  and  dirtanr, 
that  the  agreeablenefs  abates,  and  at  laft  vanifteth.  In 
all  buildings  accordingly,  we  find  rooms  of  different 
proportions  equally  agreeable,  even  where  the  propor- 
tion is  not  influenced  by  utility.  With  refpect  to  the 
height  of  a  room,  the  proportion  it  ought  to  bear  to 
the  length  and  breadth,  is  extremely  arbitrary  ;  and  ic 
cannot  be  otherwife,  confidering  the  uncertainty  of  the 
eye  as  to  the  height  of  a  room,  when  it  exceeds  17  or 
18  feet.  In  columns  again,  even  archite£ls  mutl  conrefs, 
that  the  proportion  of  height  and  thicknefs  varies  be- 
twixt 8  diameters  and  10,  and  that  every  proportion  be- 
tween thefe  two  extremes  Is  agreeable.  But  this  is  not 
all.  There  muft  certainiy  be  a  further  variation  of  pro- 
portion, depending  on  the  fize  of  the  column  :  a  row 
of  columns  10  feet  high,  and  a  row  twice  that  height, 
require  different  proportions  :  the  intercolumniations 
muft  alfo  differ  in  proportion  accoiding  to  the  height  ot 
the  row. 

Proportion  of  parts  is  not  only  itfelf  a  beauty,  but  is 
infeparably  connected  with  a  beauty  of  the  higheft  re- 
lifli,  that  of  concord  or  harmony ;  which  will  be  plain 
from  what  follows.  A  room  of  v\hich  the  parts  are  all 
iinely  adjufted  to  each  other,  ftrikes  us  with  the  beauty 
of  proportion.  It  ftrikes  us  at  the  fame  time  with  a 
pleafure  far  fuperior:  the  length,  the  breadth,  the  height, 
the  windows,  raife  each  of  them  feparately  an  emotion  : 
thefe  emotions  are  fimilar  ;  and  though  faint  when  feit 
feparately,  they  produce  in  conjunction  the  emotion  of 
concord  or  harmony,  which  is  extieniely  pleafant  *.  On 
the  other  hand,  where  the  length  of  a  room  far  exceeds 
the  breadth,  the  mind  comparing  together  parts  fo  inti- 
mately 

*  Chap.  2.  part  4. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  259 

niately  conneded,  immediately  perceives  a  difagrcement 
or  difproportion  which  difgufts.  But  this  is  not  all  : 
viewin?  them  feparately,  different  emotions  are  produ- 
ced, that  of  grandeur  from  the  great  length,  and  that 
of  meannefs  or  jittlenefs  from  the  fniali  breadth,  which 
in  union  are  difagreeable  by  their  difcordance.  Hence 
it  is,  that  a  long  gallery,  however  convenient  for  exer- 
cife,  is  not  an  agreeable  figure  of  a  room  :  we  coofider 
It,  like  a  liable,  as  deftined  for  ufe,  and  expeft  not  that 
in  any  other  refpeft  it  fhould  be  agreeable  *. 

Regularity  and  proportion  are  effential  in  buildings 
deftined  chiefly  or  folely  to  pleafe  the  eye,  becaufe  they 
are  the  means  to  produce  intrinfic  beauty.  But  a  (kilful 
artift  will  not  confine  his  view  to  regularity  and  propor- 
tion r  he  will  alfo  ftudy  congruity,  which  is  perceived 
when  the  form  and  ornaments  of  a  ftru£lure  are  fuited 
to  the  purpofe  for  which  it  is  intended.  The  fenfe  of 
congruity  di<5tates  the  following  rule.  That  every  build- 
ing have  an  exprefliou  correfponding  to  its  deftination  : 
A  palace  ought  to  be  fumptuous  and  grand  ;  a  private 
dwelling,  neat  and  modeft  ;  a  play-houle,  gay  and  fplen- 
did  ;  and  a  monument,  gloomy  and  melancholy  f.  A 
Heathen  temple  has  a  double  deftination  :  it  is  confider- 
ed  chiefly  as  a  houfe  dedicated  to  fome  divinity  ;  and  in 
N  5  that 

*  A  covered  paflage  connedling  a  winter  garden  with 
the  dwelUng-houfe,  would  anfwer  the  purpofe  of  walk- 
ing in  bad  weather  much  better  than  a  gallery.  A  flight 
loof  fuppbrted  by  flender  pillars,  whether  of  wood  or 
ftone,  would  be  fufficient  j  filling  up  the  fpaces  between 
the  pillars  with  evergreens,  fo  as  to  give  verdure  and  ex- 
clude wind. 

t  A  houfe  for  the  poor  ought  to  have  an  appearance  ■ 
fuited  to  its  deftination.     The  new  hofpital  in  Paris  for 
foundlings,  errs  againft  this  rule  ;  for  it  has  more  the  air 
of  a  palace  than  of  a  hofpital.     Propriety  and  conveni- 
ence ought  to  be  ftudied  in  lodging  the  indigent ;  but 
in  fuch  houfes  fplendor  and  magnificence  are  out  of  all  = 
rule.     For  the  fame  reafon,  a  naked  ftatue  or  pidure,  . 
fcarce  decent  any  where,  is  in  a  church  intolerable.     A  . 
fumptuous  chlrity-fchool,  befide  its  impropriety,  gires.  ^ 
the  children  an  unhappy  tafte  for  high  living.^ 


30©  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

that  refpeft  it  ought  to  be  grand,  elievated,  and  magni- 
' Scent:  it  is  confidered  alfo  as  a  place  of  worfhip;  and 
in  that  refpeQ  it  ought  to  be  foniewhat  dark  or  gloomy, 
becaufe  dimnefs  produces  that  tone  of  mind  which  is 
fuited  to  humility  and  devotion.  A  Ghriib'an  church  is 
not  confidered  to  be  a  houfe  for  the  Deity,  but  merely 
a  place  of  vvorfhip:  it  ought  therefore  to  be  decent  and 
plain,  without  much  ornaineni  :  a  lituation  ought  to  be 
chofen,  humble  and  retired  ;  becaufe  the  congregation, 
during  worlhip,  ought  to  be  humble,  and  dif;ngaged 
from  the  world.  Columns,  befide  their  chief  fervice  of 
tjeing  fupports,  contribute  to  that  peculiar  exprcflion 
which  the  deftlnation  of  a  building  requires:  coluinns 
of  different  proportions,  ferve  to  e.xprefs  lofcinefs,  light- 
nefs,  l^c.  as  well  as  llrength.  Situation  alfo  may  con- 
tribute to  expreflion  :  conveniency  regulates  the  lituati- 
on of  a  private  dwelling- houfe ;  but,  a-s  I  Iiave  had  oc- 
cafion  to  obferve  *,-  the  fituation  of  a  palace  ought  to 
be  lofty. 

And  this  leads  to  a  queftion,  Whether  the  fituation, 
where  there  happens  to  be  no  choice,  ought,  in  any 
^neafure,  to  regulate  the  form  of  the  edifice  ?  7'he  con- 
iie£tion  between  a  great  houfe  and  the  neighbouring 
.fields,  though  not  extremely  intimate,  demands  howe- 
ver fome  congruity.  It  would,  for  exaiuple,  difpleafe 
us  to  find  an  elegant  building  thrown  away  upon  a  wild 
.uncultivated  country  :  congruity  requires  a  polilhed  field 
for  fuch  a  building  j  and  befide  the  pleafure  of  congiui- 
ty,  the  fpetlator  is  fenfible  of  the  pleafure  of  concord- 
ance from  the  fimilarity  of  the  emotions  produced  b" 
the  two  objects.  The  old  Gothic  form  of  building  leems 
well  fuited  to  the  rough  uncultivated  regions  where  it 
•was  invented  :  the  only  miftake  was,  the  transferring 
this  foim  to  the  fine  plains  of  France  and  Italy,  better 
litted  for  buildings  in  the  Grecian  taile  j  but  by  refining 
upon  the  Gothic  form,  every  thing  poffible  has  been 
done  to  reconcile  it  to  its  new  fituation.  The  profufe 
variety  of  wild  and  grand  objects  about  Inverary,  de- 
manded a  houfe  in  the  Gothic  form  ;  and  every  one  mud 
approve  the  tafte  of  the  proprietor,  in  adjufting  fo  fine- 

^  ^  ly. 

Chap.   I  o.. 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  301- 

Iv,  as  he  has  done,  the  appearance  of  his  houfe  to  that 
of  the  country  where  it  is  placed. 

The  external  i1iu£ture  of  a  great  houfe,  leads  natu- 
rally to  its  internal  flruiStare.  A  large  and  fpacious  room, 
which  is  the  firll  that  commonly  receives  us,  feems  a 
bad  contrivance  in  feveral  refpetls.  In  the  lirft  place, 
vrhen  immediafely  from  the  open  air  we  flep  into  fuch 
a  room,  its  fize  in  appearance  is  diminifhed  by  contraft: 
it  looks  little  compared  with  that  great  canopy  the  fky. 
In  the  next  place,  when  it  recovers  its  grandeur,  as  ic 
foon  doth,  it  gives  a  diminutive  appearance  to  the  reft 
of  the  houfe  :  paffing  from  it,  every  apartment  looks 
little.  This  room  therefore  may  be  aptly  compared  to  > 
the  fwoln  commencement  of  an  epic  poem,    . 

Bella  per  Emathios  plufqaam  civilia  carhpos. 

In  the  third  place,  by  its  fituation  it  ferves  only  for  a- 
waiting  room,  and  a  paffage  to  the  principaf  apartments; 
inftead  of  being  refefved,  as  it  ought  to  be,  for  enter- 
taining company:  a  great  room,  which  enlarges  the 
mind  and  gives  a  certain  elevation  to  the  fpirits,  is  def- 
tined  by  nature  for  converfation.  Rejecting  therefore 
this  form,  I  take  a  hint  from  the  climax  in  writing  for 
another  form  that  appears  more  fuitable  :  a  handfome 
portico,  proportioned  to  the  fize  and  fafhion  of  the  front, 
leads  into  a  waiting-room  of  a  larger  fi.ie  j  and  that  to 
the  great  room,  all  by  a  progreilion  from  fmall  to  great. 
If  the  hjufe  be  very  large,  there  ni'ay  be  fpace  for  the 
foUo.ving  fuit  of  rooms ;  firft,  a  portico  j  fecond,  a  paf- 
fage  within  the  houfe,  bounded  by  a  double  row  of  co- 
lumns connefted  by  arcades;  third,  an  odtagon  room,, 
or  of  any  other  figure,  about  the  centre  of  the  building  ; , 
and.  laftly,   the  great  room. 

A  double  row  of  windows  muft  be  difagreeable  by 
diftrihuting  the  light  unequally:  the  fpace  in  particular 
between  the  rows  is  always  gloomy.  For  that  reafon, 
a  room  of  great  height,  which  cannot  be  conveniently 
ferved  by  a  fingle  row,  ought  regularly  to  be  lighted 
from  the  roof.  Artilb  have  generally  an  inclination  to  . 
form  the  great  room  into  a  double  cube,  even  with  the 
inconvenience  of  a  double  row  of  windows  :  they  are: 
pleafed  with  the  regularity,  overlooking  that  it  is  men-; 

tal . 


502  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

tal  on]y,  and  not  vifible  to  the  eye,  which  feldom  can 
diftinguilh  between  the  height  of  24  feet  and  that  of 
30  * 

Of  all  the  emotions  that  can  be  raifed  by  architec- 
ture, grandeur  is  that  which  has  the  greateft  influence 
on  the  mind;  and  it  ought  therefore  to  be  the  chief 
ftudy  of  the  artift,  to  raife  this  emotion  in  great  build- 
ings deftin'd  to  pleafe  the  eye.  But  as  grandeur  depends 
partly  on  fize,  it  feems  fo  far  unlucky  for  architeflure, 
that  it  is  governed  by  regularity  and  proportion,  which 
never  deceive  the  eye  by  making  objects  appear  larger 
than  they  are  in  reality  :  fuch  deception,  as  above  ob- 
ferved  in  the  prefent  chapter,  is  never  found  but  with 
fome  remarkable  difproportion  of  parts.  But  though 
regularity  and  proportion  contiibute  nothing  to  grandeur 
as  far  as  that  emotion  depends  on  fize,  they  in  a  differ- 
ent Tefpect  contribute  greatly  to  it,  as  has  been  explairi- 
ed  above  f. 

Next  of  ornaments,  which  contribute  to  give  build- 
ings a  peculiar  expreffion.  It  has  been  doubted  whether 
a  building  can  regularly  admit  any  ornament  but  what  is 
ufeful,  or  at  lead  has  that  appearance.  But  confidering 
the  different  purpofes  of  architecture,  a  fine  as  well  as 
an  ufeful  art,  there  is  no  good  reafon  why  ornaments 
may  not  be  added  to  pleafe  the  eye  without  any  relati- 
on to  ufe.  This  liberty  is  allowed  in  poetry,  painting, 
and  gardening,  end  why  not  in  aicbitecture  confidered 
as  a  fine  art?  A  private  dwelling-houfe,  it  is  true,  and 
other  edifices  where  ufe  is  the  chief  aim,  admit  not  re- 
gularly any  ornament  but  what  has  the  appearance,  at 
leaft,  of  ufe  :  but  temples,  triumphal  arches,  and  other 
buildings  intended  chiefly  or  folely  for  fhow,  admit  e- 
Tery  fort  of  ornament. 

A  thing 

*  One  who  has  not  given  peculiar  attention  will  fcarce 
jiiiagine  how  imperfeCt  our  judgment,  is  about  diftances, 
•without  experience.  Our  looks  being  generally  dired^ed 
to  objects  upon  the  ground  around  us,  we  judge  tolera- 
bly well  of  horizomal  alliances  :  but  feldom  having  oc- 
cailon  to  look  upward  in  a  perpendicular  line,  we  fcarce 
can  form  any  judgment  of  diftances  in  that  direflion. 
t  Vol.   I.  p.  225, 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  303 

A  thing  intended  merely  as  an  ornament  withont  re- 
lation to  ufe,  may  be  of  any  figure  and  of  any  kind  that 
fancy  can  fuggell  :  if  ic  pleafe  the  fpedator,  the  artid 
gains  his  end  Starues,  vafes,  fculpture  upon  ftone, 
whether  bairo  or  alto  relievo,  are  beautiful  ornaments 
reliih'd  in  all  civilized  countries.  The  placing  fuch  or- 
naments lo  as  to  produce  the  beft  efFedl,  is  the  only  ni- 
cety. A  ftatue  done  to  perfeftion  is  an  inchanting  work  ;. 
and  we  naturally  require  that  it  (hould  be  fcen  in  every 
direftion  and  at  different  diftances;  for  which  reaforr, 
tlatues  employ'd  as  ornaments  are  proper  to  adorn  the 
great  flair  that  leads  to  the  principal  door  of  a  palace, 
or  to  occupy  the  void  between  pillars.  But  a  niche  in 
the  external  front  is  not  a  proper  place  for  a  ftatue:  and 
ftatues  upon  the  roof,  or  upon  the  top  of  a  wall,  would 
give  pain  by  feeoiing  to  be  in  danger  of  tumbling  down. 
To  adorn  the  top  of  a  wall  with  a  row  of  vafes  is  an 
unhappy  conceit,  by  placing  things  apparently  of  ufe  - 
where  they  cannot  be  of  any  ule  As  to  baffo  and  alto 
lelievo,  I  obferve,  that  in  architecture  as  well  as  in  gar- 
dening, contradictory  exprelfions  ought  to  be  avoided: 
for  which  reafon,  the  lightnefs  and  delicacy  of  carved 
work  (uits  ill  with  the  firmnefs  and  folidity  of  a  pcdeftah 
•upon  the  pedeftal,  whether  of  a  ftatue  or  a  column,  the 
antients  never  ventured  any  bolder  ornament  than  the 
baftb  relievo. 

One  at  firft  view  will  naturally  take  it  for  granted, 
that  in  the  ornaments  under  conlideration  beauty  is  in- 
difpeafable.  It  goes  a  g  eat  way  undoubtedly  •  but  ur> 
on  trial  we  find  many  things  efteemed  as  highly  ornai- 
mental  that  have  little  or  no  beauty.  There  are  various 
circumftances,  btfide  beauty,  that  tend  to  make  agree- 
able impreifions.  For  inrtance,  the  reverence  we  have 
for  the  antients. is  a  fruitful  fource  of  ornaments.  A'. 
malthea's  horn  has  alv/ays  been  a  favourite  ornament, 
becaufe  of  its  connection  with  a  lady  who  was  honour- 
ed with  the  care  of  Jupiter  in  his  infancy  A  fat  old 
fellow  and  a  goat  aie  furely  not  graceful  forms  j  and 
yet  Silenus  and  his  companion  are  every  where  fafbion- 
able  ornaments.  What  elfe  but  our  fondnefs  for  anti- 
quity can  make  the  horrid  form  of  a  Sphinx  fo  much  as 
endurable.     Original  deftination  is  another  circumftance 

that- 


3C4  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

that  has  influence  to  add  dignity  to  things  in  themfelves 
abundantly  trivial.  In  the  Iculpture  of  a  marble  chim- 
ney-piece, inftruments  of  a  Grecian  or  Roman  facrifice 
are  beheld  with  plealiire;  original  deftination  rendering 
them  venerable  as  well  as  their  antiquity.  Let  fome 
modern  cutlery  ware  be  fubttitiited,  though  not  lefs 
beautiful,  the  artift  will  be  thought  whimfical,  if  not 
abfurd.  Triumphal  arches,  pyramids,  obelifks,  are 
beautiful  forms ;  but  the  noblenefs  of  their  original  de- 
ftination has  greatly  inhanced  the  pleafure  we  take  in 
them.  A  rtatue  fuppofed  to  be  an  Apollo,  will  with  an 
antiquary  lofe  much  of  its  grace  when  difcovered  to 
have  been  done  for  a  barber's  apprentice.  Long  robes 
appear  noble,  not  fingly  for  their  flowing  lines,  but  for 
their  being  the  habit  of  magiftrates  j  and  a  fcarf  acquires 
an  air  of  dignity  by  being  the  badge  of  a  fuperior  order 
of  churchmen.  Thefe  examples  n)ay  be  thought  fuffi- 
cient  for  a  fpecimen :  a  diligent  inquiry  into  human  na- 
ture will  difcover  other  influencing  principles ;  and  hence 
it  is,  that  of  all  fubjeds  ornaments  occafion  the  greateft 
variety  of  talle. 

Things  merely  ornamental  appear  more  gay  and  fliowy 
than  things  that  take  on  the  appearance  of  ufe.  A  knot 
of  diamonds  in  the  hair  is  fplendid  ;  but  diamonds  have 
a  more  modefl:  appearance  when  ufed  as  clafps  or  but- 
tons. The  former  are  more  proper  for  a  young  beauty, 
the  latter  after  marriage. 

And  this  leads  to  ornair.ents  having  relation  to  ufe. 
Ornaments  of  that  kind  are  governed  by  a  dilferent  prin- 
ciple, which  is,  That  they  ought  to  be  of  a  form  fuited 
to  their  real  or  apparent  deftination.  This  rule  is  ap- 
plicable as  well  to  ornaments  that  make  a  component 
part  of  the  fubjeft,  as  to  ornaments  that  are  only  ac- 
ceflbr.y.  Vv'ith  relation  to  the  former,  it  never  can  pro- 
ceed from  a  good  talle  to  make  a  tea-fpoon  refemble  the 
■leaf  of  a  tree  ;  for  fuch  a  form  is  inconfiftent  with  the 
dedination  of  a  tea  fpoon.  An  eagle's  paw  is  an  orna- 
ment not  lefs  improper  for  the  foot  of  a  chair  or  table; 
tecaufe  it  gives  it  the  appearance  of  weaknefs,  incon- 
fiftent with  its  deftination  of  bearing  weight.  Blind 
windows  are  fometimes  introduced  to  preferve  the  ap- 
pearance of  regularity  :  in  which  cafe  the  deceit  ought 

carefully 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  305 

carefully  to  be  conceaied ;  for  to  make  it  vifible  would 
be  to  mark  the  irregularity  in  the  cleared  manner,  by 
fignitying  that  rea!  winJows  ought  to  have  been  there 
could  they  have  Dcen  made  conliilent  with  the  internal 
ftrudiue,  A  pilaiier  is  another  example  of  the  fame 
fort  of  ornament  j  and  the  greateft  error  againft  its 
Teeming  deltination  of  a  fupport,  is  to  fink  it  fo  far  into 
the  wall  as  to  make  it  lofe  that  feeming.  A  compofition 
leprelenting  leaves  and  branches,  with  birds  perching 
upon  them,  has  been  long  in  fafhion  for  a  candlellick  : 
but  none  of  thefe  particulars  is  in  any  degree  fuited  to 
the  deftination  of  a  candleltick. 

A  large  marble  bafon  lupported  by  fiihes  is  a  conceit 
much  relilhed  in  fountains.  This  is  an  example  of  ac- 
celfory  ornaments  which  are  in  a  bad  talle  ;  for  fifhes 
here  ate  abfolutely  unluiiable  to  their  apparent  deftina- 
tion.  Not  lefs  lo  are  the  fupports  of  a  coach  when 
they  are  carved  in  the  figure  of  Dolphins  or  Tritons  : 
for  what  have  thele  marine  beings  to  do  on  dry  land  ? 
and  what  fupport  can  they  be  to  a  ccacli  ? 

In  a  column  we  have  an  example  of  both  kinds  of  or- 
nament. Where  columns  are  empioy'd  in  the, front  of 
a  building  to  fupport  an  entablature,  they  belong  to  the 
firfl  kind:  where  empioy'd  to  connett  v,-ith  detach'd  of- 
fices, they  are  rathei  of  the  oiher  kind.  As  a  column 
is  a  capital  ornament  in  Grecian  architecture,  it  well  de- 
ferves  to  be  handled  at  latge. 

With  refpett  to  the  tonn  of  this  ornament,  I  obferve, 
that  a  circle  is  a  more  agreeable  figure  tnan  a  fquare,  a 
globe  than  a  cube,  and  a  cylinder  than  a  patallelopipe- 
don  This  laft,  in  the  language  of  architecture,  is  fay- 
ing that  a  colun)n  is  a  more  agreeable  figure  than  a  pi- 
lalter ;  and  for  that  realon,  it  ought  to  be  preferred,  all 
other  circumfiances  being  equal  :  another  reafon  con- 
curs, that  a  column  annexed  to  a  wall,  which  is  a  plain 
furface,  makes  a  greater  variety  than  a  pilafter.  There 
is  an  additional  reafon  for  rejecting  pilailers  in  the  ex- 
ternal front  of  a  building,  arifing  from  a  principle  un- 
folded above  *,  'viz.  a  tendency  in  man,  to  advance 
every  thing  to  its  perfection  as  well  as  to  its  conciufion. 

*  Chap.  8. 


3o6  Gardening  AND         Ch.XXIV, 

If,  for  example,  T  fee  a  thing  obfcurely  in  a  dim  lighC 
and  by  disjointed  parts,  that  tendency  prompts  me,  out 
of  the  disjointed  parts  to  compofe  an  entire  whole  ;  I 
fnppofe  ii  to  be,  for  example,  a  horfe  ;  and  my  eye- 
fight  being  obedient  to  the  conj?£ture,  I  immediately 
perceive  a  horfe,  ahnoft  as  difiindtly  as  in  day-light. 
This  principle  is  applicable  to  the  cale  in  hand.  The 
moft  fuperb  front,  at  a  great  dirtance,  appears  a  plain 
furface  :  approaching  gradually,  we  begin  to  perceive 
inequalities  :  thefe  inequalities,  when  we  advance  a  few 
fteps  more,  take  on  the  appearance  of  pillars :  but  whe- 
ther round  or  fquare,  we  are  uncertain:  our  curiofity 
anticipating  our  progrefs,  cannot  reft  in  fufpenfe :  being 
prompted  by  the  forefaid  tendency  to  fuppofe  the  molt 
Complete  pillar,  or  that  which  is  the  moft  agreeable  to 
the  eye,  we  immediately  perceive,  or  feem  to  perceive, 
a  number  of  columns  :  if  upon  a  near  approach  we  find 
pilaflers  only,  the  drfappointmcnt  makes  thefe  pilafters 
appear  difagreeable  ;  when  abftraded  from  that  circum- 
ftance,  they  would  only  have  appeared  fomewhat  lefs 
agreeable.  But  as  this  deception  cannot  happen  in  the 
inner  front  inclofrng  a  court,  I  fee  no  reafon  for  exclu- 
ding pilafters  there,  when  there  is  any  caufe  for  prefer- 
ring them  before  columns. 

With  refpeft  now  to  the  parts  of  a  column,  a  bare 
uniform  cylinder  without  a  capital,  appears  naked  ;  and 
without  a  bafe,  appears  too  ticklifhly  placed  to  ftand 
firm  *  :  it  ought  therefore  to  have  fome  finifliing  at  the 
top  and  at  the  bottom.  Hence  the  three  chief  parts 
of  a  column,  the  iTiaft,  the  bafe,  and  the  capital.  Na- 
ture undoubte'dly  requires  proportion  among  thefe  parts, 
but  it  admits  variety  of  proportion.  I  fufpect  that  the 
proportions  in  ufe  have  been  influenced  in  loine  degree 
by  the  human  figure;  the  capital  being  conceived  as  the 
head,  the  bafe  as  the  feet.  With  refpedt  to  the  bafe, 
indeed,  the  principle  of  utility  interpofes  to  vary  it  from 

the 


*  A  column  without  a  bafe  is  difagreeable,  becaufe 
it  feems  in  a  tottering  condition  ;  yet  a  tree  without  a 
bafe  is  agreeable  ;  and  the  reafon  is,  that  we  know  it  to 
be  firmly  rooted.  This  obfervation  Ihows  how  much 
tafte  is  influenced  by  refle6\ion. 


Cb.  XXIV.  Architecture.  307 

the  human  figure  :  the  bafe  niuil  be  fo  proportioned  to 
the  whole,  as  to  give  tlie  column  the  appearance  of 
{lability. 

We  find  three  orders  of  columns  among  the  Greeks, 
the  Doric,  the  Ionic,  and  the  Corinthian,  dillinguifhed 
from  each  other  by  their  deftination  as  well  as  by  their 
ornaments.  It  has  been  warmly  difputed,  whether  any 
new  order  can  be  added  to  thefe  :  fome  hold  the  affirma- 
tive, and  give  for  inftances  the  Tufcan  and  Compolite  : 
others  deny,  and  mnintaii  thnt  thefe  properly  are  not 
diftinft  orders,  but  only  the  oiiginal  orders  with  fome 
flight  variations.  Among  writers  who  do  not  agree  up- 
on any  ftandard  for  diftinguifhing  the  different  orders 
from  each  other,  the  difpute  can  never  have  an  end. 
All  I  can  find  with  refpeft  to  it  of  any  importance,  is 
what  follows. 

The  onlp'  circumftances  that  can  ferve  to  diftinguilli 
one  order  from  another,  are  the  form  of  the  column, 
and  its  deftination.  To  make  the  firlt  a  diftingui/lzing 
mark,  without  regard  to  the  other,  would  multiply  thefe 
orders  without  end  ;  for  a  colour  is  not  more  fufcepti- 
ble  of  different  fhades,  than  a  column  is  of  different 
forms.  Deftination  is  more  limited,  as  it  leads  us  to 
diflinguifh  coluiuns  into  three  kinds  or  orders ;  one  plain 
and  ilrong,  for  the  purpofe  of  fuppoi  ting  plain  and  maffy 
buildings  ;  one  delicate  and  graceful,  for  fupporting 
buildings  of  that  charader ;  and  between  thefe,  one  for 
fupporting  buildings  of  a  middle  character.  This  dil- 
tindiion,  which  regards  the  diiferent  purpofes  of  a  co- 
lumn, is  not  naturally  liable  to  any  objection,  confider- 
ing  that  it  tends  alio  to  regulate  the  form,  and  in  fome 
nieafure  the  ornaments,  of  a  column.  To  enlarge  the 
divifion  by  taking  in  a  grcatfr  variety  of  purpofes,  would 
be  of  little  ufe,  and,  if  admitted,  would  have  no  end  j 
for  from  the  very  nature  of  the  foregoing  divifion,  there 
can  be  no  good  reafon  for  adding  a  fourth  order,  more 
than  a  fifth,  a  fixth,  i^c.  without  any  pofTible  circum- 
fcription. 

To  illuftrate  this  dodrine,  1  make  the  following  ob- 
fervation.  If  we  regard  deflination  only,  the  Tufcan 
is  of  the  fame  order  with  the  Doiic,  and  the  Compofite 

v/itii 


3o8  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV. 

with  the  Corinthian  j  but  if  we  regard  form  merely, 
they  are  of  different  orders. 

The  ornaments  of  thefe  three  orders  ought  to  be  fo 
contrived  as  to  make  them  look  like  what  they  are  in- 
tended for.  Plain  and  rullic  ornaments  would  be  not  a 
little  difcordant  with  the  elegance  of  the  Corinthian  or- 
der, and  ornaments  fweet  and  delicate  not  lefs  fo  with 
the  ftrength  of  the  Doric.  For  that  reafon,  I  cannot 
be  altogether  fatlsfied  with  the  ornaments  of  the  latt- 
mentioned  order:  if  they  be  not  too  delicate,  thev  are 
at  leaft  too  much  multiplied  for  a  pillar  in  which  the 
charafter  of  utility  prevails  over  that  of  beauty.  The 
crowding  of  ornaments  would  be  more  fuflterable  in  a 
column  of  an  oppofite  charafter.  But  this  is  a  flight 
objeftion,  and  I  wilh  1  could  think  the  faniej'of  what 
follows.  The  Corinthian  order  has  been  the  favourite 
of  two  thoufand  years,  a^id  yet  I  cannot  force  myfelf 
to  reliih  its  capital.  The  invention  of  this  florid  capital 
is  afcribed  to  the  fculptor  Callimachus,  whe  borrowed 
the  hint  from  the  plant  Acanthus,  grov;ing  Tound  a  bafk- 
et  placed  accidentally  upon  it  ;  and  in  fad  the  capital 
under  confideration  reprefents  pretty  accurately  a  balket 
fo  ornamented.  This  objed,  or  its  imitation  in  flone, 
placed  upon  a  pillar,  may  look  well  ;  but  to  make  it 
the  capital  of  a  pillar  intended  to  fupport  a  building, 
muft  give  this  pillar  an  appearance  inconfident  with  its 
deftination  :  an  Acanthus,  or  any  tender  plant,  may  re- 
quite fupport,  but  is  altogether  infufficient  to  (upport 
any  thing  heavier  than  a  bee  or  a  butterfly.  This  ca- 
pital mull  alfo  bear  the  weight  of  another  objection;  to 
reprefent  a  vine  wreathing  round  a  coluiim  with  its  root 
feemingly  in  the  ground,  is  natural  ;  but  to  reprefcnt.an 
Acanthus,  or  any  plant,  as  growing  on  the  top  of  a  co- 
lumn, is  unnatural.  The  elegance  of  this  capital  did 
probably  at  firlt  draw  a  vail  over  its  impropriety  ;  and 
now  by  long  ufe  it  has  gained  an  eftahlilhment,  refpc6t- 
ed  by  every  artift.  Such  is  the  force  of  cufl:om,  even 
in  contradidtion  to  nature  ! 

It  will  not  be  gaining  much  ground  to  urge,  that  the 
baflcet,  or  vafe  if  it  be  infiikd  on,  is  underllood  to  be 
the  capital,  and  that  the  flems  and  leaves  of  the  plant 
are  to  be  confidered  as  ornaments  merely  j  for,  except- 
ing 


Ch.  XXIV.  Architecture.  '309 

incr  a  plant,  nothing  can  be  a  more  improper  fiipport  for 
a  great  building  than  a  balliet  or  vale  even  of  the  firm- 
ed contexture. 

Wirh  refpeiEt  to  buildings  of  every  fort,  one  rule, 
dilated  by  utility,  is,  that  they  be  firm  and  flab]?.  A- 
riother  rule,  dilated  by  beauty,  is,  that  they  alfo  ap- 
pear fo  to  the  eye  :  for  every  thing  that  appears  tottering 
and  in  hazard  of  tumbling  dovv-n,  produceth  in  the  fpec- 
tator  the  painful  emotion  oi  fear,  infiead  of  the  plea- 
fant  emotion  of  beauty  ;  and,  accordinjjlv,  it  is  the 
great  care  of  the  artift,  that  every  part  of  his  edifice 
appear  to  be  well  fupported.  Procopius,  defcribing  the 
church  of  St  Sophia  in  Conftaniinople,  one  of  the  won- 
ders of  the  world,  mentions  with  applaufe  a  part  of 
the  fabric  placed  above  the  eaft  front  in  form  of  a  half- 
moon,  fo  contrived  as  to  infpire  both  fear  and  admira- 
tion :  for  though,  fays  he,  it  be  perfcQly  well  fupport- 
ed, yet  it  is  fufpended  in  fuch  a  manner  as  if  it  were 
to  tumble  dov/n  the  next  moment.  Thij  conceit  is  a 
fort  of  falfe  v.it  in  arc]iitt6lure,  which  men  would  na- 
turally be  fond  of  in  the  infancy  of  the  fine  arts.  A 
turret  jutting  out  from  an  angle  in  the  uppermoft  ftory 
of  a  Gothic  tower,  is  a  witticifm  of  the  fame  kind. 

To  fucceed  in  allegorical  or  emblematic  ornaments, 
is  no  flight  effort  of  genius  ;  for  it  is  extremely  difficult 
to  difpofe  them  fo  in  a  building  as  to  produce  any  good 
efiei^h  The  mixing  them  with  realities,  makes  a  mi- 
ferable  jumble  of  truth  and  fid  ion  *.  In  a  baffo-re- 
lievo  on  Ar.tonin's  pillar,  rain  obrained  by  the  prayers 
of  a  Chrillian  legion,  is  expreffed  by  joining  to  the 
group  of  foldiers  a  rainy  Jupiter,  with  water  in  abun- 
dance falling  from  his  head  and  beard.  De  Piles,  fond 
of  the  conceit,  catefuily  informs  his  reader,  that  he 
muft  not  take  this  for  a  real  Jupiter,  but  for  a  I'ymbol 
which  among  the  Pagans  fignificd  rain  :  he  never  once 
confiders,  that  a  fymbol  or  emblem  ought  not  to  make 
part  of  a  group  repreienting  real  objetts  or  real  events, 
but  be  fo  detacl.ed,  as  even  at  firil  view  to  appear  an 
embleni.  But  this  is  not  all,  nor  the  chief  point  :  eve- 
ry emblem  ougiit  to  be  rejedted  that  is  not  clearly'  ex- 

preflive 

♦  See  chap.  20.  feet.  5. 


3IO  Gardening  and         Ch.  XXIV 

preffive  of  its  meaning ;  for  if  it  be  in  any  degree  ob- 
icure,  it  puzzles,  and  doth  not  pleafe.  The  temples 
of  Antient  and  Modern  Virtue  in  the  gardens  of  Stow, 
appear  not  at  firft  view  emblematical  ;  and  when  we 
are  informed  that  they  are  fo,  it  is  not  eafy  to  gather 
their  meaning :  the  fpedator  fees  one  temple  entire,  a- 
nother  in  ruins;  but  without  an  explanatory  infcription, 
he  may  guefs,  but  cannot  be  certain,  thn-t  the  former 
being  dedicated  to  Antient  Virtue,  the  latter  to  Modern 
Virtue,  are  intended  a  fatire  upon  the  prefent  times.  Oa 
the  other  hand,  a  trite  emblem,  like  a  trite  fimile,  is 
difgutlful  *.  Nor  ought  an  emblem  more  than  a  fimile 
to  be  founded  on  low  or  familiar  objects  ;  for  if  thefe 
be  not  agreeable  as  well  as  their  meaning,  the  emblem 
upon  the  whole  will  not  be  reliflied.  A  room  in  a  dwell- 
ing-houfe  containing  a  monument  to  a  deceafed  friend, 
is  dedicated  to  Melancholy  :  it  has  a  clock  that  ftrikes 
every  minute,  to  fignify  how  fwitily  time  paiTcs — upon 
the  monument,  weeping  figures  and  other  hackney'd  or- 
naments commonly  found  upon  tonib-rtones,  with  a 
ftuff'd  raven  in  a  corner — verfes  on  death,  and  other  fe- 
rious  fubjeds,  infcribed  all  around.  The  objetts  are 
too  familiar,  and  the  artifice  too  apparent,  to  produce 
the  intended  elFe£t  f. 

The  ftatue  of  Mofes  ftriking  a  rock  from  which  wa- 
ter actually  ilfues,  is  alfo  in  a  falfe  tafte  ;  tor  it  is  mix- 
ing reality  with  reprefentation.  Mofes  himfelf  may 
bring  water  out  of  the  rock,  but  this  miracle  is  too 
much  for  bis  ftatue.  The  fame  objeiStion  lies  againft  a 
cafcade  where  we  fee  the  ftatue  of  a  water-god  pouring 
out  of  his  urn  real  water. 

I  am  more  doubtful  whether  the  fame  objeflion  lies 
againft  the  employing  ftatues  of  animals  as  fupports, 

that 

*  See  chap.  8. 

f  In  the  city  of  Mexico,  there  was  a  palace  termed 
the  houfe  af  Affii£lion,  where  Montezuma  retired  upon 
lofing  any  of  his  friends,  or  upon  any  public  calamity. 
This  houfe  was  better  adjufted  to  its  deftination  :  it  in- 
fpired  a  fort  of  horror :  all  was  black  and  difmal :  fmall 
windows  (hut  up  with  grates,  fcarce  allowing  paffage  ro^ 
the  light. 


Ch,  XXV.       Standard  OF  Taste.  311 

that  of  a  Negro,  for  example,  fupporting  a  dial,  fta- 
tues  of  fifli  fupporting  a  bafon  of  water,  Termes  fup-- 
porting  a  chimney-piece  ;  for  when  a  (tone  is  ufed  as  a 
fupport,  where  is  the  incongruity,  it  will  be  faid,  to 
cut  it  into  the  form  of  an  animal  ?  But  leaving  this  doubt- 
ful, another  objedion  concurs.  That  fuch  defigns  muft 
in  fome  meafure  be  difagreeable,  by  the  appearance  of 
giving  pain  to  a  fenfitive  being. 

It  is  obferved  above  of  gardening,  that  it  contributes 
to  reftitiide  of  manners,  by  infpiring  gaiety  and  bene- 
volence. I  add  another  obfervation,  That  both  garden- 
ing and  architedture  contribute  to  the  fame  end,  by  in- 
fpiring a  tafte  for  neatnefs  and  elegance.  In  Scotland, 
the  regularity  and  polifh  even  of  a  turnpike-road  has 
fome  influence  of  this  kind  upon  the  low  people  in  the 
neighbourhood.  They  become  fond  of  regularity  and 
neatnefs;  which  is  difplay'd,  firft  upon  their  yards  ar.d 
little  inclofures,  and  next  within  doors,  A  tafte  fir 
regularity  and  neatnefs  thus  acquired,  is  extended  Ly 
degrees  to  drefs,  and  even  to  behaviour  and  manners. 
The  author  of  a  hiftory  of  Switzerland,  defcribing  the 
fierce  manners  of  the  plebeians  or  Bern  three  or  four 
centuries  ago,  continually  inured  to  fuccefs  in  war,  which 
made  them  infolently  aim  at  a  change  of  government, 
in  order  to  eftabiilh  a  pure  democracy,  obferves,  that 
no  circumllance  tended  more  to  fweeten  their  manners, 
and  to  make  thein  fond  of  peace,  than  the  public  build- 
ings carried  on  by  the  fenate  for  ornamenting  their  ca- 
pital ;  particularly  a  fine  town-houfe,  and  a  magnificent 
church,  which  to  this  day,  fays  our  author,  ftands  its 
ground  as  one  of  the  fiuell  in  Europe. 

CHAP.     XXV.         Standard  of  Taste. 

"  f  I  VHat  there  is  no  difputing  about  tafte,"  mean- 
\  ing  tafte  in  its  figurative  as  well  as  proper  fenfe, 
is  a  laying  fo  generally  received  as  to  have  become  a 
proverb.  One  thing  even  at  firft  view  is  evident,  tliat 
if  .the  proverb  hold  true  with  refpe£t  to  tafte  in  its  pro- 
per meaning,  it  muft  hold  equally  true  with  iefpe(!it  to 
our  other  external  fenfes :  if  the  pleafures  of  the  palate 
difdaiii  a  comparative  trial,  and  reject  all  criticifm,  the 

plsafures 


312  OTAKDARD   OF  TaSTE.  Cll.   XXV. 

pleafures  of  touch,  of  faiell,  of  found,  and  even  of 
fight,  iTi'jll  be  equally  privileged.  At  that  rate,  a  man 
is  not  within  tlie  reach  of  cenfure,  even  where  he  pre- 
fers the  Saracen's  head  upon  a  fign-poft  before  the  beft 
tabiature  of  Raphael,  or  a  rude  Gothic  tower  before  the 
fineft  Grecian  buiidiiiE;;  or  where  he  prefers  the  finell 
of  a  rotten  carcafs  before  that  of  the  mod  odoriferous 
flower,  or  jarring  difcords  before  the  nioft  exquifite 
harmony. 

■But  we  cannot  ftop  here.  If  tJic  pleafures  of  exter- 
nal fenfe  be  exempted  from  criiicillu,  why  not  eveiy 
one  of  our  pleafures,  from  whatever  fource  derived? 
if  tarte  in  its  proper  \enk  cannot  be  difputcd,  there  is 
as  little  room  for  difputing  it  in  its  figurative  fenfe.  The 
proverb  accordingly  comprehends  both  ;  and  in  that  large 
fenfe  may  be  leialved  into  the  following  general  propo- 
licioii,  ^fhat  with  lefpect  to  the  perceptions  of  Ic-nfe,  by 
which  fome-objedf,  appear  agreeable  fome  difagreeable, 
there  'n  not  fuch  a  thing  as  a  gcoti  or  a  l?ad,  a  rtg/?/  or  a 
'wrong  J  that  every  man's  tafte  is  to  himlelf  an  ultimate 
itandard  without  appeal  ;  and  confequently  that  there  ■ 
is  no  ground  of  cenlure  againft  any  one,  if  fuch  a  one 
there  be,  who  ptelers  Ijlackniore  before  Homer,  felfifh- 
nefs  before  benevolence,  or  cowardice  before  magnani- 
rnity. 

The  proverb  in  the  foregoing  examples  is  indeed  car- 
ried very  far  :  it  feems  difficult,  however,  to  fap  its  - 
foundation,  or  with  fuccefs  to  attack  it  from  any  quar- 
ter:  for  is  not  eveiy  man  equally  a  judge  of  what  ought 
to  be  agreeable  or  dilagreeabfe  to  himlelf?  doth  it  not 
feem  vvhinillcal,  and  perhaps  abi'urd,  to  aflert,  that  a 
man  ought  not  to  be  pleafed  when  he  is,  or  that  he  ough: 
to  be  pleafeJ  when  lie  is  not  ? 

This  realoning  may  perplex,  but  will  never  afford 
convidlion  :  every  one  ot  taite  will  lejeft  it  as  falfe,  how- 
ever unqualified  to  detedl  the  fali.icy.  At  the  faure  time, 
though  no  man  of  tafte  will  alfenc  to  the  proverb  as 
holding  true  in  every  cafe,  no  man  will  affirm  that  it 
holds  true  in  no  cafe  ;  objeds  there  are,  undoubtedly, 
that  we  ujay  like  or  diilike  indhferenrly,  without  any 
imputation  upon  our  tafte  Were  a  phiiofopher  to  make 
a  Icale  for  human  pleafures,  he  would  not  think  of  mak- 
ing 


Ch.  XXV.       Standard  of  Taste.  313 

jng  divil'ions  without  end  ;  but  would  rank  together  mn- 
ny  pleafures  arifing  perhaps  from  different  objedts,  ei- 
ther as  equally  conducing  to  happinafs,  or  differing  (o 
imperceptibly  as  to  make  a  feparation  unnecelfitry  Na- 
ture hath  taken  this  courfe,  at  leafl:  it  appears  fo  to  rhe 
generality  of  mankind.  There  may  be  fubdiviilons 
without  end  j  but  we  are  only  fenfible  of  the  grnfler 
divifions,  comprehending  each  of  them  various  pleafures 
equally  atfefting:  to  thefe  the  proveib  is  applicable  in 
the  fi:ri€te{1:  ffnle  ;  for  w-ith  refpeft  to  pleafures  of  the 
fjime  rank,  what  ground  can  there  be  for  preferring  one 
before  another?  if  a  preference  in  fa£t  be  given  by  any 
individual,  it  cannot  proceed  from  tafte,  but  from  cuf- 
tom,    mitation,  or  fome  peculiarity  of  mind. 

Nature,  in  her  fcale  of  pleafures,  has  been  fparing 
of  divifions :  fhe  hath  w'ifely  and  benevolently  filled  e- 
very  divilion  with  many  pleafures  ;  in  order  that  indi- 
viduals may  be  contented  with  their  own  lot,  without 
envying  that  of  others.  Many  hands  niuft  be  employ'J 
to  procure  us  the  conveniencies  uf  life  ;  and  it  is  ne- 
ceiFary  that  the  different  branches  of  bufinefs,  whether 
more  or  lefs  agreeable,  be  filled  with  hands:  a  taffe  too 
refined,  would  obffruQ  that  plan;  for  it  would  crowd 
fome  employments,  leaving  others,  not  lefs  ufeful,  to- 
tally neglefted.  In  our  prefent  condition,  lucky  it  is, 
that  the  plurality  are  not  delicate  in  their  choice,  but 
fall  in  readily  with  the  occupations,  pleafures,  food, 
and  company,  that  fortune  throws  in  their  way;  and  if 
at  ft; ft  there  be  any  difpleafing  circumftance,  cuftoni 
foon  makes  it  eafy. 

The  proverb  will  hold  true  as  to  the  particulars  now- 
explained  ;  but  when  apply'd  in  general  to  every  fub- 
je£t  of  taffe,  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered  are  in- 
fuperable.  We  need  mention  no  other  but  the  difficul- 
ty that  aiifes  from  human  nature  itfelf  ?  do  we  not  talk 
of  a  good  and  a  bad  tafte.''  of  a  right  and  a  wrong  tatle? 
and  upon  that  fuppofuion,  do  we  not,  with  great  con- 
fidence, cenfure  writers,  painters,  architeiSts,  and  eve- 
ry one  who  deals  in  the  fine  arts  ?  Are  fuch  criticifms 
ablurii,  and  void  of  common  fenfe  .''  have  the  forego- 
ing exprellions,  familiar  in  all  languages  and  among  all 
people,  no  fort  of  meaning?  This  can  hardly  be  ;  for 

what 


314  Standard  of  Taste.       Ch.  XXV. 

what  is  univerfal,  muft  have  a  foundation  in  nature.  If 
we  can  reach  that  foundation,  the  ftandard  of  tafte  will 
no  longer  be  a  fecret. 

We  have  a  fenfe  or  convidlion  of  a  common  nature, 
not  only  in  our  own  fpecies,  but  in  every  fpecies  of  a- 
nimals:  and  our  conviflion  is  verified  by  experience; 
for  there  appears  a  remarkable  uniforniity  among  crea- 
tures of  the  fame  kind,  and  a  deformity  not  iefs  re- 
markal)le  among  creatures  of  diflerent  kinds.  This 
common  nature  is  conceived  to  be  a  model  or  ftandard 
for  each  individual  that  belongs  to  the  kind.  Hence  it 
is  a  iDatter  of  wonder,  to  find  an  individual  deviating 
from  the  common  nature  of  the  fpecies,  whether  in  its 
interna!  or  external  conflruflion  ;  a  child  born  with  a- 
verfion  to  its  mother's  milk,  is  a  wonder,  not  Iefs  than 
if  born  without  a  nioiuh,  or  \vith  more  thnn  one  *. 
This  conviiflion  of  a  common  nature  in  every  fpecies, 
paves  the  way  finely  for  diflributing  things  \n\.o  genera 
and  fpacies ;  to  vi'hich  we  are  extremely  prone,  not  on- 
ly with  regard  to  animals,  and  perhaps  vegetables,  where 
nature  has  led  the  way,  but  alfo  with  regard  to  many 
other  things  where  there  is  no  ground  for  fuch  difttibu- 
tion,  but  fancy  merely. 

Vvich  refpeft  to  the  common  nature  of  man,  in  par- 
ticular, we  have  a  convidlion  that  it  is  invariable  not 
Iefs  than  univerfal ;  that  it  will  be  the  fame  hereafter 
as  at  prefent,  and  as  it  was  in  time  pafi: ;  the  fame  a- 
mong  all  nations  and  in  all  corners  of  the  earth.  Nor 
are  we  deceived;  becaufe,  giving  allou'ance  for  the  dif- 
ference of  culture  and  gradual  refinement  of  manners, 
the  fad  correfponds  to  our  convitlion. 

We  are  fo  conflituted  as  to  conceive  that  this  com- 
mon nature,  is  not  only  invariable,  but  alfo  perfed  or 
right  ;  and  conlequently  that  indiviuuals  ought  to  be 
made  conformable  to  it.  Every  remarkable  deviation 
from  the  ftandard,  makes  acccrdi.igly  an  impreilion  up- 
on us  ot  imperfection,  irregularity,  or  diforder  :  it  is 
difagreeable,  and  raifes  in  us  a  painlul  emotion  :  mon- 
itrous  birth?,  exciting   the  curiofity  of  a  philofopher, 

fail 

*  See  eflays  on  molality  and  natural  religion,  part  1. 
effay  2.  ch.  i. 


Ch,  XXV.       Standard  OF  Taste.  315 

fail  not  at  the  tame  time  to  excite  averfion  in  a  high 
degree. 

This  coiiviftion  of  a  common  nature  or  ftandard,  and 
of  its  perfection,  accounts  clearly  for  that  remarkable 
conception  we  have,  of  a  right  and  a  wrong  fenfe  or 
tafte  in  morals.  It  accounts  not  lefs  clearly  for  the  con- 
ception we  have  of  a  right  and  a  wrong  fenfe  or  tafte 
in  the  fine  arts.  A  man  who  reje£ls  objefts  generally 
agreeable,  and  delights  in  objects  generally  difagreeable, 
is  condemned  as  a  monfter :  we  difapprove  his  tafte  as 
bad  or  wrong,  becaufe  we  have  a  clear  conception  that 
he  deviates  from  the  common  ftandard.  If  man  were 
fo  framed  as  not  to  have  any  notion  of  a  common  ftand- 
ard, the  proverb  mentioned  in  the  beginning  would  hold 
univerfally,  not  only  in  the  fine  arts,  tut  in  morals: 
upon  that  fuppofition,  the  tafte  of  every  man,  with  ref- 
pe<Sl  to  both,  would  to  himfelf  be  an  ultimate  ftandard. 
But  as  the  conviftion  of  a  common  ftandard  is  univer- 
fal,  and  a  branch  of  our  nature,  we  intuitively  conceive 
a  tafte  to  be  right  or  good  if  conformable  to  the  com- 
mon ftandard,  and  wrong  or  bad  if  difconformable. 

No  particular  in  human  nature  is  more  univerfal, 
than  the  uneafinefs  a  man  teels  when  in  matters  of  im- 
portance his  opinions  are  rejeded  by  others  :  why  ihould 
difference  in  opinion  create  uneafmefs,  more  than  diff^er- 
ence  in  ftature,  in  countenance,  or  in  drefs.''  The  con- 
viiftion  of  a  common  ftandard  explains  the  myftery  : 
every  man,  generally  fpeaking,  taking  it  for  granted 
that  his  opinions  agree  v.'ith  the  common  fenfe  of  man- 
kind, is  therefore  difgufted  with  thofe  who  think  differ- 
ently, not  as  diiFering  from  him,  but  as  differing  from 
the  common  ftandard :  hence  in  all  difputes,  we  find  the 
parties,  each  of  them  equally,  appealing  conftantly  to 
the  common  fenie  of  mankind  as  the  ultimate  rule  or 
ftandard.  With  rcfpetSt  to  points  arbitrary  or  indiffer- 
ent, vvhich  are  not  fuppofed  to  be  regulated  by  any 
ftandard,  individuals  are  permitted  to  think  for  them- 
felves  with  impunity  :  the  fame  liberty  is  not  indulged 
with  refpetl  to  points  that  are  reckoned  of  moment ; 
for  what  reafon,  other  than  that  the  ftandard  by  which 
thefe  are  regulated,  ought,  as  we  judge,  to  produce 
an  uniformity  of  opinion  in  all  men?  In  a  word,  to  this 

Vol.  II.  O  conviaion 


3i6  Standard  of  Taste.      Ch.  XXV. 

convlflion  of  a  common  ftandard  muft  be  wholly  attri- 
buted the  pleafure  we  take  in  thofe  who  efpoufe  the 
fame  principles  and  opinions  with  ourfelves,  as  well  as 
the  averfion  we  have  at  thofe  who  differ  from  us.  In 
matters  left  indifferent  by  the  ftandard,  we  find  nothin^^ 
of  the  fame  pleafure  or  pain  :  a  bookifh  man,  unlets 
fway'd  by  convenience,  relifheth  not  the  contemplative 
man  more  than  the  aftive  ;  his  friends  and  companions 
are  chofen  indifferently  out  of  either  clafs  :  a  painter 
conforts  with  a  poet  or  mulician,as  readily  as  with  thofe 
of  his  own  art  ;  and  one  is  not  the  more  agreeable  to 
me  for  loving  beef,  as  I  do,  nor  the  lefs  agreeable  for 
preferring  mutton. 

I  have  ventured  to  fay,  that  my  difguft  is  raifed,  not 
by  differing  from  me,  but  by  differing  from  what  I  judge 
to  be  the  common  llandard.     This  point,  being  of  im- 
portance, ought   to   be   firmly   eftablifhed       Men,  it    is 
true,  are  prone  to  flatter  themfelves,  by  taking  it  for 
granted  that  their  opinions  and  their  talle  are  in  all  re- 
Tpedts  conformable  to  the  common  ftandard;  but  there 
may  be  exceptions,  and  experience  fhows  there  are  fome  : 
there   are   inftances   without    number,  of    perfons  who 
ding  to  the  groffer  amufements  of  gaming,  eating,  drink- 
ing, without  having  any  relifh  for  the  more  elegant  plea- 
fures,  fuch,  for  example,  as  are   afforded    by  the   fine 
arts  ;  yet  thefe  very  perfons,  talking  the  fame  language 
with  the  reft  of  mankind,  pronounce  in  favour  of  the 
more  elegant  pleafures  ;    and   they  invariably   approve 
tiiofe  who  have  a  more  refined  tafte,  being  afhamed  of 
their  own  as  low  and  fenfual.     It  is  in  vain  to  thiijk  of 
giving  a  reafon  for  this  fingular  impartiality,  other  than 
the  authority  of  the  coiiimon  ftandard  with   refpeft  to 
the  dignity  of  human  nature*:  and  from  the  inftances 
now   given    we    difcover,  that    the    authority    of   that 
ftandard,  even  upon  the  moft  groveling  fouls,  is  fo  vi- 
gorous, as  to  prevail   over  fdf- partiality,  and  to  make 
them  defpife  their  own   tafte  compared  with  the  more 
elevated  tafte  of  others. 

Uniformity  of  tafte  and  fcntiment  refulting  from  our 
convidion  of  a  common  ftandard,  leads  to  two  impor- 
tant 

*  See  chap.  1 1. 


Ch.  XXV.      Standard  of  Taste.  317 

"tant  final  caufes ;  the  one  refpedling  our  dut^,  the  other 
our  paftime.  Barely  to  mention  the  firft  ftall  be  fuffi- 
cieiu,  becaufe  it  does  not  properly  belong  to  the  pre- 
fent  undertaking.  Unhappy  it  would  be  for  us  did  not 
this  uniformity  prevail  In  morals  :  that  our  adtions  fhould 
uniformly  be  directed  to  what  is  good  and  againft  what 
is  ill,  is  the  greateft  blelllng  in  fociety  ;  and  in  order  to 
uniformity  of  adtion,  uniformity  of  opinion  and  fenti- 
ment  is  indifpenfable. 

With  refpeft  to  pallime  in  general,  and  the  fine  arts 
in  particular,  the  final  caufe  of  uniformity  is  illuftrious. 
Uniformity  of  talle  gives  opportunity  for  fumptuous 
and  elegant  buildings,  for  fine  gardens,  and  extenlive 
embellifliments,  which  pleafe  univerfally:  and  the  rea- 
fon  is,  that  without  uniformity  of  talte,  there  could 
not  be  any  fuitable  reward,  either  of  profit  or  honour, 
to  encourage  men  of  genius  to  labour  in  fuch  works, 
and  to  advance  them  toward  perfedtion.  The  fame  u- 
niformity  of  tafte  is  equally  necefTary  to  perfed  the  arts 
of  mufic,  fculpture,  and  painting;  and  to  fupport  the 
expence  they  require  after  they  are  brought  to  perfec- 
tion. Nature  is  in  every  particular  conllllent  with  her- 
felt  :  we  are  framed  by  Nature  to  have  a  high  relifh 
for  the  fine  arts,  which  are  a  great  fource  of  happinefs, 
and  extremely  friendly  to  virtue:  we  are,  at  the  fame 
time,  framed  with  uniformity  of  tafte,  to  furnifh  pro- 
per objeQs  for  that  high  relilh  j  and  if  uniformity  did 
not  prevail,  the  fine  arts  could  never  have  made  any 
figure. 

And  this  fuggefts  another  final  caufe,  not  lefs  illu- 
ftrious. The  feparation  of  men  into  different  clafTes, 
by  birth,  office,  or  occupation,  however  necefTary,  tends 
to  relax  the  connexion  that  ought  to  be  among  mem- 
bers of  the  fame  ftate  ;  which  bad  effedt  is  in  forae 
meafure  prevented  by  the  accefs  all  ranks  of  people 
have  to  public  fpedacles,  and  to  amufements  that  are 
beft  enjoy'd  in  company.  Such  meetings,  where  every 
one  partakes  of  the  fame  pleafures  in  common,  are  no 
flight  fupport  to  the  focial  atfedions. 

Thus,  upon  a  conviction  common  to  the  fpecies,  is 

ereded  a  ftandard  of  tafte,  which  without  hefitation  is 

apply'd  to  the  tafte  of  every  individual.     That  ftand- 

O  z  ardj 


3i8  Standard  of  Taste.      Ch.  XXV. 

ard,  afcertaining  what  aftlons  are  ricr'it  what  wrong, 
what  proper  what  improper,  hath  enab'ed  nioralifts  to 
eftablifh  rules  for  our  condufl  from  wluch  no  perfon  is 
allow'd  to  fwerve.  We  have  the  fame  ftcndard  for  af- 
certaining in  all  the  fine  arts,  Vv^hat  is  beautiful  or  ugly, 
high  or  low,  proper  or  improper,  proportioned  or  dif- 
proportioned  :  and  here,  as  in  morals,  we  jullly  con- 
demn every  tafte  that  deviates  from  what  is  thus  afcer- 
tained  by  the  common  ftandard. 

That  there  exifts  a  rule  or  ftandard  in  nature  for  try- 
ing the  tafte  of  individuals,  in   tlie  fine  arts  as   w^el!  as 
in  morals,  is  a  difcovery;  but  is  not  fufficient  to  com- 
plete the  talk  undertakes.     A  branch  rtill  more  impor- 
tant remains   upon  hand  ;  which  is,  to  afcertain  what 
is   truly   the  ftandard   of  nature,   that   we  may  not  lie 
open  to  have  a  falfe  ftandard  inipofed  on  us      But  what 
means  fliall  be  employ 'd  for  bringing  to  light  this  natu- 
ral ftandard  ?  This  is  not  obvious  :  for  when  we  have 
recourfe  to  general   opinions  and  general  praflice,  we 
are  betray 'd  into  endlefs  perplexities.     Hiftory  informs 
us,  that  nothing  is  more  variable  than   tafte  in  th.'  fine 
arts  :  judgirg  by  numbers,  the  Gothic   tafte  ot  archi- 
te(5ture  muft  be  preferred  before  that  of  Greece,  and 
the  Chiaefe  tafte  probably  before  cither :  it  would  be 
endlefs  to  recount  the  various  taftes  that  have  prevailed 
in  difterent  ages  with  refpedt  to  gardening,  ai  d  ftiU  pre- 
vail   in  diffeient   countries:    defpifing    the    modeft   co- 
louring   of  nature,  women    of  fafliion  in  France  daub 
their  cheeks    with  a    red  powder  :    nay,  an   unnatural 
fwelling  in  the  neck,  peculiar  to  the  inhal  iri-.nis  of  the 
Alps,  is  reliftied  by  that  people.      But  we  ought  not  to 
be  difcouraged  with  fuch  untoward  inftances,  when  we 
find  not  greater  unifounity  in   moral   op  iiioi:s  .   was  it 
not  among  fome  nations  held  lawful   tor  a  man  to  icll 
his  children  for  ft.ives,  to  expofe  them  in  their  infancy 
to  wild  beafts,  and  to  punifli  them  for  the  criiv.e  of  their 
parents  ?  was  any  thing  more  common  than  to  murder 
an  enemy  in  cold   blood  ?  nay  more,  did   not  law  once 
authorife  the  abominable  pradice  of  human  facrifices, 
not  bfs  inipious  than  immoral  ?■  Such  aberrations  from 
the  rifles  of  morality  prove  only,  that  men,  originally 
farage  and  brutal,  acquire  not  rationality  nor   any  de- 
licacy 


Ch.  XXV.       Standard  of  Taste.  319 

licacy  of  tafte  till  they  be  long  difciplined  in  fociety. 
To  afcertain  the  rules  of  morality,  we  appeal  not  to 
the  connnon  fenfe  of  favages,  but  of  men  in  their  more 
perfeft  flate  :  and  we  make  the  fame  appeal  in  forming 
the  rules  that  ought  to  govern  the  fine  arts  :  in  neither 
can  we  fafely  rely  on  a  local  or  tranfitory  tafte  ;  but  on 
wh.it  is  the  moft  univerfal  and  the  moft  lafting  among 
polite  nations. 

In  this  very  manner,  a  ftandard  for  morals  has  been 
afcertained  with  a  good  deal  of  accuracy,  and  is  daily 
apply'd  by  able  judges  with  general  fatisfadion.  The 
ftandard  of  tafte  in  the  fine  arts,  is  not  yet  brought  to 
fuch  perfedion  ;  and  we  can  account  for  its  flower  pro- 
grefs.  The  fenfe  of  right  and  wrong  in  actions  is  vivid 
and  diflin£t,  becaiife  its  obje£ts  are  clearly  diftinguifh- 
able  from  each  other ;  whereas  the  fenfe  of  right  and 
wrong  in  the  fine  arts  is  faint  and  wavering,  becaufe  its 
ohjeds  are  commonly  not  fo  clearly  dillinguifliable  from 
each  other.  And  there  appears  to  me  a  Itriking  final 
caufe  in  thus  diiiinguilTiing  the  moral  fenfe  from  the  fenfe 
of  right  and  wrong  in  the  fine  arts.  The  former,  as  a 
rule  of  conduct,  and  as  a  law  we  ought  to  obey,  mult 
be  clear  and  authoritative.  The  latter  is  not  intitled  to 
the  (ume  privilege,  becaufe  it  contributes  to  our  plea- 
lue  and  amufenient  only  :  were  it  ftrong  and  lively,  it 
would  ufurp  upon  our  duty,  and  call  off  the  attention 
frcn  matter.s  of  greater  moment:  were  it  clear  and  au- 
thoritative, it  would  banilh  all  difference  of  tafte,  leav- 
ing no  ditlifidlion  between  a  refined  talle  and  one  that  is 
not  fo  ;  wlrich  would  put  an  end  to  rivalftiip,  and  con- 
fequenrly  to  all  improvement. 

out  to  return  to  our  fubjift  :  However  languid  and 
cloudy  the  common  fenfe  ot  mankind  may  be  as  to  the 
fine  arts,  it  is  noiwithftinding  the  only  ftandard  in  thefe 
as  well  as  in  morals.  True  it  is  indeed,  that  in  gather- 
ing the  commo.i  lenfe  of  mankind,  more  circumfpeftion 
is  requifite  wicn  lefpeft  to  the  fine  arts  than  with  refpeft 
to  morals:  upon  the  latter,  any  perfon  may  be  confult- 
ed  J  but  as  to  the  former,  a  wary  choice  is  neceffary^ 
for  to  colleft  votes  indifferently  would  certainly  iniflead 
us.  Thole  vAio  depend  for  food  on  bodily  labour,  are 
totally  void  of  tafte  j  of  fuch  a  tafte  at  leaft  as  can  be 
O  3  of 


323  Standard  of  Taste..      Ch.  XXV. 

of  ufe  in  the  fine  arts.  This  confideration  bars  the 
greater  part  of  mankind  ;  and  of  the  remaining  part, 
many  by  a  corrupted  talle  are  unqualified  for  voting. 
Tbe  common  fenfe  of  mankind  muft  then  be  confined 
to  the  few  that  fall  not  under  thefe  exceptions.  But 
•as  fuch  feleflion  feems  to  throw  "latters  again  into  un- 
certainty, we  rauft  be  more  explicit  upon  this  branch 
of  our  fubjedt. 

Nothing  tends  more  than  voluptuoufnefs  to  corrupt 
the  whole  internal  frame,  and  to  vitiate  our  tafte,  not 
only  in  the  fine  arts,  but  even  in  morals:  voluptuouf- 
nefs  never  fails,  in  courfe  of  time,  to  extinguilli  all  the 
fympathetic  affedions,  and  to  bring  on  a  bealtly  felfilli- 
nel's,  which  leaves  nothing  of  man  but  the  fhape  :  about 
excluding  fuch  perfons  there  will  be  no  difpute.  Let 
us  nest  bring  under  trial,  the  opulent  who  delight  in 
expence  :  riches  roufe  the  appetite  for  fuperiority  and 
refpeft  J  which  in  that  cafe  is  vented  upon  coftly  fur- 
niture, numerous  attendants,  a  princely  dwelling,  fun)p- 
tuous  feafts,  every  thing  fuperb  and  gorgeous,  to  amaze 
and  humble  all  beholders:  fimplicity,  elegance,  proprie- 
ty, aivJ  things  natural,  fweet,  or  amiable,  are  defpifed 
or  neg'efted  ;  for  thefe  are  not  appropriated  to  the  rich, 
nor  make  a  figure  in  the  public  eye  ;  in  a  word,  nothing 
is  reliflied,  but  what  ferves  to  gratify  pride,  by  an  ima- 
ginary exaltation  of  the  poffefTor  above  thofe  who  fur- 
round  him.  Such  fentiments  contraQ  the  heart,  and 
make  every  principle  give  way  to  lelf-love  :  benevolence 
and  public  fpirit,  with  all  their  refined  emotions,  are 
little  felt,  and  lefs  regarded  j  and  if  thefe  be  excluded,, 
there  can  be  no  place  for  the  faint  and  delicate  emoti- 
ons of  the  fine  arts. 

The  exclufion  of  clafles  fo  many  and  numerous,  re- 
duces within  a  narrow  compafs  thoie  who  are  qualified 
to  be  judges  in  the  fine  arts.  Many  ciicuniflances  are 
neceffary  to  form  fuch  a-judge:  there  muft  be  a  good 
natural  tafte  ;  that  is,  a  talle  approaching,  at  leaft  in 
fome  degree,  ,to  the  delicacy  of  talte  above  defcribed  ♦  : 
that   talte  muft  be   improved  by  education,  reflection,., 

and. 


*  Chap.  2.  part  2. 


Ch.  XXV.       Standard  of  Taste.  321 

and  experience  * :  ic  mull:  be  preferved  alive  in  a  re- 
gular courfe  of  life,  by  ufing  the  goods  of  fortune  with 
moderation,  and  by  following  the  didtates  of  improved 
nature,  which  give  welcome- to  every  rational  pleafure 
without  deviating  into  excefs.  This  is  the  tenor  of  life 
which  of  all  contributes  the  moft  to  refinement  of  tafte  ; 
and  the  fame  tenor  of  life  contributes  the  moft  to  hap- 
pinefs  in  general. 

If  there  appear  much  uncertainty  in  a  ftandard  that 

requires  fo  painful  and  intricate  a  feledtion,  we   may 

poflibly  be  reconciled  to  it  by  the  following  confidera- 

O  4  tion, 

*  That  thefe  particulars  are  ufeful,  it  may  be  faid  ne- 
ceffary,  for  acquiring  a  difcerning  tafte  in  the  fine  arts, 
will  appear  from  the  following  fafts,  which  (how  the  in- 
fluence of  experience  fingly,  Thofe  who  live  in  the 
world  and  in  good  company,  are  quick  fighted  with  re- 
fpe£l  to  every  defeQ  or  irregularity  in  behaviour  :  the 
very  flighteft  Angularity  in  motion,  in  fpeech,  or  in  drefs, 
which  to  a  peafant  would  be  invifible,  efcapes  not  their 
obfervation.  The  moft  minute  differences  in  the  human 
countenance,  fo  minute  as  to  be  far  beyond  the  reach 
of  words,  aie  diftindlly  perceived  by  the  plaineft  perfon  j 
while,  at  the  fame  time,  the  generality  have  very  little 
difcernment  in  the  faces  of  other  animals  to  which  they 
are  lefs  accutlomed  :  Iheep,  for  example,  appear  to  have 
all  the  fame  face,  except  to  the  fhepherd,  v/ho  knows 
every  individual  in  his  flock,  as  he  does  his  relations  and 
neighbours.  The  very  populace  in  Athens  were  critics 
in  language,  in  pronunciation,  and  even  in  eloquence, 
harangues  being  their  daily  entertainment,  Tn  Rome,  ac 
prefent,,the  niult  illiterate  fhopkeeper  is  a  better  judge 
of  ftatues  and  of  pictures,  than  perfons  of  the  higheft 
education  in  London.  Thefe  facts  atford  convincing  evi- 
dence, that  a  difcerning  tafte  depends  ftill  more  on  expe- 
rience than  on  nature.  But  thefe  fatSts  merit  peculiar  re- 
gard for  another  reafon,  that  they  open  to  us  a  fure  me- 
thod for  improving  our  tafte  in  the  fine  arts  ;  which, 
with  refpetl  to  thole  who  have  leifuie  for  improvements, 
ought  to  be  a  powerful  incitement  to  cultivate  a  tafte  ia 
thele  arts :  an  occupation  that  cannot  fail  to  embellilh 
Jheir  manners,  and  to  fweeten  fociety. 


322  Standard  of  Taste.       Ch.  XXV. 

tion,  That,  with  refpefl  to  the  fine  arts,  there  is  lef» 
difference  of  tafte  than  is  commonly  imagined.  Nature 
hath  marked  all  her  works  with  indelible  charafters-of 
high  or  low,  plain  or  elegant,  Rrong  or  weak:  tliefe.  if 
at  all  perceived,  are  feldom  niifapprehended  ;  and  the 
fame  marks  are  equally  perceptible  in  works  of  art.  A 
defeftive  talle  is  incurable;  and  it  hurts  none  but  the 
pofleflbr,  becaufe  it  carries  no  authority  to  impofe  upon 
others.  I  know  not  if  there  be  fuch  a  thing  as  a  tafte 
naturally  bad  or  wrong ;  a  tafte,  for  example,  that  pre- 
fers a  groveling  pieafure  before  one  that  is  high  and  ele- 
gant:  groveling  pleafures  are  never  preferred;  they  are 
only  made  welcome  by  thofe  who  know  no  better.  Dif- 
ferences about  objefts  of  talte,  it  is  true,  are  endlefs  : 
but  they  generally  concern  trifles,  or  pcflibly  matters  of 
equal  rank,  where  preference  niay  be  given  eiiher  way 
with  impunity:  if,  on  any  occafion,  perfons  differ  where 
they  ought  not,  a  depraved  tafte  will  readily  be  difco- 
vered  on  one  or  other  fide,  occafioned  by  imitation, 
cuftom,  or  corrupted  manners,  fuch  as  are  defcribed  a- 
bove.  And  confidering  that  every  individual  partakes 
of  a  common  nature,  what  is  there  that  fliould  occafion 
any  wide  difference  in  talle  or  fentiment.''  By  the  prin- 
ciples thrtt  conflitute  the  fenfitive  part  of  our  nature,  a. 
■wonderful  uniformity  is  preferved  in  the  emotions  and 
feelings  of  the  different  races  of  men  j  the  fame  obje£b 
making  upon  every  perfon  the  fame  nnpreflion,  the  fame 
in  kind,  if  not  in  degree.  There  have  been,  as  above 
obferved,  aberrations  from  thefe  principles  ;  but  foon 
or  late  they  prevail,  and  reftore  the  wanderer  to  the 
light  road. 

And  this  leads  to  the  only  remaining  mean  that  oc- 
curs to  me  for  afcertaining  the  common  fenfe  of  man- 
kind ;  and  let  it  be  obferved,  that  I  throw  it  out,  not 
in  defpair,  but  in  great  confidence  of  fuccefs.  As  the 
tafte  of  every  individual  ought  to  be  governed  by  the 
principles  above  mentioned,  an  appeal  to  thele  princi- 
ples muft  neceffarily  be  dec'five  of  eveiy  controverfy 
that  can  arife  upon  matters  of  tafte.  In  general,  every 
doubt  with  relation  to  the'  common  ienfe  of  man,  or 
ilandard  of  tafte,  may  be  cleared  by  the  fame  appeal  ;.• 
and  to  unfold  thefe  principles  is  the  declared  purpofc' 
of  the  prefent  undertaking.  A  P-- 


Terms  defined,  l^c.  313, 

APPENDIX, 

Terms   defined   or.  explained. 

1.  TTT^Very  thing  we  perceive  or  are  confcious  of, 
_|jy  whether  n  being  or  a  quality,  a  paflion  or  an 
aOioii,  is  with  refpeQ  to  rhe  percipient  termed  an  ohje(^. 
Some  objedls  appear  to  be  internal,  or  within  the  mind; 
paflion,  for  example,  thinking,  volition:  fome  external; 
fuch  as  every  objed  of  fight,  of  hearing,  of  fmell,  of 
touch,  of  talle. 

2.  That  a«£t  of  the  mind  which  makes  known  to  me 
an  external  object,  is  termed  perception.  That  a6t  of 
the  mind  which  makes  known  to  me  an  internal  objefl, 
is  termed  cjnfcioufnefs.  The  power  or  faculry  from 
which  confcioufnefs  proceeds,  is  termed  an  internal 
Jenfe.  The  power  or  faculty  from  which  perception 
proceeds,  is  termed  an  exienud  Jenfe .  This  diftinftion 
refers  to  the  objects  of  our  knowledge  ;  for  the  fenfes, 
whether  external  or  internal,  are  all  of  them  powers  or 
faculties  of  the  mind. 

3.  But  as  felf  is  an  object  that  cannot  be  termed  ei. 
ther  external  or  internal,  the  faculty  by  which  I  have 
knowledge  of  myfelf,  is  a  fenle  that  cannot  properly  be 
termed  either  internal  or  external. 

4.  By  the  eye  we  perceive  figure,  colour,  motion, 
l^c. :  by  the  ear  we  perceive  the  ditferent  qualities  of 
found,  high,  low,  loud,  foft :  by  touch  we  perceive 
rough,  fmooth,  hot,  cold,  l^c. :  by  tafte  we  perceive 
fweet,  four,  bit:er,  l£c  :  by  fuiell  we  perceive  fragrant, 
fetid,  fjfc.  Thei'e  qualities  partake  the  common  nature 
of  all  qualities,  that  they  are  not  capable  of  an  inde- 
pendent exiftence,  but  mull:  belong  to  fome  being  of 
which  they  are  properties.  A  being  with  relpect  to  its 
qualities  is  term'^d  ^.fubied,  or  fubjlratum ;  becaufe  it 
fuppofts  its  qualiries,  whch  are  fpread,  as  it  were,  up- 
on it.  Every  fuhllratum  of  vifible  qualities,  is  termed 
fiihUarce,  and  of  tangible  qualities,  body, 

5  Su'^l^ance  and  found  are  perceived  exiftintr  at' a 
didaiice  uom  the  organ  ;  often  at  a  confi.ierab!^  diltance. 
But  fmell,  touch,  and  tade,  are  perceived  as  exilting 
at  the  organ  of  fenfe. 

O  5  6.  AH 


324  Terms  defined 

6.  AH  the  objects  of  internal  fenfe  are  attribufed  : 
witnefs  deliberation,  reafoning,  refolution,  willing,  con- 
fenting,  which  are  internal  actions  ;  as  alfo  pailions  and 
emotions,  which  are  internal  agitations.  With  regard 
to  the  former,  I  am  confcious  of  being  active;  withi 
regard  to  the  latter,  I  am  confcious  of  being  paflive. 

7.  Again,,  we  are  confcious  of  internal  action  as  in 
the  head  ;  of  paflloiis  and  emotions  as  in  the  heart. 

8.  Many  actions  may  be  exerted  internally,  and  ma- 
ny effects  produced,  of  which  we  are  not  confcious  : 
when  we  inveftigate  the  ultimate  caufe  of  the  motion  of 
the  blood,  and  of  other  internal  motions  upon   which- 
life  depends,  it  is  the  moft  probable  opinion  that  fome- 
internal  power  is  the  caufe;  and  if  fo,  v/e  are   fo  far 
unconfcious  of  the  operations  of  that  power.    But  con- 
fcioufnefs  being  imply'd  in  the  very  meaning  of  delibe-- 
rating,  reafoning,    refolving,  willing,  confenting,    fuch 
operations  cannot  efcape  our  knowledge..    The  fame  is. 
the  cafe  of  paflions  and  emotioiis  ;  for  no  internal  agi- 
tation is  denominated  a   paffion  or  emotion,  but  what; 
we  are  confcious  of. 

9.  The  mind  is  not  always  the  fame  :  by  turns  it  is. 
chearful,  melancholy,  calm,  peevifh,  ijfc.     Thefe  dif- 
ferences may  not  improperly  be  denominated  tones.     An 
object,  by  making  an  imprellion,  produceth  an  emotioni 
or  paffion,  which  again  gives  the  mind  a  certain  tonej 
•fuited  to  it. 

10.  Perception  and  fenfation- are  commody  reckoned 
fynonymous  terms,  fignifying  that  internal  act  by  which> 
external  objects  are  made  known  to  us.     Percei'uing  is 
a  general   term  for  bearing,  feeing,  tailing,  touching,, 
fmelling  ;  and   therefore /^^rrf/z/cw  llgniries  every  inter-- 
nal  act  oy  which  we  are  made  acquainted  with  external, 
objects :  thus  we  are  faid  to  perceive  a  certain  animal,, 
a   certain   colour,  found,   tafte,  fmell,  tffr.      Senfaiion 
properly  fignifies  that  internal  act  by  which  we  are  made 
confcious  of  pleafure  or  pain  felt  at  the  organ  of  fenfe: 
thus  we  have  a  fenfation  of  the  pleafure  arifing  from 
warmth,  from  a  fragrant  fmell,  from  a  iweet  tafte ;  and 
of  the  pain  arifing  from  a   wound,  from  a  fetid  fmell, 
from  a  difagreeable  tatle.     In  perception,  my  attention. 
is  fixed  upon  the  external  object :  in  fenfation,  it  is  fixed 
»pon-tbe  pleafure. or  p^ain  1  fed..  The- 


OR    EXPLAINED.  325 

The  terms  perception  and  fenfatlon  are  fomelimes 
employ'd  to  fignify  the  objects  of  perception  and  fenfa- 
tion.  Perception  in  that  fenfe  is  a  general  term  for  e- 
Tery  external  thing  we  perceive  ;  and  fenfation  a  gene- 
ral term  for  every  pleafure  and  pain  felt  at  the  organ  of. 
fenfe. 

11.  Conception  is  dilTerent  from  perception.  The* 
latter  includes  a  conviction  of  the  reality  of  its  object  i 
the  former  does  not  ;  for  I  can  conceive  the  moll  ex- 
travagant llories  told  in  a  romance,  without  having  any 
conviction  of  their  reality  Conception  dift'ers  alfo  from 
imagination.  By  the  power  of  fancy  I  can  imagine  a 
golden  mountain,  or  an  ebony  fhip  with  fails  and  ropes 
of  filk.  vVhen  1  defcribe  a  picture  of  that  kind  to  a- 
nother,  the  idea  he  forms  of  it  is  termed  a  conception. 
Imagination  is  active,  conception  is  palFive. 

12.  Feeling,  befide  denoting  one  of  the  external 
fenfes,  is  a  general  term,  fignify ing  that  internal  act  hy 
which  we  are  made  cnnfcious  of  our  pleafures  and  our 
pains;  for  it  is  not  limited,  as  fenfation  is,  to  any  one 
ibrt.  Thus,  feeling  being  the  genus  of  which  fenfation 
is  a  fpecies,  their  meaning  is  the  fame  when  applj'd  to 
pleafure  and  pain  felt  at  the  organ  of  iin(Q ;  and  ac- 
cordingly we  fay  indifferently,  "  I  feel  pleafure  from 
"  heax,  and  pain  from  cold,"  or,  "  I  have  a  fenfation 
"  of  pleafure  from  heat,  and  of  pain  from  cold,"     But 

')e  meaning  of  feeling,  as  is  faid,  is  much  more  ex- 
icnfive  :  it  is  proper  to  fay,  I  feel  pleafure  in  a  fump- 
tuous  building,  in  love,  in  tiiendlhip  ;  and  pain  in  lofing 
a  child,  in  revenge,  in  envy  :  fenfacion  is  not  properly 
apply'd  to  any  of  thefe. 

The  term  feeling  is  frequently  ufed  in  a  lefs  proper 
fenfe  to  fignify  what  we  feel  or  are  confcious  of ;  and 
in  that  fenfe  it  is  a  general  term  for  all  our  pailions  and 
emotions,  and  for  all  our  other  pleafures  and  pains. 

13.  That  w«  cannot  perceive  an  external  objeft  till 
a,n  impreflion  be  made  upon  our  body,  is  probable  from 
reafon,  and  is  afcertained  by  experience.  But  it  is  not 
neceffary  that  we  be  made  fenfible  of  the  impreflion  i 
in  touching,  it  is  true,  in  tailing,  and  in  fmelling,  we 
are  fenfible  of  the  impreffion  j  but  not  in  feeing  and 
hearing.  We  know  indeed  from  experiments,,  that  be- 
fore: 


326  Terms  defined 

fore  we  perceive  a  vifible  objeft,  its  image  is  fpicad? 
upon  the  retina  tunica;  and  that  before  we  perceive  a 
found,  an  iriiprefiiod  is  made  upon  the  drum  of  the  ear : 
but  wc  are  not  ccrfcious  either  of  the  organic  image  or 
of  the  orgar^ie  imprelHjn  ;  nor  are  we  confcious  ot  any 
other  operation  preparatory  to  the  aft  of  perception: 
all  we  can  fay,  is,  that  we  fee  that  river,  or  hear  that 
trumpet  *, 

_»4.  Objeds  once  perceived  may  be  recalled  to  the 
iHind  by  the  power  of  memory.  When  I  recall  an  ob-. 
jeft  of  fight  in  that  manner,  it  appears  to  me  precifely. 
the  fame  as  in  the  original  furvey,  only  more  faint  and 
obfcure.  For  example,  having  feen  yefterdcy  a  fpread- 
ing  oak  growing  on  the  brink  of  a  river,  I  endeavour  to 
recall  thefe  objects  to  my  mind.  How  is  this  operation 
performed  ?  Do  1  endeavour  to  form  in  my  mind  a  pic- 
ture of  thera  or  reprefentative  image  ?  No;  io.  I  tran- 
port  myfelf  ideally  to  the  place  where  I  faw  the  tree  and 
river  yefterday  j  upon  which  I  have  a  perception  of  thefe 
objects,  fimilar  in  all  refpects  to  the  perception  I  had 
when  I  viewed  them  with  my  eye?,  only  more  obfcure. 
And  in  this  recollection,  lam  not  confcious  of  a  pic-- 
ture  or  reprefentative  image,  more  than  in  the  original 
furvey-:  the  perception  is  of  the  tree  and  river  them- 
felves,  as  at  firft.  I  confirm  this  by  another  experi- 
ment. After  attentively  furveying  a  fine  (iatue,  I  clofe 
my  eyes.     What,  follows  .^  Th?  lame  object  continues, 

without:: 


*  Yet  a  fingular  opinion,  that  impreffions  are  the. 
only  objects  of  perception,  has  been  efpoufed  hy  fome 
philofophers  of  no  mean  rank  ;  net  attending  to  the 
foregoing  peculiarity  in  the  fenfes  of  feeing  and  hear- 
ing, that  we  perceive  objects  v/ithout  being  confcious. 
of  an  organic  impreffion,  or  of  any  impreflion.  See 
the  Treatife  upon  human  nature:  where  we  find  the 
following  pafTage,  book  i,  p.  4.  feet.  2.  "  Properly 
*•  fpeakirjg,  it  is  not  our  body  we  perceive  when  we 
*'  regard  our  limbs  and  members;  io  that  the  afcri- 
*<  bing  a  real  and  corporeal  exiflence  to  thefe  imprefll- 
^'  ons,  or  to  their  objects,  is  an  act  of  the  mind  as 
H  difficult  to  explain,"  l^c. 


OR    EXPLAIKED,  32-7: 

without  any  difference  but   that  it  is  lefs   dirtinct  than^ 
formerly  *.     This  iiidiiliiKt  fecondary  perception  of  an 

object, 

*  This  experiment,  which  every  one  may   make  and 
reiterate  till  entire  fatisfaction  be  obtained,  is  of  greater 
importance  than  at  firlt  view  may  appear ;  tor  it  ibiices 
at  the  root  of  a  cel'^l^rated  doctrine  that  for  more  than- 
two  thoiifand  veus  h;is  milled  many  philoiophers.    This 
doctrine  as  delivered  by  Aritlotle  is  in  fubftance,  "  That 
"  of  every  object  of  thought  there  mull  be  in  the  mind 
"  fome  form,  phantafm,  orfpeciesi  that   things  feiifi- 
"  bie  are  perceived  and  remembered  by  means  of  fen- 
"   fible  phantafms,  and  things  inreliigible  by  intelligible- 
"   phantafms;  and  that  thefe  fpecies  or  phantafms  have. 
"   the  form  of  the  object  without  the  matter,  as  the 
*'   imprelfion  of  a  feal  upon  wax  has  the  form  of  the  feai- 
♦'   without  its  matter  "    The  followers  of  Arirtotle  add, 
<'  That  the  fenfible  and  intelligible  forms  of  things,  are 
«♦  fent  forth  from  the  things  themfelves,  and  make  im- 
•'  preifions  upon  the  palfive  intellect,  which  impreflions 
"  are  perceived  by  the  active  intellect."     This  notion 
differs  very  little  from  that  of  Epicurus,  which  is,  '•  That 
"  all  things  fend  forth,  conftantly  and  in  every  direction, 
"  (lender  ghofts  or  films  of  themlelves,  [tenuiajimulacrai 
"  as  expreffed  by  his  commentator  Lucretius)  ;  which 
'••  ftriking  upon  the  mind,  are  the  mtaas  of  perception, 
"  dreaming,"  Iffc.     Des  Cartes,  bent  to  oppoft  Ariito- 
tie,  rejects  the  doctrine  of  fenfible  and  intelligible  phan- 
tafms j  maintaining  hov^ever  the  fame  doctriiie  in  effecty, 
"jiz.  That  we  perceive  nothing  external  but  by  means 
of  fome  image  either  in  the  brain  or  in  the  mind  :  and 
thefe  images  he  terms  rrieas.     According  to  thefe  philo- 
fophers,  we  perceive  nothing  immediately  but  phantafms 
or  ideas  J  and  from   thefe  we  infer,  by  realoning,  the 
exiffence  of  external  objects.    Locke,  adopting  this  doc-? 
trine,  employs  almoll  the  whole  of  his  book  about  ideas. 
He  holds,  that  we  cannot  perceive,  remember,  nor  ima- 
gine, any  thing,  but  by  having  an  idea  or  image  of  it  in 
the  mind.     He  agrees   with  Des  Carteg,    that  we  can 
have  no.  knowledge  of  things  external  but  what  we  ac- 
quire by  reafoning  upon  their  ideas  or  images  in   ths 

miad  j 


yiS  Terms  defined 

obje£t,  is  termed  an  i^ea.  And  therefore  the  precife 
and  accurate  definition  of  an  idea,  in  contradiftindtioa 
to  an  oiiginal  perception,  is,  "  That  perception  of  a 

"  real 

niind  ;  taking  it  for  granted,  that  we  are  confcious  of 
thefe  ideas  or  images,  and  of  nothing  elfe.  Thofe  who 
talk  the  moil:  intelligiblyjexplain  thedoftrine  thus:  When 
I  fee  in  a  niiiror  a  man  flanding  behind  me,  the  imme- 
diate objeft  of  my  fight  is  his  image,  without  which  I 
could  not  fee  him  :  in  like  manner,  when  I  fee  a  tree  or 
a  houfe,  there  muft  be  an  image  of  thefe  objeds  in  my 
brain  or  in  my  mind  ;  which  image  is  the  immediate 
objeft  of  my  perception  ;  and  by  means  of  that  image 
1  perceive  the  external  object. 

One  would  not  readily  fufpedt  any  harm  in  this  ideal- 
fyftem,  other  than  the  leading  us  into  a  labyrinth  of  me- 
taphyfical  errors  in  order  to  account  for  our  knowledge 
of  external  objedts,  which  is  more  truly  and  more  Am- 
ply accounted  for  by  dire£t  plain  perception.  And  yet 
fome  late  writers  have  been  able  to  extract  from  it  death 
and  deflruQion  to  the  whole  world,  levelling  all  down  to 
a  mere  chaos  of  ideas.  Dr  Berkeley,  upon  authority  of 
the  philofophers  named,  taking  for  granted  that  we  can- 
not perceive  any  objcCt  but  what  is  in  the  mind,  difco- 
vered,  that  the  reafoning,  employ'd  by  Des  Cartes  and 
Locke  to  infer  the  exigence  of  external  objeds,  is  incon- 
clufive  ;  and  upon  that  difcovery  ventured,  againft  com- 
mon fenfe,  to  annihilate  totally  the  material  world.  And 
a  later  writer  difcovering  that  Berkeley's  arguments 
might  with  equal  fuccefs  be  applied  againft  immaterial 
beings,  ventures  ftill  more  boldly  to  reject  by  the  lump 
the  immaterial  world  as  well  as  the  materia! ;  leaving 
nothing  in  nature  but  images  or  ideas  floating  in  "jacuo, . 
without  affording  them  a  fingle  mind  for  ftielter  or  fup- 
port. 

When  fuch  wild  and  extravagant  confequences  can  bs 
drawn  from  the  ideal  fyfteni,  it  might  have  been  expect- 
ed, that  no  man  who  is  not  crazy  would  have  ventured 
to  ered  fuch  a  fuperftrudure,  till, he  fliould  firft  be  cer- 
tain beyond  all  doubt  of  a  folid  foundation.  And  yet 
upon  examination,  we  find  the  foundation  of  this  terrible  = 

doftringj 


OR    EXPLAINED  ^29- 

<*  real  objeft  which  is  raifed  in  the  inind  by  the  power 
"  of  memory."  Every  thing  we  have  sny  kncwledge 
of,  whether   internal    or   external,    pafiions,  emotions,. 

thinking, 

doftrine  to  be  no  better  than  a  fhallow  metaphvfical  ar- 
gument, t^iz.  »*  That  no  being  can  a£t  but  where  it  is  ;, 
"  and,  confeonenrlv,  thit  it  cannot  a£l  upon  any  fub- 
"  jeQ  at  a  diltsnce."  T'his  argunient  poliefles  indeed 
one  eminent  advantage,  that  its  obfcurity,  like  that  of  an 
oracle,  is  apt  to  impofe  upon  the  reader,  who  is  willing 
to  conlider  it  as  a  demonll:ration,  becaufe  he  does  not 
clearly  fee  the  fallacy.  The  beft  way  to  give  it  a  fair 
trial,  is  to  draw  it  out  of  its  obfcurity,  and  to  ftate  it  in 
a  clear  light,  as  follows.  "  No  fubjedt  can  be  perceived 
"  unlefs  it  a£t  upon  the  mind  5  but  no  diliant  fubjeit  can 
"  a6l  upon  the  mind,  becaufe  no  being  can  act  but 
'*  v/here  it  is  ;  and,  therefore,  the  immediate  object  of 
"  perception  muft  be  fomething  united  to  the  mind,  fo- 
*'  as  to  be  able  to  act  upon  it."  Here  the  argument 
completed  in  all  its  parts  feems  to  be  juftly  llated  ;  and 
from  it  is  derived  the  fuppofed  neceflity  of  phantafms  or 
ideas  united  to  the  mind,  as  the  only  objects  of  percep- 
tion. It  is  Angularly  unlucky  for  this  argument,  that  it 
concludes  directly  againft  the  very  fyllem  of  which  it  is 
the  only  foundation  ;  for  how  can  phantafms  or  ideas  be 
railed  in  the  mind  by  things  at  a  diftance,  if  things  at  a 
ditlance  cannot  act  upon  the  mind.?  1  fay  more,  that  it 
alfumes  a  propofition  as  true,  without  evidence,  <viz. 
That  no  diftant  fubject  can  act  upon  the  mind.  This 
propofition  undoubtedly  requires  evidence,  for  it  is  not 
intuitively  certain,  And,  therefore,  till  the  propofition 
be  demonftrated,  every  man  without  fcruple  may  rely 
upon  the  conviction  of  his  fenfes,  that  he  hears  and  fees 
things  at  a  diftance. 

But  I  venture  a  bolder  ftroke,  which  is,  to  (hew  that 
the  propofition  is  falfe.  Admitting  that  no  being  can  act 
but  where  it  is,  is  there  any  thing  more  fimple  or  more 
common,  than  the  acting  upon  fubjects  at  a  diftance  by 
intermediate  means  .''  This  holds  in  fact  with  refpecc 
both  to  feeing  and  hearing.  When  I  fee  a  tree,  for  ex- 
ample, rays  of  iig^hc  are  rejected  from  the-tree  to  my 

e7_ep. 


330  Terms  DEFrvED 

thinking,  refolving,  willing,  heat,  cold,  ^c.  as  well  as' 
external  objects,  may  be  recalled  as  above,  by  the  pow- 
er of  memf'ty  *. 

15.  The  original  perceptions  of  external  objects,  are 
either  fimpie  or  complex.  Some  founds  are  fo  fimple  as- 
not  to  be  refolvable  into  parts,  and  the  perception  of 

fuch 

eye,  forming  a  picture  upon  the  retina  tunica:  but  the 
object  perceived  is  the  tree  itfelf,  not  the  rays  of  light, 
nor  the  picture.  ?n  this  manner  diflant  objects  are  per- 
ceived, withoi>t  any  action  of  the  object  upon  the  mind,. 
or  of  the  mind  upon  the  object.  Hearing  is  in  a  fimilar 
cafe:  the  air  put  in  motion  by  thunder,  makes  an  ini- 
preflion  upon  the  drum  of  the  ear  ;  but  this  impreffion 
is  not  what  I  hear,  it  is  the  thunder  itfelf  by  means  of 
that  impreffion. 

With  refpect  to  villon  in  particular,  we  are  profound- 
ly ignorant  by  what  means  and  in  what  manner  the  pic- 
ture on  the  retina  tunica  contributes  to  produce  a  fight' 
of  the  object.  One  thing  only  is  clear,  that  as  we  have 
no  knowledge  of  that  picture,  it  is  as  natural  to  con-- 
ceive  that  it  (hould  be  made  the  fnftrument  of  difca- 
vering  the  external  object,  and  not  itfelf,  as  of  difco- 
vering  Ki'eif  only,  and  not  the  external  object. 

Upon  the  chimericar  confequences  drawn  from  the 
ideal  fyftem,  I  !haU  make  but  a  fingle  reflection.  Nature- 
determines  us  necelfarily  to  rely  on  the  veracity  of  our. 
fenfes  ;  and  upon  their  evidence  the  exiftence  of  external, 
objects  is  to  us  a  matter  of  intuitive  knowledge  and  ab- 
folute  certainty.  Vain  therefore  is  the  attempt  of  Dr- 
Beikeley  and  of  his  followers,  to  deceive  us,  by  a  me- 
taphyfical  fubtilty,  into  a  difoelief  of  what  we  cannot- 
eiiteitain  even  the  flightetl  doubt. 

*  From  this  defir.ition  of  an  iden,  the  following  pro- 
pofition  muft  be  evident,  That  there  can  be  no  fuch  thing ; 
as  an  innate  idea.  If  the  original  perception  of  an  ob- 
ject be  not  innate,  which  is  obvious,  it  is  not  lefs  obvious, 
that  the  idea  or  fecondary  perception  of  that  object  can- 
not be  innate.  And  yet,  to  prove  this  felf-evident  pro- 
pofuion,  Locke  has  beilow'd  a  whole  book  of  his  trea-- 
ufe  upon  human  underllanding.     So  neceflary  it  is  ta 

give: 


OR    EXPLAINED.  33I 

fuch  founds  muil:  be  equally  fo  :  the  like  with  refpect 
to  the  perception  of  certain  taftes  and  fmelis.  A  per- 
ception of  touch,  is  generally  compounded  of  the  more 
fimple  perceptions  of  hardnefs  or  foftnefs,  joined  v/ith 
fnioothnefs  or  roughp.cfs.  heat  or  cold,  fffc.  But  of  all 
the  perceptions  ot  external  fenfe,  that  of  a  vifible  ob- 
ject is  the  moft  connplex  ;  becaufe  the  eye  takes  in  moie 
particulars  than  any  other  organ.  A  tree  is  compofed 
of  a  trunk,  branches,  leaves;  it  has  colour,  figure,  fize. 
Every  one  of  thefe  feparately  produceth  a  percepfiort 
in  the  mind  of  the  fpectator,  which  are  all  combined 
into  the  couiplex  perception  of  the  tree. 

16.  The  original  perception  of  an  object  of  fight,  13 
more  complete,  lively,  and  ditlinct,  than  that  of  any 
other  object.  And  for  that  realon,  an  idea  or  feconda- 
ry  perception  of  a  vifibk  object,  is  aifo  more  complete, 
lively,  and  diftinct,  than  that  of  any  other  object.  A 
fine  palfage  in  mufic,  may,  for  a  moment,  be  recalled 
to  the  mind  with  tolerable  accuracy  ;  but,  afrer  the 
fliorteft  interval,  it  becomes  not  lefs  obfcure  than  the 
ideas  ot  the  other  objects  mentioned. 

17.  As  the  range  ot  an  individual  is  commonly  with- 
in narrow  bounds  of  fpacc,  it  rarely  happens,  that  eve- 
ry thing  necefiary  to  be  known  comes  under  our  own 
perceptions ;  which  therefore  are  a  provifmn  too  fcanty 
for  the  purpofes  of  life.  Language  is  an  admirable  con- 
nivance for  tupplving  that  deficiency;  for  by  language 
every  man  may  communicate  his  perceptions  to  all  » 
and  the  fame  may  be  done  by  painting  and  oilier  imi- 
tative arts.  The  facility  of  communication  is  in  pro- 
portion to  the  livelinels  of  the  ideas;  elpecially  in  Ian- 
gunge,  which  hitherto  has  not  arrived  at  greater  perlec- 
tion  than  to  exprefs  clear  and  lively  ideas:  and  hence 
it  is,  thac  poets  and  orators,  who  are  extremely  fue- 
cefsful  in  defcribing  objects  of  light,  find  objects  of  the 

other 

give  accur-ite  definitions,  and  fo  preventive  of  difput* 
are  definitions  when  accurate.  Dr  Berkeley  has  taken 
great  p^ins  to  p  ove  another  propofition  equally  evident,. 
That  there  can  be  no  fuch  thing  js  a  geneial  idea  :  all 
our  original  perceptions  are  of  particular  objects,  and. 
eu-r  kcondary  peiceptions  or  ideas  muft  be  equally  fo. 


332  Terms  defined 

other  fenfes  too  faint  and  obfcure  for  language.  Ab 
idea  thus  acquired  of  an  ohjedt  at  fecond  hand,  ought 
to  be  diftinguiflied  from  an  idea  of  memory,  though 
their  refemblance  has  occafioned  the  fame  term  idea  to 
be  apply'd  to  both  ;  which  is  to  be  regretted,  becaufe 
ambiguity  In  the  fignification  of  words  is  a  great  ob- 
ftruftion  to  accuracy  of  conception.  Thus  Nature  hath 
furniihed  the  means  of  multiplying  ideas  without  end,, 
and  of  providing  every  individual  with  a  fufficient  ftock 
to  anfwer,  not  only  the  neceffities,  but  even  the  ele- 
gancies of  life. 

1 8.  Further,  man  is  endued  with  a  fort  of  creative- 
power  :  he  can  fabricate  images  of  things  that  have  no 
exiftence.  The  materials  employ'd  in  this  operation, 
are  ideas  of  fight,  which  he  can  take  to  pieces  and  com- 
bine into  new  forms  at  pieafure  :  their  complexity  and 
vivacity  make  them  fit  materials.  But  a  man  hath  no 
fuch  power  over  any  of  his  other  ideas,  whether  of  the 
external  or  internal  fenfes:  he  cannot,  after  the  utmoft 
effort,  combine  thefe  into  new  forms,  being  too  obfcure 
for  that  operation.  h.n  ima2;e  thus  fabricated  cannot  be 
called  a  fecondary  perception,  not  being  derived  from 
an  original  perception:  the  poverty  of  language  howe- 
ver, as  in  the  cafe  immediately  above  mentioned,  has 
occafioned  the  fame  term  idea  to  be  apply'd  to  all.  This 
fingular  power  of  fabiicating  linages  without  any  foun- 
dation in  reality,  is  ditlinguilhed  by  the  name  imagina- 
tion. 

19.  As  ideas  are  the  chief  materials  employ'd  in  rea- 
foning  and  refleding,  it  is  of  confequence  that  their  na-  . 
ture  and  differences  be  underfl:ood.  It  appears  now, 
that  ideas  may  be  diftinguifhed  into  three  kinds  j  firfl. 
Ideas  derived  from  original  perceptions,  properly  termed 
ideas  of  tnemnry  j  tecond.  Ideas  communicated  by  lan- 
guage or  other  figns  ;  and,  third.  Ideas  of  imagination. 
Thefe  ideas  differ  from  each  other  in  many  refpedts  y 
but  chiefly  in  refpect  that  they  proceed  from  different 
caufes  :  the  firfl  kind  is  rierived  from  real  exiftences 
that  have  been  objects  of  our  fenfes  :  language  is  the 
caufe  of  the  fecond,  or  any  other  fign  that  has  the  lame 
power  with  language  :  and  a  man's  imagination  is  to 
hiuifelf  the  caufe  of  the  third.     It  is  fcarce  neceffary 

to 


OR    EXPLAINED.  5^33 

to  add",  that  an  idea,  originally  of  iinagrnatlon,  being 
convey'd  to  others  by  language,  or  any  other  vehicle, 
becomes  in  their  mind  an  idea  of  the  fecond  kind  ;  and 
again,  that  an  idea  of  this  kind,  being  afterwards  re- 
called to  the  mind,  becomes  in  that  circumllance  an 
idea  of  memory. 

20.  We  are  not  fo  conftiruted  as  to  perceive  objects 
with  indiiFerency :  thefe,  with  very  few  exceptions,  ap- 
pear agreeable  or  difagreeable  ;  and  at  the  fame  time 
raife  in  us  pleafant  or  painful  emotions.  With  refpect 
to  external  objects  in  particular,  we  diftlnguifh  thofe 
which  produce  organic  imprellicns,  from  thofe  which 
affect  us  from  a  diftance.  When  we  touch,  ar-foft  and 
fmooth  body,  we  have  a  pleafant  feeling  as  at  the  place 
of  contact;  which  feeling  we  diftinguifli  not,  at  leail 
not  accurately,  from  the  agreeablenefs  of  the  body  it- 
felf ;  and  the  fame  holds  in  general  with  regard  to  all 
organic  impreffions.  It  is  otherwife  in  hearing  and  fee- 
ing :  a  found  is  perceived  as  in  itfelf  agreeable,  and 
raifes  in  the  hearer  a  pleafant  emotion  :  an  object  of 
fight  appears  in  itfelf  agreeable,  and  raifes  in  the  fpec- 
taror  a  pleafant  emotion.  Thefe  are  accurately  dillin- 
guiihed  :  the  pleafant  emotion  is  felt  as  within  the  mind  j 
the  agreeablenefs  of  the  object  is  placed  upon  the  ob- 
ject, and  is  perceived  as  one  of  its  qualities  or  pro- 
perties. The  agreeable  appearance  of  an  object  of  fight, 
is  teimed  beauty  ;  and  the  difagreeable  appearance  of 
fuch  an  object  is  termed  uglinej^. 

21.  But  though  beauty  and  uglinefs,  in  their  proper 
4nd  genuine  figiiihcation,  are  confined  to  objects  of 
fight;  yet  in  a  more  lax  and  figurative  fignffication,  they 
are  apply 'd  to  objects  of  the  other  fenfes  :  they  are 
fometimes  apply 'd  even  to  abftraft  terms  ;  for  it  is  not 
unufual  to  fay,  a  beautiful  theorem,  a  beautiful  conjii- 
tution  of  g^'vernment. 

22.  A  line  coinpofed  by  a  fingle  nle,  is  perceived 
and  faid  to  be  regular :  a  ftraight  line,  a  parabola,  a 
hyperbola,  the  circumference  of  a  circle,  and  of  an 
eilipfe,  are  all  of  them  regular  lines.  A  figure  compo- 
fed  by  a  fingle  rule,  is  perceived  and  faid  to  be  regular  : 
a  circle,  a  fquare,  a  hexagon,  an  equilateral  triangle, 
are  regular  figures,  being  compofed  by  a  fingle  rule  that 

determines 


534  Terms  defined 

determines  the  form  of  each.  When  the  fornn  of  a  line 
or  of  a  figure  is  afcertained  by  a  fingle  rule  that  leaves 
nothing  arbitrary,  the  line  and  the  figure  are  faid  to  be 
perfeftly  regular  ;  which  is  the  cafe  of  the  figures  now 
mentioned,  and  the  cafe  of  a  ftraight  line  and  of  the 
circumference  of  a  circle,  A  figure  and  a  line  that  re- 
quire more  than  one  rule  for  their  conilrudion,  or  that 
have  any  of  their  parts  left  arbitrary,  are  not  perfectly 
regular  :  a  parallelogram  and  a  rhomb  are  lefs  regular 
than  a  fqunre;  the  parallelogram  being;  fub)e<5led  to  no 
rule  as  to  the  length  of  fide?,  other  than  that  the  op- 
polite  fides  be  equ^if ;  the  rhomb  being  fubjefted  to  no 
rule  as  to  irs  angles,  other  than  that  the  oppofite  angles 
be  equal :  for  the  fame  rearfon,  the  circumference  of  an 
ellipfe,  the  form  of  which  is  fufceptible  of  much  va- 
riety,  is  lefs  regular  than  that  o'   a  circle. 

23.  Regularity,  properly  Ipe  King,  belong?,  like  beau-- 
ty,  to  objefts  of  fight:  and,  like  beauty,  it  is  alfo  ap- 
p'y'd  figuratively  to  other  objects  :  thus  we  lay,  a  re- 
gular go'vernmenty  a  regular  compofttion  0/  muftc,  and, 
regular  difcipline. 

24.  When  two  figures  are  compofed  of  fimilar  parts^. 
they  are  fdd  to  be  uniform.  Perfe6t  uniformity  is  where 
the  conlfituent  parts  of  two  figures  are  equal  :  thus  two 
cubes  of  the  fame  dimeriions  are  perfectly  unifoim  in 
all  their  parts.  Uiiiformiry  lefs  perfeft  is,  where  the 
parts  mutually  correfpond,  but  without  being  equal : 
the  uniformity  is  imperftdt  between  two  fquares  or 
cubes  of  unequal  dinienfions ;  and  Itill  more  fo  between 
a  fquare  and  a  paiallelogram. 

25  Uniformity  is  alio  applicable  to  the  conlfituent- 
parts  of  the  fame  figure.  The  conflituent  parts  of  a 
fquare  ate  perfediy  uniform  :  it.s  ficies  aie  equal  and  its 
angles  are  equal  v^  herein  then  differs  regularity  from 
uniformity  .''  for  a  figure  compoied  of  uniform  parts 
muft  undoubtedly  be  regular.  Regularity  is  predicated 
of  a  figure  cnnfidered  as  a  w  hole  compofed  of  unilorm 
parts  :  uniformity  is  predicated  of  tht-fe  parts  as  related 
to  each  other  by  lefemblance  :  we  lay,  a  fquare  is  a 
regul-ir,  not  an  uniform,  figure  ;  but  with  refpttf  to  the 
Conftituent  parts  of  a  fquaie,  we  fay  not,  that  tbey  are 
legular,  but  that  they  are  uiufonn. 

i6.  la 


OR    EXPLAINED.  335 

26  In  tilings  deftined  for  the  fame  ufe,  as  legs,  arms, 
eyes,  windows,  fpoons,  we  expeQ  uniformity.  Pro- 
portion ought  to  govern  parts  intended  for  different  ules : 
we  lequire  a  certain  proportion  between  a  leg  and  an 
arm  ;  in  the  bate,  the  (hatt,  the  capital  of  a  pillar;  and 
in  the  length,  the  bieadth,  the  height  of  a  room:  feme 
proportion  is  al'o  required  in  different  things  intimately 
connedted,  as  between  a  dwelling  houfe,  the  garden, 
and  the  flables  :  but  we  require  no  proportion  among 
things  lightly  conneQed,  as  between  the  table  a  uian 
writes  on  and  the  dog  that  foUoAs  him.  Proportion 
and  uniformity  never  coincide:  things  equal  are  ijni'» 
form  ;  but  proportion  is  never  applied  to  them  :  thy 
four  fides  ai;d  angles  of  a  fquare  are  equal  and  perfeflii, 
uniform;  but  we  iky  not  that  they  aie  proportionae 
Thus,  propoilion  always  implies  ificquality  or  differ- 
ence; but  then  it  implies  it  to  a  certai  .  ijc-^,:ee  only  : 
the  motl  agrc-eable  proportion  releinbles  a  maximutn  in 
mathematics  ;  a  greater  or  lefs  inequality  or  tlitrerence 
is  lefs  agreeable. 

2"].  Order  regards  various  particulars.  Firft,  in  tra- 
cing  or  furveying  objedfs,  we  aie  directed  by  a  izn^Q  of 
order  :  we  perceive  it  to  be  more  oiderly,  that  we  (hould 
pafs  from  a  principal  to  its  acccfforics,  and  irom  a  whole 
to  its  parts,  than  in  the  contrary  direQion.  Next,  with 
refpeQ  to  the  pufition  of  things,  a  knk  of  order  direds 
us  to  place  together  things  intimately  conneded.  Third- 
ly, in  placing  things  thai  have  no  natural  connexion, 
that  order  appears  the  moft  perfett  where  the  particu- 
lars are  made  £0  bear  the  krongell  relation  to  each  other 
that  pofition  can  give  them.  This  parallelifm  is  the 
ftrongell  relation  that  polidon  can  bettow  upon  ftraight 
lines,  if  they  be  fo  piaced  as  by  produdion  to  in'erfed, 
the  rel.iiion  is  lefs  perted.  A  la^ge  body  in  the  mid- 
dle, and  two  equal  bodies  of  lels  hze,  one  on  each  fide, 
is  aj\  ordei  that  produces  the  ftrongell  relation  the  bo- 
dies are-fulceptible  of  by  pofition  :  the  relation  between 
the  two  equal  booies  would  be  flroiiger  by  jux!'apofiti- 
on  ;  i>ut  they  would  not  both  have  ihe  fame  relation  to 
the  t.iird. 

2b    Toe  beauty  or  agreeablenefs  of  a  vifible  object, 
is  perceived  as  one  of  its  qualities ;  which  holds,  not 

only 


335  Terms  defined 

only  in  the  original  perception,  but  a!fo  in  the  feconda- 
ry  perception  or  idea  :  and  hence  the  pleafure  that  aril'es 
from  the  idea  of  a  beautiful  object.  An  idea  of  ima- 
gination is  a!fo  pleafant,  though  in  a  lower  degree  than 
an  idea  of  memory,  where  the  objects  are  of  the  fame 
kind,;  for  an  evident  reafon,  that  the  former  is  more 
diftinct  and  lively  than  the  latter.  But  this  inferiority 
in  ideas  of  imngination,  is  more  than  compenfated  by 
their  greatnefs  and  variety,  which  are  boundiefs  ;  for 
the  imagination  acting  without  controul,  can  fabricate 
ideas  of  finer  vifible  objects,  of  more  noble  and  heroic 
actions,  of  greater  wickednefs,  of  more  furpiifing  e- 
venfs,  than  ever  in  fact  exifted  :  and  in  communicating 
fuch  ideas  by  words,  painting,,  fculpture,  ^c.  the  in- 
fluence of  the  imagination  is  not  leis  extenfive  than  great. 

29.  In  the  nature  of  every  man,  there  is  fomewhat 
original,  that  ferves  to  diftinguifh  him  from  others,  that 
tends  to  form  a  character,  and  to  make  him  meek  or 
fiery,  candid  or  deceitful,  refolute  or  timorous,  chear- 
ful  or  morofe.  This  original  bent,  termed  difpofition^ 
muft  be  diftinguifhed  from  a  principle :  the  latter,  fig- 
nifying  a  law  of  human  nature,  makes  part  of  the  com- 
mon nature  of  man;  the  former  makes  part  of  the  na- 
ture of  this  or  that  man.  Propenfity  is  a  name  common 
to  both  ;  for  it  fignifies  a  principle  as  well  as  a  difpo- 
lition 

30.  AffeBion,  fgnifying  a  fettled  bent  of  mind  to- 
ward a  particular  being  or  thing,  occupies  a  middle 
place  between  difpolition  on  the  one  hand,  and  pailioa 
on  the  other.  It  is  clearly  dillinguifliable  from  difpofi- 
tion,  which  being  a  branch  of  one's  nature  originally, 
muft  ^xilt  before  there  can  be  an  opportunity  to  exert 
it  upon  any  particular  object  ;  whereas  affection  can 
never  be  original,  becaufe  having  a  fpecial  relation  to  a 
particular  object,  it  cannot  exill  till  the  object  have 
once  at  leaft  been  prefented.  It  is  not  lefs  clearly  dif- 
tinguilhable  from  paifion,  which  depending  on  the  real 
or  ideal  prefence  of  its  object,  vaniihes  with  its  object ; 
whereas  attection,  once  fettled  on  a  perfon,  is  a  lafting 
connection  ;  and,  like  other  connections,  fubfifts  even 
when  we  do  not  think  of  the  perfon.  A  familiar  ex- 
amole  will  clear  the  whole.     There  raay  be  in  my  mind 

adif- 


OR    E^KPLAINED.  337 

a  difpofition  to  gratitude,  which,  through  want  of  an 
objed,  happens  never  to  be  exerted  ;  and  which  there- 
fore is  never  difcovered  even  by  tuyfelf.  Another  who 
has  the  fame  difpoficion,  meets  with  a  kindly  office  that 
makes  him  grateful  to  his  benefadlor  :  an  intimate  con- 
nexion is  formed  between  them,  termed  afedron;  which, 
like  other  connexions,  has  a  permanent  exiftence,  though 
not  always  in  view.  The  affeXion,  for  the  moft  part, 
lies  dormant,  till  an  opportunity  offer  of  exerting  it  j 
in  that  circumftance,  it  is  converted  into  the  paflion  of 
gratitude  ;  and  the  opportunity  is  greedily  feized  for 
teilifying  gratitude  in  the  warmeft  manner. 

31.  A^erfion,  1  think,  is  oppofed  to  affeXion,  and 
not  to  defire,  as  it  commonly  is  We  have  an  affadlion 
to  one  perfonj  we  have  an  averfion  to  another:  the 
former  difpofes  us  to  do  good  to  its  objeft,  the  latter 
to  do  ill. 

32.  What  is  a  fentiment?  It  is  not  a  perception  ;  for 
a  perception  fignifies  the  aft  by  wnich  we  become  con- 
fcious  of  external  objeXs.  Jt  is  not  confcioufnefs  of 
an  internal  action,  fuch  as  thinking,  fufpending  thought, 
inclining,  refolving,  willing,  ^c.  Neither  is  it  the  con- 
ception of  a  relation  amongfl  objects ;  a  conception  of 
that  kind  being  termed  opinion.  The  terra  fentiment 
■is  appropriated  to  fuch  thoughts  as  are  prompted  by 
paflion. 

0^^.  Attention  is  that  flate  of  mind  which  prepares 
one  CO  receive  imprefHons.  According  to  the  de2;ree  of 
attention,  objects  make  a  ftronger  or  weaker  iinpreflion*. 
Attention  is  requifite  even  to  the  fiinple  act  of  feein^  ; 
the  eye  can  take  in  a  coafiderabie  field  at  one  look;  but 

no 

*  Bacon,  in  his  natural  hilTiory,  makes  the  following 
obfervations.  Sounds  are  meliorated  by  the  irtenfion  oT 
the  fenle,  where  the  common  fenfe  is  collected  moll  to 
the  particular  fenfe  of  hearing,  and  the  fight  fufpended. 
Therefore  founds  are  fleeter,  as  y/ell  as  greater,  in  the 
night  than  in  the  day  ;  and  I  fuppofe  they  are  fweeter 
to  blind  men  than  to  others:  and  it  is  manifeft,  that  be- 
tween fleeptng  and  waking,  when  all  the  fenfes  are  bound 
and  fufpended,  mufic  is  far  fweeter  than  when  one  is 
fully  waking. 


33S  Tlrms  defined 

no  object  in  the  field  is  feen  diftincrly,  bur  that  iingljr 
which  fixes  the  attention  :  in  a  profouud  reverie  that 
totally  occupies  the  attention,  v^e  fcarce  fee  what  is 
directly  before  ns.  In  a  train  of  perceptions,  no  par- 
ticular object  makes  fuch  a  figure  as  it  v/ouJd  do  fingle 
and  apart:  for  when  the  attention  is  divided  among  ma- 
ny objects,  no  particular  object  is  intitled  to  a  large 
iliare.  Hence,  the  rtillnefs  of  night  contributes  to  ter- 
ror,  there  Lieiiig  nothing   to  divert  the  attention  ; 

Horror  uhique  aniiuos,   fimui  ipfa  filentia  terrent. 

JEntiil.   ii. 

7,ara.  Silence  and  folitiide  are  ev'ry  where! 
Through  all  the  gloomy  ways  and  iron  doors 
That  hither -lead,  nor  human  face  nor  voice 
]s  feen  or  heard       A  dreadiul  din  was  wont 
To  grate  the  fenfe,  when  enter'd  here,  from  groans 
And  howls  of  flaves  condemn'd,  from  clinic  of  chains, 
And  cralh  of  rufty  bars  ai-.d  creaking  hinges: 
.  And  ever  and  anon  the  fight  was  daih'd 
With  frightful  faces  and  the  meagre  looks 
Of  grim  and  ghaftly  executioners, 
Yet  more  this  ilillnefs  terrifies  my  fou! 
Than  did  that  fcene  ot  complicated  horrors. 

Mourning  Bride y  ad  5.  ft.  8, 

And  hence  it  is,  that  an  object  feen  at  the  termination 
of  a  confined  view,  is  more  agreeable  than  when  feen 
in  a  gro-up  vvith  the  furrounding  objects  : 

The  crow  doth  fing  a?  fv/eetly  as  the  lark 
When  neither  is  attended  ;   and,   I  think. 
The  nightingale,   if  fiie  fhouUi  fing  by  day, 
When  ev'ry  goofe  is  cackling,  would  be  thought 
No  better  a  luufician  than  the  wren. 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

34  In  matters  of  (liglu  iriiportance,  attention  is  moft- 
ly  directed  by  will  ;  and  for  that  tealon,  it  is  our  own 
fault  if  trifling  objects  make  any  deep  imprefiion.  Had 
we  power  equally  to  with-hokl  out  attention  from  mat- 
ters of  importance,  we  might  be  proof  againft  any  deep 
iuipreflion.    But  our  power  fails  us  here:  an  inteielling 

object 


OR    EXPLAINED.  339 

object  feizes  and  fixes  the  attention  beyond  the  pofllbi- 
lity  of  controul  ;  and  v/hile  our  attention  is  thus  forci- 
bly attached  to  one  objedt,  others  may  folicit  for  ad«- 
mittance  ;  but  in  vain,  for  they  will  not  be  regarded. 
Thus  a  fmall  ini&fortune  is  fcarce  felt  in  prefence  of  a 
greater  : 

Lear.  Thou  think'ft  'tis  much,  that  this  contentious 
ftorni 
Invades  us  to  the  (tin ;  fo  'tis  to  thee ; 
But  where  the  greater  malady  is  fix'd, 
The  lefler  is  fcarce  felt.     Thou'dft  fliun  a  bear; 
But  if  thy  flight  lay  tow'rd  the  roaring  fea, 
Thou'dft  meet  the  bear  i'  th'  mouth.    When  the  mind's 

free, 
The  body's  delicate  :  the  tempeft  in  my  mind 
Doth  from  my  fenfes  take  all  feeling  elfe. 
Save  what  beats  there. 

King  Lear,  a£l  3.  fc.  5.' 

35.  Genus,  [pedes,  modification,  are  terms  invented 
to  diftinguilh  beings  from  each  other.  Individuals  are 
diftinguifhed  by  their  qualities  :  a  number  of  individu- 
als confidered  with  refpedt  to  qualities  that  diftingui/h 
them  from  others,  is  termed  a  /pedes  :  a  plurality  of 
fpecies  confidered  with  refpefl  to  their  diftinguifhing  qua- 
lities, is  termed  a  genus.  That  quality  which  diftin- 
guillieth  one  genus,  one  fpecies,  or  even  one  individual, 
from  another,  is  termed  a  modification :  thus  the  fame 
particular  that  is  termed  a  property  or  quality  when  con- 
fidered as  belonging  to  an  individual,  or  a  clafs  of  indi- 
viduals, is  termed  a  niodifi.calion  when  confidered  as 
diftinguifiiing  the  individual  or  the  clafs  from  another- 
a. black  (kin  and  foft  curled  hair,  are  properties  of  a 
negro  :  the  fame  circumftances  confidered  as  marks  that 
diftinguifli  a  negro  from  a  man  of  a  different  fpecies,  are 
denominated  modifications. 

36.  Objefts  of  fight,  being  complex,  are  diftinguifii, 
able  into  the  feveral  particulars  that  enter  into  the  com- 
pofition  :  thefe  objects  are  all  of  them  coloured  ;  and 
they  all  have  length,  breadth,  and  thicknefs.  When  I 
behold  a  fpreading  oak,  I  diltinguifli  in  that  objeft,  fize, 
figure,  colour,  and  iometimes  motion  :  viewing  a  fiow- 

VoL.  II.  P  ing 


340  Terms  defined 

ing  Tiver,  I  diftlnguiih  colour,  figure,  and  conftant  mo- 
tion:  a  dye  has  colour,  black  fpots,  fix  plain  furfaces. 
all  equal  and  uniform;  Objedls  of  touch  have  all  of 
them  extenfion  :  fome  of  them  are  felt  rough,  fome 
fmooth  :  fome  of  them  are  hard,  fome  foft.  With  re- 
fpe£t  to  the  other  fenfes,  fome  of  their  objects  are  fim- 
pie,  fome  complex:  a  found,  a  tafte,  a  fmel!,  may  be 
lb  fimple  as  not  to  be  diftinguifliable  into  parts:  others 
are  perceived  to  be  compounded  of  different  founds,  dif- 
ferent taftes,  and  different  fmells. 

37.  The  eye  at  one  look  can  grafp  a  number  of  ob- 
jefts,  as  of  trees  in  a  field,  or  men  in  a  crowd  :  as  thefe 
©bjefls  are  diftinti  from  each  other,  each  having  a  fe- 
parate  and  independent  exiftence,  they  are  diftinguiflia- 
ble in  the  mind  as  well  as  in  reality;  and  there  is  no- 
thing more  e-afy  than  to  abftract  from  fome  and  to  con- 
fine our  contemplation  to  others.  A  large  oak  with  its 
fpreading  branches,  fixes  our  attention  upon  itfelf,  and 
abllracta  us  from  the  (hrubs  that  furround  it.  In  the 
fame  manner,  with  refpect  to  compound  founds,  taftes, 
or  finells,  we  can  fix  our  thoughts  upon  any  one  of  the 
component  parts,  abftracting  our  attention  from  the 
refi:.  But  the  power  of  abftraction  is  not  confined  to 
objects  that  are  feparable  in  reality  as  well  as  mentally  : 
it  alfo  takes  place  where  there  can  be  no  real  feparation  ; 
the  fize,  the  figure,  the  colour,  of  a  tree,  are  infepa- 
rably  connected,  and  have  no  independent  exiftence  ; 
the  fame  of  length,  breadth,  and  thicknefs  ;  and  yet 
we  can  mentally  confine  our  obfervations  to  one  of  thefe, 
neglecting  or  abftracting  from  the  reft.  Here  abftrac- 
tion  takes  place  where  there  cannot  be  a  real  feparation. 

.38.  This  power  of  abftraction  is  of  great  utility. 
A  carpenter  confiders  a  log  of  wood  v;ith  regard  to 
hardnefs,  firmnefs,  colour,  and  texture  :  a  philoiopher, 
neglecting  thefe  properties,  makes  the  log  undergo  a 
chymical  analyfis  ;  and  examines  its  tafte,  its  fmell,  and 
its  component  principles :  the  geometrician  confines  his 
reafoning  to  the  figure,  the  length,  breadth,  and  thick- 
nefs. In  general,  every  artift,  abftracting  from  all  0- 
ther  properties,  confines  his  obfervations  to.  thofe 
which  have  a  more  immediate  connection  with  his  pro- 
fieffion. 

39.  Hence 


OR    EXPLAINED.  34I 

39-  Hence  clearly  appears  the  meaning  of  an  ahJlraSl 
ierm,  and  abftrail  idea.  If  in  viewing  an  objeCt  we 
can  abftradt  from  fome  of  its  parts  or  properties  and 
attach  ourfelves  to  others,  there  muft  be  the  fame  fa- 
cility when  we  recall  this  objeft  to  the  mind  in  idea. 
This  leads  diredlly  to  the  definition  of  an  abftraft  idea, 
^iz.  *'  A  partial  idea  of  a  complex  objeft,  limited  to 
"  one  or  more  of  the  component  parts  or  properties, 
**  laying  afide  or  abftratting  from  the  reft."  A  word 
that  denotes  an  abftrafl  idea,  is  called  an  ahfirad  term: 

40.  The  power  of  abftraftion  is  beflowed  upon  man, 
for  the  purpofe  folely  of  reafoning.  It  tends  greatly  to 
the  facility  as  well  as  clearnefs  of  any  procefs  of  rea- 
foning, that,  withdrawing  from  every  other  circum- 
ftance,  we  can  confine  our  attention  to  the  fingle  pro- 
perty we  defire  to  invelligate. 

41.  Abftradt  ideas,  may,  I  think,  be  diftinguifhed 
into  three  different  kinds,  all  equally  fubfervient  to  the 
reafoning  faculty.  Individuals  appear  to  have  no  end  j 
and  did  we  not  polTefs  the  faculty  of  diflributing  them 
into  clafTes,  the  mind  would  be  loft  in  an  endlefs  varie- 
ty, and  no  progrefs  be  made  in  knowledge.  It  is  by  the 
faculty  of  abftraction  that  we  diftribute  beings  into  ge- 
nera and  /pedes :  finding  a  number  of  individuals  con- 
nected by  certain  qualities  common  to  all,  we  give  a 
name  to  thefe  individuals  confidered  as  thus  connected, 
which  name,  by  gathering  them  together  into  one  clafs, 
ferves  in  a  curt  manner  to  exprels  the  whole  of  thefe 
individuals  as  diftinct  from  others.  Thus  the  word  ani- 
mal ferves  to  denote  every  being  which  hath  felf-moti- 
on  J  and  the  words  man,  horfe,  liotiy  ISc.  anfwer  fimilar' 
purpofes.  This  is  the  firft  and  moft  common  fort  of 
abftraction  j  and  it  is  of  the  moft  extenfive  ufe,  by  en- 
abling us  to  comprehend  in  our  reafoning  whole  kinds 
and  lorts,  inftead  of  individuals  without  end.  The  next 
fort  of  abftract  ideas  and  terms  comprehends  a  number 
of  individual  objects  confidered  as  connected  by  fome 
occafional  relation.  A  great  number  of  perfons  col- 
lected together  in  one  place,  without  any  other  relation 
but  merely  that  of  contiguity,  are  denominated  a  croiud: 
in  forming  this  term,  we  abftract  from  fex,  from  age, 
from  condition,  from  drefs,  I3c.     A  iiumber  of  perfons 

P  3  connected  > 


J42  Terms  defined,  i^c. 

connected  by  being  fubjected  to  the  fame  Jaws  and  to 
the  fame  government,  are  termed  a  nation  :  and  a  num- 
ber of  men  fubjefted  to  the  fame  military  command, 
are  termed  tin  army.  A  third  fort  of  abftradlion  is, 
where  a  fingle  property  or  part,  which  may  be  common 
to  many  individuals,  is  feleded  to  be  the  fubje(Sl  of 
our  contemplation  j  for  example,  whitenefs,  heat,  beau- 
ty, length,  roundnefs,  head,  arm. 

42.  Abftrafl  terms  are  a  happy  invention  :  it  is  by 
their  means  chiefly,  that  the  particulars  which  we  make 
the  fubjedt  of  our  reafoning  are  brought  into  clofe  u- 
nion,  and  feparated  from  all  others  however  naturally 
conneQed.  Without  the  aid  of  fuch  terms,  the  mind 
could  never  be  kept  fteady  to  its  proper  fubjed,  but  be 
perpetually  in  hazard  of  affuming  foreign  circumftan- 
ces,  or  neglecting  what  are  efTential.  VS/ e  can,  without 
the  aid  of  language,  compare  real  objects  by  intuition, 
when  thefe  objects  are  prefent ;  and,  when  abfent,  we 
can  compare  them  in  idea.  But  when  we  advance  far- 
ther, and  attempt  to  make  inferences,  and  draw  con- 
clufions,  we  always  employ  abftract  terms,  even  in 
thinking  :  it  would  be  as  difficult  to  reafon  without 
them,  as  to  perform  operations  in  algebra  without  figns ; 
for  there  is  fcarce  any  reafoning  without  fome  degree 
of  abftraciion,  and  we  cannot  abftract  to  purpofe  with- 
out making  ufe  of  abftract  terms.  Hence  it  follows, 
that  without  language  man  would  fcarce  be  a  rational 
being. 

43.  The  fame  thing,  in  different  refpects,  has  dif- 
ferent names.  With  refpect  to  certain  qualities,  it  is 
termed  n  ful>J?ance  i  with  refpect  to  other  qualities,  a 
iody  i  and  with  refpect  to  quaii'ies  of  all  forts,  a  fui- 
jedi.  It  is  termed  a  pajftnje  fubjett  with  refpect  to  an 
action  exerted  upon  it ;  an  objed  with  refpect  to  a  per- 
cipient j  a  caufe  with  refpect  to  the  etfect  it  produces  j 
and  an  effeS  with  refpect  to  its  caufe. 


I  N 


I     N     D     E     x; 


[The  volumes  are  denoted  by  numeral  letters,  the  pages.^ 
by  figures.] 


ABllraCt  idea)  defined  ii, 
■^^   340     Abftraft  ideas  of 

different  kinds  ii.  340. 
Abflra£lion)    power   of   ii^ 

339,  Itsufeii.339.  340. 
Abftradt  terms)  ought  to  be 

avoided  in  poetry  i.  146. 
ii.  223.  Cannot  be  com- 
pared but  by  being  per- 
fonified  ii.  1 18.  Per:o- 
nified  ii.  1  CI ,   Defined  ii. 

340.  The  ufe  of  abftrad 
terms  ii.  341. 

Accent)  defined  ii.  64.  The 
mufical  accents  that  are 

-  necefl'aryinan  hexameter 
line  ii.  75  A  low  word 
muft  not  be  accented  ii. 
94.  Rules  for  accenting 
Englifhheroic  verreii.93 
94.  How  far  afFetted  by 
the  paufe  ii.  96.  97.  Ac- 
cent and  paufe  have  a 
mutual  influence  ii,  98. 

Adtion)  v/hal  feelings  are 
raifed  by  human  actions 
i.  15.  16.  136.  219.  We 
are  impelled  to  aftion  by 
defire  i.  19.  Some  acti- 
ons are  inltinctive,  fome 
intended  as  means  to  a 
certain  end  i.  20.  21.  Ac- 
tions great  and  elevated, 
low  and  groveling  i.  137. 
Sl.Qwnefs   and  quicknefs 


in  acting,  to  w^hat  cau^es^ 
owing  i  1S9.  190.  197. 
Emotions  occafioned  by 
propriety ofaction  '-.212. 
Occafioned  by  impropri- 
ety of  action  i.  213.  Hu- 
man actions  confidered 
with  reipsct  to  dignity 
and  meannefs  i-  223.  Ac- 
tions the  interpreters  of 
the  heart  i.  272.  Action 
is  the  funciaiivental  part 
of  epic  and  dramatic  com- 
pofitions  ii.  245.  Unity 
of  action  ii.  259.  We 
are  confcious  of  internal 
actioji  as  iri  the  head  ii. 
324.  Internal  action  may 
proceed  witliout  our  be- 
ing confcious  of  ic  ii.324. 

.^..(Stion  aad  reaction  betwixt 
a  paliion  and  its  object 
i   69 

ActorJ  bombaft  actor  i.  i  52. 
The  chief  talents  of  an. 
actor  i.  269.  An  actor 
fhould  feel  the  paffion  he 
reprefents  i.  284  Dif- 
ference as  to  pronuncia- 
tion betwixt  th"  French 
and  Engli/h  actors  i  288. 
Note. 

Admiration  i.  69.  159. 

^neid.     See  Virgil. 

Affectation  i.  211,  212. 

P.  3  Affsc^-- 


I      N      D 

AfFcdtion)  to  children  ac- 
counted for  i.  37.  To 
blood-relationsi.  38.  Af- 
fection for  what  belongs 
to  us  i.  38.  Social  affec- 
tions more  refined  than 
felfiih  i.  64.  Affection  in 
what  manner  inflamed  in- 
to a  paffion  i.  68.  Op- 
pofed  to  propenfity  i.  71. 
Affection  to  children  en- 
dures longer  than  any  o 
ther  affection  i.  71.  O- 
pinion  and  belief  influen- 
ced by  affection  i.  99. 
Affection  defined  i.  252. 
ii.  336. 
Agamemnon)of  Seneca  cen- 

fured  i   307. 

Agreeable     emotions     and 

paffionsi.  59,  ^c.  Things 

neither  agreeable  nor  dif- 

agreeable.     See  Object. 

Alceftes)  of  Euripides  cen- 

fured  i  322.  ii.  271.  272. 

Alexandre)  of  Racine  cen- 

fured  i.  298. 
Alexandrine  line  ii.  78- 
Allegory)  defined    ii.    177 
More  diflicult  in  painting 
than  in    poetry  ii.   187. 
In  an  hifl:orical  poem,  ii. 
251. 
All   for    love)    of   Dryden 

cenfured  i.  312. 

Alto  lelievo  ii.  303. 

Ambiguity)   occafioned   by 

a  wiong  choice  of  words 

ii.   14,  occafioned   by   a 

w*onj  arrangement  ii.  36. 

i^ynta)  of  Taflb  cenfured 


E      X. 

J>nor  p atria)  accounted  for 

i   40. 
Amphibrachys  ii.  114. 
Amphimacer  ii.  1 14. 
Analytic)  and  fynthetic  me- 
thods of  reafoning  com- 
pared i.  6. 
Anapertus  ii    114. 
An^er)  explained  i.  44,  i^c. 
Frequently  comes  to  its 
he'ght  inftantaneoiifly  i. 
68.     Decays  fuddenly  i. 
70.     Sometimes  exerted 
agninft    the    innocent    i. 
95,     and     even     againll 
things    inanimate    i    95. 
Not    infectious    i.    iio. 
Has  nodignityin  it  i  221. 
Angle)  largefl:  and  fmalleft 

Tingle  of  vifion  i.  105. 
Animals)  diftributed  by  na- 
ture into  clafles  ii.  3  14. 
\nribacchius  ii.  1 14. 
Anticlimax  ii.  60. 
\ntifpaltus  ii    i  i  5. 
Antithefis    ii.    19.     V^erbal 

antithefis  i.  245.  ii    19. 
ApoflTophe  Ii.  163,  l^c. 
Appearance)    things  ought 
to  be  defcribed  in  poetry, 
as    they    appear,  not  as 
they  are  in  reality  ii.  207. 
Appetite)  defined  i.  19.  Ap- 
petites of  hunger,  thiitt, 
animal  love,  arife  with- 
out an  object  i.  32.  Ap- 
petite for  fame  or  efteem,  , 
i.   1 1 7. 
Apprehenfion)  dullnefs  and 
quicknefs  of  apprehenfi- 
.  on,  to  v.'hat  caufes  owing^ 
i.  189.  190. 

Architefturec 


I       N       D 

Archlteflure  ch.  24.  Gran- 
deur of  manner  in  nrchi- 
tecture  i.  142.  The  fi 
tuation  of  a  great  houf.' 
ought  to  be  lofty  i.  209. 
A  playhonle  or  a  iv.ullc- 
room  lulceptible  oi  iiiuch 
ornament  i.  210.  What 
emotions  can  be  railed  by 
architecture  ii.  277.  Its 
emotions  compared  with 
thofe  of  gardening  ii  277. 
Every  building  ought  to 
have  an  exprellion  iuited 
to  its  deftination  ii.  277. 
299.  Simplicity  ought  to 
be  the  governing  tatte  ii 
277.  Regularity  to  be 
ftudied  ii.  2So-  294.  Ex- 
ternal form  of  dwelling 
lioufes  ii.  292.  293.  Di" 
vilions  within  ii.  293  301 . 
A  palace  ought  to  be  re- 
gular,but  inafmall  houfe 
convenience  ought  to  be 
preferred  11.  291.  293.  A 
dwelling  houle  ought  to 
be  fuited  to  the  climate 
ii.  294-  Congruity  ought 
to  be  (ludied  ii.  299. 
ArchiteiSture governed  by 
principles  that  produce 
oppofite  effects  ii.  301. 
502.  Different  ornaments 
employ'd  in  it  ii.  302. 
Witticifms  in  architec 
ture  ii.  309.  Allegorical 
or  emblematic  ornaments 
ii.  309.  310.  Architec- 
ture infpires  a  taite  for 
neatnefs  and  regularity 
ii.  311. 


E       X. 

Arioflo)  cenfured  i.  20 r. 
202.  ii    260. 

Ariilaeu^)  the  epifode  of  A- 
rifisE'.is  in  the  Georgics 
ceniured  ii    113. 

AriRotle)  ceniured  ii.  327. 
Not?. 

Army)  defined  ii    341. 

Arrangement)  the  beft  ar- 
rangement of  words  is  to 
place  them  if  pofiible  in 
an  increafing  (eiies  ii.  i  !. 
Arrangement  of  members 
in  a  period  ii.  1 2.  Of 
periods  in  a  difcourfe  ii. 
12.  Ambiguity  from 
wrong  arrangement  ii. 
36.  Arrangement  natu- 
ral and  inverted  ii    54. 

.Articulate  founds)  how  far 
agreeable  ii.   5.  6.  7.  8. 

Artificial  mount  ii.  285. 

Arts)      See  Fine  arts. 

Afcent)  pleafant,  but  def- 
cent -not  painful  i.  135. 

Athalie)  of  Racine  ceniured 
r.  307. 

Attention)  defined  ii.  337. 
Imprefiion  made  by  ob- 
jects depends  on  the  de- 
gree of  attention  ii.  337. 
Attention  not  always  vo- 
luntary ii.  338.  339. 

■Attractive  paifioiis  i.  275. 

Attradive  objed  i.  in. 

Attradlive  figns  of  paffion 
i.  275. 

Attributes)  transferred  by 
a  figure  of  fpeech  frcai 
one  fubje£t  to  another  ii. 
172.  Cff. 

Avarice)  defined  i.  17. 

^Avenue) 


I      N      D 

Avenue)  to  a  houfe  ii,  285. 
Averfioii)  defined  i.69.  i  52. 
''•  111- 

Bacchius  ii.  i  '4- 

Hajazet)  of  Racine  cenfu- 
red  i,  320, 

Barren  fcene)  defined  ii.  261. 

Bafe)  of  a  column  ii.  307. 

Baffo-relievo  ii    303. 

Batrachomuoniachia)  cen- 
fured  i.  228 

Beauty)  ch.  3.  Intrinfic  and 
relative  i.  120.  ii.  286. 
Beauty  of  fimplicity  i. 
122.  of  figure  i.  i  22.  of 
the  circle  i.  124.  of  the 
fquare  i.  124.  of  a  regu- 
lar polygon  i.  124  of  a 
parallelogram  i.  1 24  of  an 
equilateral  triangle  i.  i  24. 
Whether  beauty  be  a  pri- 
mary or  fecondaiy  quality 
of  objects  i.  126.  Beauty 
diftinguifhed  from  gran- 
deur i.  130.  Beauty  of 
natural  colours  i  203. 
Beauty  diftinguiflied  from 
congruity  i.  209.  l^c. 
Confummate  beauty  fel- 
dom  produces  a  conftant 
lover  i.  258.  l^c.  Where- 
in confirts  the  beauty  of 
the  human  vifage  i.  266 
Beauty  proper  and  figu- 
rative ii.  333. 

Behaviour)  grofs  and  refined 
i.  65. 

Belief)  of  the  reality  of  ex- 
ternal  objedls  i.  48.  In- 
forced  by  a  lively  narra- 
tive, or  a  good  hiflorical 


E        X. 

painting  i.  57.  Influenced 
by  paflion  i.  99  ii.  146. 
165.  Influenced  by  pro- 
penfiiy  i  99.  Influenced 
by  atfeftion  i.  99. 

Benevolence  operates  in 
conjandion  withfelf-love 
to  make  us  happy  i.  ?  12. 
Benevolence  infpired  by 
gardening  ii.  290. 

Berkeley)  cenfured  ii.  328. 
l<!ote. 

Blank  verfe  ii.  77.  102.  Its 
aptitude  for  inverfion  ii. 
104.  Its  melody  ii.  104, 
How  far  proper  in  trage- 
dy ii.  257. 

Body)  defined  ii.  323. 

Boileau)  cenfured  ii.  162. 
284. 

Bombaft  i,  149.  Bombaft 
in  action  i.  1  52. 

Boifu)    cenfured    ii.    263. 

Burlefque)  machinery  does 
well  in  a  burlefque  poem 
i.  58.  Burlefque  diftin- 
guifhed into  two  kinds  i. 
227. 

Bufinefs)  men  of  middle  age 
beft  qualified  for  it  i.  190. 

Cadence  ii.  61.  74. 

Capital)  of  a  column  ii. 
306. 

Careiefs  Hu(band)  its  dou- 
ble plot  welJ  contrived 
ii.  255. 

Cafcade  i.  i  56. 

Caufe)  refembling  caufes 
may  produce  effects  that 
have    no    refemblance  ; , 


I      N      D 

and  caufes  that  have  no 
refeniblance  mav  produce 
refenibh'ng  effects  ii.  56. 
Caufe  defined  ii.  341, 

Chnnce)  the  m?nd  revolts 
againft.  misfortunes  that 
happen  by  chance  ii  243 

Charadcr)  to  dravi^  a  cha- 
racter is  the  mailer  ftroke 
of  defcription  ii    21 3. 

Charadterirtics)  of  Shaftef- 
bury  cridcifed  i.  210. 
N-jte. 

Children)  love  to  them  ac- 
counted for  i.  38.  A  child 
can  difcover  a  paflion 
from  its  external  iigns  i. 
276.  Hides  none  of  its 
emotions  i.  2S2. 

Chinefe  gardens  il.  288. 
Wondei  and  furprize  ftu- 
died  in  them  ii.  288. 

Choreus  ii.  1 14. 

Choriambus  ii.  1 1  5. 

Chorus)  an  elTentiai  part  of 
the  Grecian  tragedy  ii. 
264. 

Church)  what  ought  to  be 
its  form  and  fituation  ii. 
300. 

Cicero)  cenfured  ii.  52  62. 

Cid)  of  Corneille  cenfured 
i.  291.  310. 

Cinna)  of  Corneille  cenfu- 
red i.  212.  289    307. 

Circle)  its  beaury  i.  124. 

Circumftarces)  in  a  period, 
where  theyfhould  be  pla- 
ced ii.  40.  45. 

Cla(s)  all  living  creatures 
diilributed  into  claiTes  ii. 
3'4« 


:     X. 

Climax)  in  fenfe  i.  i  39  190. 
ii.  49  In  found  ii  i  2. 
When  thefe  are  joined, 
the  fentence  is  delightful 
ii.  60. 

Coephores)  of  Efchylus 
cenfured  i.  265. 

Coexiftent)  emotions  and 
palHons  i    72.  lf!c. 

Colonnade)  where  proper 
ii.  294. 

Colour)  gold  and  filver  ef- 
teemedfor  their  beautiful 
CO  ours  i.  1  2  1 .  A  fecon- 
dary  quality  i.  126.  Na- 
tural colours  i.  203.  Co- 
louring of  the  human 
face,  exquifite  i.  203. 

Columns)  every  column 
ought  to  have  a  bafe  i. 
108.  The  bafe  ought  to 
be  fquare  i.  109.  Co- 
lumns admit  different 
proportions  ii  298.  What 
emotions  they  rPil'e  it. 
298.  Co!un)n  morebeau- 
tiful  than  a  pilafter  ii. 
305.  Its  form  ii.  306. 
Five  orders  of  columns 
ii.  307.  Capital  of  the 
Corintliian  order  cenfured 
ii.  308. 

Comedy)  double  plot  in  a 
comedy  ii.  255.  Modern 
manners  do  belt  in  come- 
dy ii  245.  Immorality 
of  Engiilh  comedies  i  27. 

Comet)  motion  of  the  co- 
mets and  planets  compa- 
red with  refped  to  beau- 
ty i.  1  54. 

Couimencement)  of  a  work 
ought 


I      N      D 

ought  to  be  niodeft  and 
fiinple  ii.  207. 
Common  nature)  in  every 
fpecies  of  animals  i  6j. 
ii.  314.  We  have  a  con- 
viction that  this  common 
nature  is  invariable  ii. 
.  314.  Alfo  that  it  is 
perfeft  or  right  i.  61.  ii. 

Common  fenfe  ii.  315.  322. 

Communication  of  paliion 
to  related  objefts.  See 
Paffion.  Communication 
of  qualities  to  related 
objects.    See  Propenfity. 

Comparifon  i.  172,  l^c.  ch. 
19  In  the  early  compo- 
fitions  of  all  nations, 
comparifons  are  carried 
beyond  proper  bounds  ii. 
1 1  7.  Comparifons  that 
refolve  into  a  play  of 
words  ii.  140. 

Complex  emotion  i.  73,  ^r. 

Complex  object)  its  power 
to  generate  paffion  i.  40. 
146. 

Complex  perception  ii.  331. 

Complexion)  what  colour 
of  drefs  is  the  moft  fu it- 
able  to  different  com- 
plexions i.  184. 

Conception)  defined  ii.  325. 

Concord)  or  harmony  in 
objects  of  fight  i.  74.  75. 

Concordant  founds)  defined 
i.  72. 

Congreve)  cenfured  i.  28. 
229.270.  Note.  ii.  257. 
261. 

Congruity  and  propriety 
ch.    10,      A   fecondary 


E       X. 

relation  i.  209.  Note. 
Congruity  diftinguilhed 
from  beauty  i.  209.  DiC* 
tinguifnedfrom  propriety 
i.  210.  As  to  quantity, 
congruity  coincides  vf'uh. 
proportion  i    215. 

Connexion)  efTential  in  all 
compofitions  i.  8. 

Conquefl:  of  Granada)  of 
Dryden  cenfured  i.  311. 

Confonants  ii.  6. 

Conltancy)  confummatc 
beauty  the  caufe  of  in- 
conftancy  i.  258.  259. 

Conftru£tion)  of  language 
explained  ii.  30,  l^c. 

Contemplation)  when  pain- 
ful i.  195. 

Contempt)  raifed  by  impro* 
per  action  i.  196. 

Contrail:  ch.  8.  Its  effect 
in  language  ii  9.  In  a 
feries  of  objects  ii  11. 
Contraft  in  the  thought 
requires  contrail  in  the 
members  of  the  expreffi, 
on  ii.  25.  26.  The  effect 
of  contrail  in  gardening 
ii.  289. 

Convitlion)  intuitive.  See 
Intuitive  convitiion. 

Copulative)  to  drop  the  co» 
pulative  enlivens  the  ex- 
preflion  ii.  28,  ^c. 

Coriolanus)  of  Shakefpear 
cenfured  i.  311. 

Corneille)  cenfured  i.  287. 
302.  319.  3'^i- 

Corporeal  pleafurei.  i.Intr. 
Low  and  fometiines  mean 

i.  2ZI. 
I  Couplet 


I      N      D 

Couplet  ii.  78.  Rules  for 
its    compofition    ii.    77. 

102- 

Courage)  of  greater  dignity 
than   jultice  i.  220. 

Creticus  ii.  t  1  4. 

Criminal)  the  hour  of  exe- 
cution feems  to  hirn  to 
approach  with  a  fwlfc 
pace  i.  100. 

Criticifm)  its  advantages  i. 
5.  ^c.  Intr.  Its  terms 
not  accurately  defined  i. 
277. 

Crowd)  defined  ii.  340. 

Curiofity  i>  i  59    '71. 

Cuftoni  and  habit  ch.  14. 
Renders  obje(Sls  familiar 
i.  t6o.  Curtom  dillin- 
guiilied  from  habit  i.  249 
250.  Cullom  puts  the 
rich  and  poor  upon  a  le- 
vel i.  t6z.  Taite  in  the 
fine  arts  improved  by 
cuftom  ii.  321.     Note. 

Daftyle  ii.  1 14. 
Davila)  cenfured  i.  200. 
Declenfions)    explained   ii. 

3I-32- 
Dedications.      See  Epiftles 

Dedicatory. 
Delicacy)  of  tafte  i.  64.  ii. 

302. 
Derifion  i.  214.  227. 
Des    Cartes)    cenfured    ii. 

327.      Note. 
Delcent)  not  painful  i.  335. 
Defcription)   it  animates  a 

detcription    to   reprefent^ 

things  paft  as  prefent  i 

54.  The  rules  that  ought 


:     X. 

to  govern  it  if.  206.  A 
lively  defcription  is  a- 
greeable,  though  the  fub- 
jecr  defcribed  be  difagree- 
able  ii.  230  No  objeds 
but  thofe  of  fight  can  be 
well   delcribed    ii.    331. 

Defciiptive  perfonification 
ii.  151. 

Defcriprive  tragedy  i,  281J. 

Defire)  defined  i.  i8.  It 
impells  us  to  action  i.  ig. 
It  determines  the  will  f. 
1 10.  Defire  in  a  crimi- 
nal to  be  punilTied  i.  114. 
Difire  tends  the  molt  to 
h.ippinefs  when  moderate 
i.   128. 

Dialogue)  dialogue-writing 
requires  great  genius  i. 
283,  i^c.  In  dialogue 
every  exprefiion  ought  to 
be  fuited  to  the  character 
of  the  fpeaker  ii.  222. 
Dialogue  makes  a  deeper 
i.nprefiion  than  nai  ration 
ii.  237.  Qualified  for 
expreifing  feutiments  ii. 
245.  246.  Rules  for  ic 
ii.  256,  l^c. 

Dignity  and  grace  ch.  il. 
Dignity  of  human  nature 

.!'•  3 '6. 
Diiambus  ii.  1 1  5. 
Diphthongs  ii   6. 
iJifagreeable  emotions  and 

pafTions  i.  59,  i^c. 
Difcordant  founds)  defined 

i.  72. 
Difpondeus  ii.  1 1  5. 
Difpofition  defined  ii.  ^I'i^- 
Diffimilar 


1      N      D 

Difliinilar  emotions  i.  73. 
Their  effects  when  co- 
exiftent  i.  76.  77.  ii.  279 
298. 

DifTiinilsr  paflions)  their 
effects   i    83    84. 

Diflbcial  pal7i.)ns  i.  22.  Ail 
of  them  painful  i.  61. 
andalfodiiagieeablei  62. 

Dillance)  the  natural  me- 
thod of  computing  the 
(liilance  of  objects  i.  105. 
ic6;  ^f.  Errors  to 
vvh'ch  this  computation 
^    is  liable  ii.  297.  302. 

Ditrochaus  ii.  1 1  5. 

Dooi)  its  proportions  u.2g2. 

Double  adion)  in  an  epic 
poem  li.  260. 

Double  dealer)  of  Congreve 
cenfured  i.  307.  ii.  261. 

Double  plot)  in  a  dramatic 
compofition  ii.  253 

Drams)  antient  and  modern 
comj.fered  ii.  264. 

Dramatic  poetry  ch.  22- 

Drapery)  ought  to  hang 
loofe  i.  109. 

Drefs)  rules  about  drefs  i. 
2J  I.  ii.  ^-B. 

Dryden)  cenfured  ii.  186. 
256.  261. 

Duties)  moral  duties  diftin- 
guifhed  into  thofe  which 
refpect  ourfelves  and 
thofe  which  reipefl others 
i.  216.  Foundation  of 
dunes  that  refpeft  our- 
felves i  216.  of  thofe 
that  refpedl  others  i  216. 
Duty,  of  acting  up  to  the 
dignity  of  our  nature  i. 
319  2ao. 


E        X. 

Dwelling  hoiife)  its  external 
form  ii,  294.  Internal 
form  ii.  293.  301. 

Education)  promoted  by  the 
fire  arts  i.  5,  6.  Intr.  ii. 
$90. 

EfFeds)  refembling  effeiSts 
may  be  produced  by  cau- 
fes  that  have  no  refem- 
blance  ii.  56.  Effect  de- 
fined ii.  341. 

Efiicient  caufe)  of  lefs  im- 
port'ince  that  the  final 
caufe  i    222. 

Eledfra)  of  Sophocles  cen- 
fured i.  265. 

Elevation  i.  122,  ^f.  Real 
and  figurative  intimately 
connected  i.  .136.  Figu- 
rative elevation  diflin- 
guifhed  from  figurative 
grandeur  ii.  136.  137. 

Emotion)  what  feelings  are 
termed  emotions  i.  12. 
Emotions  defined  i.  14, 
yr.  And  their  caufes 
alligned  i,  14.  Dillin- 
guilhed  from  pafTions  i. 
1 7.  Emotion  generated 
by  relations  i.  34,  Cff<r. 
Emotions  expanded  upon 
related  objects  i  36,  Is'c. 
ii.  44.  55.  73-  93-  h8. 
192.  Emotions  diftin- 
guillied  into  piimary  and 
fecondary  i.  J  3 7.  Raifed 
by  fiaion  i-  48,  Ciff.  Rai- 
fed by  painting  i.  54. 
Emotions  divided  into 
pleafant  and  painful,  a- 
greeable  and  difagreeable 
'•  59 


INDEX. 


59.  £^ 


c-  n.  333. 


The 


interrupted   exiftence  of 
emotions  i.  65,  ^c.  Their 
growth  and  decay  i.  65, 
&c.   Their  identity  i.  66. 
Coexiftent  emotions  i.  72, 
SiC.       Emotions    finiilar 
and  dilTimilar  i.  73.  Com- 
plex emotions  i.  73.  Ef- 
fects of  fimilar  coexiftent 
emotions  i.   73.  ii.  298. 
Eftects  of  dilTimilar  coex-' 
iftent  emotions  i.  76.  ii. 
279.    Influence  of  emo- 
tions upon  our  percepti- 
ons, opinions,  and  belief 
i.  91,  &c   106.  107.  178. 
ii.    146.    163.   165,  &c 
EmotionS^refemble  their 
caufes  i.  108,  &c.   Emo- 
tion of  grandeur  i.  129, 
&c.  of  fublimity  i.  129. 
A   low  emotion  i.   136 
Emotion  of  laughter  ch 
7.    of    ridicule    i.     169 
Emotions  when  contraft 
ed  ftiould  not  be  too  flow 
nor    too  quick    in   thei; 
fucceflion  i.  186.    Emo- 
tions raifed  by  the    fine 
arts  ought  to  be  contiafl:- 
ed    in  fucceflion  i.   186 
Emotion  of  congruity  i 
212.  of  propriety  i,  212 
Emotions    produced    by 
human    adtions    i.    219 
Ranked  according  totheir 
dignity  i,  220.    External 
figns  of  emotions  ch.  i  5. 
Attractive  and   repulfive 
emotions  i,  275.      VVha^ 
emotions  do  heft  in  fuc- 


ceflion, what  in  conjunc. 
tion  ii.  278.  What  emo- 
tions are  raifed  by  the 
productions  of  manufac- 
tures ii.  290,  Note.  Man 
is  paffive  with  regard  to 
his  emotions  ii.  324.  We 
are  confcious  of  emotions 
as  in  the  heart  ii.  324. 

Emphafis    defined    ii.    95, 
Note.     Ought   never    to» 
be   but  upon   woids   of 
importance  ii.  62.  94. 

Eneid)  its  unity  of  action 
ii.  260. 

Englifh  plays)  generally  ir- 
regular ii.  274.  Englifh 
comedies  generally  licen- 
tious i.  27. 

Englifh  tongue)  too  rough 
ii.  9.  In  Englifh  words 
the  long  fyllable  is  put 
early  ii.  7.  Note.  Englifh 
tongue  more  grave  and 
fedate  in  its  tone  than  the 
French  ii.  96.  Note.  Pe- 
culiarly qualified  for  per- 
fonification  ii.  i  50,  Note, 

Entablature  ii.  305. 

iLnvy)  defined  i.  18.  How- 
generated  i.  68.  Why  it 
is  perpetual  i.  70.  It 
magnifies  every  bad  qua- 
lity in  its  objedt  i.  95. 

Epic  poem)  no  improbable 
fadl  ought  to  be  admitted 
i.  57.  58.  Machineiy  in 
it  has  a  bad  effect  i.  5?. 
59.  It  doth  not  always 
reje£t  ludicrous  images  J. 
188.  Its  commencement 
ought  to  be  modefl  and 
Q^  fjmple 


I      N      D 

limple  ii.  207.  In  what 
refpeiSt  it  differs  from  a 
tragedy  ii.  235.  236.  Dif- 
tinguilLed  into  pathetic 
and  moral  ii.  237.  Its 
good  effects  ii  238.  Com- 
psred  with  tragedy  as  to 
the  fubjects  proper  for 
each  ii.  259.  How  far 
it  may  borrow  from  hif- 
tory  ii.  244.  Rule  for 
dividing  it  into  parts  ii, 
245. 

Epic  poetry  ch.  22. 

Epicurus)  cenfured  ii.  327. 
Note. 

Epifode)  in  an  hiftorical 
poem  ii.  252.  Requifues 
ii.  252. 

Epiftles  dedicatory)  cenfur- 
ed i.  207.  208.  Note. 

Epithets)  redundant  ii.  229. 

Epitritus  ii.  115. 

Eflay  on  man)  criticifed  ii. 

113. 

Elleem)  love  of  i.  117.1 42 

Efther)  of  Racine  cenfured 
i.  306   310. 

Eunuch)  of  Terence  cen- 
fured i.  323 

Euripides)  cenfured  i.  322. 
ii.  265. 

Evergreens)  cut  in  thelhape 
of  animals  ii.  283,  &c. 

Effedt  of  experience  with 
refpeQ  to  tafte  in  the  fine 
arts  ii.  321.   Note. 

Expreffion)  elevated,  low  1. 
137.  Exprellion  that  has 
nodiftinct  meaning!. 328. 
Members  of  a  fentence 
cxpreffing  a  refcmblance 


:     X. 

betwixt  two  objects, 
cugli-t  to  refemble  each 
other  ii.  23,  &c.  Force 
of  exprelTion  by  fufpend- 
ing  the  thought  till  the 
clofe  ii.  50. 

External  obje£ls)  their  rea- 
lity  i.  48.  49. 

External  fenfes)  diftinguifli- 
ed  into  two  kinds  i,  1. 
Intr.     External  fenfe  ii. 

External  figns)  of  emotions 
and  paffions  ch.  15.  Ex- 
ternal figns  of  paffion, 
what  emotions  they  raife 
in  a  fpedtator  i  60,  &c. 

Eye-light)  influenced  by 
pailion  i.  106.  107.  178. 
180. 

Face)  though  uniformity 
prevail  in  the  human  face, 
yet  every  face  is  didin- 
guifhable  from  another 
i.  205. 

Faculty)  by  which  we  know 
pailion  from  its  external 
figns  i.  212. 

Fairy  Queen)  criticifed  ii. 
182. 

Falie  quantity)  painful  to 
the  ear  ii.  79 

Fame)  love  of  i    117. 

Familiarity)  its  effect!.  68. 
159.  ii.  192.  it  v/ears  otf 
by  abfencc  i.  164. 

Fafliion)  its  influence  ac- 
counted for  i.  36.  Fafh- 
ion  is  in  a  continued  flux 
i.  126. 

Fear)  explained  i.  44,  he. 
Rifes 


I      N      D 

f^ifes  often  to  its  utmoft 
pitch  in  an  inftant  i.  68. 
Fear  arifing  from  affedtion 
or  averfion  t.  69.  Fcai 
is  infedious  i.  no. 

Feeling)  its  different  fignifi. 
cations  ii.  324 

Fidion)  emotions  raifed  by 
fiction  i.  48,  &c. 

Figure)  beaut/  of  i,  122. 
Definition  of  a  regular 
figure  ii.  333,  &c. 

Figures)  fome  paffions  fa- 
vourable to  figurative  ex- 
prelTion  i.  314.  u.  131. 
Figures  ch.  20.  Figure 
of  fpeech  ii.  153,  &c. 
171.  190,  &c.  Figures 
were  otold  much  (trained 
ii.  117.  181. 

Final  caufe)  defined  i.  222 
Final  caufe  of  our  fenfe 
of  order  and  connection 
i,  12.  of  the  fympathetic 
emotion  of  virtue  i.  33. 
of  the  inftinctive  paflion 
of  fear  i.  44.  45.  of  the 
inftinflivepailion  of  anger 
i,  4S.  of  ideal  prefence  i. 
56,  &c.  of  the  power 
that  fiction  has  over  the 
mind  i.  58.  of  emotions 
and  paffions  i.  iio,  &c 
of  the  communication  ot 
palTion'to  related  objects 
i.  117,  of  regularity, 
uniformity,  order,  and 
fimplicity  i.  123.  of  pro- 
portion i.  123.  of  beauty 
i.  127.  Why  certain 
objects  are  neither  piea- 
fant  nor  painful  i.  134. 


E       X. 

135. 154.  of  the  pleafure 
we  have  in  motion  and 
force  i.  158.  of  curiofity 
i.  I  59  of  wonder  i.  166. 
of  furprife  i.  167  of  the 
principle  that  prompts  us 
to  perfect  every  work  i. 
182.  of  the  pleafure  or 
pain  that  refults  from  the 
different  circumftances  of 
a  train  of  perceptions  i. 
197,  &c.  of  congruity 
and  propriety  i.  21  5,  &c. 
of  dignity  and  meannefs 
i,  223  of  habit  i.  261, 
&c.  of  the  external  figns 
of  paffion  and  emotion  i. 
271.277,  &c.  Why  ar- 
ticulate founds  fingly  a- 
greeable  are  always  a- 
greeable  in  conjunction 
ii.  6  7.  of  the  pleafure 
we  have  in  language  ii. 
231.  of  our  reli/h  for 
various  proportions  in 
quantity  ii.  296.  Why 
delicacy  of  talle  is  with 
held  from  the  bulk  of 
mankind  ii.  313.  of  our 
conviction  of  a  common 
ftandard  in  every  fpecics 
of  beings  ii.  316.  of  u- 
niformity  of  tafte  in  the 
fine  arts  ii.  316.  317. 
Why  the  fenfe  of  a  right 
and  a  wrong  in  the  fine 
arts  is  lefs  clear  than  the 
fenfe  of  a  right  and  wrong 
in  actions  ii.  319.  Final 
caufe  of  greater  impor- 
tance than  the  efficient 
caufe  i.  222. 

0,2  Fine 


INDEX. 


Fine  arts)  defined  i'-.  4  9. 
Intr.  A  fubject  of  rea- 
foning  i.  5.  Intr.  Educa- 
tion promoted  by  the 
fine  arts  i,  56.  Intr.  ii, 
290.  The  fine  arts  a 
great  fupport  to  nnorality 
i.  6,  &c.  Intr.  ii.  290. 
311,  &c.  Their  emotions 
ougHt  to  be  conrrafted  in 
fuccelfion  i.  186.  Unifor- 
mity- and  \zx\tty  in  the 
fine  arts  i.  199.  Confi- 
dered  with  refpect  to 
dignity  i.  222.  How  far 
they  may  be  regulated  by 
cuftom  i.  263.  None  of 
them  are  imitative  but 
painting  and  fculpture  ii. 
3.  Aberrations  from  a 
true  tafte  in  thefe  arts  ii. 
318.  Who  qualified  to 
be  judges  in  the  fiae  arts 
ii.  320. 

Fluid)  motion  of  fluids  i. 

T.  '55- 
Foot)  the  effect  that  fylla- 

bles   collected   into  feet 

have  upon  the  ear  ii.  28 

Mufical    feet   defined  ii 

69,   Note.  A  lift  of  verfe 

feet  ii.  114. 

Force)  produces  a  feeling 
that  refembles  it  i.  108. 
Force  ch.  5.  Moving 
force  i.  155.  Foice  gives 
a  pleafure  differing  from 
that  of  motion  i,  i  55.  It 
contributes  to  grandeur 
i.   156. 

Foreign)  preference  given 
10  foreign  curiofiti«s  i. 
165. 


Fountains)  in  what  {(ftm 
they  ought  to  be  ii.  286. 

Fiench  dramatic  writers) 
critrcifed  i.  287.  Note. 
307.  ii.  274. 

French  verle)  requires 
rhyme  ii.  1 1 1. 

French  language)  morelive^ 
ly  to  the  ear  than  the 
Englifh  ii.  96.  Note.  In 
French  words  the  laft 
fyllable  generally  long 
and  accented  ii.  96.  Note. 

Friendfhip)  confidered  with 
refpect  to  dignity  and 
meannefs  i.  221.  222. 

Gallery)  v^hy  it  appears 
longer  than  it  is  in  reality 
ii.  282.  Is  not  En  agree- 
able figure  of  a  room  ii. 
299. 

Games)  public  games  of 
the  Greeks  i    156. 

Ga'dening)  a  fine  garden 
gives  luftre  to  the  owner 
i.  37.  Note.  Grandeur  of 
manner  in  gardening  i. 
146.  Its  emotions  ought 
to  be  contrafted  in  fuc- 
ceflion  i.  186.  A  fmall 
garden  fhould  be  confined 
to  a  fingle  expreffion  i. 
187.  ii.  276.  A  garden 
near  a  great  ciTy  (hould 
have  an  air  of  folir.ude  i. 
1 87.  A  garden  in  a  wild 
country  fhould  be  gay  and 
fplendid  i.  187.  Gar- 
dening ch.  24.  What 
emotions  can  be  raifed 
by  it  ii.  276.  Its  emoti. 
oils 


I      N      D 

ons  compared  with  thofe 
of  architecture  ii.   276 
Simplicity  ought    to    be 
the    governing    tafte    ii 
277     Wherein  the  uni^y 
of  a  garden   condfts    ii. 
279.    280         How    fa 
fliould  regularity  he  ftu- 
died  in  it  ii,  280.  Refem- 
blance  carried  too  far  in 
it  ii.   280    Note.    Gran- 
deur in  gardening  ii  281 
Every  unnatural   object 
ought  to  be  rejected  ii. 
283.     Diflant  and  faint 
imitations     difpleafe    ii. 
283.    Winter  garden  ii. 
287.  The  effect  of  giving 
play   to  the  imagination 
ii.   289.      Gardening  in- 
fpires  benevolence  ii  290. 
And  contributes  to  recti- 
tude of  manners  ii.  31  t . 

General  idea)  there  cannot 
be  fuch  a  thing  ii  330 
Note. 

General  terms)  fliould  be 
avoided  in  compofitions 
for  amufement  i  146.  ii. 
223. 

General  theorems)  why  a- 
greeable  i.  225. 

Generic  habit)  defined  i. 
256. 

Generofity)  why  of  greater 
dignity  than  J ufticei.  220. 

Genus)  defined  ii.  338. 

Geftures)  that  accompany 
the  different  paffions  i. 
267.  268.  270.  271. 

Gierufaleme  liberata)  cen- 
lured  ii.  248,  251. 


E      X. 

Globe)  a  beautiful  figure  J.' 
201. 

Good-iature)  why  of  lefa 
dignity  than  courage  or 
generofity  i.  220. 

Gothic  tower)  its  beauty  ii. 
292.  Gothic  form  of 
buildings  ii.  301. 

Government)  natural  foun- 
dation of  fubmiifion  to 
government  i.  117. 

Grace  ch.  1 1 .  Grace  of 
motion  i.  i  58.  Grace  a- 
nalyfed  i,  224,  &c. 

Grandeur  and  fublimity  ch. 
4.  Diftinguifhed  from 
beauty  i.  130.  Grandeur 
demands  not  ftrii5t  regu- 
larity i.  131.  Regularity, 
order,  and  proportion, 
contribute  to  grandeur  i. 
131.  Real  and  figurative 
grandeur  intimately  con- 
nected 1,138.  Grandeur 
of  manner  i,  143,  Gran- 
deur may  be  employed 
indirectly  to  humble  the 
mind  i.  148.  Suits  ill. 
with  wit  and  ridicule  i. 
187.  Fixes  the  attention 
i.  190.  Figurative  gran- - 
deur  diftinguiflied  from , 
figurative  elevation  ii. 
128.  Grandeur  in  gar- 
dening ii.  281.  Irregu- 
larity and  difproportion 
increafe  in  appearance 
the  fize  of  a  building  ii. 
302. 

Gratification)  of  pa/lion  ?. 
20.  29.  89  178.  ii.  146, 
&C..163,  166.   Obftacies 

CL3  tO: 


I       N      D 

to  gratification  inflame  a 
paiTion  i.  69 

Gratitude)  confidered  with 
refpedl  10  its  gratification 
j.  71.  Exerted  upon  the 
children  of  the  beriefaftor 
i.  93..  Punifhment  of 
ingratitude  i.  2 18.  Gra 
titude  confidered  with 
lefpect  to  dignity  and 
meannefs  i.  221. 

Greek  words)  finely  compo 
fed    of   long   and    fliort 
fyllables  ii    107. 

Grief)  magnifies  its  caufe  i 
94.  Occafions  a  falfe 
reckoning  of  time  i  1 04 
Is  infectious  i.  1 09.  When 
immoderate  isfileot  i.3 1 2. 

Grofs  pleafure  i.  64, 

Group)  natural  objects  rea. 
dily  form  themfelves  into 
groups  i.  206. 

Guido)  cenfured  ii.  187. 

Habit  ch.  14.  Prevails  in 
old  age  i.  190.  Habit 
of  application  to  bufiaefs 
i.  194  196.  199.  Con- 
verts pain  into  pleafure  i. 
198.  199.  Dilli.nguirtied 
from  cullom  i.  250.  Puts 
the  rich  and  poor  upon  a 
level  i.  162. 

Harmony)  or  concord  in 
objects  of  fight  i.  74. 
Harmony  diliinguiftied 
from  melody  ii.  66.  Note. 

Hatred)  huw    produced  i, 
69.    Sigi)ifirs  mjre  com- 
monly affection  than  paf- 
fion  i.  69.    Its  eiitiurance, 
i.  70,, 


E      X. 

Hearing)  in  hearing  we  feel 
no  impreflion  ii,  325. 

Henriade)  cenfured  ii.  21 1. 
244.25.1. 

Hexameter)  Virgil's  Hexa- 
meters extremely  melo- 
dious, thofe  of  Horace 
feidom  {o  ii  66.  And 
the  reafon  why  they  are 
not  ii    77,    Structure  of 

.  an  hexameter  line  ii  69. 
Rules  for  its  flru(5ture  ii. 

69.  70.     Mufical  paufes 
in  an  hexameter  line  ii, 

70.  h'ofe.     Wherein    its 
melody  confifts  ii    77. 

Hiatus)  defined  ii.  7. 

Hippolytus)    of    Euripides 

.  cenfured  i.  309.  ii.  271. 
272. 

Hiftorv)  why  the  hiflory  of 
heroes  and  conquerors  is  . 
fjiiguiarly  agreeable  i.  32. 
140.  By  what  means 
doeshiftory  raife  our  paf- 
fions  i.  52.  53  It  rejedts 
poetical  images  ii.  206., 

Hirtory  painting.  See  paint- 
ing. 

Homer)  defective  in-  oider 
and  connefiion  i.  8.  His 
language  finely  fuited  to 
his  fubjedt  ii.  22.1.  Kis 
repetitions  defended  ii. 
227.  His  poems  in<a 
great  meafuredramaticii. , 
237.     Cenfured  ii.  250. 

Hope  i.  69. 

Horace)  defedlive   in  con- 
nection i.  8.     His  hexa- 
meters not  melodious  ik 
66.  Their  defects  point--- 
ed  out  ii.  77. 

HqixoI'. 


I      N      D 

Horror)  obje(Sts  of  horror 
fhould  be  banifiied  from 
poetry    and    painting  ii. 

Houfe)  a  fine  houfe  gives 
luftre  to  tbo'Owner  i  37' 
Note. 

Human  nature)  a  complica- 
ted machine  i.  13. 

Humanity)  thefineft  temper 
of  mind  i    64. 

Humour)  defined  i.  229 
Humour  in  writing  dif- 
tinguiflied  from  humour 
in  character  i.  229, 

Hyperbole  i.  149.  ii.  165, 
&c. 

Hippobachius  ii.  114, 

Iambic  verfe)  its  modulati- 
on faint  ii.66. 

Iambus  ii.  114. 

Jane  Shore)  cenfured  i.  292, 
&c    302. 

Idea)  not  fo  eafiiy  remem- 
bered as  a  perception  is 
i.  103.  Succeffion  of  i- 
deasi.  189.  Fleafureand 
pain  of  ideas  in  a  train  i. 
194,  &c.  Idea  of  me- 
mory defined  ii  326.  Can- 
rot  be  innate  ii.  327. 
Note.  There  are  no  ge- 
neral ideas  ii  328-.  Note. 
Idea  of  an  objefl  of  fight 
more  diftinct  than  of  any 
other  object  ii.  331 .  Ide- 
as diftinguifhed  into  three 
kinds  ii.  ^^z.  Ideas  of 
imagination  not  fo  plea- 
fant  as  ideas  of  memory 
ii.  ^^6. 


E       X. 

Ideal  prefence  i.  50,  &C^ 
raifed  by  theatrical  re- 
prcfentation  i  54,  raifed 
by  painting  i.  54. 

Ideal  fyftem  ii.  327.  Note. 

Identity  of  a  pailion  or  of 
an  emotion  i.  66. 

Jet  d eau  i.  156.  ii.  283. 
284, 

Jingle  cfwords-fi.  102.  108. 

Iliad)  criticifed  ii.  260. 

Images)  the  life  of  poetry 
and  rhetoric  1.5  2.  57.146. 

Imagination)  not  always  at 
rell  even  in  fleep  i.  168. 
The  great  inftrument  of 
recreation  i.  168.  To 
give  piny  to  it  has  a  good 
etfe(St  in  gardening  ii.  288. 
Its  power  in  fabricating 
images  ii.  332.  336.  A- 
greeablenels  of  ideas  of 
imagination  ii.  ^^6. 

Imitation)  we  naturally  imi- 
tate virtuous  actions  i. 
109.  Not  thofe  that  are 
vicious  i.  1 10.  Inarticu- 
late founds  imitated  in 
words  ii.  55.  None  of 
the  fine  arts  imitate  na- 
ture except  painting  and 
fculpture  ii.  3.  The  a- 
greeablenefs  of  imitation 
overbalances  the  difa- 
greeablenefs  of  the  fub- 
jectii.  231.  DIftant  and 
faint  imitations  difpleafe 
ii.  283. 

Impreffion)  made  on  the  or- 
gan of  fenfe  i.  I.  Intr. 
ii.  325.  Succeffive  iin? 
pieflijns  ii.  1 1. 

Impro- 


I      N      D 


Impropriet)-)  in  action  rai- 
fes  contempt  i  169.  Its 
pur.i.l.pient  i.  213    214. 

Impiii;-;';  z  ftrong  impulfe 
fuccecdincf  a  weak,  makes 
a  double  iiiiprefnon  :  a 
weak  iinpulfe  iiicceeding 
a  llrong,  makes  Icarce  a- 
ny  impicinon  ii.  11. 

Infinite  {erics)  becomes  dif-. 
agreeable  when  prolang- 
ed  i,  181.  A^o/e. 

Innate  idea)  there  cannot 
be  kich  a  thing  ii.  330 

Inftinfl)  we  a<5t  fonietimes 
by  inflindt  i    21.  44,  &c 

Inllrument)  the  means  or 
inihiiment  conceived  to 
be  the  agent  ii.  171. 

Inte'iettiial    pleafure    i.    2. 

Internal  (enfe  ii.  323. 

Intrinfic  beauty  i.   120. 

Intuitive  convidion)  of  the 
veracity  of  our  fenfes  i 
48.  of  the  dignity  of  hu- 
man nature  i.  220.  ii 
316.  of  a  common  na- 
ture or  ftandard  in  every 
fpecies  of  beings  ii.  314 
of  this  ftanddrd  being  in- 
variable ii.  314.  and  of 
its-being  perfeft  or  right 
ji.  314.  Intuitive  con- 
vidion that  the  external 
fjgns  of  paffion  are  natu- 
ral, snd  alfo  that  they  are 
the  fame  in  all  men  i 
275-  276. 

Intuitive  knowledge)  of  ex- 
ternal obtects  j.  a8. 


E       X. 

Tnverfion)  and  inverted  ftyle 
defcribed  ii  33,  &c.  In- 
verfion  ^ives  force  and 
iiveliners  to  the  expreffion 
byfijfpending  the  thought 
till  the  clofe  ii  50.  In* 
verfion  how  regulated  ii. 
53  1:4.  Beauties  of  in- 
vecfion  ii.  53  54.  Inver- 
fion  favourable  to  paufes 
ii.  87.  Full  fcope  tor  it 
in  blank  verfe  ii.  104. 

[nvoluntary  figns)  of  palfi- 
on  i.  267    271. 

[onicus  ii.  1 15. 

Joy)  its  caufe  i.  29.  69- 
Infectious  i  109.  Con- 
fidered  with  refpect  to 
dignity  and  meannefs  i. 
221. 

[phigenia)  of  Racine  cen- 
fured  i.  264. 

Iphigenia  in  Tauris)  cenCi:- 
red  i.  322.  ii.  271.  272. 

irony)  defined  i,  232. 

Italian  tongue)  too  fmooth 
\'i.(^.  Note.  Italian  words 
finely  diverfified  by  long 
and  flioct  fyllables  ii.  7. 
Note. 

Judgment)  and  memory  in 
perfedion,  feldom  united 
i.  4.  5  Judgment  fel- 
dom united  with  wit  i.  5. 

Julius  Caifar)  ofShakefpear 
cenfured  i.  31 1 . 

Juitice)  of  lefs  dignity  than 
generofity  or  courage  i. 
220. 

Kent)  his  Ikill  in  gardening 
ii.  279. 

Key  note 


I      N      D 

Keynote  ii.  6i.  67.  68. 

Kitchen-garden  ii    275. 

Knowledge)intui live  know- 
ledge of  external  objeQs, 
i.  48.  Its  pleafures  ne- 
ver decay  i.  261. 

Labyrinth)  in  a  garden  ii. 
284. 

Landfcape)  why  fo  agreea 
bij  i.  74.  206.  More  a- 
preeable  when  compre 
hended  under  one  view 
ii.  282.  A  landfcape  in 
painting  ought  to  be  con 
fined  to  afingle  exprelHon 
i.  187.  Contraft  ought 
to  prevail  in  it  i   200 

Language)    power   of  Ian 
guage  to  raife  emotions, 
whence  derived  i.  51.  56. 
Language  of  paiBon  ch 
17.    Ought  to  be  fuited 
to  the  fentiments  i.  282 
3'4     S'S     3'^-   broken 
and    inienupted  i.    314 
of  impetuous  palfion   i. 
316  of  languid  paffion  i. 
316   of  cairn  emotions  i. 
315.  of  turbulent  palfi 
ons  i   316.    Examples  of 
language  eevated  above 
the  tone  of  the  feniiment 
i   324     O:  language  too 
artihcial  or  too  figurati\:e 
i   325.   too  light  or  airy 
i.   326      Language  how 
far    imitative  ii,  3      Its 
beauty  with    refpett    to 
(ignification  ii.  4.  12,^^. 
Its  beauty  with  refpe(5t  to 
founds  ii.  5, ^r.  It  ought 


E       X. 

to  correfpond  to  the  fub- 
ject  ii.  16.  219.  Its  ftruc- 
ture  explained  ii.  29  30, 
^c.  Beauty  of  language 
from  a  refemblance  be» 
twixt  found  and  fignifica- 
tion  ii.  3.  54,  isfc.  The 
character  of  a  language 
depends  on  the  character 
of  the  nation  whofe  lan- 
guage it  is  ii.  96  Nole. 
The  force  of  language 
confifts  in  raifing  com- 
plete images  i.  56.  57.  ii. 
209  Its  power  of  pro- 
ducing pleafant  emotion.3 
ii.  231.  Without  lan- 
guage man  would  fcarce 
be  a  rational  beingii  341 . 

Latin  tongue)  fiiiely  diver- 
fified  with  long  and  fliort 
fyllables  ii.  107. 

L'avare)  of  Moliere  cenfu- 
red  i.  309 

Laughter  i.  168. 

Laugh  of  derifion  or  fcorn 
i.   214. 

Law)  defined  i.  216.  217. 

Laws  of  human  nature)  ne- 
cefTary  fuccefiion  of  per- 
ceptions i.  I  1 89  We 
never  act  but  through 
the  impulfe  of  defire  i. 
19.  1 10  An  object  lofes 
its  relifh  by  familiarity  i. 
68.  Paffions  fudden  ia 
their  growth  are  equally 
fudden  in  their  decay  i. 
70.  254.  Every  paffion 
ceafes  upon  obtaining  its 
ultimate  end  i.  70.  An 
agreeable  caufe  produ- 
cctk 


I      N      D 

Wth  always  a  pleafant 
emotion,  and  a  difagree- 
able  caufe  a  painful  e- 
motion  i.  1 1 1. 

Laws  of  motion)  agreeable 
i.   125. 

Les  Freres  ennemies)  of 
Racine  cenfured  i.  298. 

Lewis  XIV.  of  France)  cen 
fured  i.  208.   Note. 

Lex  talionis)  upon  what 
principle  founded  1.  184. 

Line)  definition  of  a  regular 
line  ii.  ^t^^. 

Littienefs)  is  neither  plea- 
fant nor  painful  i.  134. 
Is  connected  with  refpeft 
and  humility  i,  268.  Note. 

Livy)  cenfured  ii.  14. 

Locke)  cenfured  ii.  327. 
Note, 

Logic)  caufe  of  its  obfcu 
rity  and  intricacy  i.  277. 

Logio)  improper  in  this  cli- 
mate ii.  294. 

Love)  to  children  account- 
ed for  i.  38.  The  love  a 
man  bears  to  his  country 
explained  i.  40.  Love 
produced  by  pity  i.  42. 
Love  gradual  i.  68.  It 
fignifies,  more  commonly 
affection  than  paffion  i. 
69.  Lore  inflamed  by 
the  caprices  of  a  miftrefs 
i.  70.  Its  endurance  i. 
71.  To  a  lover  abfence 
appears  long  i.  100.  Lave 
aifumes  the  qualities  of 
its  object  i.  109  when 
exceJiive  becomes  feifi/h 
i.  128.  confidered  with 
refpect    to    dignity    and 


E      X. 

meannefs  i.  221.   feldom 

conftan  t  when  founded  on 
exquifite  beauty  i  259. 
ill  reprefented  in  French 
plays  i.  307.  when  immo- 
derate is  filent  i    313. 

Love  for  love)  cenfured  ii. 
261. 

Lownefs  is  neither  pleafant 
nor  painful  i.  134. 

Lucan)  too  minute  in  his 
defcriptions  i.  145.  cen» 
fured  ii.  237. 

Ludicrous  i.  168.  may  be 
introduced  into  an  epic 
poem  i.  188. 

Lutrin)  cenfured  for  incon- 
gruity i.  210.  chara^e- 
rifed  i.-  227. 

Luxury)  corrupts  our  tafte 
ii.  320. 

Machinery)  ought  to  be  ex- 
cluded from  an  epic  poem 
i.  57.  ii.  247.  does  well 
in  a  burlefque  poem  t,  58. 

Malice)  how  generated  i. 
68  Why  it  is  perpetual 
i.  70. 

Man)  a  benevolent  as  well 
as  a  feififh  being  i,  112. 
fitted  for  fociety  i,  117. 
Conformity  of  the  nature 
of  man  to  his  external 
circumftances  i.  1 34.  i  54. 
158.  208.  279.  Man  in- 
tended to  be  more  adive 
than  contemplative!. 222. 
The  diifereni  branches  of 
his  internal  coniiitution 
finely  fuited  to  each  other 
ii.  296.  317. 

Manners) 


I      N      D 

Manners)  grofs  and  refined 
i.  65.  The  bad  tendency 
of  rough  and  blunt  man- 
ners i.  278.  Note.  Mo- 
dern manners  make  a  poor 
figure  in  an  epic  poem 
it.  244. 

M:^nufa6lures)  the  efFe£t  of 
their  productions  with  re 
fpect  to  morality  ii.  290. 
Nate. 

Marvellous)  in  epic  poetry 
ii.  250. 

Means)  the  means  or  inftru- 
ment  conceived  to  be  the 
agent  ii.  171,  i^c. 

Meafure)  natural  meafure 
of  tine  i,  100,  l^c.  of 
fpace  i.   105,   y<-. 

Meaux)  Biihop  of,  cenfured 
i.  i86. 

Medea)  of  Euripides  cen 
fured  ii.  271 . 

Melody  or  modulalion  defi 
ned  ii.  64.  dillinguifhed 
from  harmonv  ii.  66. 
Note.  In  E  'giilTi  heroic 
verfe  are  four  different 
forts  of  melody  ii.  80  95. 
Melody  of  blank  verfe 
fuperior  to  that  of  rhyme, 
and  even  to  that  of  hex- 
ameter ii.  106 

Members  of  a  period)have 
a  fine  effefl  placed  in  an 
increafing  feries  ii.  1  i    I  2 

Memory)  and  judgment  in 
perfeftion  felJom  united 
i  4.  5  Memory  and  wit 
o.^ten  united  i.  5.  greater 
with  refpeft  to  percepti- 
ons than  ideas  i.  103. 
Memory  ii.  326. 


E      X. 

Merry  waives  of  Windfor) 
its  double  plot  well  con- 
trived ii.  255.  ' 

Metaphor  ii.  171,  ^c.  In 
early  compofitions  of  na- 
tions we  find  metaphors 
much  itraineu  ii.  181. 

Metre  ii.  77. 

Mile)  the  computed  miles 
are  longer  in  a  barren 
than  in  a  popui-jus  coun- 
try i.  104. 

Milton)  his  ftyle  much  in- 
verted ii  104.  The  de- 
fedl  of  his  vcrfiilcation  is 
the  want  of  coincidence 
betwixt  thepaufes  of  the 
iftnk  and  found  ii.  107. 
The  beauty  of  Milton's 
comparifons  ii.  124.  125. 

Moderation)  in  our  defires 
contributes  the  moH  to 
happinefs  i.  128. 

Modern  manners)  make  a 
poor  figure  in  an  epic 
poem  ii.  244. 

Modific.ition)defined  ii.338- 

.Vlodulation)  defined  ii.  65. 

ViolofTus)  ii.  1 14. 

Monofyliables)  Englilh,  ar- 
bitrary as  to  quantity  ii. 
78. 

Moral  duties.      See  Duties. 

Morality)  a  right  and  a 
wiong  tafte  in  morals  ii. 
315  Aberrations  from 
Its  true  ftandard  ii.  31S. 

Moral  {Qn(Q  i.  15.  Oar  paf- 
fions  as  well  as  actions 
are  governed  by  it  i.  62. 

Moral  tragedy  ii.   237. 

Motion)  requires  the  con- 
ilane 


I      N      D 

■flant  exertion  of  an  ope- 
rating caufe  i.  65.  pro- 
dudtive  of  feelings  that 
referable  it  i.  io8.  Its 
laws  agreeable  i,  225 
Motion  and  force  ch.  5 
What  emotions  are  the 
moft  agreeable  i.  154  Re- 
gular motion  i.  155  Ac- 
celerated motion  i.  155. 
Upward  motion  i.  155. 
"Undulating  morion  i.  I  55. 
Motion  or  fluids  i.  155.' 
A  body  moved  neither  a- 
greeable  nordifagreeable 
i.  155.  The  pleafure  of 
motion  differs  from  that 
offeree  i.  155.  Grace  of 
motion  i  158.  Motions 
of  the  human  body  i.i  58. 

Motive)  defined  i.  2f.  A 
felfifli  motive  ariling  from 
a  focial  principle  i.  22. 
Note. 

Movement)  applied  figura 
lively  to  melody  ii.  57. 

Mount)  artificial  ii.  285. 

Mourning  Biide)  cenlured 
i.  299.  309.  ii.  224.  268. 

274 
Mulic)  paffions  raifed  by  in- 
ftrumental  mufichave  not 
an  objeiSt  i.  32.  Mufic 
difpofes  the  heart  to  va- 
rious paffions  ii.  270. 
refined  pleafures  of  mu- 
fic ii  26.  Vocal  ditb'n- 
guifhedfrom  inftrumental 
i.  81.  WhatfubjeQs  pro- 
per for  vocal  mufic  i  Si , 
l^c.  Sentimental  mufic  i. 
81.  Note.    Sounds  fit  to 


E      X. 

accompany  difagreeable 
paffions,  cannot  be  mull- 
cal  i.  81.  Note.  What 
variety  proper  i.  199. 
Mufic  betwixt  the  aflsof 
a  play,  the  advantages 
that  may  be  drawn  from 
it  ii.  270.  It  refines  our 
nature  i.  26. 

Mufical  inrtruments)  their 
different  effeds  upon  the 
mind  i.  141. 

Mufical  meafure)  defined  ii. 
64.  65. 

Narration)  itanimates  a  nar- 
rative to  reprefent  things 
patlas  prefent  i.  55.  Nar- 
ration and  defcription 
ch.  21.  It  animates  a 
narrative  to  make  it  dra- 
matic ii.  223.   237. 

Nation)  defined  ii.  341,  &c. 

Note)  a  high  note  and  a 
low  note  in  mufic  i.  138. 

Noun  ii.  30. 

Novelty)  foon  degenerates 
into  familiarity  i.  70. 
Novelty  and  the  une.K- 
pedled  appearance  of  ob- 
jeds  ch  6.  Novelty  a 
pleafant  emotion  i.  160, 
&c,  dirtinguiftied  from 
variety  i.  164.  its  differ- 
ent degrees  i.  164,  &c, 
fixes  the  attention  i.  190. 

Number)  defined  ii.  296. 

Numeruo)  defined  ii.  65. 

Objeft)  of  a  paffion  defined 

i.    19.    dirtinguifiied  into 

,     general  and  patticuiar  i, 

*9. 


I       N      D 

19.  An  jigreeable  objetl 
producetli  a  pleafant  e- 
inotion,  and  a  diiagre^a- 
ble  obje£l  a  painful  emo- 
tion i.  III.  Attractive 
objed  i  III.  RepuHive 
cbjeft  i.  III.  Objefls  of 
fight  tlie  moft  complex  i. 
119,  Objects  that  are 
neither  agreeable  nordif- 
agreeable  i.  1 34.  154  155 
Natural  objetts  readily 
form  themfelves  into 
groups  i.  206.  An  obie>?i 
terminating  an  opening  in 
a  wood,  appears  doubly 
diftant  ii.  282.  Objctl 
defined  ii  323.  Objects 
of  external  fenfe  in  what 
place  perceived  ii.  323. 
324.  Objefls  of  internal 
fenie  ii.  324.  All  objects 
of  fight  are  complex  ii. 
331.  339.  ObjeCls  liniple 
and  complex  ii.  340. 

Obllacles)  to  gratification 
inflame  a  pailion  i.  69. 

Oid  Bachelor)  ceiifured  ii. 
261. 

Opera)  cenfured  i.  210. 

Opinion)  influenced  by  paf- 
fion  i.  91,  if^c.  ii.  146. 
influenced  by  propenfity 
i.  99  influenced  by  affec- 

.  tioai.99.  Why  difl^ering 
trom  me  in  opinion  is  tlil- 
agreeable  ii.  31  5.  Opi- 
nion defined  ii.  ^37. 

Oration)  of  Cicero  pro  Ar- 
chia  poetazzviiMitdn  52. 

Orchard  ii.  286. 

Order  i.  5,  ^c.  125.  ii.  335. 


E      X. 

Pleafure  we  have  in  order 
i.  7.  necelTary  in  all  com- 
pofitions  i.  8.  Senfe  of 
order  has  aninfiuence  up- 
on our  pafllons  i.  41.  Or- 
der and  proportion  con- 
tribute to  grandeur  i.  1 29. 
When  a  lift  of  many  par- 
ticulars is  brought  into  a 
period,  in  what  order 
iliould  they  be  placed  .^• 
ii.  48,  l^c.  Order  in  fla- 
ring fafts  ii.  260. 

Organ  of  fenfe  i.  i.  Intr. 

Organic  pleafure  i.  1.2,  l:Sc. 
Intr. 

Orlando  Furiofo)  cenfured 
ii.  260. 

Ornament)  ought  to  be 
fuited  to  the  fubjedt  i. 
209,  l^c.  Redundant  or- 
naments ought  to  be  a- 
voided  ii.  205.  206.  Or- 
namentsdiftinguiflied  into 
what  are  merely  fuch, 
and  what  have  relation 
to  ufe  ii.  302.  Allegori- 
cal or  emblematic  orna- 
ments ii.  309. 

Oilian  excels  in  drawing 
charafters  ii.  21  5. 

Othello)  cenfured  ii.  234. 

Ovid)  cenfured  i.  201. 

Paeon  ii.  1 1  5. 

Pain)  ceflTation  of  pain  ex- 
tremely pleafant  i.  30. 
Pain,  voluntary  and  invo- 
luntary i.  64.  65.  Differ- 
ent effeds  of  pain  upon 
the  temper  i.  65.  Social 
pain  lefs  fevere  tban  fel- 
R  fifh 


I      N      D 

fifli  i.  65.  Pain  of  a  train 
of  perceptions  in  certain 
'  circumflancesi. 194.  Pain 
lelFens  hy  cuftom  i.  260. 
ii.  313.  Pain  of  want  i. 
261. 
Painful  emotions  and  pafli- 

ons  i    !;9,  iffc. 
Painting)  power  of  painting 
to   move  our  paiTions  i. 
36.  Its  power  to  engage 
our  belief  i.  57,     What 
degree  of  variety  is  requi- 
lite   i.    199.     A    pidure 
ought  to  be  fo  finiple  as 
to  be  Teen  at  one  view  i. 
200.   In  grotefque  paint- 
ing the  figures  ought  to 
be    fmall,     in    hillorical 
painting  as  great  as  the 
life  i.  138.   Grandeur  of 
manner  in  painting  i.  1 46. 
A  landfcape  admits   not 
variety    of  expreffion  i. 
187.    Painting  is  an  imi- 
tation of  nature  ii   3.   In 
hiltory.painting  the  piin- 
cipal   figure  ought  to  be 
in  the  beft  light  ii.  225. 
A  good  picture  agreeable 
tkough  the  fubjeft  be  dif- 
agreeable  ii.   230.     Ob- 
jects   that    ftriice    terror 
have  a  fine  effedt  in  paint- 
ing ii.  232.     Obje£ts  of 
horror  ought  not  to  be 
reprefented  ii.  233.   Uni- 
.   ty  of  adion  in  a  picture 
ii.  262.    What  emotions 
can  be  railed  by  painting 
ii.  276. 
Panic)  caufe  of  it  i,  109. 


E       X. 

Paradife  loft)   the  richnefs 
of    its    melody   il.    104, 
cenfured  ii.  245. 
Parallelogram)  its  beauty  i. 

124- 
Parody)  defined  i.  233. 288. 

289.   Nole. 
Particles  ii.  87.  not  capable 

of  an  accent  ii.  93. 
Paflion)  no  pleafure  of  ex- 
ternal fenfe  denominated 
a  paflion  except  of  feeing 
and  hearing  i.  i  2.  Paflion 
diftinguillied  from  emoti- 
on i.  i8,  &c.  Objects  of 
paflion    i.    19.      Paflions 
dii];ingtii(hed  into  inftinc- 
tive   and    deliberative   i. 
21.  44,  iffc.    what    are 
felfilh,  what  focial  i.  21. 
what  diflbcial  i.  23.   Paf- 
fion  communicated  to  re- 
lated objects  i.  35,  tffr. 
ii.  44.   56.  73.  93.   149. 
192.     Generated    by    a 
complex  object  i.  40.   A 
paflion  paves  the  way  to 
others   of  a  fimilar  tone 
i.  42.  A  paflion  paves  the 
way  to  others  in  the  lame 
tone  i.  42-  Paflion  T?ifed 
by  painting  i    54.    Pafli- 
ons confidered  as  pleafant 
or  painful,  agreeable  or 
diiagreeable    i.   62,  l^c 
Our  paflions  governed  by 
the  mciral  len^e  i.  62.  So- 
cial prJiions  more  pleatant 
and  lefs  painful  th.in  the 
felfifli  i.  64.    P?flions  are' 
infectious  i.  62.  are  refi- 
ned or  giofs  i.  64    Their 
interrupted 


I      N      D 

interrupted    exiftence   i. 
65.  l^c.    Their  grov^'th 
and  decay  i.  67,  l^c.  The 
identity  of  a  paflion  i.  66. 
The  bulk  of  our  pairions 
are  the  affections  of  love 
or  hatred  inflamed  into  a 
pa(lljni.69  Paffionshave 
a    tendency  to  excefs  i. 
69    Pafli'jns  fwell  by  op- 
poruion  i.  69    A  paffion 
fudden  in  growth  is  fud- 
den  in  decay  i.  70.     A 
pafTion  founded  on  an  o- 
riginal  propenfity  endures 
for  life  i.  71.  founded  on 
affection   or    averfion   is 
fubject  to  decay  1.  71.  A 
pallion    ceafes    upon  at- 
taining its  ultimate  end  i. 
70.     Coexirtent  pafllons 
i.  72,  fife.  PalFions  finvilar 
and  diffimilari.  84   Fluc- 
tuation of  paffion  i.  84, 
^c.  290.     Its  influence 
upon    our    perceptions, 
opinions,  and  belief  i.  gi . 
l^c.  loi.  107.  17S.  180. 
ii.    146.    163.  165.    171, 
If^c.     faflions  attractive 
and  repullive  i    11 1.275. 
P.one  to  their  gratifica- 
tion   i      118.        Pallions 
rat-iked  according  to  their 
di^;-i'.  y  i.  220,  y<:.  Social 
pa. Rons  of  greater  aignity 
than  felfilli  i.  224.  Exter- 
nal figns  of  paiiionsch  15. 
Our    pafitons   lliould   be 
governed  by  reafcn  i.  294 
Language  of  palfion  ch. 
I  J.    A  pallion  whenhn  • 


E      X. 

moderate  is  filent  i.  312.   ■ 
313   Language  of  paffion 
broken  and  interrupted  i. 

3 1 4.  What  paffions  admit 
of  figurative  expreffion  i. 

315.  ii.  130.  132.  Lan- 
guage proper  for  impetu- 
ous paflion  i.  316.  for 
melancholy  i.  316.  for 
calm  emotions  i.  316.  for 
turbulent  paflion  i  316. 
In  certain  pafllons  the 
mind  is  prone  to  beftow 
fcnfibility  upon  things  in- 
animate ii,  130.  146. 
With  regard  to  paflion 
man  is  paffive  ii  324.  We 
are  conlcious  ot  paffions 
as  in  the  heart  ii.  324. 

Paffionate)  perfonificauon 
ii.  I  51 

Paffive  fubjeft)  defined  ii. 
342. 

Pathetic  tragedy  ii.  227. 

Paufe)  pau(es  neceffary  for 
three  different  purpofes 
ii.  67.  Muflcal  paufes  in 
an  hexameter  line  ii.  71. 
Mufical  paufes  ought  to 
coincide  with  thofe  in  the 
fenfe  ii  73.  74.  What 
niufica!  paufes  are  effen- 
tial  inEngliili  heroic  verfe 
ii.  80.  Rules  concerning 
them  ii,  81.  Paufe  that 
concludes  acoupletii.  8?. 
Paufe  and  accent  have  a 
mutual  influence  ii.  98. 

Pedeflai)  ought  to  be  fpa- 
ringly  ornamented  ii  303, 

Perceptions)  more  eafiiy  re- 

meaabered  than  ideas  i. 

R  ,2  ,  J  03- 


INDEX. 


1 03.  Succelfion  of  per- 
ceptions i.  I.  1S9.  Un- 
connected perceptions 
find  not  eafy  admittance 
to  the  mind  i.  190.  194. 
Pleafure  and  pain  of  per- 
ceptions in  a  train  i.  104, 
tffc.  Perception  defined 
ii.  324.  Original  and  fe- 
condary  ii.  326,  ^c.  Sim- 
ple and  complex  ii.  330. 

Period)  has  a  fine  etfett 
when  its  members  pro- 
ceed in  the  form  of  an 
increafing  feries  ii.  11.  In 
the  periods  of  a  difcourfe 
variety  ought  to  be  ftu- 
died  ii.  12.  Different 
thoughts  ought  not  to  be 
crowded  into  one  period 
ii,  21.  The  fcene  ought 
not  to  be  changed  in  a 
period  ii.  26.  A  period 
fo  arranged  as  to  exprefs 
the  fenfe  clearly,  feems 
'more  mufical  than  where 
the  fenfe  is  left  doubtful 

.  ii.  41.  In  what  part  of 
the  period  doth  a  word 
make  the  greatell  figure 
ii.  47.  A  period  ought  to 
be  clofed  with  that  word 
which  makes  the  greated 
fio-ure  ii  48.  When  there 
is  occafion  to  mention 
many  particulars, in  what 
order  ought  they  to  be 
placed  ii.  48,  Iffc.  A  ftiort 
period  is  lively  and  fami- 
liar, a  long  period  grave 
and  folemn  ii.  52.  A  dif- 
courfe ought  not  to  com- 


mence with  a  lo.ng  period 

if.  52. 
Perfonification  ii.  i/^^,  l^c. 

i'airionate  and  dcfcriptive 

ii.  151. 
Pe'fpicuity)  a  capital  requi- 

fite  in  writing  ii.  14    Per- 

fpicuiry  in    arrangement 

Phancahn  ii.  327     Note, 

Pharfalia)  cenfuied  ii.  237. 

Phedra)  of  Racine  cenfured 
i.  265.  319. 

Pl6tureJ     \iee  paintlnsj. 

Pilafter)  lefs  beautiful  than 
a  column  ii.  305. 

Pindar)  defective  in  order 
and  connection  i.  8. 

Piry)  defined  i.  18.  apt  to 
produce  love  i.  42.  al- 
ways painful,  yet  alv/ays 
agreeable  i.  63.  refembles 
its  caufe  i.  109.  What 
are  the  proper  fubjedls 
for  raifing  pity  ii.    240, 

Plain)  a  large  plain,  a  beau- 
tiful obje(El  i.  107. 

Planetary  fyilem)  its  beauty 
i.   154. 

Plautus)  the  liberty  he  takes 
as   to  place  and  time  ii. 

2  73- 

Play)  is  a  chain  of  connedl- 
ed  h(iX?.,  each  fcene  mak- 
ing a  link  ii.  261. 

Piny  of  words)  i  244.  326, 
t^c.  gone  into  dil'repute 
i.  244.  Compatifons  that 
relolve  into  a  play  of 
words  ii.    140,  iffc. 

Pleafant  emotions  and  paf- 
nons 


I      N      D 

fions  i.  59,  l£c.  Social 
paffions  more  pleafant 
than  thefelfifhi  64.  Plea 
fant  pain  explained  i.  73. 

74- 
Pleafure)  pleafures  of  feeing 
and  hearing  diftinguillied 
from  thofe  of  the  other 
fenfes  i.  i,  l^t.  Intr. 
plea-fure  of  order  i.  7.  of 
connexion  i  7.  Pleafures 
ot  tafte,  touch,  and  fmell, 
not  termed  emotions  or 
pajjtuns  i.  12.  Pleafure  of 
a  reverie!,  52.  195.  Plea- 
fures lefined  and  grofs  i. 
64.  Pleafure  of  a  train  of 
perceptions  in  certain  cir- 
cumtlaaces  i.  194,  i^c. 
Corporeal  pleafure  low, 
and  fometimes  mean  i. 
221.  Pleafures  of  the  eye 
and  e.ir  never  low  or 
meal  i,  22"i.  Pieafmes 
of  the  underftanding  are 
high  in  point  of  dignity 
i.  122.  Cullom  augments 
moderate  pleafures,  but 
diminiihes  thofe  that  are 
intenfe  i.  260.  Some 
pleafures  felt  internally, 
ioine  externally  ii.  333- 

Poet)  the  chief  talent  of  a 
peet  who  deals  in  the  pa- 
thetic i.  267. 

Poetical  flights)  in  what 
ftate  of  mind  they  are 
mort  relilhcd  ii.  <  30  131. 

Poetry)  giaiid'^ur  ot  •natiMcr 
in  poetry  i.  1 42  IfSc.Vio'x 
far  variety  is  pioper  i. 
SQp.    Objei5t3  that  urike 


E     x; 

terror  have  a  fine  effcft  ■ 
in  it  ii.  199,  ^f.  ObjcQs 
of  horror   ought   to   be 
baniflied  from  it  ii.  233.  . 
Poetry  has    power  over  ■ 
all  the  human  aiFedtions 
ii,  233.     The  mod  fuc- 
cefsful  in  dcfcribing  ob- 
jefts  of  fight  ii.  331. 

Polite  behaviour  i.  65. 

Polygon)  regular,  its  beau- 
ty i.  124. 

Poly fy  11a bles)  how  far  a- 
greeable  to  the  ear  ii.  7. 
feldom  have  place  in  the 
conftrudb'on  of  Englifh 
verfe  ii.  79.  95. 

Pompey)  of  Corneille  cen- 
fured  i.  297.  305.  307. 
30S. 

Poor)  fcabit  puts  them  on  a 
level  with  the  rich  i.  262. 

Pope)  excels  in  the  variety 
of  his  melody  ii.  9.  cen- 
fured  ii.  161.  163  220. 
His  ftyle  compared  with 
that  of  Swift  ii.  223. 

Pofture)  conftrained  pofbure 
diftgreeable  to  the  fpec- 
tator  i.  109 

Power  of  abll:fa£lion"ii.34o. 
Its  ufe  ii.  340.  341. 

Prepofitions)   explained   ii. 

Pride)  how  generated  i.  68. 
why  it  is  perpetual  i.  71. 
i.ncites  us  to  ridicule  the 
blunders  and  abfurdities 
of  others  i.  215.  a  plea- 
fant paifion  i.  215.  274, 
confiJered  mih.  refpedl  to 
uignity  and  ineaanefs  i. 

R   3  2Z2^:. 


I      N      D 

222.  Its  external  expref- 
fions  or  figns  difagreea- 
ble  i.  274. 

Primary  and  fecondary  qua- 
lities of  matter  i.  126. 
Primary  and  fecondary 
relations  i.  209.  Note. 

Principle)  of  order  i.  5.  of 
morality  i.  1 5.  32.  216. 
^c.  of  felf-prefervation 
i.  44.  of  felfifhnefs  i.  i  fz. 
of  benevolence  i-  112, 
l^c.  of  punifiimenti.  1 14 
2,1 7.  Principle  that  makes 
us  fond  of  efteem  i.  117. 
142.  of  curiofity  i.  159 
171.  of  habit  i.  260.  261 . 
Principle  that  makes  us 
wifh  others  to  be  of  our 
opinion ii  314.316.  Prin- 
ciple defined  ii.  336. 
fpmetimes  fo  enlivened 
as  to  become  an  emotion 
i.  ^■^.     See  Propenfity. 

Principles  of  the  fine  arts 
i.  4.  Intr. 

Proceleufmaticus  ii;  115. 

Prodigies)  find  ready  credit 
with  the  vulgar  i.  99. 

Prologue  of  the  antiejit  tra- 
gedy ii   264. 

Pronoun)  defined  ii.  43.- 

Pronunciation)  rules  for  it 
ii.  55.62,  &c.  diftinguifh- 
ed  from  finging  ii.  61. 
Singing  and  pronouncing 
compared  ii.  63. 

Propenfity)  fometinies  fo 
enlivened  as  to  become 
an  eniotion  i.  33.  68.  op- 
pofed  to  affedtion  i.  71, 
Opinion  and  belief  in^u- 


E       X. 

enced  by  it  i.  99.  Prc« 
penlity  to  juftify  our  paf- 
fions  and  actions  i.  92. 
Propenfity  to  punifli  guilt 
and  reward  virtue  i.  i  14, 
&c.  Propenfity  to  carry 
along  the  good  or  bad 
properties  of  one  fubjeiSt 
to  another  i.  34.  106. 
J07.  121.  ii.  4.  41.  44. 

55  73-  93-  i-^-  192- 
Propenfity  to  complete 
evesy  woik  that  is  begun 
and  to  carry  things  to 
perfedioii  i.  i8j.  ii.  305. 
Propenfity  to  connnuni- 
cate  to  others  every  thing 
that  atFeds  us  i.  312, 
Propenfity  to  place  toge- 
ther things  n)atuaily  con- 
nected ii.  41.  I'ropenfity 
defined  ii.  3  j6.  See  Prin- 
ciple. 
Properties)  transferred  from 
one  lubjeA  to  another  i, 
34.    106.  121.   ii   4.  41. 

44- 55-  73- 93-  172- 192- 
Property)  the  affeftion  man  . 
bears  to  his  property  i.  . 
38.  A  fecondary  relation 
i.   209..  Note.4 
Prophecy)    thofe   who  be- 
lieve in  prophecies  wilh 
the    accomplifli<nent     u 
1 1 8. 
Propriety)  ch.  10.  a  fecon- 
dary relation  i.  209.  Note.- 
diilinguilhed    from    con- 
gruity  i.  2 10 -dirtinguifh- 
ed  from  proportion  i.  215. . 
Propriety  in  buildings  ii. 
299.  300. 

Piopor-- 


Proportion)  contributes  to 
grandeur  i.  129,  &c.  di- 
llinguiflied  from  proprie- 
ty i.  21  5  As  to  qiinntity 
coincides  wirli  con^ruity 
i  215.  exMiiincd  as  ap- 
plied to  archicectuie  ii. 
294,  &c.  Proportion  de 
lined  ii.  335. 
Pfofe)    dirtingiiiflied     from 

verfe  ii.  64,  &c. 
Profped)  an  unbounded 
profpect  diPagieeable  i. 
181.  Note.  By  what 
means  a  profpect  may  be 
improved  ii.  282.  283. 
Provoked  Hufbind)  cenfu- 

red  ii.  255 
Pun)  defined  i.  247. 
Punilliment)    in    the    place 
where   ,the     crime    vyas 
committed    i.    1S4,    &-c. 
Punilhment  of  inrpropii- 
ety  i.  213,  C5fr.  21  7: 
Public  games)of  the  Greeks 

'••.56.      .. 
Pyrrhichius  ii.  1 14. 

Qj^iaiities)  primary  and  fe- 
condary  i.  126  A  Quali- 
ty cannot  be  conceived 
independent  of  the  lub- 
ject  to  which  it  belongs 
ii.  34.  Differeiit  qualities 
perceived  by  different 
i'enfes  ii.  323.  324.  com 
municated  to  related  ob- 
jects.    See  Propenlity. 

Quantity)  with  refpect  to 
melody  ii.  68.  Quantity 
with  refpecc  to  Englilli 
verfe  ii.  78.  Falfe  quan- 
tity ii.  79. 


INDEX. 

Quintilian)  cenfnred  ii.  167. 
Quintus  Curtius)  cenfured 
i.  292. 


Racine)    critlcifed    i.   319, 

Cenfuied  i.  323 
Rape  of  the  Lock)  charac. 
tevifed  i.  228      \ii  verfe 
admirable  ii  68 
Reading)  chief  talent  of  a 
fine  reader  i.  267.   Plain- 
tive   pallions    require    a 
flow  pionurciation  i.288. 
Note.    Rules  for  reading 
ii.    61,    l^c.     con)pated 
with  finging  ii.  65. 
Reality  of  external  objects 

i.  4-8.  49. 
Reafoii)   reafons   to  juflify 
a    favourite  opinion  are 
always  at  hand.andniuch 
relifhed  i.  92. 
Recitative  ii.  65. 
Refined  pleafure  i    6^. 
Regularity)  not  fo  elfential 
in    great    objects    as    in 
fmall    i.    131.    not    in  a 
fmall  work  fo  much  as  in 
one   that    is  exfenfive  i. 
131.  How  far  to  be  ftu  - 
died    in   architecture  ii. 
278.  291.  294.   How  far 
to  be  ttudied  in  a  garden 
ii.  280,   Regular  line  de- 
fined ii.  -^ii-  Regular  fi- 
gure defined  ii.  333.  Re- 
gularity proper  and  figu- 
rative ii.  334. 
Relations  i.  2.  have  an  in- 
fluence in  generating  e- 
motions    and    paffions  i. 
34,  [^c.     Are  the  foun- 
daucn,. 


I       N      D 

diit'nn  of  congruiry  and 
p-opriety  i  207  Primary 
p.'m\  '".'■condTry  relations  i. 
2.08  iVt.'e  In  what  man- 
nerare  relntionsexprcffed 
in  words  ii.  30,  &'c.  The 
effect  that  even  the  flight- 
er  reiniioiis  have  on  the 
mind  ii.  2S6. 

Relative  Leauty  i  izo.  ii. 
286. 

Remorfe)  anguifli  of  re- 
nioife  i  109,  Cffc.  its 
graiificatiori  i.  114.  i3  not 
mean  i.  222. 

Repartee  i.  249. 

Reprefentation)  its  perfec- 
tion lies  in  hiding  i;feU 
and  producing  an  irspref- 
fion  of  reality  ii.  267.268. 

Repulfive)  object  i.  iii, 
Repuifive  paffions  i.  275. 

Refemblance)  and  diffimili- 
tude  ch  8.  Refemblance 
in  a  feries  of  objects  ii. 
10.  The  members  of  a 
fentence  fignifying  a  re- 
femblance betv/ixt  ob- 
jects ought  to  refemble 
each  other  ii.  23,  i^c. 
Refen^blance  betwixt 
found  and  fignification  ii. 
54.  55.  56.  No  refem- 
blance betwixt  objeds  of 
different  fenfesii.  56.  Re- 
fembiingcaufes  may  pro- 
duce effeQs  that  have  no 
refemblance,  and  caufes 
that  have  no  refemblance 
may  produce  refembling 
elieds  ii.  56,  &c.  The 
fa,if)teli  leiembiance.  be- 


E       X. 

tv;ixt  found  and  fignifica- 
tion give  thegreateftplea- 
fure  ii  6o>  &c.  Refem- 
blance cariied  too  far  in 
foir.e  gardens  ii.  280. 
A'o/e. 

Reicntment)  explained  i  45^ 
SiC.  Dilagreeable  in  ex- 
cefs  i.  6^.  Extended  a- 
gainll:  relations  of  (lie 
offender  i.  915.  Its  grati- 
fication i.  113.  114. 
When  immoderate  is  fi- 
lent  i.  313. 

Refi)  neither  agreeable  nor 
dilagreeable  i.  154. 

Revenge)  animates  but  doth 
not  elevate  the  mind  i. 
141.     Has  no  dignity  in 

.  it  i  221.  When  immo- 
derate is  filent  i.  313. 

Reverie)  caufe  of  the  plea- 
fure  we  have  in  it  i.  52. 
195. 

Rhyme)  for  what  fubjedts 
it  is  proper  ii.  108,  &c. 
Melody  of  rhyme  ii,  1 09. 

Rhythraus)  defined  ii.  615. 

Rich  and  poor  put  upon  a 
level  by  habit  i.  262. 

Riches)  love  of,  corrupts 
the  lafte  ii.  320. 

Riddle  ii.  284. 

Ridicule)  a  grofs  pleafure 
i.  65.  Is  lofmg  ground  iff 
England  i.  65.  Emotion 
of  ri<!icule  i.  169.  Not 
concordant  v^ith  gran- 
deur i,  188.  Ridicule  1. 
214.  ch.  12.  Whether  it 
be  a  teft  of  truth  i.  235. 
Ridiculous) 


INDEX, 


Ridiculous)  diflinguifhed 
from  rifible  i.  i6'.) 

Righc  and  wrong  as  to  ac- 
lions  i.  I  <;. 

Rifible  obje^its  ch.  7.    Rifi 
hie  dillinguilLed  from  ri- 
diculous i.  169. 

Room)  its  form  ii.  293. 

Rubens)  cenfured  ii.  187. 

Ruin)  ought  not  to  be  feen 
from  a  flower-pafterre  ii. 
279.  In  what  form  it 
ought  to  be  ii.  279. 

Salluft)  cenfured  for  v/ant 

of  connection  i.  g,  &c. 
S.ipphic   veife)   has  a   very 
agreeable  modulation  ii. 
66. 
Savage)  knows  little  of  fe- 
cial alFection  i    66. 
Scorn  i.  214.  227. 
Sculpture)   imitates  nature 
ii.  3.  What  emotions  can 
be  railed  by  it  ii.  276. 
Secchia  Rapitu)  characteri- 

fed  i.  227. 
Secondary  qualities  of  mar. 
ter  i.  126    '27.     S;con 
dary     relations    i.     209 
Note. 
Seeing)  in  feeing  ve  feel  no 
impieilion  ii.  325.     Ob- 
jects of  liglit   are  all  of 
them  complex  ii.  331 . 
Self-deceit  i.  92   305. 
S-lfilh    pailions    i.    21.    2  2 
Are   pleafant   i.   62.   6^. 
Lefs  refined  and  It fs  p!ea- 
fant  than  the  focid  i.  64. 
Toe  pain  of  feitilh  palh  • 
ons  more  ievcrc  than  of 


focial  paffions  i.  65.   In- 
ferior  in  dignity  to  the 
focial  i.    224      A  felfifh 
emotion    ariling    from   a 
focial  principle  i.  22.    A 
felfifh  motive  arifmg  from 
a  focial    principle  i.  22. 
Nate. 
Selfi/hnefs)      promoted     by 
luxury  ii.   320.  and  alfo 
by  love  of  riches  ii.  320. 
Self-love)  its  prevalence  ac- 
coimted  for  i   24.  In  ex- 
cefs    difagreeable  i.  63. 
Not  inconiiltent  with  be- 
nevolence i    1 12. 
oemipaufe)  in  an  hexameter 
line  ii.  72       Vv'hat  femi-- 
paufes   are  found    in  an 
Englilh  heroic  line  ii.  81. 
■Senfatlop)  c^ehned  ii.  3215. 
Senfe)  of  order    i,    5,  &c. 
contributes    to    generate 
en)Otions  i.  37.  Note,  and 
paffions  i.  41.     Senfe  of 
right    and  wrong  i.   15. 
Tlie  veracity  of  our  (tn.- 
fes  i.  4S.  ii.   327.  Note, 
Senfe    of    congruity    or 
piopriety  i,  206.  of  the 
dignity  of  human  nature 
i.  218  219  ii  316.  Senfe 
of  ridicule  i,  235.   Senfe 
by  which   we  difcover  a 
paluon  from  its  external 
iigns  i    276.     Senfe  of  a 
common  nature  in  every 
fpecies   of  beings  i.   61. 
ii.    314.      Senfe    internal 
and  external  ii.  323.    In 
touching,     talliivg,     and 
linelii.g,  we  fee!  the  im- 
pieffioa. 


I      N      D 

prefllon  at  the  orgnn  of 
fenfe,  not  in  feeing  and 

...  o 

hearing  I.  i    hiir.  li.  325. 
Sentence)  it  detrafls    from 
r.eatnefs  to  vary  the  fcene 
in   the  fame  fentence  ii. 
26      A  fentence    fo   ar- 
ranged as  to  exprefs  the 
fenie    clearly,  feems  al- 
ways more  mufical  than 
where  the  fenfe  is  left  in 
any  degree  doubtful  ii. 
41. 
Senriment)  elevated,  low  i. 
137     Sentiments  ch.  16. 
ought  to  be  fui'ed  to  the 
paffion  i.  283.  Sentiments 
expreffing  the  fwelling  of 
paffion  i,  290.  expreffing 
the    different    ftages    of 
paffion  i.   291.    olctated 
by  coexiftent  paffions  i. 
293.  Sentiments  of  tT:rong 
paffions  are  hid  or  difTem 
bled  i.  295.     Sentiments 
above    the    tone  of    the 
paffion  i.  295.  below  the 
tone  of  the  paffion  i.  297. 
Sentiments  too  gay  for  a 
ferious  paffion  i.  29S.  too 
artificial  for  a  ferious  paf- 
fion   i,   299.    fanciful  or 
finical  i.  301.  difcordant 
with    character    i     30^. 
mi  (placed  i  304,  Immo 
ral    fentiments   expreffed 
v/ithout  difguife  i.  305. 
unnatural  i.  308.    Senti 
ments    both  in  dramatic 
and    epic     cornpofitions 
ought  to  be   fubfervient 
to  the  action  ii.  245,  &c. 
ScntiiDcnt  defined  ii.  337. 


E       X. 

Sentimental    mufic    i.    8i. 

Nole. 

Seiies)  from  fraall  to  great 
agreeable  i.  131;.  Afcend- 
ing  feries  i  136.  Def- 
cending  feries  i.  136  The 
etTecl  of  a  number  of  ob- 
je£ls  placed  in  an  increa- 
fing  or  decreafing  feaea 
ii.  10. 

Serpentine  river)  its  bcautj 
i.  15^.   ii.  288. 

Sertorius)  of  Corneiile  cen_ 
fured  i.  290. 

Shaft)  of  a  column  ii.  306. 

Shakefpear)  hi?  fentiments 
juft  reprefentations  of  na- 
ture i.  287.  is  fupeiior 
to  all  other  writers  in  de- 
lineating paffions  and  fen- 
timents i.  317-  excels  in 
the  knowledge  of  human 
nature  i.  318.  Note,  deals 
little  in  inverfion  ii.  104. 
excels  in  drawing  cha- 
latters  ii.  213  214.  his 
ftyle  in  what  refpedl  ex- 
cellent ii.  224.  his  dia- 
logue finely  conduced  ii, 
257.  deals  not  in  barren 
fcenes  ii.  262. 

Shame)   arifing  from  affec- 
tion or  averlion  i.  69,  is 
not  mean  i.  222. 
Sight)  irfluenced  by  paffion 

i.  ig6.  107.  177,  l^c. 
Similar  emotions  i.  73.  their 
effrds  when  coexittent  i. 
74.  ii.  298.  Similar  paffi- 
ons i.  84.  85.  Etfefts  of 
coexiflent  fimiiar  paflions 

i.  84. 

Simple 


I      N      D 

Simple  perception  ii.  330. 
Simplicity)  tafte  for  fimpli 
city  has  produced  many 
Utopian  fyftfms  of  hu 
man  nature  i.  13     Beauty 
of  fimplicity  i    122.    A- 
bandoned  in  the  fine  arts 
i.  126    a  great  beauty  in 
tragedy  ii   254   ought  to 
be  the  governing  taile  in 
gardening   and   archiret.- 
ture  ii.  277. 

Singing)  diftinguifhed  from 
pronouncing  or  readingii. 
61  Singing  and  pionoun- 
ci.ig  conpared  ii.  63. 

Situation)  different  fuuui- 
ons  fuited  to  ditferent 
biiiidings  Ii.  7,00 

Sky)  the  relilh',,t  it  loft  by 
familiariry  i    63. 

Smelling)  in  fm-.'iUng  we 
feel  Ail  imprelHon  un^n 
the  organ  of  fenfe  ii   325. 

Smoke)  the  pleafure  of  al- 
cending  fmok  .■  accounted 
for  I    7.  I  56. 

Social  palfions  i.  21.  more 
refined  and  more  plealan' 


E      X. 

Sound')  power  of  founds  to 
raite  e. notions  i.  25  con- 
cordant i.  72.  difcordant 
i.  72  dii'agreeable  founds 
i.  81.  fit  for  accomparsv- 
ing  certain  paffions  i,  81. 
Sounds  produce  eaio'ions 
that  re'emble  them  i.  1 08. 
articulate  how  far  agree- 
able ta  the  ear  ii.  6.  A 
fmooth  found  foofhs  the 
mind,  and  a  rougii  found 
animates  ii.  8.  9.  A  con- 
tinued found  t<"nds  to  lay 
us  ifl-eep,  an  interrupted 
fornd  rouf'S  and  an  I. 
mvites  ii.  28. 

Spice)  natural  computatioa 
(if  fpace  i,   (05,  &c. 

Specie-)  defineJ  ii    339. 

Specific  habii)  lehned  1.  257. 

Speech)  power  of  Ipeech  to 
raile  emotions,  v/hence 
deiived  i    152.  t;6 

Spondee)  ii    69,  &C.  1 14. 

Squae)  its  beauty  i.  124. 
201 

ST.!ir<!)  their    proportion  ii. 
292. 
than  the  felfiih  i.  64..  The  jSfa  idard  of  talle    ch     25. 


pim    of    focal    pnflions 
more  mild  thin  of  fe  fiih 
paffions  i.  65.  S  )cial  oa 
fions  are  of  greater  dig 
nity  i.  224. 

Society)  advantages  of  i 
117.  1 18. 

Soliloquy)  has  a  foundation 
in  nature  i.  269  Solilo 
quies  i.  321,  &c. 

Sophocles)  generally  correct 
in  the  dramatic  rules  ii. 
272. 


Srindard    of     u orals 

^  3'5-  3'8.  319. 

Sta  )  in  gaideniig  ii   281, 

Staiue)   the    realon  why  a 

fta'ue   is  nor  coloured  i. 

185     The  iimbi  of  a  fta- 

tue  ought  to  be  contra.1- 

ed  i.  20D    An  eque  tri;  n 

ftatue    IS    placed     ii     a 

centre  of  ftreers  that   ic 

may  be  fcen  f  run  many 

places  at  once  it.  225. 

Statues 


I      N      D 

Statues  for  adorning  a 
building  where  to  be  pla- 
ced ii.  303.  Statue  of  an 
animal  pouring  out  water 
ii.  283.  of  a  water-god 
•pouring  water  out  of  his 
urn  ii.  3  10.  Statues  of 
animals  employ'd  as  fiip- 
ports  condemned  li  310 
311.  Naked  ftatues  con- 
demned ii.  299    Note. 

Steeple)  ought  to  be  pjra 
niidal  ).  200 

Strada)  cenfuied  ii.  206. 

i)T)'le)  natural  and  inverted 
■  ii.  32,  &c.  The  beauties 
of  a  tiatural  rtvie  ii  53. 
of  an  inverted  ftyle  ii. 
54.  Concile  ftyle  a  great 
ornament  ii.  227. 

S'jbjedt)  may  be  conceived  j 
independent  of  any  par-  j 
ticular  quality  ii  33-34..' 
Subject  with  refpect  to 
its  qualities  ii.  323.  342.  ! 
Subject  defined  ii.  342. 

Sublimity  ch.  4.  Sublime  in 
poetry  i.  137.  General 
terms  ought  to  be  avoid- 
ed where  fublimity  is  in- 
tended i.  146.  Sublimity 
may  be  employ'd  indi- 
redly  to  fink  the  mind  i 
148    Falfe  fublime  i  149 

Submilfion)  natural  foun- 
dation of  rubmilfion  to 
government  i.  116,  Cj'f. 

Subftflnce)  defined  ii.  323. 

Subftratuiii)  defired  ii.  323. 

Succeilion)  of  perceptjons 
and  ideas  i.  i,  &c.  189, 
5-&C.  Ill  a  quick  lucceiTion 


^ 


E       X. 

of  the  moil  beautiful  ob- 
je61s,  we  are  fcarce  fen- 
fible  of  any  emotion  i. 
52.  Succcffion  of  fylLi- 
bles  in  a  word  ii.  7.  of 
objects  ii  lo. 
Superlatives)  inferior  wri- 
ters dv^al   in  fuperlatives 

ii.    222. 

Surprife)  the  efTence  of  wit 
i.  5.  2^6  inllantaneous 
1.  67.  68.  160  decays 
fuddenly  i,  68  160  plea- 
fant  or  painful  according 
to  circumftances  i.  161, 
&c.  Surprife  the  caufe 
of  contraft  i  178.  has 
an  influence  upon  our  o- 
pinions,  and  even  upon 
our  eye-fight  i.  180.  Sur- 
prife afilent  palTion  131  ^. 
ftudied  in  Chinefe  gar- 
dens ii.  2S9. 

Sufpenfe)  an  uneafy  ftate 
i,  102. 

Sweet  diftrefs)  explained  i. 

Swift)  his  language  always 
fuited  to  his  fubject  ii. 
222.  has  a  peculiar  ener- 
gy of  ftyle  ii.  223.  com- 
pared with  Pope  ii  22^. 

Syllable  ii.  6.  Syllables 
confidered  as  eompofing 
wordsii.  7.  Syllables  long 
and  fliort  ii.  7.  68.  Ma- 
ny fyllables  in  Englifh  are 
aibiiraty  ii.  78. 

Sympathy)   lympatlietic  e- 

motion  of  virtue  i.  31, 

&c.    The  pain  of  fym- 

palhy  is  voluntary  i.  64. 

65. 


I      N      D 

65.  Ti  improves  the  tem- 
per f.  65.     Sympathy  i. 
113.    attractive   i.    113 
280  never  low  nor  mean 
i.  221.  the  cement  of  fo 
ciety  i.  221. 
Synthetic)  and  analytic  me- 
thods of  reafoning  com- 
pared i.  6. 

Tacitus)  excels  in  draw^ing 
characters  ii  213.  his 
ftylc  comprehenfive  ii. 
227. 

TafTo)  cenfured  ii.  213. 

Tafte)  in  tailing  we  leel  an 
impreflion  upon  the  or- 
gan of  fenfe  i.  1 .  Intr  ii. 
324.  Tafte  in  the  fine 
arts  though  natural  re- 
quires culture  i.  4.  Intr. 
ii,  321.  Note.  Tafte  in 
the  fine  arts  compareci 
with  the  moral  fenfe  i.  4. 
its  advantages  i.  6,  ^c. 
Delicacy  of  tafte  i.  64.  a 
low  tafte  i.  136.  Tafte 
in  fome  meafure  influen- 
ced by  refledion  ii.  306. 
Note.  The  foundation  of 
a  right  and  wrong  in  tafte 
ii.  3 1  5.  Tafte  in  the  fine 
arts  as  well  as  in  morals 
corrupted  by  voluptuouf- 
nefs  ii.  320.  corrupted 
by  love  of  riches  ii.  320. 
Tafte  never  naturally  bad 
or  wrong  ii  322.  Aber- 
rations  from  a  true  tafte 
in  the  fine  arts  ii,  318. 

Tautology)  a  blemifh  in 
writing  ii.  228. 


E       X. 

Telemachus)  an  «plc  poem 
ii.  236-  Note.  Cenfured 
ii.  252.  Note. 

Temples)  of  antient  and 
modern  virtue  in  the  gar- 
dens of  Stow  ii.  310. 

Terence)  cenfured  i.  323. 
ii.  272.  273. 

Terror)  arifes  fometimes  to 
its  utmoft  height  inftan- 
taneoufly  i.  67,  Sec.  a  fi- 
lent  paffion  i.  313.  Ob- 
jects that  ftrike  terror 
have  a  fine  efFedt  in  poe- 
try and  painting  ii.  232. 
The  terror  raifed  by  tra- 
gedy explained  ii.  241. 

Theorem)  general  theorems 
agreeable  i.  125. 

Time)  paft  time  expreffed 
as  prefent  i.  55,  &c  Na- 
tural compulation  of  time 
i.  100,  ^c. 

Titus  Livius.      Set  hivy. 

Tone)  of  mind  ii.  324. 

Touch)  in  touching  we  feel 
an  impreflion  upon  the 
organ  of  fenfe  ii.  325. 

Trachiniens)  of  Sophocles 
cenfured  ii   271. 

Tragedy)  the  deepeft  tra- 
gedies are  the  moilcrov/d- 
ed  i.  280.  Note.  The 
later  Engliih  tragedies 
cenfured  i.  285  French 
tragedy  cenlured  i.  287. 
Note,  307.  The  Greek 
tragedy  accompanied 
with  nmfical  notes  to  af- 
certain  the  pronunciation 
ii.  62.  Tragedy. cb.  2\2. 
in  what  leipeQ  it  differs 
S  from 


N      D      E      X. 


from  an  epic  poem  it. 
'.  235,  ^r,  diftinguiflied 
into  pathetic  and  moral 
ii.  237,  its  good  effects 
ii.  238.  compared  with 
the  epic  as  to  the  fubjects 
proper  for  each  ii.  239. 
how  far  it  may  borrow 
from  hiftory  ii.  244.  rule 
for  dividing  it  into  acts 
ii.  245.  double  plot  in  it 
ii.253.  admits  not  vielent 
action  or  fupernatural  e- 
ventsii.  255   its  origin  ii. 

263,  ^c.  Antient  trage- 
dy a  continued  reprefen 
tation  without  interrup 
lion  ii.264  Conftitution 
of  the  modern  drama  ii. 

264,  &c. 
Tragi-comedy  ii.  255. 
Trees)  the  beft  manner  of 

placing  them  ii  281.282. 
Triangle)    equilateral,    its 

beauty  i.  124. 
Tribrachys  ii.  1 14. 
Trochseus  ii.  114. 
gropes  ch.  20. 

Uglinefs)  proper  and  6gu- 
rative  ii.  333. 

"Unbounded  profpeft)  difa- 
greeable  i.  181.    'Sate. 

Uniformity  of  the  operati- 
ons  of  nature  i.  202,  &c. 
Uniformity  apt  to  diiguft 
by  exceis  i.  125.  Uni- 
formity and  variety  ch. 
g.  confpicuous  in  the 
works  of  nature  i.  205. 
The  melody  of  the  verfe 
ought  to  be  uniform 
where  the  things  defcri- 


bed  are  uniform  ii.  9?. 
Uniformity    defined    ii. 

Unity^  the  three  unities  ch. 
23.  of  adtion  ii.  259,  &c. 
Unity  of  action  in  a  pic- 
ture ii.  262.  of  time  and 
of  place  ii.  262,  &c.  U- 
nities  of  time  and  of  place 
not  required  in  an  epic 
poem  ii.  262.  Siritlly  ob- 
ferved  in  the  Greek  tra« 
gedy  ii.  264  Unity  of 
place  in  the  antientdrania 
ii.  271.  Unities  of  place 
and  time  ought  to  be 
ftri(5tly  obferved  in  each 
aft  of  a  modern  play  ii. 
273.  Wherein  the  unity 
of  a  garden  conlifts  ii. 
279.  280. 

Unumquodque  eodem  modi), 
dijfal'uitur  quo  colligatum 
ejiu  183. 

Vanity)  a  dilagreeable  paP- 
fion  i.  6^  always  appears 
mean  i.  222. 

Variety)  diftinguifhed  from 
novelty  i.  164.  Variety 
ch  9.  Variety  in  pictures 
i.  199.  confpicuous  ia 
the  works  of  nature  i. 
205.  206.  in  gardening 
ii.  288. 

Veracity  of  our  fenfes  i.  48. 

Verb)  adivc  and  paflive  ii. 

so- 
Verbal  antithefis)  defined  1. 

245.  ii.  20. 
Verfailles)   gardens   of  ii. 
284. 

Vcrfe) 


I       N       I> 

Verfe)    diftinguirhed    from 
profeii.64.  S'apphi<7'verfa 
extremely   melodi^^us    ii. 
66     Iambic  lefs  f6  ii.  66. 
Stru6ture  of  an,  hexame- 
ter line  ii.  6g.    Strudure 
ol"  Eng)ifii  heroic  verfe  ii. 
70.    Note.    77,   i^c.  65 
English  moncryllables  ar- 
bitraly  as  to  quantity  ii 
y'S.     Englifli  heroic  lines 
di(l:ingui?hed     into    four 
lorts  ii.  80  95.  they  have 
a  due  mixture  of  unifor- 
mity and  variety  ii.  102. 
Englifh  rhyme  compared 
with  blank  verfe  ii    102. 
Rules  for  compoling  each 
ii.  103.  Latin  h:xameter 
compared    with    Englifh 
rhvme  ii    106.  compared 
with  blank  verfe  ii.  106. 
French  heroic  verfe  com 
pared  vi^ith  hexameter  and 
rhyme  ii.  106     The  En- 
glirti  language  incapable 
of  the  melody  of  hexa- 
meter verie  ii.  107.  io8 
Fo*    what     fubjeds    is 
rhyme  proper  ii.  1 10,^^. 
Melody  of  rhyme  ii.  109. 
Rhyme      necelfary       to 
French  verfe  ii.  1 1 1.  Me- 
lody  of  verfe   is    fo  in. 
chanting  as   to  draw   a 
veil  over  grofs  imperfec- 
tions   ii.    113.      Verfes 
compofed  in  thelhape  of 
an  ax  or  an  egg  ii.  284.. 
Violent  action)  ought  to  be 
excluded  from  the  ftage 
a  255. 


E        X. 

Virgil)  cenfured  for  want  of 
connedlion  i.  9.  his  verfe 
extremely  melodious  ii. 
66.  his  verfification  criri- 
cifed  ii.  75.  cenfured  ii. 
I  13,  216.  221 .  224.  241;. 

Fira^fi  tra%'eflie)  characte- 
rifed  i.  227, 

Virtue)  the  pleafures  of  vir. 
tue  never  decay  i.  227. 

Vifion)  the  largefl:  and  fmall- 
eft  angle  of  vifion  i.  105. 
106. 

Voltaire)  cenfured  ii.  211. 
244.  249. 

Voluntary  figns  of  paflion 
i.  267. 

Voluptuoufnefs  tends  to  vi- 
tiate our  tafte  ii.  320, 

Vowels  ii.  5,  l^c. 

Walk)  in  a  garden,  whether 
it  ougiu  to  be  fbaight  or 
waving  ii.  284  Artificial 
walk  elevated  above  the 
plain  ii.  285. 

Wall)  that  is  not  perpendi- 
cular occafions  an  uneafy 
feeling  i.  108. 

Waterfall  i.  108    156. 

Water-god)  ftatue  of,  pour- 
ing out  water  ii.  310. 

Way  of  the  world)  cenfured 
ii,  261,  the  unities  of 
place  and  time  ftrictly 
obferved  in  it  ii.  274. 

Will)  how  far  our  train  of 
perceptions  can  be  regu- 
lated by  it  i.  2.  189.  193. 
determined  by  defiie  i. 
1 10, 

Windows)  their  proportion 
S  z  ii. 


I      N      D 

li    29*.  double  row   il. 
301. 

Winter  garden)  n.  287. 

Wifli)  diftinguillied  from 
defire  i.  18. 

Wit)  defined  i.  5.  236.  fel- 
dom  united  with  judge 
ment  i,  5.  but  generally 
with  niemorj  i.  5.  not 
concordant  withgrandcur 
i.  187.  Wit  ch.  13.  Wit 
in  founds  i  249.  Wit  in 
architecture  ii.  309. 

Wonder)  inftantaneous  i. 
68.  decays  fuddenly  i.  70. 
Wonders  and  prodigies 
find  ready  credit  with  the 
vulgar  i.  99.  Wonder  de- 
fined i.  159.  ftudied  in 
Chinefe  gardens  ii    290. 

Words)  rules  for  coining 
words  i.  23.  Note.  Play 
of  words  i.  326,  ^c. 
Jingle  of  words  i.  328 
Words  conlidered  with 
refpect  to  their  found  ii. 
7.  Words  of  different 
languages  compared  ii.  8. 
What  are  their  beft  ar 
rangement  in  a  period  ii. 
il.  A  conjundtion  or  I 
diijunflion  in  the  mem- ' 


E      X. 

'  bersof  the  thought  ought 
to  be  imitated  in  the  ex- 
preffion  ii  17.  22.  «3. 
Words  exprefling  things 
connedled  ought  to  be 
placed  as  near  together  ts 
poinble  ii.  41,  ^c.  In 
what  part  of  a  fentence 
doth  a  word  make  the 
greateft  figure  ii.  47. 
Words  acquire  a  beautjr 
from  their  meaning  ii. 
55.  192.  Some  words 
make  an  impreffion  rc- 
fembling  that  of  their 
meaning  ii.  57.  The  words 
ought  to  accord  with  tho 
fentiment  i.  282.  314. 
316  ii  16  217.  A  word 
is  often  redoubled  to  add 
force  to  the  expreflion  i. 
316  ii.  225.  See  Lan* 
guage. 

Writing)  a  fubject  intended 
for  amufement  may  be 
highly  ornamented  i.  209, 
A  grand  fubject  appears 
beft  in  a  (>lain  drefs  i.  2 10. 

Youth)  requires  more  va- 
riety of  amufement  than 
old  age  i.  190. 


I      N       1      S. 


N£WBOOKS,  Printed  and  Sold  by  Charlis 
Ingham,  in  Skinner-Row. 

[Price  neatly  bound,  Six  Britifh  Shillings. — Printed 
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A  REPORT  of  feme  Proceedings  on  the  Com- 
miflion  of  Oyer  and  Terminer  and  Goal  De- 
livery, for  the  Trial  of  the  Rebels  in  the  Year 
I  746,  in  the  County  of  Surry, and  of  other  Crown 
Cafes.  To  which  are  added,  Difcouries  upon  a 
fewBranches  of  the  Crown  Law.  JBy  Sir  Mi- 
chael FosTKR,  Knt. 

*'  The  Subject  of  this  Book  is  equally  ufeiul  to 
the  Law-Student,  and  entertaining  to  the  SchcK.r 
or  Gentleman.  The  Reports  and  Cafes  are  ilatcd 
■with  great  Clearnefs  and  Brevity;  and  the  judicious 
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ledge of  the  Crown-Law,  and  profound  Reflection. 
The  Difcourfes  annexed  to  the  Reports  efpecially, 
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and  the  Remaiks  on  fome  Paflages  in  the  Hillory 
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tions unfavourable  to  the  Principles  of  the  prefent 
happy  Eftablifhment,  by  the  Authority  of  fo  great 
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**  We  cannot  fufliciently  recommend  the  learn- 
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flaughter.  Accomplices  in  Treafon,  or  Aiders  and 
Abettors  in  Felony,  as  opening  all  the  Sources  of 
Common  and  Statute  Law,  of  the  Laws  of  Nature, 
Principles  of  Morality  and  found  Reafon. 

**  With  Refpe6t  to  the  Utility  of  the  Subjed, 
fee  obferves  juftly  and  modeflly  in  his  Preface,  that 
it  is  calculated  to  remind  Gentlemen  of  Rank  and 
Character  in  the  Profeffion,  of  what  their  own 
Rciding  and  Experience  rnay  have  fuggefted  j  and, 

at 


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Critical  Review. 

The  Life  of  Pope  Sixtus  the  Fifth.  (One  of 
the  moll  remarkabi;;  and  entertaining  Lives  that  is 
to  be  met  with  in  Antient  or  Modern  Hillory). 
In  which  is  included  the  State  of  England,  France, 
Spain,  Italy,  the  Swifs  Cantons,  Germany,  Po- 
land, Ruffia,  Sweden,  and  the  Low  Countries,  at 
that  Time.  With  an  Account  of  St.  Peter's,  the 
Conclave,  and  Manner  of  Chufmg  a  Pope  ;  the 
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quedu6ls.  Bridges,  Hofpitals,  Palaces,  Streets, 
Towns,  and  other  noble  Edifices,  begun  or  finifh'd 
by  him.  The  Whole  interfpers'd  with  feveral 
Curious  Incidents  and  Anecdotes,  not  to  be  met 
■with  in  any  other  Author.  Tranflated  from  the 
Italian  of  Gregorio  Leti.  With  a  Preface  and 
Notes.  By  Ellis  Farneworth,  M.  A.  fome  time  of 
Tefus  College  in  Cambridge,  and  Chaplain  to  fe- 
veral of  his  Majefly's  Ships,  during  the  late  War. 

6s.  66. 

Webb  on  the  Beauties  of  Poetry  and  Painting, 
and  an  Enquiry  into  the  Merits  of  the  mofl  Ce- 
lebrated Painters,  Antient  and  Modern,    o     284- 

Voltaire's  Univerfal  Hiftory,  from  the  Reign  of 
Charlemaign  to  the  Age  of  Lewis  the  14th,  in 
J  Vols.  o     10  10