The Spectator, Volume 2.
his Auction o
to foot
2: able
tu
3: descen
tu
nt
ents
.
, Januar
di
en illorum me
rg
e People never to think; there is something so solemn in Reflexion, 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
r Vanity is to be importuned, and Compliance with their Multiplicity of Affairs would effectually dispatch 'em. The Travelling Ladies, who have half the Town to see in an Afternoon, may be pardoned for being in 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 Criticks, 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 Humours above-mentioned. It is wonderful that a Man
ents to you for your Civilities to me when I was last in Town. It is my Misfortune to be so full of Business, that I cannot tell you a Thousand Thing
i
ost Ob
e Ser
en Co
da
t Degree hipped since I saw you. How could you entertain such a Thought, as that I should hear of that silly Fellow with Patience? Take my Word for it, there is nothing in it; and you may believe it w
t Eith
r'ythee send me Word how ever wh
24,
Spec
Hundredth Psalm, and was singing the first Line in order to put the Congregation into the Tune, she was all the while curtsying to Sir Anthony in so affected and indecent a manner, that the Indignation I conceived at it made me forget my self so far, as from the Tune of that Psalm to wander into Southwell Tune, and from thence into Windsor Tune, still unable to recover my self till I had with the utmost Confusion set a new one. Nay, I have often seen her rise up and smile and curtsy to one at the lower End of the Church in the midst of a Gloria Patri; and when I have spoke the Assent to a Prayer with a long Amen uttered with decent Gravity, she has been rolling her Eyes around about in such a Manner, as plainly shewed, however she
umble
s Ster
tno
os exerce
o
to foot
ote 2
tu
nt
ents
.
, Januar
di
us, quicunque ad
ctus in auro
uras humili se
humum, nubes et
o
onsider the Language; and as the Learned World is very much divided upon Milton as to this Point, I hope they will excu
e Language is imperfect. Perspicuity is the first and most necessary Qualification; insomuch that a good-natur'd Reader sometimes overlooks a little Slip e
his Son
nought valu'd
ich he describ
liest Man of
fairest of her
as these, when the Thought is great and natural, we should, with Horace2 impute to a pardonable Inadvertency, or to the Weakness of human Nature, which cannot attend to each minute Particular, and give the last Finishing to every Circumstance in so long a Work. The An
oo familiar to the Ear, and contract a kind of Meanness by passing through the Mouths of the Vulgar, a Poet should take particular Care to guard himself against Idiomatick Ways of Speaking. Ovid and Lucan have many Poornesses of Expression upon this Account, as taking up with the f
diots, Eremit
d Grey,-with all
ilgrim
discourse
Dinner cool;-
Au
es to succeed
im brought by
fare our An
we may th
hors, 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 and Homer, they would
e 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 endeavouring to avoid the other Extream. Among the Greeks, ?schylus, and sometimes Sophocles, were guilty of this
atick Stile may be avoided, and the Su
f Metaphors : Such
in one ano
his Ha
ing tipt
e Clods no
ed wit
ick sown in Milton which always savours too much of Wit; that they never clash with one another, which, as Aristotle observes, turns a
sms, 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 o
not perceive
re, or the fierc
n'ral's Voice t
empt with wa
bottom'd In
he palpable O
y, or spread h
h indefati
e vast
oth a
ions of Go
n of Words, the turning the Adjective into a Substantive, with several other Foreign Modes of Spe
rtain 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 shortned those of two Syllables into one, by which Method, besi
rds, which also makes his Poem appear the more ve
Hell-doom'd, Embryon Atoms, and many others. If the Reader is offended at this Liberty in our English Poet, I woul
ngue would afford him, has carried our Language to a greater Height than any of the English Poets hav
ice of other Poets, with my Observations out of Aristotle, will perhaps alleviate the Prejudice which some have taken to his Poem upon this Account; tho' after all, I must confess that I
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 unregar
the common Forms of Expression, would do well to see how Aristotle has treated an Ancient Author called Eucl
e other Innovation in the Measure of his Verse, has varied his Numbers in such a manner, as makes them incapable of satiating the Ear, and cloying the Reader, which the same uniform Measure would certainly have done, and which the perpetual Returns of Rhime never fail to d