weakness, or rather the corruption of human understanding, this very delicacy and elegance, which the good tafte of literature and eloquence ufually introduces into common life, for buildings, for instance, and entertainments, coming by little and little to degenerate into excefs and luxury, introduces in its turn the bad tafte in literature and eloquence. This Seneca informs us, in a very ingenious manner, in one of his epiftles, where he feems to have drawn a good defcription of himfelf, though he did not perceive it.

One of his friends had afked him, whence the alteration could poffibly arise which was fometimes obfervable in eloquence, and which carried moft people into certain general faults; fuch as the affectation of bold and extravagant figures, metaphors ftruck off without measure or caution, fentences fo fhort and abrupt, that they left people rather to guess what they meant, than conveyed a meaning.

Seneca anfwers this question by a common proverb among the Greeks; "As is their life, fo is their discourse," Talis homiribus fuit oratio, qualis vita. As a private perfon lets us into his character by his difcourfe, fo the reigning ftyle is oft an image of the public manners. The heart carries the understanding away with it, and communicates its vices to it, as well as its virtues. When men ftrive to be diftinguifhed from the reft of the world by novelty, and refinement in their furniture, buildings, and entertainments, and a studious fearch after every thing that is not in common ufe; the fame talle will prevail in eloquence, and introduce novelty and irregularity there. When the mind is once accustomed to despise rules in manners, it will not follow them in ftyle. Nothing will then go down but what ftrikes by its being new and glaring, extraordinary and affected. Trifling and childish thoughts will take place of fuch as are bold and overftrained to an excefs. We shall affect a fleck and florid ftyle, and an elocution pompous indeed, but with little more than mere found in it.

And this fort of faults is generally the effect of a fingle man's example, who, having gained reputation enough to be followed by the multitude, fets up for a mafter, and gives the ftrain to others. 'Tis thought honourable to imitate him, to obferve and copy after him, and his style becomes the rule and model of the public

alte.

As then luxury in diet and drefs is a plain indication that the manners are not under fo good a regulation as they fhould be; fo a licentioufnefs of ftyle, when it becomes public and general, fhews evidently a depravation and corruption of the underftandings of mankind.

To remedy this evil, and reform the thoughts and expreffions used in ftyle, it will be requifite to cleanfe the fpring from whence they proceed. 'Tis the mind that must be cured. When that is found and vigorous, eloquence will be fo too; but it becomes feeble and languid when the mind is enfeebled and enervated by pleasures and delights. In a word, it is the mind which prefides, and directs, and gives motion to the whole, and all the reft follows its impreflions.

He has obferved elsewhere, that a style too ftudied and far-fetched is a mark of a little genius. He would have an orator, efpecially when upon a grave and serious fubject, be lefs curious about words, and the manner of placing them, than of his matter, and the choice of his thoughts. When you fee a difcourfe laboured and polished with fo much carefulness and study, you may conclude, fays he, that it comes from a mean capacity, that bufies itself in trifles. A writer of great genius will not ftand for fuch minute things. He thinks and speaks with more nobleness and grandeur, and we may difcern, in all he says, a certain eafy and natural air, which argues a man of real riches, who does not endeavour to appear fo. He then compares this florid prinked eloquence to young people curled out and powdered, and continually before their glafs and the toilet: Barba et coma nitidos, de capfula totos. Nothing great and folid can be expected from fuch characters. So alfo with orators. The difcourfe is in a manner the vifage of the mind. If it is decked out, tricked up, and painted, it is a fign there is fome defect in the mind, and all is not found within. So much finery, difplayed with such art and study, is not the proper ornament of eloquence. Non eft ornamentum virile, concinnitas.

Who would not think, upon hearing Seneca talk thus, that he was a declared enemy of bad taste, and that no one was more capable of oppofing and preventing it than he? And yet it was he, more than any other, that contributed to the depra vation of tafte, and corruption of eloquence. I fhall take an occafion to fpeak upon this fubject in another place, and shall do it

the

the more freely, as there is caufe to fear left the bad tafte for bright thoughts, and turns of expreffion, which is properly the character of Seneca, fhould prevail in our own age. And I question whether this be not a mark and prefage of the ruin of eloquence we are threatened with, as the immoderate luxury that now reigns more than ever, and the almoft general decay of good manners, are perhaps alfo the fatal harbingers of it.

One fingle perfon of reputation fometimes, as Seneca obferves, and he himself is an inftance of it, who by his eminent qualifications fhall have acquired the esteem of the public, may fuffice to introduce this bad taste, and corrupt ftyle. Whilft moved by a fecret ambition, a man of this character ftrives to diftinguish himself from the rest of the orators and writers of his age, and to open a new path, where he thinks it better to march alone at the head of his new difciples, than follow at the heels of the old masters; whilft he prefers the reputation of wit to that of folidity, pursues what is bright rather than what is folid, and fets the marvellous above the natural and true; whilft he chooses rather to apply to the fancy than to the judgment, to dazzle reason than convince it, to furprise the hearer into an approbation, rather than deferve it; and by a kind of delufion and soft enchantment carry off the admiration and applaufes of fuperficial minds (and fuch the multitude always are), other writers, feduced by the charms of novelty, and the hopes of a like fuccefs, will fuffer themfelves infenfibly to be hurried down the ftream, and add ftrength to it by following it. And thus the old tafte, though better in itfelf, fhall give way to the new one without redrefs, which shall presently affume the force of a law, and draw a whole nation after it.

This should awaken the diligence of the mafters in the univerfity, to prevent and hinder, as much as in them lies, the ruin of good tafte; and as they are entrufted with the public inftruction of youth, they fhould look upon this care as an effential part of their duty. The custom, manners, and laws of the ancients have changed; they are often oppofite to our way of life, and the ufages that prevail amongst us; and the knowledge of them may be therefore lefs neceffary for us. Their actions are gone and cannot return; great events have had their courfe, without any rea

fon left for us to expect the like; and the revolutions of ftates and empires have perhaps very little relation to their prefent fituation and wants, and therefore become of lefs concern to us. But good tafte, which is grounded upon immutable principles, is always the fame in every age; and it is the principal advantage that young perfons fhould be taught to obtain from reading of ancient authors, who have ever been looked upon with reafon as the masters, depofitories, and guardians of found cloquence and good tafte. In fine, of all that may anywife contribute to the cultivating the mind, we may truly fay this is the moft effential part, and what ought to be preferred before all others.

This good tafte is not confined to literature; it takes in alfo, as we have already fuggefted, all arts and sciences, and branches of knowledge. It confifts therefore in a certain juft and exact difcernment, which points out to us, in each of the fciences and branches of knowledge, whatever is moft curious, beautiful, and ufeful, whatever is most effential, faitable, or neceffary to thofe who apply to it; how far confequently we should carry the ftudy of it; what ought to be removed from it; what deferves a particular application and preference before the reft. For want of this difcernment, a man may fall short of the most effential part of his profeffion, without perceiving it: nor is the cafe fo rare as one might imagine. An instance taken from the Cyropadia of Xenophon will fet the matter in a clear light.

The young Cyrus, fon of Cambyfes King of Perfia, had long been under the tuition of a mafter in the art of war, who was without doubt a perfon of the greatest abilities and beft reputation in his time. One day, as Cambyfes was dif courfing with his fon, he took occafion to mention his mafter, whom the Prince had in great veneration, and from young whom he pretended he had learnt in general whatever was neceffary for the command of an army. Has your mafter, fays Cambyfes, given you any lectures of economy; that is, has he taught you how to provide your troops with neceffaries, to fupply them with provifions, to prevent the distempers that are incident to them, to cure them when they are fick, to ftrengthen their bodies by frequent exercife, to raife emulation among them, how to make yourself obeyed, efteemed, and beloved by them? Upon

all

all these points, anfwered Cyrus, and feveral others the King ran over to him, he has not spoke one word, and they are all new to me. And what has he taught you then? To exercise my arms, replies the young Prince, to ride, to draw the bow, to caft a fpear, to form a camp, to draw the plan of a fortification, to range my troops in order of battle, to make a review, to fee that they march, file off, and encamp. Cambyfes fmiled, and let his fon fee, that he had learnt nothing of what was most effential to the making of a good officer, and an able general; and taught him far more in one converfation, which certainly deferves well to be ftudied by young gentlemen that are defigned for the army, than his famous master had done in many years.

Every profeffion is liable to the fame inconvenience, either from our not being fufficiently attentive to the principal end we fhould have in view in our applications to it, or from taking cuftom for our guide, and blindly following the footsteps of others, who have gone before us. There is nothing more useful than the knowledge of hiftory. But if we reft fatisfied in loading our memory with a multitude of facts of no great curiofity or importance, if we dwell only upon dates and difficulties in chronology or geography, and take no pains to get acquainted with the genius, manners, and characters of the great men we read of, we fhall have learnt a great deal, and know but very little. A treatife of rhetoric may be extenfive, enter into a long detail of precept, define very exactly every trope and figure, explain well their differences, and largely treat fuch queftions as were warmly debated by the rhetoricians of old; and with all this be very like that difcourfe of rhetoric Tully fpeaks of, which was only fit to teach people not to speak at all, or not to the purpofe. Scripfit artem rhetoricam Cleanthes, fed fic, ut, fi quis obmutefcere concupierit, nihil aliud legere debeat. In philofophy one might fpend abundance of time in knotty and abftrufe difputes, and even learn a great many fine and curious things, and at the fame time neglect the effential part of the ftudy, which is to form the judgment and direct

the manners.

In a word, the most neceffary qualification, not only in the art of speaking and the fciences, but in the whole conduct of our life, is that tafte, prudence, and difcretion, which upon all fubjects and on every

occafion teaches us what we should do, and how to do it. Illud dicere fatis habeo, nihil effe, non modo in orando, fed in omni vita, prius confilio. Rollin.

$233. DR. JOHNSON's Preface to bis Edition of SHAKESPEARE.

That praifes are without reafon lavished on the dead, and that the honours due only to excellence are paid to antiquity, is a complaint likely to be always continued by thofe, who, being able to add nothing to truth, hope for eminence from the herefies of paradox; or thofe, who, being. forced by difappointment upon confolatory expedients, are willing to hope from pofterity what the prefent age refuses, and flatter themfelves that the regard, which is yet denied by envy, will be at laft be ftowed by time.

Antiquity, like every other quality that attracts the notice of mankind, has undoubtedly votaries that reverence it, not from reafon, but from prejudice. Some feem to admire indifcriminately whatever has been long preferved, without confidering that time has fometimes co-operated with chance; all perhaps are more willing to honour paft than prefent excellence; and the mind contemplates genius through the fhade of age, as the eye furveys, the fun through artificial opacity. The great contention of criticifm is to find the faults of the moderns, and the beauties of the ancients. While an author is yet living, we eftimate his powers by his worst performance; and when he is dead, we rate them by his best.

To works, however, of which the excellence is not abfolute and definite, but gradual and comparative; to works not raifed upon principles demonftrative and fcientinc, but appealing wholly to obfervation and experience, no other teft can be applied than length of duration and con tinuance of efteem. What mankind have long poffeffed they have often examined and.compared; and if they perfift to value the poffeffion, it is becaufe frequent comparifons have confirmed opinion in its favour. As among the works of nature no man can properly call a river deep, or a mountain high, without the knowledge of many mountains, and many rivers; fɔ, in the productions of genius, nothing can be ftyled excellent till it has been com pared with other works of the fame kind: Demonftration immediately difplays its power, and has nothing to hope or fear

from

from the flux of years; but works tentative and experimental mutt be estimated by their proportion to the general and collective ability of man, as it is difcovered in a long fucceflion of endeavours. Of the first building that was raifed, it might be with certainty determined, that it was round or fquare; but whether it was fpacious or lofty must have been referred to time. The Pythagorean fcale of numbers was at once difcovered to be perfect: but the poems of Homer we yet know not to tranfcend the common limits of human intelligence, but by remarking, that nation after nation, and century after century, has been able to do little more than tranfpofe his incidents, new name his characters, and paraphrafe his fentiments.

The reverence due to writings that have long fubfifted, arifes, therefore, not from any credulous confidence in the fuperior wifdom of paft ages, or gloomy perfuafion of the degeneracy of mankind, but is the confequence of acknowledged and indubitable pofitions, that what has been longeft known has been moft confidered, and what is most considered is best understood.

The poet, of whofe works I have undertaken the revision, may now begin to affume the dignity of an ancient, and claim the privilege of eftablished fame and prefcriptive veneration. He has long outlived his century, the term commonly fixed as the teft of literary merit. Whatever advantages he might once derive from perfonal allufion, local cuftoms, or temporary opinions, have for many years been lost; and every topic of merriment, or motive of forrow, which the modes of artificial life afforded him, now only obfcure the scenes which they once illuminated. The effects of favour and competition are at an end; the tradition of his friendships and his enemies has perished; his works fupport no opinion with arguments, nor fupply any faction with invectives; they can neither indulge vanity, nor gratify malignity; but are read without any other reafon than the defire of pleasure, and are therefore praifed only as pleasure is obtained yet, thus unaffifted by intereft or paffions they have paft through variations of tafte and change of manners, and, as they devolved from one generation to another, have received new honours at every tranfmiffion.

But because human judgment, though it be gradually gaining upon certainty, never becomes infallible; and approbation, though long continued, may yet be only

2

the approbation of prejudice or fashion; it is proper to inquire, by what peculiarities of excellence Shakespeare has gained and kept the favour of his countrymen.

Nothing can please many, and please long, but juft reprefentations of general nature. Particular manners can be known to few, and therefore few only can judge how nearly they are copied. The irregular combinations of fanciful invention may delight awhile, by that novelty of which the common fatiety of life fends us all in queft; but the pleafures of fudden wonder are foon exhaufted, and the mind can only repofe on the ftability of truth.

Shakespeare is, above all writers, at leaft above all modern writers, the poet of nature; the poet that holds up to his readers a faithful mirror of manners and of life. His characters are not modified by the cuftoms of particular places, unpractifed by the reft of the world; by the peculiarities of ftudies or profeffions, which can operate but upon fmall numbers; or by the accidents of tranfient fashions or temporary opinions: they are the genuine progeny of common humanity, fuch as the world will always fupply, and obfervation will always find. His perfons act and fpeak by the influence of thofe general paffions and principles by which all minds are agitated, and the whole fyftem of life is continued in motion. In the writings of other poets a character is too often an individual; in thofe of Shakespeare it is commonly a species.,

It is from this wide extenfion of defign that fo much inftruction is derived. It is this which fills the plays of Shakespeare with practical axioms and domeftic wifdom. It was faid of Euripides, that every verfe was a precept; and it may be faid of Shakespeare, that from his works may be collected a fyftem of civil and œconomical prudence. Yet his real power is not fhewn in the fplendor of particular paffages, but by the progrefs of his fable, and the tenor of his dialogue; and he that tries to recommend him by felect quotations, will fucceed like the pedant in Hierocles, who, when he offered his houfe to fale, carried a brick in his pocket as a specimen.

It will not eafily be imagined how much Shakespeare excels in acommodating hist fentiments to real life, but by comparing him with other authors. It was obferved of the ancient fchools of declamation, that the more diligently they were frequented, the more was the ftudent difqualified for the world, because he found nothing there

which

which he should ever meet in any other place. The fame remark may be applied to every ftage but that of Shakespeare. The theatre, when it is under any other direction, is peopled by fuch characters as were never feen, converfing in a language which was never heard, upon topics which will never arife in the commerce of mankind. But the dialogue of this author is often fo evidently determined by the inc'dent which produces it, and is purfued with fo much eafe and fimplicity, that it feems fcarcely to claim the merit of fiction, but to have been gleaned by diligent felection out of common converfation and

common occurrences.

Upon every other ftage the univerfal agent is love, by whofe power all good and evil is diftributed, and every action quickend or retarded. To bring a lover, a la ly, and a rival into the fable; to entangle them in contradictory obligations, perplex them with oppofitions of intereft, and harrafs them with violence of defires inconfiftent with each other; to make them meet in rapture, and part in agony; to fill their mouths with hyperbolical joy and outrageous forrow; to diftrefs them as nothing human ever was distressed; to deliver them as nothing human ever was delivered; is the bufinefs of a modern dramatist. For this, probability is violated, life is mifreprefented, and language is depraved. But love is only one of many paflions; and as it has no greater influence upon the fum of life, it has little operation in the dramas of a poet, who caught his ideas from the living world, and exhibited only what he faw before him. He knew that any other paffion, as it was regular or exorbitant, was a caufe of happinefs or calamity.

Characters, thus ample and general, were not eafily difcriminated and preferved; yet perhaps no poet ever kept his perfonages more diftinct from each other. I will not fay with Pope, that every fpeech may be affigned to the proper fpeaker, becaule many fpeeches there are which have nothing characteristical; but, perhaps, though fome may be equally adapted to every perfon, it will be difficult to find any that can be properly transferred from the prefent poffeffor to another claimant. The choice is right, when there is reafon for

choice.

Other dramatists can only gain attention by hyperbolical or aggravated characters, by fabulous and unexampled excellence or depravity, as the writers of barbarous ro

mances invigorated the reader by a giant and a dwarf; and he that should form his expectations of human affairs from the play, or from the tale, would be equally deceived. Shakespeare has no heroes; his fcenes are occupied only by men, who act and fpeak as the reader thinks that he fhould himself have fpoken or acted on the fame occafion: even where the agency is fupernatural, the dialogue is level with life. Other writers difguife the most natural paffions and most frequent incidents; fo that he who contemplates them in the book will not know them in the world: Shakefpeare approximates the remote, and familiarizes the wonderful; the event which he reprefents will not happen; but, if it were poflible, its effects would probably be fuch as he has affigned; and it may be said, that he has not only fhewn human nature as it acts in real exigencies, but as it would be found in trials, to which it cannot be expofed.

This therefore is the praife of Shakefpeare, that his drama is the mirror of life; that he who has mazed his imagination, in following the phantoms which other writers raife up before him, may here be cured of his delirious ecftacies, by reading human fentiments in human language, by fcenes from which a hermit may citimate the tranfactions of the world, and a confeffor predict the progress of the paffions.

His adherence to general nature has expofed him to the cenfure of criticks, who form their judgments upon narrower principles. Dennis and Rymer think his Romans not fufficiently Roman; and Voltaire cenfures his kings as not completely royal. Dennis is offended, that Menenius, a fenator of Rome, fhould play the buffoon; and Voltaire perhaps thinks decency violated when the Danish ufurper is reprefented as a drunkard. But Shakespeare always makes nature predominate over accident; and if he preferves the effential character, is not very careful of distinctions fuperinduced and adventitious. His ftory requires Romans or Kings, but he think only on men. He knew that Rome, like every other city, had men of all difpofitions; and wanting a buffoon, he went into the fenate-houfe for that which the fenatehoufe would certainly have afforded him. He was inclined to fhew an ufurper and a murderer not only odious, but defpicable; he therefore added drunkenness to his other qualities, knowing that kings love wine