Such authors as thofe, whofe characters I have been giving, one never tires of reading. There is nothing in their manner that trains or fatigues our thoughts: we are pleased, without being dazzled by their luftre. So powerful is the charm of fimplicity in an author of real genius, that it atones for many defects, and reconciles us to many a careless expreffion. Hence, in all the moft excellent authors, both in profe and verfe, the fimple and natural manner may be always remarked; although other beauties being predominant, this forms not their peculiar and diftinguish ing character. Thus Milton is fimple in the midst of all his grandeur; and Demofthenes in The midst of all his vehemence. To grave and folemn writings, fimplicity of manner adds the more venerable air. Accordingly, this has often been remarked as the prevailing character through. out all the facred fcriptures: and indeed no other character of ftyle was fo much fuited to the dignity of inspiration. Of authors, who, notwithstanding many excellencies, have rendered their ftyle much lefs beautiful by want of fimplicity, I cannot give a more remarkable example than Lord Shaftsbury. This is an author on whom I have made obfervations feveral times before, and fhall now take leave of him, with giving his general character under this head. Confiderable merit, doubtlefs, he has. His works might be read with profit for the moral philofophy which they contain, had he not filled them with fo many oblique and invidious infinuations VOL. XXVI. against the Chriftian religion ; thrown out, too, with fo much fpleen and fatire, as do no honour to his memory, either as an author or a man. His language has many beauties. It is firm, and fupported in an uncommon degree it is rich and mufical. No English author, as I formerly fhewed, has attended fo much to. the regular conftruction of his fentences, both with refpect to propriety, and with refpect to cadence. All this gives fo much elegance and pomp to his language, that there is no wonder it fhould have been fometimes highly admired. It is greatly hurt, however, by perpetual ftiffness and affectation. This is its capital fault. His lordfhip can exprefs nothing with fimplicity. feems to have confidered it as vulgar, and beneath the dignity of a man of quality, to speak like He other men. Hence he is ever in bufkins; full of circumlocutions and artificial elegance. In every fentence, we see the marks of labour and art; nothing of that eafe, which expreffes a fentiment coming natural and warm from the heart. Of figures and ornament of every kind, he is exceedingly fond; fometimes hap-. py in them; but his fondness for them is too vifible; and having once laid hold of fome metaphor or allufion that pleafed him, he knows not how to part with it. What is most wonderful, he was a profeffed admirer of fimplicity; is always extolling it in the ancients, and cenfuring the moderns for the want of it; though he departs from it himself as far as any one modern whatever. Lord Shaftsbury poffeffed delicacy L and and refinement of tafte, to a degree that we may call exceffive and fickly; but he had little warmth of paffion; few ftrong or vigorous feelings: and the coldness of his character led him to that artificial and ftately manner which appears in his writings. He was. fonder of nothing than of wit and raillery; but he is far from being happy in it. He attempts it often, but always aukwardly; he is fliff, even in his pleafantry; and laughs in form, like an author, and not like a man *. From the account which I have given of Lord Shaftsbury's manner, it may easily be imagined, that he would mislead many who blindly admired him. Nothing is more dangerous to the tribe of imitators, than an author, who, with many impofing beauties, has alfo fome very confiderable blemishes. This is fully exemplified in Mr. Blackwell of Aberdeen, the author of the Life of Homer, the Letters on Mythology, and the Court of Auguftus; a writer of confiderable learning, and of ingenuity alfo; but infected with an extravagant love of an artificial ftyle, and of that parade of language which diftinguishes the Shaftsburean man ner. Having now faid fo much to recommend fimplicity, or the eafy and natural manner of writing, and having pointed out the de- It may perhaps be not unworthy of being mentioned, that the first edition of his Enquiry into Virtue was published, furreptitiously I believe, in a sepárate form, in the year 1699; and is sometimes to be met with; by comparing which, with the corrected edition of the same treatife, as it now ftands among his works, we fee one of the moft curious and useful examples that I know, of what is called Lima labor; the art of polishing language, breaking long fentences, and working up an imperfe& draught into a highly finished perform ance. the the effect produced. The one ne- is bold, rather than correct; a ver fails to intereft the reader; the other is infipid and tiresome. I proceed to mention one other manner or character of Style, different from any that I have yet fpoken of; which may be diftin. guished by the name of the Vehehement. This always implies ftrength; and is not, by any means, inconfiftent with Simplicity: but in its predominant character is diftinguishable from either the ftrong or the fimple manner. It has a peculiar ardour; it is a glowing Style; the language of a man, whofe imagination and paffions are heated, and ftrongly affected by what he writes; who is therefore negligent of leffer graces, but pours himself forth with the rapidity and fulness of a torrent. It belongs to the higher kinds of oratory; and indeed is rather expected from a man who is fpeaking, than from one who is writing in his clofet. The orations of Demofthenes furnish the full and perfect example of this fpecies of Style. Among English writers, the one who has moft of this character, though mixed, indeed, with feveral defects, is Lord Bolingbroke. Bolingbroke was formed by nature to be a factious leader; the demagogue of a popular affembly. Accordingly, the Style that runs through all his political writ. ings, is that of one declaiming with heat, rather than writing with deliberation. He abounds in Rhetorical Figures; and pours himself forth with great impetuofity. He is copious to a fault; places the fame thought before us in many different views; but generally with life and ardour. He torrent that flows ftrong, but often muddy. His fentences are varied as to length and shortness; inclining, however, moft to long periods, fometimes including parenthefes, and frequently crowding and heaping a multitude of things upon one another, as naturally happens in the warmth of fpeaking. In the choice of his words, there is great felicity and precision. In exact construction of fentences, he is much inferior to Lord Shaftfbery; but greatly fuperior to him in life and ease. Upon the whole, his merit, as a writer, would have been very confiderable, if his matter had equalled his Style. But whilft we find many things to commend in the latter, in the former, as I before remarked, we can hardly find any thing to commeud. In his reafonings, for most part, he is flimfy, and falfe; in his politieal writings, factious; in what he calls his philofophical ones, irreligious and fophiftical in the highest degree." thefe two claffes of writers, can not be other than vague and loofe, as they comprehend fo many, and of fuch differenr kinds and degrees of genius. But the comparifon is generally made to turn, by thofe who are fond of making it, upon two or three of the most diftinguifhed in each clafs. With much heat it was agitated in France, between Boileau and Mad. Dacier, on the one hand, for the Antients, and Perrault and La Motte, on the other, for the Moderns; and it was carried to extreams on both fides. To this day, among men of tafte, and letters, we find a leaning to one or other fide. A few reflections may throw light upon the fubject, and enable us to difcern upon what grounds we are to reft our judgment in this controverfy. If any one, at this day, in the eighteenth century, takes upon him to decry the acient claffics; if he pretends to have difcovered that Homer and Virgil are Poets of inconfiderable merit, and that Demofthenes and Cicero are not great Orators, we may boldly venture to tell fuch a man, that he is come too late with his difcovery. The reputation of fuch writers is established upon a foundation too folid, to be now fhaken by any arguments whatever; for it is eftab. lifhed upon the almoft univerfal tafte of mankind, proved and tried throughout the fucceffion of fo many ages. Imperfections in their works he may indeed point out; paffages that are faulty he may fhew; for where is the human work that is perfect? But, if he attempts to difcredit their works in general, or to prove that the reputation which they have gained is, on the whole, unjust, there is an argument againft him, which is equal to full demonftration. He must be in the wrong; for human nature is againft him. In matters of taste, fuch as Poetry and Oratory, to whom does the appeal lie? where is the ftandard? and where the authority of the laft decifion? where is it to be looked for, but, as I formerly fhewed, in thofe feelings and fentiments that are found, on the most extenfive examination, to be the common fentiments and feelings of men ? Thefe have been fully confulted on this head. The Public, the unprejudiced Public, has been tried and appealed to for many centuries, and throughout almoft all civilized nations. It has pronounced its verdict; it has given its fanction to thofe writers; and from this tribunal there lies no farther appeal. In matters of mere reasoning, the world may be long in an error; and may be convinced of the error by ftronger reafonings, when produced. Pofitions that depend apon fcience, upon knowledge, and matters of fact, may be overturned according as fcience and knowledge are enlarged, and new matters of fact are brought to light. For this reafon, a fyftem of Philofophy receives no fufficient fanction from its antiquity, or long currency. The world, as it grows older, may be justly expected to become, if not wifer, at leaft more knowing; and fuppofing it doubtful whether Ariftotle, or Newton, were the greater genius, yet Newton's Philofophy may prevail over Ariftotle's, by means of later difcoveries, which Ariftotle was a ftranger. to But But nothing of this kind holds as to matters of Talle; which depend not on the progrefs of know. ledge and science, but upon fentiment and feeling. It is in vain to think of undeceiving mankind, with respect to errors commited here, as in Philofophy. For the univerfal feeling of mankind is the natural feeling; and because it is the natural, it is, for that reason, the right feeling. The reputation of the Iliad and the Eneid must therefore ftand upon fure ground, because it has ftood fo long; though that of the Ariftotelian or Platonic philofophy, every one is at liberty to call in queftion, It is in vain alfo to alledge, that the reputation of the ancient Poets, and Orators, is owing to authority, to pedantry, and to the prejudices of education, tranfmitted from age to age. Thefe, it is true, are the authors put into our hands at schools and colleges, and by that means we have now an early prepoffeffion in their favour; but how came they to gain the poffeffion of colleges and fchools? Plainly, by the high fame which thefe authors had among their own cotemporaries. For the Greek and Latin were not always dead languages. There was a time, when Homer, and Virgil, and Horace, were view. ed in the fame light as we now view Dryden, Pope, and Addifon. It is not to commentators and univerfities, that the claffics are indebted for their fame. They be came claffics and fchool-books, in confequence of the high admira tion which was paid them by the From this general principle, then, of the reputation of great ancient claffics being fo early, fo lafting, fo univerfal, among all the most polished nations, we may juftly and boldly infer that their reputation cannot be wholly unjuft, but must have a folid foundation in the merit of their writings. Let us guard, however, again ft a blind and implicit veneration for the Ancients, in every thing. I have opened the general principle, which must go far in inftituting a fair comparison between them and the Moderns. Whatever fuperiority the Ancients may have had in point of genius, yet in all arts, where the natural progrefs of knowledge has had room to produce any confiderable effects, the Moderns cannot but have fome advantage. The world may, in certain refpects, be confidered as a perfon, who must needs gain fomewhat by advancing in years. Its improvements have not, I confefs, been always in proportion to the centuries that have paffed over it; for, during the courfe of fome ages, it has funk as into a total lethargy. Yet, when roufed from that lethargy, it has gene rally been able to avail itfelf, more * "Then thou art bound to fmell, on either hand, DRYDEN. |