quy is upon an important subject that makes a strong impression, but without much agitation. For if it be at all excusable to think aloud, it is necessary that the language with the reasoning be carried on in a chain without a broken link. In this view that admirable foliloquy in Hamlet upon life and immortality, being a ferene meditation upon the most interesting of all subjects, ought to escape cenfure. And the same confideration will justify the soliloquy that introduces the 5th act of Addison's Cato.

The next class of the grosser errors which all writers ought to avoid, shall be of language elevated above the tone of the sentiment; of which take the following instan

ces.

Zara. Swift as occafion, I

Myself will fly; and earlier than the morn
Wake thee to freedom. Now 'tis late; and yet

Some news few minutes past arriv'd, which seem'd

:

To shake the temper of the King

Who knows

What racking cares disease a monarch's bed?
Or love, that late at night still lights his lamp,

And strikes his rays through dusk, and folded lids,

Forbidding

Forbidding rest, may stretch his eyes awake,
And force their balls abroad at this dead hour,
I'll try.

Mourning Bride, act 3. Sc. 4.

The language here is undoubtedly too pompous and laboured for defcribing so simple a circumstance as abfence of fleep. In the following passage, the tone of the language, warm and plaintive, is well suited to the paffion, which is recent grief. But every one will be sensible, that in the last couplet save one, the tone is changed, and the mind suddenly elevated to be let fall as suddenly in the last couplet.

:

Il déteste à jamais sa coupable victoire,
Il renonce à la cour, aux humains, à la gloire;
Et se fuïant lui-même, au milieu des deferts,
Il va cacher sa peine au bout de l'univers;
La, soit que le soleil rendît le jour au monde,
Soit qu'il finît sa course au vaste sein de l'onde,
Sa voix faisoit redire aux echos attendris,
Le nom, le triste nom, de son malheureux fils.

for the gravity, dignity, or importance, of the occafion, may be put in a third class.

Chimene demanding justice against Rodrigue who killed her father, instead of a plain and pathetic expostulation, makes a speech stuffed with the most artificial flowers of rhetoric:

Sire, mon pere est mort, mes yeux ont vû son sang
Couler à gros bouillons de son généreux flanc;
Ce fang qui tant de fois garantit vos murailles,
Ce sang qui tant de fois vous gagna des batailles,
Ce sang qui, tout forti fume encore de courroux
De se voir répandu pour d'autres que pour vous,
Qu'au milieu des hazards n'osoit verser la guerre,
Rodrigue en votre cour vient d'en couvrir la terre.
J'ai couru fur le lieu sans force, et sans couleur;
Je l'ai trouvé sans vie. Excusez ma douleur,
Sire; la voix me manque à ce récit funeste,
Mes pleurs et mes soupirs vous diront mieux le

refte.

And again:

Son flanc etoit ouvert, et, pour mieux m'emouvoir, Son fang fur la poussiére écrivoit mon devoire;

Ou plûtôt sa valeur en cet état réduite

Me parloit par sa plaie, et hâtoit ma pursuite,

Et

Et pour se faire entendre au plus juste des Rois,
Par cette triste bouche elle empruntoit ma voix.

Act 2. fc. 9.

Nothing can be contrived in language more averse to the tone of the passion than this florid speech. I should imagine it more apt to provoke laughter than to inspire concern or pity.

In a fourth class shall be given specimens of language too light or airy for a fevere paffion.

The agony a mother must feel upon the savage murder of two hopeful fons, rejects all imagery and figurative expression, as difcordant in the highest degree. Therefore the following passage is undoubtedly in a bad taste :

Queen. Ah, my poor princes! ah, my tender babes,

My unblown flow'rs, new-appearing sweets!
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air,
And be not fixt in doom perpetual,

Hover about me with your airy wings,

And hear your mother's lamentation.

Richard III. aft 4. Sc. 4..

Again,

K. Philip. You are as fond of grief as of your

child.

Constance. Grief fills the room up of my absent
child,

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garment with his form;
Then have I reason to be fond of grief.

King John, act 3. sc. 6.

A thought that turns upon the expression instead of the subject, commonly called a play of words, being low and childish, is unworthy of any composition, whether gay or ferious, that pretends to the smallest share of dignity. Thoughts of this kind make a fifth class.

In the Aminta of Tasso * the lover falls into a mere play of words, demanding how

* Act 1. fc. 2.

he