$99. On Epithets.

I have faid nothing of Epithets. Their bufmefs is to exprefs the nature of the things they are applied to; and the choice of them depends upon a good judgment, to diftinguish what are the most proper titles to be given on all occafions, and a complete knowledge in the accidents, qualities, and affections of every thing in the world. They are of most ornament when they are of ufe: they are to determine the character of every perfon, and decide the merits of every caufe; confcience and juftice are to be regarded, and great fkill and exactnefs are required in the ufe of them. For it is of great importance to call things by their right names: the points of fatire, and ftrains of compliment, depend upon it; otherwife we may make an afs of a lion, commend a man in fatire, and lampoon him in panegyric. Here alfo there is room for genius: common juftice and judgment fhould direct us to fay what is proper at leaft; but it is parts and fire that will prompt us to the moft lively and mott forcible epithets that can be applied: and 'tis in their energy and propriety their beauty lies.

Ibid.

§ 100. On Allegories. Allegories I need not mention, because they are not fo much any ornament of ftyle, as an artful way of recommending truth to the world in a borrowed shape, and a drefs more agreeably to the fancy, than naked truth herself can be. Truth is ever most beautiful and evident in her native drefs and the arts that are ufed to convey her to our minds, are no argument

that the is deficient, but so many teftimonies of the corruption of our nature, when truth, of all things the plainest and fincereft, is forced to gain admittance to us in difguise, and court us in masquerade. Ibid.

§ 101. On the Sublime. There is one ingredient more required to the perfection of style, which I have partly mentioned already, in fpeaking of the fuitableness of the thoughts to the fubject, and of the words to the thoughts; but you will give me leave to confider it in another light, with regard to the majefty and dignity of the subject.

It is fit, as we have faid already, that the thoughts and expreffions should be fuited to the matter on all occafions; but in nobler and greater fubjects, especially where the theme is facred and divine, it must be our care to think and write up to the dignity and majefty of the things we prefume to treat of: nothing little, mean, or low, no childish thoughts, or boyish expreffions, will be endured: all must be awful and grave, and great and folemn. The nobleft fentiments must be conveyed in the weightieft words: all ornaments and illuftrations must be borrowed from the richest parts of univerfal nature; and in divine fubjects, especially when we attempt to fpeak of God, of his wifdom, goodnets, and power, of his mercy and justice, of his difpenfations and providence (by all which he is pleafed to manifeft himself to the fons of men) we must raife our thoughts, and enlarge our minds, and fearch all the treasures of knowledge for every thing that is great, wonderful, and magnificent: we can only exprefs our thoughts of the Creator in the works of his creation; and the brightest of thefe can only give us fome faint fhadows of his greatnefs and his glory. The strongeft figures are too weak, the most exalted language too low, to exprefs his ineffable excellence. No hyperbole can be brought to heighten our thoughts; for in fo feblime a theme, nothing can be hyperbolical. The riches of imagination are poor, and all the rivers of eloquence are dry, in fupplying thought on an infinite fubject. How poor and mean, how bafe and groveling, are the Heathen conceptions of the Deity! fomething fublime and noble muft needs be faid on fo great an occafion; but in this great article, the most celebrated of the Heathen pens feem to flag

and

others, this may pafs for a peculiar commendation of them; for thofe divifions and particulars which obfcure and perplex other writings, give a clearer light to ours. All that I would infinuate, therefore, is only this, that it is not neceffary to lay the method we ufe before the reader, only to write, and then he will read, in order.

But it requires a full command of the fubject, a diftinct view, to keep it always in fight, or elfe, without fome method firft defigned, we fhould be in danger of lofing it, and wandering after it, till we have loft ourselves, and bewildered the reader.

A prescribed method is neceffary for weaker heads, but the beauty of order is its freedom and unconstraint: it must be dispersed and shine in all the parts through the whole performance; but there is no neceffity of writing in trammels, when we can move more at eafe without them: neither is the proportion of writing to be meafured out like the proportions of a horfe, where every part must be drawn in the minuteft respect to the fize and bignefs of the reft; but it is to be taken by the mind, and formed upon a general view and confideration of the whole. The ftatuary that carves Hercules in ftone, or cafts him in brafs, may be obliged to take his dimenfions from his foot; but the poet that defcribes him is not bound up to the geometer's rule: nor is an author under any obligation to write by the fcale.

These hints will ferve to give you fome notion of order and proportion; and I must not dwell too long upon them, left I tranfgrefs the rules I am laying down.

Felton.

103. A Recapitulation.

I fhall make no formal recapitulation of what I have delivered. Out of all these rules together, rifes a juft ftyle, and a perfect compofition. All the latitude that can be admitted, is in the ornament of writing; we do not require every author to shine in gold and jewels: there is a moderation to be used in the pomp and trappings of a difcourfe: it is not neceffary that every part should be embellished and adorned; but the decoration fhould be fkilfully dif tributed through the whole: too full and glaring a light is offenfive, and confounds the eyes in heaven itself there are vacancies and spaces between the ftars; and the day is not lefs beautiful for being interperfed with clouds; they only moderate the brightness of the fun, and, without di

minifhing from his fplendour, gild and adorn themselves with his rays. But to defcend from the fkies: It is in writing as in drefs; the richest habits are not always the completeft, and a gentleman may make a better figure in a plain fuit, than in an embroidered coat: the dress depends upon the imagination, but must be adjusted by the judgment, contrary to the opinion of the ladies, who value nothing but a good fancy in the choice of their cloaths. The firft excellence is to write in purity, plainly, and clearly; there is no difpenfation from thefe but afterwards you have your choice of colours, and may enliven, adorn, and paint your fubject as you please.

In writing, the rules have a relation and dependance on one another. They are held in one focial bond, and joined, like the moral virtues, and liberal arts, in a fort of harmony and concord. He that cannot write pure, plain English, must never pretend to write at all; it is in vain for him to drefs and adorn his difcourfe; the finer he endeavours to make it, he makes it only the more ridiculous. And on the other fide, let a man write in the exactest purity and propriety of language, if he has not life and fire, to give his work fome force and fpirit, it is nothing but a mere corpfe, and a lumpish, unwieldy mass of matter. But every true genius, who is perfect master of the language he writes in, will let no fitting ornaments and decorations be wanting. His fancy flows in the richeft vein, and gives his pieces fuch lively colours, and fo beautiful a complexion, that you would almost say his own blood and fpirits were transfufed into the work. Ibid.

§ 104. How to form a right Tafie. A perfect maftery and elegance of style is to be learned from the common rules, but must be improved by reading the orators and poets, and the celebrated mafters in every kind; this will give you a right tafte, and a true relifh; and when you can diftinguish the beauties of every finished piece, you will write yourself with equal commendation.

I do not affert that every good writer must have a genius for poetry; I know Tully is an undeniable exception: but I will venture to affirm, that a foul that is not moved with poetry, and has no tafte that way, is too dull and lumpish ever to write with any profpect of being read. It is a fatal mistake, and fimple fuperftition,

to

to difcourage youth from poetry, and endeavour to prejudice them against it; if they are of a poetical genius, there is no reftraining them: Ovid, you know, was deaf to his father's frequent admonitions. But if they are not quite fmitten and bewitched with love of verfe, they should be trained to it, to make them mafters of every kind of poetry, that by learning to imitate the originals, they may arrive at a right conception, and a true tafte of their authors: and being able to write in verfe upon occafion, I can affure you, is no difadvantage to profe; for without relishing the one, a man must never pretend to any taste of the other.

Tafte is a metaphor, borrowed from the palate, by which we approve or diflike what we eat and drink, from the agreeableness or difagreeableness of the relish in our mouth. Nature directs us in the common ufe, and every body can tell fweet from bitter, what is sharp or four, or vapid, or naufeous; but it requires fenfes more refined and exercised, to discover every tafte that is most perfect in its kind; every palate is not a judge of that, and yet drinking is more ufed than reading. All that I pretend to know of the matter, is, that wine fhould be, like a ftyle, clear, deep, bright, and ftrong, fincere and pure, found and dry (as our advertisements do well exprefs it) which last is a commendable term, that contains the juice of the richeft fpirits, and only keeps out all cold and dampness.

It is common to commend a man for an ear to mufic, and a taste of painting; which are nothing but a juft difcernment of what is excellent and moft perfect in them. The first depends entirely on the ear; a man can never expect to be a master, that has not an ear tuned and fet to mufic; and you can no more fing an ode without an ear, than without a genius you can write one. Painting, we should think, requires fome understanding in the art, and exact knowledge of the best masters' manner, to be a judge of it; but this faculty, like the reft, is founded in nature: knowledge in the art, and frequent converfation with the beft originals, will certainly perfect a man's judgment; but if there is not a natural fagacity and aptnefs, experience will be of no great fervice. A good tafte is an argument of a great foul, as well as a lively wit. It is the infirmity of poor fpirits to be taken with every appearance, and dazzled by every thing that sparkles:

but to pass by what the generality of the world admires, and to be detained with nothing but what is most perfect and excellent in its kind, fpeaks a fuperior genius, and a true difcernment: a new picture by fome meaner hand, where the colours are fresh and lively, will engage the eye, but the pleafure goes off with looking, and what we ran to at first with eagerness, we prefently leave with indifference: but the old pieces of Raphael, Michael Angelo, Tintoret, and Titian, though not fo inviting at first, open to the eye by degrees; and the longer and oftner we look, we ftill discover new beauties and find new pleafure. I am not a man of so much severity in my temper as to allow you to be pleafed with nothing but what is in the laft perfection; for then, poffibly, fo many are the infirmities of writing, beyond other arts, you could never be pleased. There is a wide difference in being nice to judge of every degree of perfection, and rigid in refufing whatever is deficient in any point. This would only be weakness of ftomach, not any commendation of a good palate; a true tafte judges of defects as well as perfections, and the best judges are always the perfons of the greatest candour. They will find none but real faults, and whatever they commend, the praise is justly due.

I have intimated already, that a good tafte is to be formed by reading the beft authors; and when you fhall be able to point out their beauties, to difcern the brighteft paffages, the ftrength and elegance of their language, you will always write yourself, and read others by that ftandard, and must therefore neceffarily excel. Felton.

§ 105. Tafte to be improved by Imitation.

In Rome there were fome popular orators, who, with a falfe eloquence and violent action, carried away the applause of the people and with us we have fome popular men, who are followed and admired for the loudnefs of their voice, and a falfe pathos both in utterance and writing. I have been fometimes in fome confufion to hear fuch perfons commended by thofe of fuperior fenfe, who could distinguifh, one would think, between empty, pompous, fpecious harangues, and thofe pieces in which all the beauties of writing

are combined. A natural taste muft there

fore be improved, like fine parts, and a great genius; it must be affifted by art, or

it

it will be eafily vitiated and corrupted. Falfe eloquence paffes only where true is not underfood; and nobody will commend bad writers, that is acquainted with good.

Thefe are only fome curfory thoughts on a fabject that will not be reduced to rules. To treat of a true tafte in a formal method, would be very infipid; it is beft collected from the beauties and laws of writing, and muft rife from every man's own apprehenfion and notion of what he hears and reads.

It may be therefore of farther ufe, and. moft advantage to you, as well as a relief and entertainment to refresh your fpirits in the end of a tedious difcourie, if befides mentioning the claffic authors as they fall in my way, I lay before you fome of the correctelt writers of this age and the laft, in feveral faculties, upon different fubjects: Not that you should be drawn into a fervile imitation of any of them: but that you may fee into the fpirit, force, and beauty of them all, and form your pen from thofe general notions of life and delicacy, of fine thoughts and happy words, which rife to your mind upon reading the great masters of style in their feveral ways, and manner of excelling.

I must beg leave, therefore, to defer a little the entertainment I promifed, while I endeavour to lead you into the true way of imitation, if ever you fhall propofe any original for your copy; or, which is infinitely preferable, into a perfect maftery of the fpirit and perfections of every celebrated writer, whether ancient or modern. Felton.

106. On the Hiftorical Style, Hitory will not admit thofe decorations other fubjects are capable of; the paffions and affections are not to be moved with any thing, but the truth of the narration. All the force and beauty muft lie in the order and expreffion. To reiate every event with clearness and perfpicuity, in fuch words as best exprefs the nature of the fubject, is the chief commendation of an hiftorian's ftyle. Hiftory gives us a draught of facts and tranfactions in the world. The colours thefe are painted in; the frength and fignificancy of the feveral faces; the regular confufion of a battle; the diftractions of tumult fenfibly depict ed; every object and every occurrence fo prefented to your view, that while you read, you feem indeed to fee them: this is

For this reafon we praife Herodotus and Thucydides among the Greeks, for I will mention no more of them; and upon this account we commend Salluft and Livy among the Romans. For though they all differ in their ftyle, yet they all agree in thefe common excellencies. Herodotus difplays a natural oratory in the beauty and clearness of a numerous and folemn diction; he flows with a fedate and majestic pace, with an eafy current, and a pleafant tream. Thucydides does fometimes write in a style fo clofe, that almost every word is a fentence, and every fentence almoft acquaints us with fomething new; fo that from the multitude of caufes, and variety of matter crowded together we should fufpe&t him to be obfcure: but yet fo happy, fo admirable a matter is he in the art of expreffion, fo proper and fo full, that we cannot fay whether his diction does more illuftrate the things he speaks of, or whether his words themfelves are not illuftrated by his matter, fo mutual a light do his expreffion and fubject reflect on each other. His diction, though it be preffed and clofe, is nevertheless great and magnificent, equal to the dignity and importance of his fubject. He firft, after Herodotus, ventured to adorn the hiftorian's ftyle, to make the narration more pleafing, by leaving the flatnefs and nakedness of former ages. This is moft obfervable in his battles, where he does not only relate the mere fight, but writes with a martial fpirit, as if he ftood in the hottest of the engagement; and what is most excellent, as well as remarkable in fo close a ftyle, is, that it is numerous and harmonious, that his words are not laboured nor forced, but fall into their places in a natural order, as intq their moft proper fituation, Ibid.

$108. Of SALLUST and LIVY, Salluft and Livy you will read, I hope,