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He will forget all respect for the feelings and liberties of beings who are to be regarded as but a subordinate machinery, to be actuated, or to be thrown aside when not actuated, by the spring of his commanding spirit.

I have before asserted that this strong character may be exhibited with a mildenss of manner, and that, generally, it will thus best sccure its efficacy. But this mildness must often be at the cost of great effort; and how much considerate policy or benevolent forbearance it will require, for a man to exert his utmost vigour in the very task, as it will appear to him at the time, of cramping that vigour! Lycurgus appears to have been a high example of mild patience in the firm prosecution of designs which were to be effected among a perverse multitude.

It is probable that the men most distinguished for decision, have not, in general, possessed a large share of tenderness; and it is easy to imagine that the laws of our nature will with great difficulty allow the combination of the refined sensibilities with a hardy, nevershrinking, never-yielding constancy. Is it not almost of the essence of this constancy to be free from even the perception of such impressions as cause a mind, | weak through susceptibility, to relax or waver; just as the skin of the elephant, or the armour of the rhinoceros, would be but indistinctly sensible to the application of a force by which a small animal, with a skin of thin and delicate texture, would be pierced or lacerated to death? No doubt, this firmness consists partly in overcoming feelings, but it may consist partly too in not having them. To be tremblingly alive to gentle impressions, and yet to be able to preserve, when the prosecution of a design requires it, an immoveable heart, amidst the most imperious causes of subduing emotion, is perhaps not an impossible constitution of mind, but it must be the rarest endowment of humanity.

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If you take a view of the first rank of decisive men, you will observe that their faculties have been too much bent to arduous effort, their souls have been kept in too military an attitude, they have been begirt with too much iron, for the melting movements of the heart. Their whole being appears too much arrogated and occupied by the spirit of severe design, compelling them to work systematically toward some defined end, to be sufficiently at ease for the indolent complacency, the soft lassitude, of gentle affections, which love to surrender themselves to the present felicities, forgetful of all enterprises of great pith and moment.' The man seems rigorously intent still on his own affairs, as he walks, or regales, or mingles with domestic society; and appears to despise all the feelings that will not take rank with the grave labours and decisions of intellect, or coalesce with the unremitting passion which is his spring of action: he values not feelings which he cannot employ either as weapons or as engines. He loves to be actuated by a passion so strong as to compel into exercise the utmost force of his being, and fix him in a tone, compared with which, the gentle affections, if he had felt them, would be accounted tameness, and their exciting causes, insipidity.

Yet we cannot willingly allow that tenderness is totally incompatible with the most impregnable inflexibility; nor can we help believing that such men as Timoleon, Alfred, and Gustavus Adolphus, must have been very fascinating domestic associates, whenever the urgency of their affairs would allow them to withdraw from the interests of statesmen and warriors, to indulge the affections of men: most fascinating, for, with a relative or friend who had any right perceptions, all the value of their stronger character would be recognized in the gentler one; the man whom nothing could subdue, would exalt the quality of the tenderness which softened him to recline.

But it were much easier to enumerate a long train of

ancient and modern names of men, who have had the decision without the softness. Perhaps indeed they

| have yielded sometimes to some species of love, as a mode of amusing their passions for an interval, till greater engagements have summoned them into their proper element; when they have shown how little the sentiment ever belonged to the heart, by the ease with which they could relinquish the temporary favourite. In other cases, where there have not been the selfish inducements, which this passion supplies, to the exhibition of something like softness, and where they have been left to the pure sympathies of humanity alone, në rock on the face of the earth could be harder.

The celebrated King of Prussia occurs to me, as a capital instance of the decisive character; and there occurs to me, at the same time, one of the anecdotes of his life.* Intending to make, in the night, an important movement in his camp, which was in sight of the enemy, he gave orders that by eight o'clock all the lights in the camp should be put out, on pain of death. The moment that the time was past, he walked out himself to see whether all were dark. He found a light in the tent of a Captain Zietern, which he entered just as the officer was folding up a letter. Zietern knew him, and instantly fell on his knees to entreat his mercy. The king asked to whom he had been writing: he said it was a letter to his wife, which he had retained the candle these few minutes beyond the time in order to finish. The king coolly ordered him to rise, and write one line more, which he should dictate. This line was to inform his wife, without any explanation, that by such an hour the next day, he should be a dead man. The letter was then sealed, and despatched as it had been intended; and, the next day, the Captain was executed. I say nothing of the justice of the punishment itself; but this cool barbarity to the affection both of the officer and his wife, was enough to brand the character indelibly. It proved how little the decisive hero and pretended philosopher was suscepti ble of such an affection, or capable of sympathizing with its pains.

At the same time, it is proper to observe, that the case may easily occur, in which a man must be resolute to act in a manner which may make him appear to want the finer feelings. He must do what he knows will cause pain to persons who will feel it severely. He may be obliged to resist affectionate wishes, expostulations, entreaties, and tears. Take this same instance. If the wife of Zietern had come to supplicate for him. not only the remission of the punishment of death, but an exemption from any other severe punishment, which was perhaps justly due to the violation of such an order, on so important an occasion, it had then probably been the duty and the virtue of the commander to deny the most interesting suppliant, and to resist the most pathetic appeals which could have been made to his feelings.

LETTER VI.

Circumstances tending to consolidate this Character-Opposition-Desertion-Marius-Satin-Charles de MoorSuccess has the same Tendency-Cæsar-Habit of Asso ciating with Inferiors-Voluntary means of forming or confirming this Character-The Acquisition of perfect Knowledge in the Department in which we are to act-The Cultivation of a connected and Conclusive Manner of reasoning-The resolute commencement of Action in a Manner to commit ourselves irretrievably-Ledyard-The choice of a dignified Order of Concerns-The Approbation of Conscience-Yet melancholy to consider how many of the most distinguished Possessors of the Quality have been wicked.

VARIOUS assignable circumstances may contribute much to confirm the character in question. I shall just notice two or three.

*The authenticity of this anecdote, which I read in some tri

fling fugitive publication many years since, has been quest.. ned.

And first opposition. The passions which inspirit for nothing but fire. If he is capable of grand concepmen to resistance, and sustain them in it, such as tion and enterprise, he may, like Spartacus. make a anger, indignation, and resentment, are evidently far daring attempt against the whole social order of the state stronger than those which have reference to friendly where he has been oppressed. If he has great humanobjects; and if any of these strong passions are fre-ity and principle, he may become one of the noblest of quently excited by opposition, they infuse a certain mankind, and display a generous virtue to which society quality into the general temperament of the mind which had no claim, and which it is not worthy to reward, if remains after the immediate excitement is past. They it should at last become inclined. No, he will say, continually strengthen the principle of re-action; they give your rewards to another; as it has been no part of put the mind in the habitual array of defence and self- my object to gain them, they are not necessary to my assertion, and often give it the aspect and the posture satisfaction. I have done good, without expecting your of a gladiator, when there appears no confronting com- gratitude, and without caring for your approbation. If batant. When these passions are felt by the man whom conscience and my Creator had not been more auspiI describe, it is probable that each excitement is follow- cious than you, none of these virtues would ever have ed by a greater increase of this principle of re-action than opened to the day. When I ought to have been an obin other men, because this result is so congenial with ject of your compassion, I might have perished; now, his naturally resolute disposition. Let him be opposed when you find I can serve your interests, you will affect then, through the whole course of an extended design, to acknowledge me and reward me; I will not accept or in the general tenour of his actions; and this constant your rewards. In either casc, virtuous or wicked, the opposition would render him the service of an ally by man who has been compelled to do without assistance, corroborating his inflexibility. An irresolute mind inwill spurn interference. deed might be quelled and subjugated by a formidable kind of opposition; but the strong wind which blows out a taper, augments a powerful fire, if there is fuel enough to an indefinite intensity.

I believe you will find in fact that many of the individuals most eminently decisive in conduct, have made their way through opposition and contest; in which they have acquired both a prompt acuteness of faculty, and an inflexibility of temper, which even strong minds could never have attained in the tame security of facile, friendly coincidence. Very often, however, it is granted the firmness matured by such discipline is accompanied, in a man of virtue, with a Catonic severity, and in a mere man of the world, with an unhumanized, repulsive hardness.

Descrtion is another cause which may conduce to consolidate this character. A kind, mutually reclining dependence, is certainly the happiest state of human beings; but this necessarily prevents the development of some great individual powers which would be forced into action by a state of desertion. I lately happened to notice, with some surprise, an ivy, which being prevented from attaching itself to the rock beyond a certain point, had shot off into a bold, elastic stem, with an air of as much independence as any branch of oak in the vicinity. So a human being, thrown, whether by cruelty, justice, or accident, from all social support and kindness, if he has any vigour of spirit, and is not in the bodily debility of either childhood or age, will instantly begin to act for himself with a resolution which will appear like a new faculty. And the most absolute inflexibility is likely to characterize the resolution of an individual who is obliged to deliberate without consultation, and execute without assistance. He will disdain to concede to beings that have rejected him, or to forego a single particle of his designs or advantages, for the sake of the opinions or the will of all the world. Himself, his pursuits, and his interests, are emphatically The world is not his friend, nor the world's law,' and therefore he becomes regardless of every hing but its power, of which his policy carefully akes the measure, in order to ascertain his own means of action and impunity, as set against the world's means of annoyance, prevention, and retaliation.

his own.

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If this person has but little humanity or principle, he will become a misanthrope, or perhaps a villain, that will resemble a solitary wild beast of the night, which makes prey of every thing it can overpower, and cares

Possibly enough it might be one of the many but halftrue stories which could not fail to go abroad concerning a man who made, n his day, so great a figure. But as it does not at all misrepre. ent the general character of his mind, since there are many ncontrovertible facts proving against him as a great degree of de. berate cruelty as this anecdote would charge on him, the want f means to prove this one fact does not seem to impose any ne essity for omitting the illustration.

Common life would supply illustrations of the effect of desertion. Some of the most resolute men have become such, partly from being left friendless in early life. The case has also sometimes happened. that a wife and mother, remarkable perhaps for gentleness and acquiescence before, has been compelled, after the death of her husband on whom she depended, and when she has met with nothing but neglect or unkindness from relatives and those who had been deemed friends, to adopt a plan of her own, and has executed it with a resolution which has astonished even herself.

One regrets that the signal examples, real or fictitious, that most readily present themselves, are still of the depraved order. I fancy myself to see Marius sitting on the ruins of Carthage, where no arch or column that remained unshaken amidst the desolation, could present a stronger image of a firmness beyond the power of calamitous events to subdue. The rigid constancy which had before distinguished his character, would be aggravated by his finding himself thus an outcast from all human society; and he would proudly shake off every sentiment that had ever for an instant checked his designs by reminding him of social obligations. The lonely individual was placed in the alternative of becoming the victim or the antagonist of the power of the empire. While, with a spirit capable of confronting that power, he resolved, amidst those ruins, on a great experiment, he would enjoy a kind of sullen luxury in surveving the dreary situation, and recollecting the circumstances of his expulsion; since they would seem to him to sanction an unlimited vengeance; to present what had been his country as the pure legitimate prize for desperate achievement; and to give him a proud consequence in being reduced to maintain singly a quarrel against the bulk of mankind. He would exult that nis desolate condition gave him a proof of his possessing a mind which no misfortunes could repress or intimidate, and that it kindled an animosity intense enough to force that mind from firm endurance into impetuous action. He would feel as if he became stronger for enterprise, in proportion as he became more inexorable; and the sentiment with which he quitted his solitude would be, Rome expelled her patriot, let her receive her evil genius.

The decision of Satan, in Paradise Lost, is represented as consolidated by his reflections on his hopeless banishment from heaven, which oppress him with sadness for a moment, but he soon resumes his invincible spirit, and utters the impious but sublime sentiment,

What matter where, if I he still the same.'

You remember how this effect of desertion is represented in Charles de Moor. His father's supposed cruel rejection consigned him irretrievably to the career of atrocious enterprise, in which, notwithstanding the most

interesting emotions of humanity and tenderness, he persisted with heroic determination till he considered his destiny as accomplished.

Success tends considerably to reinforce this character. It is true that a man possessing it in a high degree will not lose it by occasional failure; for if the failure was caused by something entirely beyond the reach of all human knowledge and ability, he will remember that fortitude is the virtue required in meeting unfavourable events which in no sense depended on him; if by something which might have been known and prevented, he will feel that even the experience of failure completes his competence, by admonishing his prudence, and enlarging his understanding. But as all schemes and measures of action have reference to some end, and if wise, are correctly adapted to attain that end, continual failure would show something essentially wrong in a man's system, and either destroy his confidence, or prove it to be mere absurdity or obstinacy. On the contrary, when a man has ascertained by experiment the justness of his calculations and the extent of his powers, when he has measured his force with various persons, when he has braved and conquered difficulty, and partly seized the prize, he will advance with increasing assurance to the trials which still

await him.

In some men whose lives have been spent in constant perils, continued success has produced a confidence beyond its rational effect, by inspiring a persuasion that the common laws of human affairs were, in | their case, superseded by the decrees of a peculiar destiny, securing them from almost the possibility of disaster; and this superstitious feeling, though it has displaced the unconquerable resolution from its rational basis, has yet often produced the most wonderful ef fects. This persuasion dictated Cæsar's expression to the mariner who was terrified at the storm and billows, 'What art thou afraid of? Thy vessel carries Cæsar.' This idea had some influence among the intrepid men in the time of the English Commonwealth.

The wilfulness of an obstinate person is sometimes fortified by some single instance of remarkable success in his undertakings, which is promptly recalled in every case where his decisions are questioned or opposed, as a proof that he must in this instance too be right; especially if that one success happened contrary to your predictions.

Í shall only add, and without illustration, that the habit of associating with inferiors, among whom a man can always, and therefore does always, take the lead, is very conducive to a subordinate kind of decision of character. You may see this exemplified any day in an ignorant country 'squire among his vassals; especially if he wears the superadded majesty of Justice of the

Peace.

In viewing the characters and actions of the men who have possessed the supreme degree of the quality which I have attempted to describe, one cannot but wish it were possible to know how much of this astonishing superiority was created by the circumstances in which they were placed; but it seems inevitable to believe that there was some vast difference from ordinary men in the very structure of the mind. In observing lately a man who appeared too vacant almost to think of a purpose, too indifferent to resolve upon it, and too sluggish to execute it if he had resolved, I was distinctly struck with the idea of the difference between him and Marius, of whom I happened to have been thinking; and I felt it utterly beyond my power to believe that any circumstances on earth, though ever so perfectly combined and adapted, would have produced in this man, if placed under their fullest influence from his childhood. any resemblance (beyond perhaps a diminutive kind of revenge and cruelty) of the formidable Roman.

It is needless to discuss whether a person who is

practically evinced, at the age of maturity, to want the stamina of this character, can, by any process, acquire it. Indeed such a person cannot have sufficient force of will to make the complete experiment. If there is the unconquerable will that would persist to seize all possible means, and apply them in order to attain such an end, it would prove the existence already of a high degree of the character sought; and if there is not this will, how then is the supposed attainment possible?

Yet though it is improbable that a very irresolute man can ever become a habitually decisive one, it should be observed, that since there are many degrees of determined character, and since the essential principles of it, partially existing in those degrees, cannot be supposed subject to an absolute and ultimate limitation, like the dimension of the bodily stature, it might be possible to apply a discipline which should advance a man from the first degree to the second, and from that to the third, and how much farther-it will be well worth his trying, after he shall have made this first progress. I have but a very imperfect conception of the discipline; but will suggest a hint or two.

And in the first place, the indispensable necessity of a clear and comprehensive knowledge of the concerns before us, seems too obvious for remark; and yet no man has been sufficiently sensible of it, till he has been placed in circumstances which forced him to act before he had time, or after he had made ineffectual efforts, to obtain the needful information. The pain of having brought things to an unfortunate issue, is hardly greater than that of proceeding in the conscious ignorance which continually threatens such an issue. While thus proceeding without plan or guide, because he positively cannot be permitted to remain in inaction, a man looks round for information as eagerly as a benighted wanderer would for the light of a human dwelling. He perhaps labours to recal what he thinks he once heard or read in relation to a similar situation, without dreaming at the time he heard or read it, that such instruction could ever be of importance to him; and is distressed to find that he cannot accurately recollect it. He would give a considerable sum, if some particular book could be brought to him at the instant; or a certain document which he believes to be in existence; or the detail of a process, the terms of a prescription, or the model of an implement. He thinks how many people know, without its being of any present use to them, exactly what could be of such important service to him, if he could know it. In some cases, a line, a sentence, a monosyllable of affirming or denying, or a momentary sight of an object, would be inexpressibly valuable and welcome. And he resolves that if he can once happily escape from the present difficulty, he will apply himself day and night to obtain knowledge, rather than be so involved and harassed again. It might even be of service to have been occasionally forced to act under the disadvantage of conscious ignorance, if the affair was not very important, nor the consequence very injurious, as an effectual lesson on the necessity of knowledge in order to decision either of plan or execution. It is indeed an extreme case that will compel a considerate man to act without knowledge; yet he may often be necessitated to proceed to action, when he is sensible his information does not extend to the whole of the concern in which he is going to commit himself. And in this case, he will feel no little uneasiness, while transacting that part of it in which his knowledge is competent, when he looks forward to the point where that knowledge terminates; unless he is conscious of a very prompt faculty of catching information at the moment that he wants it for use as Indians set out on a long journey with but a small stock of provision because they are certain that their bows or guns will procure it by the way. It is one of the nicest points of wisdom to decide how much less than complete knowledge in any question of practical interest, will

warrant a man to venture on an undertaking, in the pre- | sumption that the deficiency will be supplied in time to prevent either perplexity or disaster.

A thousand familiar instances show the effect of perfect knowledge on determination. An artizan may be said to be decisive as to the mode of working a piece of iron or wood, because he is certain of the proper process and the effect. A man perfectly acquainted with the intricate paths of a district, takes the right one without a moment's hesitation; while a stranger who has only some very vague information, is lost in perplexity. It is easy to imagine what a number of circumstances may occur in the course of a life or even of a year, in which a man cannot thus readily determine, and thus, confidently proceed, without an extent and an exactness of knowledge which few persons have application enough to acquire.

In connexion with the necessity of knowledge, I would suggest the importance of cultivating, with the utmost industry, a conclusive manner of reasoning. In the first place. let the general course of thinking be reasoning; for it should be remembered that this name does not belong to a series of thoughts and fancies which follow one another without deduction or dependence, and which can therefore no more bring a subject to a proper issue, than a number of separate links will answer the mechanical purpose of a chain. The conclusion which terminates such a series, does not deserve the name of result, since it has little more than a casual connexion with what went before; the conclusion might as well have taken place in an earlier point of the train, or have been deferred till that train had been extended much farther. Instead of having been busily employed in this kind of thinking, for perhaps many hours, a man might as well have been sleeping all the time; since the single thought which is now to determine his conduct, might have happened to be the first thought that occurred to him on awaking. It only happens to occur to him now; it does not follow from what he has been thinking all these hours; at least he cannot prove that some other thought might not just as properly have come in its place, at the end of this long series. It is easy to see how feeble that determination is likely to be, which is formed on so narrow a ground as the last accidental idea that comes into the mind, or on so loose a ground as this crude uncombined assemblage of ideas. Indeed it is difficult to form a determination at all on such slight ground. A man delays, and waits for some more satisfactory thought to occur to him; and perhaps he has not waited long, before an idea arises in his mind of a quite contrary tendency to the last. As this additional idea is not, more than that which preceded it, the result of any process of reasoning, nor brings with it any arguments, it is likely to give place soon to another, and still another; and they are all in succession of equal authority, that is, of none. If at last an idea occurs to him which seems of considerable authority, he may here make a stand, and adopt his resolution, with firmness, as he thinks, and commence the execution. But still, as he cannot verify the authority of the principle which has determined him, his resolution is likely to prove treacherous and evanescent in any serious trial. A principle so little defended and established by sound reasoning, is not terra firma for a man to trust himself upon it is only as a slight incrustation on a yielding clement; it is like the sand on the surface of the lake Serbonis, which broke away under the unfortunate army which had begun to advance on it, mistaking it for solid ground.-These remarks may seem to refer only to a single instance of deliberation; but they are equally applicable to all the deliberations and undertakings of a man's life; the same closely connected manner of thinking, which is so necessary to give firmness of determination and of conduct in a particular in

stance, will, if habitual, greatly contribute to form a decisive character.

Not only should thinking be thus reduced by a rigid discipline, to a train, in which all the parts at once depend upon and support one another, but also this train should be followed on to a full conclusion. It should be held as an absolute law, that the question must be disposed of before it is let alone. The mind may carry on this accurate process to some length, and then stop through indolence, or divert through levity; but it can never possess that rational confidence in its opinions which is requisite to the character in question, till it is conscious of acquiring them from trains of reasoning which are followed on to their result. The habit of thinking thus completely is indispensable to the character in general; and in any particular instance, it is found that short pieces of trains of reasoning, though correct as far as they go, are inadequate to qualify a man for the immediate concern. They are besides of little value for the assistance of future thinking; because from being left thus incomplete, they are but slightly retained by the mind, and soon sink away; in the same manner as walls left unfinished speedily moulder

After these remarks, I should take occasion to observe, that a vigorous exercise of thought may sometimes for a while seem to increase the difficulty of decision, by discovering a great number of unthoughtof reasons for a measure and against it, so that even a discriminating mind may, during a short space, find itself in the state of the magnetic needle under the equaBut no case in the world can really have this perfect equality of opposite reasons; nor will it long appear to have it, in the estimate of a clear and strongly exerted intellect, which after some time will ascertain, though the difference is small, which side of the question has twenty, and which has but nineteen.

tor.

Another thing that would powerfully assist toward complete decision, both in the particular instance, and in the general spirit of the character, is for a man to place himself in a situation like that in which Cæsar placed his soldiers, when he burnt the ships which brought them to land. If his judgment is really decided, let him commit himself irretrievably by doing something which shall compel him to do more, which shall necessitate him to do all. If a man resolves as a general intention to be a philanthropist, I would say to him, Form some actual plan of philanthropy, and begin the execution of it to-morrow, (perhaps I should say to-day,) so explicitly, that you cannot relinquish it without becoming despicable even in your own estimation. If a man would be a hero, let him, if it is possible to find a good cause in arms, go instantly to the camp. If a man would be a traveller through distant countries, let him actually prepare to set off. Let him not still dwell, in imagination, on mountains, rivers, and temples; but give directions about his remittances, his clothes, or the carriage, or the vessel, in which he is to go. Ledyard surprised the official person who asked him how soon he could be ready to set off for the interior of Africa, by replying promptly and firmly, 'To

morrow.'

Again, it is highly conducive to a manly firmness, that the interests in which it is exerted, should be of a dignified order, so as to give the passions an ample scope, and a noble object. The degradation that should devote these passions to mean and trivial pursuits would, in general, I should think, likewise debilitate their energy, and therefore preclude strength of cha

racter.

And finally, if I would repeat that one should think a man's own conscientious approbation of his conduct must be of vast importance to his decision in the outset, and his persevering constancy, I must at the same time acknowledge that it is astonishing to observe how many

of the eminent examples have been very wicked men. These must certainly be deemed also examples of the original want, or the depravation, or the destruction, of the moral sense.

I am sorry, and I attribute it to defect of memory, that a greater proportion of the illustrations introduced in this essay, are not as conspicuous for goodness as for power. It is melancholy to contemplate beings, whom our imagination represents as capable, (when they possessed great external means in addition to the force of

their minds,) of the grandest utility, capable of vindicating each good cause which has languished in a world adverse to all goodness, and capable of intimidating the collective vices of a nation or an age-becoming themselves the very centres and volcanoes of those vices; and it is melancholy to follow them in serious thought, from this region, of which not all the powers and difficulties and inhabitants together. could have subdued their adamantine resolution, to the Supreme Tribunal where that resolution must tremble and melt away.

ESSAY III.

ON THE APPLICATION OF THE EPITHET ROMANTIC.

LETTER I.

words, dull, stupid, and ridiculous, which he is repeat Great convenience of having a number of Words that will an- ing many times to compensate for the incapacity of hi swer the Purposes of Ridicule or Reprobation without hav- ting off the right thing at once. These vague epithets ing any precise Meaning-Puritan-Methodist-Jacobin describe nothing, discriminate nothing; they express -The word Romantic of the greatest Service to Persons, no species, are as applicable to ten thousand things as who wanting to show their Scorn, have not wherewithal in to this one, and he has before employed them on a the way of Sense or Wit-Whenever this Epithet is apnumberless diversity of subjects. But he can perceive plied let the exact meaning be demanded-Does it attribute, to what it is applied to, the kind of Absurdity prevalent in that censure or contempt has the smartest effect, when the works called Romances ?-That absurdity was from the its expressions have an appropriate peculiarity, which predominance. in various Modes. of Imagination over adapts them more precisely to the present subject than Judgment-Mental Character of the early Romance Wri- to another; and he is therefore not quite satisfied with ters-Opposite Character of Cervantes-Delightful, delu- the expressions which say about it and about it,' but sive, and mischievous Operation of a predominant Imagi- do not say the thing itself; which rather show his misnation-Yet desirable, for s veral Reasons, that the Imagi-chievous will than prove his mischievous power. He nation should have this Ascendancy in early Life.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

A thoughtful judge of sentiments, books, and men, will often. find reason to regret that the language of censure is so casy and so undefined. It costs no labour, and needs no intellect, to pronounce the words, foolish, stupid, dull, odious, absurd, ridiculous. The weakest or most uncultivated mind may therefore gratify its vanity, laziness, and malice, all at once, by a prompt application of vague, condemnatory words, where a wise and liberal man would not feel himself warranted to pronounce without the most deliberate consideration, and where such consideration might perhaps terminate in applause. Thus the most excellent performances, whether in the department of thinking, or of action, might be consigned to contempt, if there were no better judges, on the authority of those who could not even understand them. A man who wishes some decency and sense to prevail in the circulation of opinions, will do well, when he hears these decisions of ignorant arrogance, to call for a precise explication of the manner in which the terms apply to the subject. There is a competent number of words for this use of cheap censure; but though a man deems himself to be giving no mean proof of sagacity in this confident readiness to condenin, even with this impotence of language, he may however, have a certain consciousness that there is, in some other minds, a keen dexterity which would find expressions to bite harder than the

wants words and phrases which would make the edge of his clumsy meaning fall just where it ought. Yes, he wants words; for his meaning is sharp, he knows, il only the words would come.

Discriminative censure must be conveyed, either in a sentence which expresses some marked and acute turn of thought, instead of simply applying an epithet, or in an epithet so specifically appropriate, that the single word is sufficient to fix the condemnation by the mere precision with which it describes. But as the censurer perhaps cannot succeed in either of these ways, he is willing to seek some other resource. And he may often find it in cant terms, which have a more spitef force, and seem to have more particularity of meaning, th plain, common words, without needing any shrewdness for their application. Each of these is supposed to denominate some one class or character of scorned or reprobated things, but leaves it so imperfectly defined. that dull malice may venture to assign to the class any thing which it would desire to throw under the odium of the denomination. Such words serve for a mode of collective execution, somewhat like the vessels which, in a season of outrage in a neighbouring country, received a promiscuous crowd of reputed criminals, of unexamined and dubious similarity, and were then sunk in the flood. You cannot wonder that such compendious words of decision, which can give quick vent to crude impatient censure, emit plenty of antipathy in a few syllables, and save the condemner the difficulty

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