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No. 282.] WEDNESDAY, JAN. 23, 1711-12. | passed their prime; and got on the wrong side of

Spes incerta futuri.—VIRG., Æn. viii, 580. Hopes and fears in equal balance laid.-DRYDEN. Ir is a lamentable thing that every man is full of complaints, and constantly uttering sentences against the fickleness of fortune, when people generally bring upon themselves all the calamities they fall into, and are constantly heaping up matter for their own sorrow and disappointment. That which produces the greatest part of the delusions of mankind, is a false hope which people indulge with so sanguine a flattery to themselves, that their hearts are bent upon fantastical advantages which they have no reason to believe should ever have arrived to them. By this unjust measure of calculating their happiness, they often mourn with real affliction for imaginary losses. When I am talking of this unhappy way of accounting for ourselves, I cannot but reflect upon a particular set of people, who in their own favor, resolve everything that is possible into what is probable, and then reckon on that probability as on what must certainly happen. Will Honeycomb, upon my observing his looking on a lady with some particular attention, gave me an account of the great distresses which had laid waste that very fine face, and had given an air of melancholy to a very agreeable person. That lady and a couple of sisters of hers, were, said Will, fourteen years ago, the greatest fortunes about town; but without having any loss, by bad tenants, by bad securities, or any damage by sea or land, are reduced to very narrow circumstances. They were at that time the most inaccessible, haughty beauties in town; and their pretensions to take upon them at that unmerciful rate, were raised upon the following scheme, according to which all their lovers were answered.

"Our father is a youngish man, but then our mother is somewhat older, and not likely to have any children: his estate being 8001. per annum, at twenty years' purchase, is worth 16,000l. Our uncle, who is above fifty, has 400l. per annum, which, at the aforesaid rate, is 8,000l. There is a widow aunt, who has 10,000l. at her own disposal, left by her husband, and an old maiden aunt who has 6,000l. Then our father's mother has 9007. per annum, which is worth 18,000l. and 1,000l. each of us has of our own, which cannot be taken from us. These summed up together stand thus: ...800..

"Father's

Uncle's

Aunts'.....

16,000 8,000

.400.

$10,000

{6,000

16,000

18,000 3,000

Grandmother's ....900.. Own 1,000 each.

Total.....61,000

This, equally divided between us three, amounts to 20,0001. each: an allowance being given for an enlargement upon common fame, we may lawfully pass for 30,000l. fortunes."

thirty; and must pass the remainder of their days, upbraiding mankind that they mind nothing but money, and bewailing that virtue, sense, and modesty, are had at present in no manner of estimation.

I mention this case of ladies before any other, because it is the most irreparable; for though youth is the time least capable of reflection, it is in that sex the only season in which they can advance their fortunes. But if we turn our thoughts to the men, we see such crowds unhappy, from no other reason than an ill-grounded hope, that it is hard to say which they rather deserve, our pity or contempt. It is not unpleasant to see a fellow, after growing old in attendance, and after having passed half a life in servitude, call himself the unhappiest of all men, and pretend to be disappointed, because a courtier broke his word. He that promises himself anything but what may naturally arise from his own property or labor, and goes beyond the desire of possessing above two parts in three even of that, lays up for himself an increasing heap of afflictions and disappointments. There are but two means in the world of gaining by other men, and these are by being either agreeable, or considerable. The generality of mankind do all things for their own sakes; and when you hope anything from persons above you, if you cannot say, "I can be thus agreeable, or thus serviceable," it is ridiculous to pretend to the dignity of being unfortunate when they leave you; you were injudicious in hoping for any other than to be neglected for such as can come within these descriptions of being capable to please or serve your patron, when his humor or interests call for their capacity either way.

It would not, methinks, be a useless comparison between the condition of a man who shuns all the pleasures of life, and of one who makes it his business to pursue them. Hope in the recluse makes his austerities comfortable, while the luxurious man gains nothing but uneasiness from his enjoyments. What is the difference in happiness of him who is macerated by abstinence, and his who is surfeited with excess? He who resigns the world has no temptation to envy, hatred, malice, anger, but is in constant possession of a serene mind; he who follows the pleasures of it, which are in their very nature disappointing, is in constant search of care, solicitude, remorse, and confusion.

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"I am a young woman, and have my fortune to make, for which reason I come constantly to church to hear divine service, and make conquests: but one great hinderance to my design is, that our clerk, who was once a gardener, has this Christmas so overdecked the church with greens, that he has quite spoiled my prospect; insomuch that I have searce seen the young baronet I dress at these three weeks, though we have both been very constant at our devotions, and do not sit above three pews off. The church, as it is now equipped, In prospect of this, and the knowledge of their looks more like a green-house than a place of worown personal merit, every one was contemptible ship. The middle aisle is a very pretty shady in their eyes, and they refused those offers which walk, and the pews look like so many arbors on had been frequently made them. But mark the each side of it. The pulpit itself has such clustend. The mother dies, the father is married again ers of ivy, holly, and rosemary, about it, that a and has a son; on him was entailed the father's, light fellow in our pew took occasion to say, that uncle's, and grandmother's estate. This cut off the congregation heard the word out of a bush, 42,000l. The maiden aunt married a tall Irish-like Moses. Sir Anthony Love's pew in particuman, and with her went the 6,000l. The widow lar is so well hedged, that all my batteries have died, and left but enough to pay her debts and no effect. I am obliged to shoot at random among bury her; so that there remained for these three the boughs, without taking any manner of aim. girls but their own 1,000l. They had by this time Mr. Spectator, unless you will give orders for

removing these greens, I shall grow a very awkward | creature at church, and soon have little else to do there but to say my prayers. I am in haste, dear Sir, your most obedient Servant, "JENNY SIMPER."

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LUCIAN rallies the philosophers in his time, who could not agree whether they should admit riches into the number of real goods; the professors of the severer sects threw them quite out, while others as resolutely inserted them.

I am apt to believe, that as the world grew more polite, the rigid doctrines of the first were wholly discarded; and I do not find any one so hardy at present as to deny that there are very great advantages in the enjoyment of a plentiful fortune. Indeed the best and wisest of men, though they may possibly despise a good part of those things which the world calls pleasures, can, I think, hardly be insensible of that weight and dignity which a moderate share of wealth adds to their characters, counsels, and actions.

We find it a general complaint in professions and trades, that the richest members of them are chiefly encouraged, and this is falsely imputed to the ill-nature of mankind, who are ever bestowing their favors on such as least want them. Whereas if we fairly consider their proceedings in this case, we shall find them founded on undoubted reason: since, supposing both equal in their natural integrity, I ought in common prudence, to fear foul play from an indigent person, rather than from one whose circumstances seem to have placed him above the bare temptation of money.

This reason also makes the commonwealth regard her richest subjects, as those who are most concerned for her quiet and interest, and consequently fittest to be intrusted with her highest employments. On the contrary, Catiline's saying to those men of desperate fortunes who applied themselves to him, and of whom he afterward composed his army, that they had nothing to hope for, but from a civil war, was too true not to make the impressions he desired.

I believe I need not fear but that what I have said in praise of money, will be more than sufficient with most of my readers to excuse the subject of my present paper, which I intend as an essay on the ways to raise a man's fortune, or the art of growing rich.

The first and most infallible method toward the attaining of this end is thrift. All men are not equally qualified for getting money, but it is in the power of every one alike to practice this virtue, and I believe there are very few persons who, if they please to reflect on their past lives, will not find that had they saved all those little sums which they have spent unnecessarily, they might at present have been masters of a competent fortune. Diligence justly claims the next place to thrift; I find both these excellently well recommended to common use in the three following Italian proverbs:

Never do that by proxy which you can do yourself,

Never defer that till to-morrow which you can do to-day, Never neglect small matters and expenses.

A third instrument of growing rich is method in business, which, as well as the two former, is also attainable by persons of the meanest capacities.

The famous De Witt, one of the greatest state men of the age in which he lived, being asked b a friend how he was able to dispatch that mal tude of affairs in which he was engaged? replie that his whole art consisted in doing one thing once. "If," says he, "I have any necessary patches to make, I think of nothing else un those are finished: if any domestic affairs requi my attention, I give myself up wholly to the until they are set in order."

In short, we often see men of dull and phle matic tempers arriving to great estates, by ma ing a regular and orderly disposition of their b siness, and that without it the greatest parts a most lively imaginations rather puzzle their fairs, than bring them to a happy issue.

From what has been said, I think I may lay down as a maxim, that every man of good co mon sense may, if he please, in his particul station of life, most certainly be rich. The reas why we sometimes see that men of the great capacities are not so, is either because they spise wealth in comparison of something els or at least are not content to be getting an esta unless they may do it in their own way, and the same time enjoy all the pleasures and grat cations of life.

But beside these ordinary forms of growi rich, it must be allowed that there is room genius as well in this as in all other circu stances of life.

Though the ways of getting money were lo since very numerous, and though so many ne ones have been found out of late years, there certainly still remaining so large a field for vention, that a man of an indifferent head mig easily sit down and draw up such a plan for conduct and support of his life, as was never y once thought of.

We daily see methods put in practice by hung and ingenious men, which demonstrate the рот of invention in this particular.

It is reported of Scaramouch, the first famo Italian comedian, that being at Paris and in gre want, he bethought himself of constantly plyi near the door of a noted perfumer in that ci and when any one came out who had been buyi snuff, never failed to desire a taste of them: wh he had by this means got together a quanti made up of several different sorts, he sold again at a lower rate to the same perfumer, wh finding out the trick, called it “Tabac de m fleurs," or, "Snuff of a thousand flowers." T story further tells us, that by this means he got very comfortable subsistence, until making t much haste to grow rich, he one day took such unreasonable pinch out of the box of a Swiss of cer, as engaged him in a quarrel, and obliged hi to quit this ingenious way of life.

Nor can I in this place omit doing justice to youth of my own country, who though he is scar yet twelve years old, has with great industry a application attained to the art of beating the g nadier's march on his chin. I am credibly i formed that by this means he does not only mai tain himself and his mother, but that he is layi up money every day, with a design, if the w continues, to purchase a drum at least, if not pair of colors.

I shall conclude these instances with the device the famous Rabelais, when he was at a great di tance from Paris, and without money to bear his e penses thither. The ingenious author being th sharp-set, got together a convenient quantity brick-dust, and having disposed of it into sever papers, wrote upon one, "Poison for monsieur upon a second, Poison for the dauphin," and

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a third, "Poison for the king." Having made this provision for the royal family of France, he laid his papers so that his landlord, who was an inquisitive man, and a good subject, might get a sight of them.

The plot succeeded as he desired. The host gave immediate intelligence to the secretary of state. The secretary presently sent down a special messenger, who brought up the traitor to court and provided him at the king's expense with proper accommodations on the road. As soon as he appeared, he was known to be the celebrated Rabelais, and his powder upon examination being found very innocent, the jest was only laughed at; for which a less eminent droll would have been sent to the galleys.

Trade and commerce might doubtless be still varied a thousand ways, out of which would arise such branches as have not yet been touched. The famous Doily is still fresh in every one's memory, who raised a fortune by finding out materials for such stuffs as might at once be cheap and genteel. I have heard it affirmed, that had not he discovered this frugal method of gratifying our pride, we should hardly have been able to carry on the last war.

I regard trade not only as highly advantageous to the commonwealth in general, but as the most natural and likely method of making a man's fortune: having observed, since my being a Spectator in the world, greater estates got about 'Change, than at Whitehall or St. James's. I believe I may also add, that the first acquisitions are generally attended with more satisfaction, and as good

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I must not, however, close this essay without observing, that what has been said is only intended for persons in the common ways of thriving, and is not designed for those men who from low beginnings push themselves up to the top of states, and the most considerable figures in life. My maxim of saving is not designed for such as these, since nothing is more usual than for thrift to disappoint the ends of ambition; it being almost impossible that the mind should be intent upon trifles, while it is at the same time forming some great design.

I may therefore compare these men to a great poet, who, as Longinus says, while he is full of the most magnificent ideas, is not always at leisure to mind the little beauties and niceties of

his art.

I would, however, have all my readers take great care how they mistake themselves for uncommon geniuses, and men above rule, since it is very easy for them to be deceived in this particular.-X.

No. 284.] FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 1711-12.

Posthabui tamen illorum mea seria ludo.*
VIRG., Ecl. vii, 17.
Their mirth to share, I bid my business wait.

never to think; there is something so solemn in reflection, they, forsooth, can never give themselves time for such a way of employing themselves. It happens often that this sort of man is heavy enough in his nature to be a good proficient in such matters as are attainable by industry; but, alas! he has such an ardent desire to be what he is not, to be too volatile, to have the faults of a person of spirit, that he professes himself the most unfit man living for any manner of application. When this humor enters into the head of a female, she generally professes sickness upon all occasions, and acts all things with an indisposed air. She is offended, but her mind is too lazy to raise her to anger, therefore she lives only as actuated by a violent spleen, and gentle scorn. She has hardly curiosity to listen to scandal of her acquaintance, and has never attention enough to hear them commended. This affectation in both sexes makes them vain of being useless, and take a certain pride in their insignificancy.

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Opposite to this folly is another no less unreasonable, and that is, the "impertinence of being always in a hurry.' There are those who visit ladies, and beg pardon, before they are well seated in their chairs, that they just called in, but are obliged to attend business of importance elsewhere the very next moment. Thus they run from place to place, professing that they are obliged to be still in another company than that which they are in. These persons who are just a-going somewhere else should never be detained; let all the world allow that business is to be minded, and their affairs will be at an end. Their vanity is to be importuned, and compliance with their multiplicity of affairs will effectually dispatch them. The traveling ladies, who have half the town to see in an afternoon, may be pardoned for being in a constant hurry; but it is inexcusable in men to come where they have no business, to profess they absent themselves where they have. It has been remarked by some nice observers and critics, that there is nothing discovers the true temper of a person so much as his letters. I have by me two epistles, which are written by two people of the different humors above-mentioned. It is wonderful that a man cannot observe upon himself when he sits down to write, but that he will gravely commit himself to paper the same man that he is in the freedom of conversation. I have hardly seen a line from any of these gentle men, but spoke them as absent from what they were doing, as they profess they are when they come into company. For the folly is, that they have persuaded themselves they really are busy. Thus their whole time is spent in suspense of the present moment to the next, and then from the next to the succeeding, which, to the end of life is to pass away with pretense to many things, and execution of nothing.

"SIR,

"The post is just going out, and I have many Ax unaffected behavior is without question a evening, but I could not omit making my compliother letters of very great importance to write this very great charm; but under the notion of being ments to you for your civilities to me when I was unconstrained and disengaged, people take upon last in town. It is my misfortune to be so full them to be unconcerned in any duty of life. A of business, that I cannot tell you a thousand general negligence is what they assume upon all things I have to say to you. I must desire you occasions, and set up for an aversion to all man- to communicate the contents of this to no one living: but believe me to be, with the greatest Sir, your most obedient, humble Servant, "STEPHEN COURIER.'

ner of business and attention. "I am the care

lessest creature in the world, I have certainly the worst memory of any man living," are frequent expressions in the mouth of a pretender of this sort. It is a professed maxim with these people

The motto of the original paper in folio was what is now the motto of No. 54. "Strenua nos exercet inertia."-HOR.

fidelity,

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MADAM,

"I hate writing, of all things in the world; how

ever, though I have drank the waters, and am | No. 285.] SATURDAY, JANUARY 26, 1711-12

told I ought not to use my eyes so much, I cannot forbear writing to you, to tell you I have been to the last degree hipped since I saw you. How could you entertain such a thought, as that I could hear of that silly fellow with patience? Take my word for it, there is nothing in it; and you may believe it when so lazy a creature as I am undergo the pains to assure you of it, by taking pen, ink, and paper in my hand. Forgive this; you know I shall not often offend in this

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Ne, quicunque Deus, quicunque adhibebitur heros,
Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro,
Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas;
Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inanis captet.
HOR., Ars. Poet., ver. 221.

But then they did not wrong themselves so much,
To make a god, a hero, or a king,
(Stript of his golden crown, and purple robe)
Descend to a mechanic dialect;

Nor (to avoid such meanness) soaring high,
With empty sound, and airy notions fly-RoscoMMUS.

HAVING already treated of the fable, the chara ters, and sentiments in Paradise Lost, we are the last place, to consider the language; and a the learned world is very much divided up Milton as to this point, I hope they will excu me if I appear particular in any of my opinion and incline to those who judge most advant geously of the author.

It is requisite that the language of a hero In proportion as either of these two qualities a poem should be both perspicuous and sublim wanting, the language is imperfect. Perspicui is the first and most necessary qualification; ins much that a good-natured reader sometimes ove looks a little slip even in the grammar or synta where it is impossible for him to mistake t poet's sense. Of this kind is that passage Milton, wherein he speaks of Satan:

and

-God and his Son except,

Created thing naught valu'd he nor shunn'd:
that in which he describes Adam and Eve:

Adam the goodliest man of men since born
His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
It is plain, that in the former of these passage
according to the natural syntax, the Divine Pe
sons mentioned in the first line are represented
created beings; and that, in the other, Adam an
Eve are confounded with their sons and daughter
Such little blemishes as these, when the thoug
is great and natural, we should, with Horace, in
pute to a pardonable inadvertency, or to the weal
ness of human nature, which cannot attend
each minute particular, and give the last finishin
to every circumstance in so long a work. Th
ancient critics, therefore, who were actuated by
spirit of candor, rather than that of caviling, in
vented certain figures of speech, on purpose
palliate little errors of this nature in the writing
of those authors who had so many greater beautie
to atone for them.

"I am clerk of the parish from whence Mrs. Simper sends her complaint, in your Spectator of Wednesday last. I must beg of you to publish this as a public admonition to the aforesaid Mrs. Simper, otherwise all my honest eare in the disposition of the greens in the church will have no effect; I shall therefore, with your leave, lay before you the whole matter. I was formerly, as she charges me, for several years a gardener in the county of Kent: but I most absolutely deny that it was out of any affection I retain for my old employment that I have placed my greens so liberally about the church, but out of a particular spleen I conceived against Mrs. Simper (and others of the same sisterhood) some time ago. As to herself, I had one day set the hundredth Psalm, and was singing the first line in order to put the congregation into the tune; she was all the while courtseying to Sir Anthony, in so affected and indecent a manner, that the indignation I conceived at it made me forget myself so far, as from the tune of that psalm to wander into Southwell tune, and from thence into Windsor tune, still unable to recover myself, until I had with the utmost confusion set a new one. Nay, I have often seen her rise up and smile, and courtsey to one at the lower end of the church in the midst of a Gloria Patri; and when I have spoken the assent to a prayer with a long Amen, uttered with decent gravity, she has been rolling her eyes round about in such a manner, as plainly showed, however she was moved, it was not toward a heavenly object. In fine, she extended her conquests so far over the males, and raised such If clearness and perspicuity were only to b envy in the females, that what between the love consulted, the poet would have nothing else to d of those, and the jealousy of these, I was almost but to clothe his thoughts in the most plain an the only person that looked in a prayer-book all natural expressions. But since it often happen church-time. I had several projects in my head that the most obvious phrases, and those whic to put a stop to this growing mischief; but as I are used in ordinary conversation, become to have long lived in Kent, and there often heard how familiar to the ear, and contract a kind of mean the Kentish men evaded the Conqueror, by carry-ness by passing through the mouths of the vulga ing green boughs over their heads, it put me in mind of practicing this device against Mrs. Simper. I find I have preserved many a young man from her eye-shot by this means: therefore humbly pray the boughs may be fixed, until she shall give security for her peaceable intentions.

T.

"Your humble Servant,

"FRANCIS STERNHOLD."

a poet should take particular care to guard him self against idiomatic ways of speaking. Ovi and Lucan have many poornesses of expressie upon this account, as taking up with the fir phrases that offered, without putting themselve to the trouble of looking after such as would no only have been natural, but also elevated and sublime. Milton has but few failings in this kind of which, however, you may meet with some in stances, as in the following passages:

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My head,-ill fare our ancestor impure,
For this we may thank Adam.-

The great masters in composition know very well that many an elegant phrase becomes improper for a poet or an orator, when it has been debased by common use. For this reason the works of ancient authors, which are written in dead languages, have a great advantage over those which are written in languages that are now spoken. Were there any mean phrases or idioms in Virgil or Homer, they would not shock the ear of the most delicate modern reader, so much as they would have done that of an old Greek or Roman, because we never hear them pronounced in our streets, or in ordinary conversation.

It is not therefore sufficient, that the language of an epic poem be perspicuous, unless it be also sublime. To this end it ought to deviate from the common forms and ordinary phrases of speech. The judgment of a poet very much discovers itself in shunning the common roads of expression, without falling into such ways of speech as may seem stiff and unnatural: he must not swell into a false sublime, by endeavoring to avoid the other extreme. Among the Greeks, Eschylus, and sometimes Sophocles, were guilty of this fault; among the Latins, Claudian and Statius; and among our own countrymen, Shakspeare and Lee. In these authors the affectation of greatness often hurts the perspicuity of the style, as in many others the endeavor after perspicuity prejudices its greatness.

Aristotle has observed, that the idiomatic style may be avoided, and the sublime formed, by the following methods. First, by the use of metaphors: such are those of Milton:

Imparadis'd in one another's arms.
-And in his hand a reed

Stood waving tipp'd with fire.-
The grassy clods now calv'd-
Spangled with eyes-

In these and innumerable other instances, the metaphors are very bold but just: I must however observe, that if the metaphors are not so thick sown in Milton, which always savors too much of wit, that they never clash with one another, which, as Aristotle observes, turns a sentence into a kind of enigma or riddle; and that he seldom has recourse to them where the proper and natural words will do as well.

Another way of raising the language, and giving it a poetical turn, is to make use of the idioms of other tongues. Virgil is full of the Greek forms of speech, which the critics call Hellenisms, as Horace in his odes abounds with them much more than Virgil. I need not mention the several dialects which Homer has made use of for this end. Milton, in conformity with the practice of the ancient poets, and with Aristotle's rule, has infused a great many Latinisms, as well as Græcisms, and sometimes Hebraisms, into the language of his poem; as toward the beginning of it:

Nor did they not perceive the evil plight

In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel.
Yet to their general's voice they soon obey'd-
-Who shall tempt with wandering feet
The dark unbottom'd infinite abyss,
And through the palpable obscure find out
His uncouth way, or spread his airy flight
Upborne with indefatigable wings
Over the vast abrupt?

So both ascend

In the visions of God.-BOOK II.

Under this head may be reckoned the placing the adjective after the substantive, the transposition of words, the turning the adjective into a substantive, with several other foreign modes of

speech which this poet has naturalized to give his verse the greater sound, and throw it out of prose.

The third method mentioned by Aristotle, is what agrees with the genius of the Greek language more than with that of any other tongue, and is therefore more used by Homer than by any other poet. I mean the lengthening of a phrase by the addition of words, which may either be inserted or omitted, as also by the extending or contracting of particular words by the insertion or omission of certain syllables. Milton has put in practice this method of raising his language, as far as the nature of our tongue will permit, as in the passage above-mentioned, eremite, for what is hermit in common discourse. If you observe the measure of his verse, he has with great judgment suppressed a syllable in several words, and shortened those of two syllables into one; by which method, beside the above-mentioned advantage, he has given a greater variety to his numbers. But this practice is more particularly remarkable in the names of persons and of countries, as Beelzebub, Hessebon, and in many other particulars, wherein he has either changed the name, or made use of that which is not the most commonly known, that he might the better deviate from the language of the vulgar.

The same reason recommended to him several old words; which also makes his poem appear the more venerable, and gives it a greater air of antiquity.

I must likewise take notice, that there are in Milton several words of his own coining, as "cerberean, miscreated, hell-doomed, embryon atoms," and many others. If the reader is offended at this liberty in our English poet, I would recommend to him a discourse in Plutarch, which shows us how frequently Homer has made use of the same liberty.

Milton, by the above-mentioned helps, and by the choice of the noblest words and phrases which our tongue would afford him, has carried our language to a greater height than any of the English poets have ever done before or after him, and made the sublimity of his style equal to that of his sentiments.

I have been the more particular in these observations on Milton's style, because it is in that part of him in which he appears the most singular. The remarks I have here made upon the practice of other poets, with my observations out of Aristotle, will perhaps alleviate the prejudice which some have taken to his poem upon this account; though after all I must confess that I think his style, though admirable in general, is in some places too much stiffened and obscured by the frequent use of those methods which Aristotle has prescribed for the raising of it.

This redundancy of those several ways of speech which Aristotle calls "foreign language," and with which Milton has so very much enriched, and in some places darkened, the language of his poem, was the more proper for his use, because his poem is written in blank verse. Rhyme, without any other assistance, throws the language off from prose, and very often makes an indifferent phrase pass unregarded; but where the verse is not built upon rhymes, there pomp of sound and energy of expression are indispensably necessary to support the style, and keep it from falling into the flatness of prose.

Those who have not a taste for this elevation of

style, and are apt to ridicule a poet when he departs from the common forms of expression, would do well to see how Aristotle has treated an ancient author called Euclid, for his insipid mirth

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