mit; perhaps with more than is perfectly suited to it. Stuart's philo sophical writings are composed with elegance and beauty.

536. DIALOGUE WRITING. Philosophical composition, when carried on in the way of dialogue and conversation, sometimes assumes a form, under which it mingles more with works of taste.

Obs. Under this form the ancients have given us some of their chief philosophical works; and several of the moderns have endeavoured to imitate them.

Mus. Dialogue writing may be executed in two ways, either as direct conversation, where none but the speakers appear, which is the method that Plato uses; or as the recital of a conversation, where the author himself appears, and gives an account of what passed in discourse; which is the method that Cicero generally follows. But though those different methods make some variation in the form, yet the nature of the composition is, in its elements, the same in both, and is therefore subject to the same laws.

537. A dialogue in one or other of these forms, on some philosophical, moral, or critical subject, when it is well conducted, stands in a high rank among the works of taste; but is much more difficult in the execution than is commonly imagined. For it requires more than merely the introduction of different persons speaking in succession.

Illus. 1. It ought to be a natural and spirited representation of real conversation; exhibiting the character and manners of the several speakers, and suiting to the character of each that peculiarity of thought and expression, which distinguishes him from another.

2. A dialogue, thus conducted, gives the reader a very agreeable entertainment; as by means of the debate going on among the personages, he receives a fair and full view of both sides of the argument; and is, at the same time, amused with polite conversation, and with a display of consistent and well-supported characters.

Corol. An author, therefore, who has genius for executing such a composition after this manner, has it in his power both to instruct and to please.

538. EPISTOLARY WRITING possesses a kind of middle place between the serious and amusing species of composition. Epistolary writing appears, at first view, to stretch into a very wide field. For there is no subject whatever, on which one may not convey his thoughts to the public, in the form of a letter.

Illus. For instance: Lord Shaftesbury, Mr. Harris, and several other writers, have chosen to give this form to philosophical treatises. But this is not sufficient to class such treatises under the head of epistolary composition. Though they bear, in the title-page, "a letter to a friend," after the first address, the friend disappears, and we see that it is, in truth, the public with whom the author corresponds. Seneca's Epistles are of this sort. There is no probability that they ever passed in correspondence as real letters. They are no other than miscellane

ous dissertations on moral subjects; which the author, for his convenience, chose to put into the epistolary form. Even where one writes a real letter on some formal topic, as of moral or religious consolation to a person under distress, such as Sir William Temple has written to the Countess of Essex on the death of her daughter, he is at liberty, on such an occasion, to write wholly as a divine or as a philosopher, and to assume the style and manner of either without reprehension. We consider the author not as writing a letter, but as composing a discourse, suited particularly to the circumstances of some one person. Russel's histories are in the form of letters.

539. Epistolary writing becomes a distinct species of composition, subject to the cognizance of criticism, only, or chiefly, when it is of the easy and familiar kind; when it is conversation carried on upon paper, between two friends at a dis

tance.

Пlus. 1. Such an intercourse, when well conducted, may be rendered very agreeable to readers of taste. If the subject of the letters be important, they will be the more valuable. Even though there should be nothing very considerable in the subject, yet if the spirit and turn of the correspondence be agreeable; if they be written in a sprightly manner, and with native grace and ease, they may still be entertaining; more especially if there be any thing to interest us, in the characters of those who write them.

2. Hence the curiosity which the public have always evinced, concerning the letters of eminent persons. We expect in them to discover something of their real character. It is childish indeed to expect, that in letters we are to find the whole heart of the author unveiled. Concealment and disguise take place, more or less, in all human intercourse.

3. But still, as letters from one friend to another make the nearest approach to conversation, we may expect to see more of a character displayed in these than in other productions, which are designed for public view. We are pleased with beholding the writer in a situation which allows him to be at his ease, and to give vent occasionally to the overflowings of his heart.

540. Much, therefore, of the merit, and the agreeableness of epistolary writing, will depend on its introducing us into some acquaintance with the writer. There, if any where, we look for the man, not for the author.

Illus. 1. Its first and fundamental requisite is, to be natural and simple; for a stiff and laboured manner is as bad in a letter, as it is in conversation. This does not banish sprightliness and wit. These are graceful in letters, just as they are in conversation; when they flow easily, and without being studied; when employed so as to season, not to cloy. One who, either in conversation or in letters, affects to shine and to sparkle always, will not please long.

2. The style of letters should not be too highly polished. It ought to be neat and correct, but no more. All nicety about words, betrays study; and hence musical periods, and appearances of number and harmony in arrangement, should be carefully avoided in letters.

3. The best letters are commonly such as the authors have written

with most facility. What the heart or the imagination dictates, always flows readily; but where there is no subject to warm or interest these, constraint appears; and hence, those letters of mere compliment, congratulation, or affected condolence, which have cost the authors most labour in composing, and which, for that reason, they perhaps consider as their master-pieces, never fail of being the most disagreeable and insipid to the readers.

4. It ought, at the same time, to be remembered, that the ease and simplicity which we have recommended in epistolary correspondence, are not to be understood as importing entire carelessness. In writing to the most intimate friend, a certain degree of attention, both to the subject and the style, is requisite and becoming. It is no more than what we owe both to ourselves, and to the friend with whom we correspond. A slovenly and negligent manner of writing, is a disobliging mark of want of respect. The liberty, besides, of writing letters with too careless a hand, is apt to betray us into imprudence in what we write.

5. The first requisite, both in conversation and correspondence, is to attend to all the proper decorums which our own character, and that of others, demand. An imprudent expression in conversation may be forgotten and pass away; but when we take the pen into our hand, we must remember, that "the word which hath been written remains."* Example 1. In our own times, several collections of letters have issued from the press. Among these, Franklin's correspondence holds a most distinguished place.

2. But of all the letters which this or any country hath produced, the most finished, perhaps, are those of Lord Chesterfield. Lady Montagu's Letters entitle her to rank among authors of a superior class.

3. The most distinguished collection of letters, however, in the English Language, is that of Pope, Dean Swift, and their friends; partly published in Pope's works, and partly in those of Dean Swift.

*"Litera scripta manet."

BOOK VII.

POETRY.

CHAPTER I.

THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF POETRY.

541. POETRY is the language of passion, or of enlivened imagination, formed, most commonly, into regular numbers.

542. The historian, the orator, and the philosopher, address themselves, for the most part, primarily to the understanding their direct aim is to inform, to persuade, or to instruct. But the primary aim of a poet is to please, and to move; and, therefore, it is to the imagination, and the passions, that he speaks.

Illus. 1. He may, and he ought to have it in his view, to instruct and to reform; but it is indirectly, and by pleasing and moving, that he accomplishes this end. His mind is supposed to be animated by some interesting object, which fires his imagination, or engages his passions; and which, of course, communicates to his style a peculiar elevation suited to his ideas; very different from that mode of expression, which is natural to the mind in its calm and ordinary state.

2. Yet, though versification be, in general, the exterior distinction of poetry, there are some forms of verse so loose and familiar, as to be hardly distinguishable from prose; such as the verse of Terence's comedies; and there is also a species of prose, so measured in its cadence, and so much raised in its tone, as to approach very near to poetical numbers; such as the Telemachus of Fenelon, and the English translation of Ossian. Dr. Johnson's Rasselas is perhaps of this class

too.

3. The truth is, verse and prose, on some occasions, run into one another, like light and shade. It is hardly possible to determine the exact limit where prose ends, and poetry begins; nor is there any occasion for being very precise about the boundaries, as long as the nature of each is understood.

543. The Greeks, ever fond of attributing to their own nation the invention of all sciences and arts, have ascribed the origin of poetry to Orpheus, Linus, and Musæus.

Obs. There were, perhaps, such persons as these, who were the first distinguished bards in the Grecian countries. But long before such names were heard of, and among nations where they were never known, poetry existed.

544. It has been often said, and the concurring voice of all antiquity affirms, that poetry is older than prose. But in what sense this seemingly strange paradox holds true, has not always been well understood. (See Art. 30. and Illus.)

Illus. 1. There never, certainly, was any period of society in which men conversed in poetical numbers. It was in very humble and scanty prose, as we may easily believe, that the first tribes carried on intercourse among themselves, relating to the necessities of life. But from the very beginning of society, there were occasions on which they met together for feasts, sacrifices, and public assemblies; and on all such occasions, it is well known, that music, song, and dance, constituted their principal entertainment.

2. It is chiefly in America, that we have had the opportunity of being made acquainted with men in their savage state. We learn from the particular and concurring accounts of travellers, that, among all the nations of that vast continent, especially among the northern tribes, with whom we have had most intercourse, music and song are, at all their meetings, carried on with an incredible degree of enthusiasm ; that the chiefs of the tribe are those who signalize themselves most on such occasions; that it is in songs they celebrate their religious rites; that by these they lament their public and private calamities, the death of friends, or the loss of warriors; express their joy on their victories; celebrate the great actions of their nation, and their heroes; excite each other to perform great exploits in war, or to suffer death and torments with unshaken constancy. (Art. 19. Illus. 1.)

Corol. Here then we see the first beginnings of poetic composition, in those rude effusions, which the enthusiasm of fancy or passion suggested to untaught men, when roused by interesting events, and by their meeting together in public assemblies.

545. Man, by nature, is both a poet and a musician. The same impulse which prompted the enthusiastic poetic style, prompted a certain melody, or modulation of sound, suited to the emotions of joy or grief, of admiration, love, or anger. There is a power in sound, which, partly from nature, partly from habit and association, makes such pathetic impressions on the fancy, as delight even the most wild barbarians.

Corol. Music and poetry, therefore, had the same rise; they were prompted by the same occasions; they were united in song; and, as long as they continued united, they tended, without doubt, mutually to heighten and exalt each other's power.

546. The first poets sung their own verses: and hence the beginning of what we call versification, or words arranged in a more artful order than prose, so as to be suited to some tune or melody.

Illus. The liberty of transposition, or inversion, which the poetic