{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59710/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59710","id":"gutenberg_59710","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59710","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Composers -- Great Britain -- Correspondence","Jackson, William, 1730-1803 -- Correspondence","Poets, English -- 18th century -- Correspondence"],"text":"Produced by Sonya Schermann, Robert Tonsing, and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This\nfile was produced from images generously made available\nby The Internet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                                THIRTY\n                                LETTERS\n                                  ON\n                           VARIOUS SUBJECTS.\n                            IN TWO VOLUMES.\n                                VOL. I.\n\n                   *       *       *       *       *\n\n                                LONDON:\n\n          Printed for T. CADELL, and T. EVANS, in the Strand;\n                   and B. THORN and SON, in EXETER.\n\n                             MDCCLXXXIII.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS\n                                OF THE\n                             FIRST VOLUME.\n\n                   *       *       *       *       *\n\n    LETTER                                                     PAGE\n\n    I.     _The Force of Custom_                                  1\n\n    II.    _On Riches, Cards, and Duelling_                       5\n\n    III.   _On Languages_                                        16\n\n    IV.    _On judging by the Perceptions of others_             29\n\n    V.     _On Painting_                                         32\n\n    VI.    _On Painting_                                         39\n\n    VII.   _On temporary Taste_                                  46\n\n    VIII.  _On musical Expression_                               49\n\n    IX.    _On the Parenthesis, and Anticipation_                56\n\n    X.     _On Catches_                                          63\n\n    XI.    _On the English Language_                             78\n\n    XII.   _On Homer\u2019s Scale of Heroes_                          91\n\n    XIII.  _On the different Manners of Reading_                 94\n\n    XIV.   _On Shakespeare_                                      99\n\n    XV.    _On Writing-hand_                                    103\n\n    XVI.   _On the want of accurate Views_                      108\n\n    XVII.  _On the Analogy of the Arts_                         114\n\n    XVIII. _On bad Association_                                 120\n\n\n\n\n                            ADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\nWhether these are real letters, or whether the author chose to throw\nhis observations into the epistolary form, is a point of no great\nconsequence. The invention of a story to shew how they came into the\neditor\u2019s hands is by no means difficult.\u2014A parcel of papers rescued\nfrom the trunk-maker or pastry-cook, has saved many an author from\nperishing. =CERVANTES= and =STERNE= were not above such shifts; but\nthey have served so often, that now, even the truth, tho\u2019 without the\nleast mixture of the marvellous, passes for invention.\n\nShould these little volumes contain any new and useful observations on\nmen and things, it is a sufficient reason for their publication\u2014if the\nphysic be wholesome, it is no matter under what form it is administered.\n\n\n\n\n                               LETTERS.\n\n\n\n\n                              =LETTER= I.\n\n\nSince you request that our correspondence should be out of the beaten\ntrack, be it so. My retirement from the world will naturally give an\nair of peculiarity to my sentiments, which perhaps may entertain where\nit does not convince. In justice to myself, let me observe, that truth\nsometimes does not strike us without the assistance of custom; but\nso great is the force of custom, that, unassisted by truth, it has\nworked the greatest miracles. Need I bring for proof the quantity of\nnonsense in all the arts, sciences, and even religion itself, which\nit has sanctified? As possibly in the course of my letters to you I\nmay attack some received doctrines on each of these subjects, let not\nwhat I advance be instantly rejected, because contrary to an opinion\nfounded on prejudice; but, as much as possible, divest yourself of the\npartiality acquired by habit, and if at last you should not agree with\nme, I shall suspect my sentiments to be peculiar and not just.\n\nTho\u2019 truth may want the assistance of use before we feel its force,\nyet when it is really felt, we detest what custom only made us like.\nThe difficulty is to procure for truth a fair examination. The\nmultitude is always against it. The first discovery in any thing is\nconsidered as an encroachment upon property, a property become sacred\nby possession. Discoverers are accordingly treated as criminals, and\nmust have good luck to escape execution.\n\nI mean not to rank myself with such bold adventurers; I am neither\nambitious of the honour, or the danger, of enlightening the world, but,\nif I can soften prejudices which I cannot remove\u2014if I can loosen the\nfetters of custom where I cannot altogether unbind them, and engage\nyou to think for yourself\u2014my end will be answered, and my trouble fully\nrepaid.\n\n                                                         Adieu! &c.\n\n\n\n\n                              =LETTER= II.\n\n\nIt is natural to suppose, that people originally judged of things\nby their senses and immediate perceptions. By degrees they found\nthat their senses were not infallible, and that things frequently\ncontradicted their first appearance. This, at last, was pushed to an\nextravagance; and certain philosophers endeavoured to persuade mankind,\nthat the senses deceive us so often, that we can never depend on\nthem\u2014that we cannot tell whether we are in motion or at rest, asleep or\nawake, with many other such absurdities. They used the same ingenuity\nwith the mental sense. Some ancient sage was asked, \u201cWho is the\nrichest man?\u201d if he had replied \u201cHe that has most money,\u201d the answer\nwould have been natural and just\u2014what he did say, every one knows. We\nhave suffered ourselves to be imposed on so long, that at last we begin\nto impose on ourselves.\n\nRiches, cards, and duelling, have been constantly abused, written,\nand preached against; and yet men will still hoard, play, and fight.\nWhy should they? All universal passions we may fairly pronounce to\nbe natural, and should be treated with respect. The gratification\nof our passions are our greatest pleasures, and he that has most\ngratifications is of course the happiest man. This, as a general\nassertion, is true, and it is true also in particulars, provided we pay\nno more for pleasure than it is worth.\n\nEvery man should endeavour to be rich. He that has money may possess\nevery thing that is transferable\u2014this is a sufficient inducement to\nprocure it. Nay, if he possesses nothing but his money, if he considers\nit as the end, as well as the means, it is still right to be rich: for,\nknowing that he has it in his power to procure every thing, he is as\nwell satisfied as is the thing itself was in his possession. This is\nthe true source of the miser\u2019s pleasure; and a great pleasure it is!\nA moral philosopher may tell him, \u201cthat man does not live for himself\nalone, and that he hurts the community by withholding what would\nbe of use to it\u201d\u2014this he thinks to be weak reasoning. The sneers of\nwits signify as little; for he knows they would be glad to be rich if\nthey could. He feels that the pleasure arising from the possession of\nriches, whether used or not, is too great to be given up for all the\nwit, or even the strongest arguments that can be brought against it.\n\nIt seems to be agreed, that card-playing proceeds entirely from\navarice\u2014tho\u2019 this may sometimes be the motive, yet it may with more\nprobability be derived from other, and more general principles.\n\nThe mind of man naturally requires employment, and that employment\nis most agreeable, which engages, without fatiguing the attention.\nThere is nothing for this purpose of such universal attraction as\ncards. The fine arts and belles lettres can only be enjoyed by those\nwho have a genius for them\u2014other studies and amusements have their\nparticular charm, but cards are the universal amusement in every\ncountry where they are known. The alternate changes in the play, the\nhope upon the taking up a new hand, and the triumph of getting a game,\nmade more compleat from the fear of losing it, keep the mind in a\nperpetual agitation, which is found by experience to be too agreeable\nto be quitted for any other consideration. The stake played for is a\nquickener of these sensations, but not the cause. Children who play for\nnothing feel what I have been describing perhaps in a more exquisite\ndegree than he who engages for thousands. A state of inaction is of\nall others the most dreadful! and it is to avoid this inaction that we\nseek employment, though at the expence of health, temper, and fortune.\nThis subject is finely touched by Abb\u00e9 du Bos, in his reflexions upon\npoetry, &c. indeed he carries it so far as to say, that the pleasure\narising from an extraordinary agitation of the mind, is frequently so\ngreat as to stifle humanity; and from hence arises the entertainment of\nthe common people at executions, and of the better sort at tragedies.\nTho\u2019 in this last instance he may be mistaken; yet, the delight we\nfeel in reading the actions of a hero may be referred to this cause.\nThe moralist censures the taste of those who can be pleased with the\nactions of an Alexander or a Nadir Shah\u2014the Truth is, we do not approve\nthe actions; but the relation of them causes that agitation of the\nmind which we find to be pleasant. The reign of Henry the seventh,\ntho\u2019 of the greatest consequence to this nation, does not interest us\nlike the contentions of York and Lancaster by which the kingdom was\nruined.\u2014It is in vain that we are told that scenes of war and bloodshed\ncan give no pleasure to a good mind, and that the true hero is he who\ncultivates the arts of peace, he by whom men are benefited not he by\nwhom they are destroyed\u2014it is to no purpose\u2014we sleep over the actions\nof quiet goodness, while aspiring, destroying greatness, claims and\ncommands our attention.\n\nDuelling has in many countries a law against it\u2014but can never be\nprevented. The law can inflict no greater penalty for any breach of it\nthan death; which the duellist contemns.\u2014There are also some cases of\ninjury which the law cannot prevent, nor punish when committed\u2014these\nmust be redressed by the man who suffers, and by him _only_. He is\nprompted to do this by something antecedent, and superior to all law,\nand by a desire as eager as hunger or lust; so that it is as easy\nfor law to prevent or restrain the two latter as the former. Very\nluckily for us, occasions for the gratifications of this passion occur\nbut seldom: and tho\u2019 a man may be restrained from a duel by personal\nfear, which is its only counteractor, there are very few instances,\nperhaps none, of its being prevented by considering it so a breach of\nthe law. In the beginning of the last century duels were as frequent,\nparticularly in France, as to occasion a severe edict to prevent\nthem\u2014indeed by their frequency, they were by degrees improved into\ncombats of two, three, and sometimes more of a side.\u2014In those days\na French nobleman was making up his party to decide a quarrel with\nanother man of equal rank, it came to the King\u2019s ears, who sent to him\none of the most rising men at court with a command to desist, assuring\nhim of the strict execution of the edict in case of disobedience.\u2014Every\none knows the attachment of the French to their sovereign, but yet it\nproved weak when set against this all-powerful passion. The nobleman\nnot only refused to obey the king, but actually engaged the messenger\nto be one of his party.\n\nThe above seem to be the principal reasons why riches, cards, and\nduelling have so deep a root in the mind of man\u2014but there are others\nwhich come in aid. The desire of superiority is of itself almost\nsufficient to produce this great effect.\n\n                                         Believe me ever yours, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= III.\n\n\nI Cannot comply with your desire\u2014a regular dissertation is above\nme\u2014\u2014but if you will take my thoughts as they occur, the honour of\nmethodizing them shall be yours.\n\nLanguages are termed rough and smooth, weak or expressive, frequently\nwithout reason.\u2014As these are comparative terms, they change their\napplication according to circumstances. The French is said to be a\nsmooth or rough language, when compared with the German or Italian.\nPerhaps this is true, and yet we should not determine too hastily.\nIn appearance, there are more vowels in the Italian language than in\nthe French; but in pronunciation the French lose many Consonants, and\nthe Italians none: and yet in French, so great is the irregularity\nof that language, many consonants are pronounced which are not\nwritten\u2014\u2014smoothness or roughness must therefore depend on the ear\nalone, yet how far a Language is weak or expressive, may be treated of\nand determined with precision.\n\nEvery sentence may be considered as the picture of an idea; the quicker\nthat picture is presented to the mind, the stronger is its Impression.\nThat language then which is shortest, is the most expressive. If\nwe should fix on any language as being in general the most concise,\nyet, if in some instances it is more diffuse than another, then, in\nthose instances the latter is most expressive. This, I believe, is an\nuniversal rule, and without exception.\n\nLet us for the present suppose Latin to be more expressive, because\nshorter, than any modern language, and compare it with English in some\nexamples, just as they occur. _Captus oculis_ and _c\u0153cus_\u2014are used for\nthe same thing\u2014the last is more expressive than the first, and both\nless so than blind: a single syllable does the office of many. How much\nmore forcibly does it strike us to be told that our friend is dead,\nthan _mortuus est_, or _Mors continuo ipsum occupavit_? This last is\nindeed poetical, if we suppose death a person. Tho\u2019 I just now said\nthat Latin was closer in its expression than any modern language, it\nwas only in compliance with common opinion; for I have great reason to\nbelieve that it yields in this respect to English: The latin hexameter\nand Terence\u2019s line being with ease included in our heroic verse,\nwhich is not so long by many syllables. There have been many pieces\nof English poetry translated into Latin, and, in general nothing can\nread more dead and unanimated. In the eighth volume of the Spectator\nis a translation of the famous soliloquy in the Play of Cato\u2014compare\nit with the original, and observe how the same thought is strong in\nEnglish and weak in Latin, occasioned entirely by its being close in\none language, and diffuse in the other: for, as much as one sentence\nexceeds another in length, in the same proportion does it fail in\nexpression.\n\nTranslations, most commonly, are more verbose than their original,\nwhich is one reason for their weakness; whenever they are less so, they\nare stronger. Suppose we should find in a French author these phrases,\n_Un Canon de neuf livres de Balle_\u2014_Un Vaisseau du Roi du quatre\nvingt dix Pieces du Canon_; and they were rendered into English by _a\nnine-pounder_\u2014_A ninety-gun ship_\u2014is not the translation more spirited\nthan the original? I purposely chose a phrase with as little matter in\nit as possible, where the meaning could not be mistaken, and in which\nthere was no variety of expression, that the trial might be fairer. I\nhave heard that the German is an expressive language\u2014it may be so, I\ndo not understand it; but I can perceive that, for the most part, the\nwords are very long, which makes against its being so. French, and\nItalian particularly, are much more diffuse than English. Translations\nfrom these languages have often a force that the originals wanted; and\nthis not owing to the English being a stronger language in _sound_, as\nsome have imagined, but to strength occasioned by brevity.\n\nPerhaps it may be imagined, that those words which carry their\nsignification with them should be most expressive, whether long or\nshort; that is, when they are derived from, or compounded of known\nwords, which express that signification. But this is not so. When we\nsay _adieu_, _farewell_\u2014we mean no more than a ceremony at parting.\u2014No\none considers _adieu_ as a recommendation to God, or _farewell_ as\na wish for happiness.\u2014Frequent use destroys all idea of derivation.\nBut if we speak a compound or self-significative word that is not\ncommon, we perceive the derivation of it. Thus if a Londoner says\n_butter-milk_, he has an idea of something compounded of butter and\nmilk; but to an Irishman or Hollander, it is as simple an idea as\neither of the words taken separately, is to us.\n\nIt is but late that our orthography was fixed even in the most common\nwords. Two hundred years ago, every person spelt as he liked: a\nprivilege enjoyed still later than that period by \u201croyal and noble\nauthors,\u201d who seem, in this instance, to claim the liberty enjoyed by\ntheir ancestors. Since the time orthography has been thought of some\nconsequence, we have attended partly to pronunciation, tho\u2019 chiefly\nto derivation. But, in some cases, where we should altogether have\nspelt according to derivation, we have taken pronunciation for our\nguide. And this has occasioned some confusion; for instance _naught_\nis _bad_\u2014_nought_ is _nothing_; these terms were long confounded, and\neven now are not kept perfectly distinct, which has occasioned _ought_\nto be written _aught_. _Wrapt_ is envelloped\u2014_rapt_ is hurried away,\nor totally possessed: the first of these is frequently used for the\nlast, by some of our modern poets. _Marry_ is an asseveration\u2014_marry_,\nto give in marriage\u2014the spelling these words the same, confounds\nthem together; we should have preserved for the first, the real word\n_mary_. It was a common thing formerly to swear by _Mary_, the _a_ in\nwhich was pronounced broad, as the Priests of that time did the Latin\n_Maria_, from whom the common people took the pronunciation. In one\nof the pieces in the first volume of the collection of old plays, it\nfrequently occurs, and is spelt as a proper name, _Marie_. Permit me\nto observe, that the Editor, by modernizing the spelling in the other\nvolumes, has prevented their being made this use of, as they might have\nshewed the progress of orthography as well as of dramatic poetry.\n\nIn the reign of James the first were many attempts to reduce\northography altogether to pronunciation. In our time we have seen some\nattempts to bring it altogether from derivation\u2014but surely both were\nwrong. Whoever reads Howel\u2019s letters, or Dr. Newton\u2019s Milton, will\nsee, that by a partial principle too generally adopted, they have\nmade of the English language \u201ca very fantastical banquet\u2014just so many\nstrange dishes!\u201d\n\nThere are many inversions of phrases used in poetry which are contrary\nto the genius of our language. In the translation of the Iliad\nthere frequently occurs \u201cthunders the sky\u201d\u2014\u2014\u201ctotters the ground,\u201d\nmeaning that \u201cthe sky thunders\u201d and \u201cthe ground totters.\u201d This change\nof position has the authority of some of our best poets, tho\u2019 it\nfrequently obscures the sense, and sometimes makes it directly contrary\nto what is intended to be expressed. Our language does not, with\nease, admit of the nominative after the verb. If we read, tho\u2019 in\npoetry, \u201cshakes the ground\u201d we do not readily understand that \u201cthe\nground shakes,\u201d but rather refer to some antecedent nominative that\nhas produced this effect. To adopt the construction of the ancient\nlanguages is as awkward as to adopt their measures. You will understand\nthis to be meant as a general observation, the truth of which is not\ndestroyed by a few exceptions where the inversion may be happily\nused. The sense in these verses of Pope \u201chalts\u201d as much by Roman\nconstruction, as the Rhythmus in Sidney does by \u201cRoman feet.\u201d\n\nIn reading Latin and Greek we are obliged to keep the sense suspended\nuntil we come to the end of the period, but it is not so in any modern\nlanguage that I know of, except now and then in Italian poetry; so that\nthere is a sameness of construction in all of them when compared with\nthe ancient languages. Now, this suspension of the sense is surely no\nadvantage, therefore if it were possible to make English like Latin and\nGreek in this respect, it would hurt the language.\n\nIn another letter I may possibly resume this subject.\n\n                                                          I am, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= IV.\n\n\nOur greatest mistake in the pursuit of happiness as well as of science,\nis to judge by the perceptions of others, and not by our own. This\nperversion is admirably ridiculed in some comedy, in which a young\nfellow naturally sober, gives into debaucheries merely because they are\nfashionable. \u201cI am horrid sick\u201d\u2014says he\u2014\u201cI am tired to death\u2014I hate\ncards\u2014but it is _life_ for all that!\u201d\n\nMy friend, examine your heart\u2014You yourself are the best judge of\nwhat contributes to your own happiness. Is the pleasure of shooting\nequal to the fatigue?... Put down the gun. Is the cry of the hounds a\nsufficient charm to remove the fear of breaking your neck?... Come off\nyour horse.\u2014And in pure charity let me advise the \u201c_im_patient fisher\u201d\nto convert his rod into a walking stick, jemmy, and switch. \u201cFor what?\nDo not gentlemen love country diversions?\u201d But if _you_ do not, why\nshould you be governed by _their_ inclinations?\n\nMr. Connoisseur, do not pretend raptures at music, you know you have no\near.\u2014Stare not at that picture, you are sensible you have no eye.\u2014Close\nthat book, let others weep; you have no heart. \u201cSir, it is the taste to\nadmire music, painting, and fine writing.\u201d\u2014I am very glad of it.\u2014But\nit is not _your_ taste, here\n\n                    \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014hinc Vos,\n    Vos hinc, mutatis discedite partibus\u2014\n\nNow confess honestly Mr. Sportsman, that you have more pleasure in\nSnyder\u2019s pictures, than from hunting in propri\u00e2 person\u00e2\u2014that the\nFrench horns at a concert have more harmony than in a wood. And, Mr.\nConnoisseur, you are now in your element.\u2014Is it not better to \u201cjoin the\njovial chace\u201d than the insipid crew of the dilettanti?\n\nLet us remember and practice the old maxim.\n\n    \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014trahit _sua_ quemque Voluptas.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= V.\n\n\nDear Sir,\n\nI am glad you go on with your painting. Though you should never arrive\nat any great degree of excellence yourself, it will infallibly make\nyou a better judge of the excellencies of others. You tell me, what\nindeed every Connoisseur says by rote, that the great painters painted\nabove, beyond nature! That they painted beyond nature I grant, but not\nabove, if by above we are to understand something more excellent than\nwhat we find in nature. I have long been sick of the cant of writers\nand talkers upon this subject. If it be possible, let us speak a little\ncommon-sense\u2014endeavour to shew what seems by our feelings to be the\ntruth, and then prevent a wrong application of it.\n\nThe great painters, it is agreed, painted beyond nature\u2014but how? Why,\nif I may venture to say it, by drawing and colouring extravagantly. But\nwere they right or wrong in doing so? This depends upon circumstances.\nI remember seeing at a Painter\u2019s a head taken from nature, another\ncopied from Hans Holbein, and a third from Giulio Romano\u2014upon which\nthe artist made a dissertation.\u2014He first produced the portrait from\nnature, and asked me how I liked it? I told him that there appeared\nto me great simplicity and elegance in it, and an excellence which\nI thought essential to a good picture\u2014a proper ballance between the\nlight and shade of every part. (I meant that the shade of the white was\nlighter than that of blue\u2014of blue fainter than of black, &c. so that\neach colour was as perceivable in the shadows as lights.) Ay, says he,\nthat is true, but I will shew you a style preferable to it\u2014Upon which\nhe produced the copy from Holbein.\u2014I agreed, that it was stronger, and\nsuch as nature might appear in many instances.\u2014\u2014But here, says he, is\nsomething _beyond_ nature; this I call the sublime style of painting,\nand this I will try to bring my heads to.\u2014Then he discovered the\ncopy from Giulio\u2014there is strength, says he\u2014see how faint the others\nare.\u2014Now, acknowledge that the picture I painted from nature is nothing\nto it. It must be confessed, I replied, that the extravagance of the\nlast picture does for a moment dazzle our eyes\u2014yours seems weak by\nthe comparison, it is like looking upon white paper after staring at\nthe sun.\u2014On the contrary, if I pass from yours to this, I am hurt at\nseeing every thing so extravagant, and so far _beyond the modesty of\nnature_!\u2014\u201cIt is not intended to be strictly natural, it is the _fine\nideal_, it is something above, beyond nature!\u201d \u201cI must own that I\nhave no idea of any beauty beyond what may be found in nature\u2014indeed,\nwhence is the idea to be taken? But do not think I rate Giulio or any\nof the sublime painters lightly; I am so sensible of their merit,\nthat, contrary perhaps to your expectation, I am about to defend their\npractice. They generally painted for churches, where the picture is\nseen in a bad light, or at a distance; so that it could not be seen\nat all if the manner was not violent: both the drawing and colouring\nmust be extravagant to strike\u2014for which reason, they overcharged their\nattitudes, blackened their shadows, reddened their carnations, and\nwhitened their lights; and all this with the greatest propriety. But\nif you apply this practice to closet or portrait painting, what is an\nexcellence in them, becomes a defect in you. This picture which you\nhave copied with so much success, I dare say has an admirable effect\nwhere it hangs; but near the eye or in a strong light, it is hard and\nover-done. On the other hand, if your portrait was to be hung at a\ngreat distance, or in an obscure place, the delicate touches I now\nadmire would escape the sight. The style proper for the church is\nimproper for the closet, and the contrary. The great painters were in\nthe right then, in painting _beyond nature_; but let us not imagine\nthat such figures and characters are therefore the most beautiful.\nNo painter can invent a figure surpassing the _finest_ of nature: for\ncharacter and form, nature is the _just_ and _only_ standard. He shews\nhis genius more by properly associating natural objects, and expressing\nnatural characters, than by exaggerating them or by inventing new\nones.\u201d\n\nWhen I receive the picture you have promised me, I will criticise it\nwith as much sincerity as\n\n                                              I am your Friend, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= VI.\n\n\nYou have turned my thoughts much towards painting of late\u2014I have been\ntrying to solve this question.\n\nWhat is the reason that those objects which displease us, or at best,\nthat pass unnoticed, in nature, please us most in painting?\n\nA deep road, a puddle of water, a bank covered with docks and\nbriars, and an old tree or two, are all the circumstances in many a\nfine landscape. As clowns and half starved cattle are the figures a\nlandscape-painter chuses for his pictures; so, rough-looking fellows\nwrapt up in sheets and blankets, are chosen by the history-painter, to\nexpress the greatest personages, and in the most dignified actions of\ntheir lives.\n\nLet the following observations have what weight they may\u2014tho\u2019 they do\nnot clearly answer, they seem to throw some light on this difficult\nquestion.\n\n1. While we are uncultivated, like the Irish Oscar, if we are to\nbe awakened, it must be by having a great stone thrown against our\nheads. The man of the utmost elegance and refinement may remember the\ntime when, in reading, nothing moved him but the marvellous, and in\npainting, nothing pleased him but the glaring. While he was in this\nstate, he delighted in books of chivalry and Chinese pictures\u2014these\ngave place to less extravagant representations of life; and at last\nby much converse with men of taste, reading purer authors, and seeing\nbetter pictures, he is taught how to feel, and finds a perfect\nrevolution even in his sensations. Those objects which once delighted\nhim, he now despises\u2014these, on the contrary, he formerly took no notice\nof, he now sees with rapture; and even goes so far as to admire the\nobjects in nature, _he has learnt_ to like in representation.\u2014Now, it\nis this improved, tho\u2019 artificial state of the mind that constitutes\nthe judge of painting\u2014and it is the judge the painter is sollicitous\nto please.\u2014He is to attain this end then, by departing as much as\npossible from what is our natural barbarous taste, and by conforming to\nthat we have acquired.\n\n2. It is most certain that in all the arts we make difficulties in\norder to shew our skill in conquering them.\u2014Some French writer calls\nthis principle _la difficult\u00e8 vaincue_; and this conquest is the source\nof much pleasure. What is it but this that induces the novellist\nand play-writer to embarrass their characters with difficulties and\ntroubles? What is there but this that can make a musical canon to be\nthought fine in composition, or extravagant execution in performance\nagreeable, when the mind cannot comprehend the one, nor the ear follow\nthe other? and, to bring it to the present subject\u2014what is it but this\nthat induces the painter to make use of the most unpromising objects,\nand produce beauty where you might expect nothing but deformity?\n\n3. It is necessary that a painter should chuse such objects as are\ncapable of variety either from shape or arrangement. Regular formal\nobjects admit but little, especially those where art has the greatest\nshare in their production, unless they are capable of motion, as ships,\nwindmills, &c. and then they become pictoresque by a proper choice\nof attitude. It is curious to observe the shifts to which artists\nare reduced, when they are obliged to paint such objects as are in\nthemselves unpictoresque\u2014suppose a fine house with avenues of trees.\nThey will vary the tint of the stones in the one, and of the leaves in\nthe other, or by throwing in accidental shades and lights produce a\nvariety. In like manner, portrait-painters undress the hair, loosen the\ncoat, and wrinkle the stockings that they may produce a variety in the\n_manner_ of _treating_ a subject which wanted it in form.\n\nThose objects which have no set form have of course most variety. A\nroad or river may wind in any direction\u2014trees are of all sizes and\nshapes, may stand here or there\u2014loose drapery admits of a thousand\nfolds and dispositions which the stiff modern dress is incapable of. So\nthat the painter by taking these has ample materials for shewing his\njudgment in form, or skill in arrangement\u2014\u2014for making, and overcoming\ndifficulties\u2014and lastly, by the uniting both these he conforms to the\nprinciples by which the cultivated taste is pleased\u2014the ultimate end of\nall the fine arts.\n\nIf you are not satisfied with this solution, help me to a better\u2014but\ngive a fair reading to this of\n\n                                           Your sincere friend, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= VII.\n\n\nI do not admit your excuse.\u2014A genius should never comply with _local_\nor _temporary_ taste\u2014instead of debasing himself to the people, he\nshould elevate the people to him. When Milton subtilizes divinity, and\nShakespeare \u201ccracks the wind of a poor phrase;\u201d who but wishes that\nthose great poets had not descended from their sphere?\n\nYour allusions to incidents which must soon be forgot, are only worthy\nof a writer who expects but a short existence. It is true our plays\nabound with such allusions. When Foigard, in the Beaux Stratagem,\nsays he is a subject of the King of Spain\u2014they ask him in a fury\n\u201cwhich King of Spain?\u201d This did very well at the time; but these two\nKings of Spain are now of much less consequence than their brother\nmonarchs of Brentford. I think it is in the same play where one of the\ncharacters is asked \u201cwhen he was at church last?\u201d he should answer \u201cat\nthe coronation;\u201d but it is a point to give a reply that shall suit\nthe time when the play is performed, forgetting that there are many\nexpressions which remove you back into the last century when the play\nwas written. I remember in the late King\u2019s reign the reply used to be\n\u201cat the installation;\u201d at the accession of his present Majesty an\nactor thought he had a good opportunity of returning to \u201ccoronation,\u201d\nbut unluckily it was before the King was crowned.\n\nAllusions of this sort soon become obscure, and yet they will not bear\nbeing altered. \u201cPray you avoid them.\u201d\n\n                                                         Adieu, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= VIII.\n\n\nTrue, my friend, musicians do commit strange absurdities by way of\nexpression\u2014but fanciful people make them commit others which they never\nthought of.\n\nThe most common mistake of composers is to express words and not ideas.\nThis is generally the case with Purcel, and frequently with Handel. I\nbelieve there is not a single piece existing of the former, if it has\na word to be played upon, but will prove my assertion: and the latter,\nif the impetuosity of the musical subject will give him leave, will\nat any time quit it for a pun. There is no trap so likely to catch\ncomposers as the words _high_ and _low_, _down_ and _up_. \u201cBy G\u2014 (as\nQuin says) they must bite.\u201d In what raptures was Purcel when he set\n\u201cThey that _go down_ to the sea in ships.\u201d How lucky a circumstance,\nthat there was a singer at that time, who could _go down_ to DD, and\n_go up_ two Octaves above? for there is in other parts of the anthem a\ngoing _up_ as well as _down_. The whole is a constellation of beauties\nof this kind. Handel had leisure, at the conclusion of an excellent\nmovement, to endeavour at an imitation of the rocking of a cradle (See\nthe end of the anthem \u201cMy heart is inditing\u201d), and has his _ups_ and\n_downs_ too in plenty. If many examples of this may be found in these\ngreat geniuses, it would be endless to enumerate the instances in\nthose of the lower order. Let it suffice to observe, that all operas\nwithout exception, the greatest part of church-music, and particularly\nMarcello\u2019s psalms, abound in this ridiculous imitative expression.\n\nThis is trifling with the words and neglecting the sentiment; but the\nfault is much increased when a word is expressed in contradiction to\nthe sentiment. A most flagrant instance of this is in Boyce\u2019s Solomon,\nin the song of \u201cArise my Fair One come away.\u201d\u2014The hero of the piece is\ninviting his mistress to come to him, and to tempt her the more, in\ndescribing the beauty of the spring, he tells her that\n\n    \u201cStern winter\u2019s _gone_ with all its train\n    \u201cOf chilling frosts and dropping rain,\u201d\n\nbut it is _come_ in the music\u2014the unlucky words of _winter_, _frost_,\nand _rain_, made the composer set the lover a shivering, when he was\nfull of the feelings of the \u201cgenial ray!\u201d\n\nBut sometimes expression of the sentiment is blameable, if such\nexpression is improper for the general subject of the piece. Religious\nsolemnity should not appear at the theatre, nor theatrical levity at\nthe church. In the _Stabat Mater_ of Pergolesi, and in the _Messiah_\nof Handel, there is an expression of whipping attempted, which, if\nit is understood at all, conveys either a ludicrous or prophane idea,\naccording to the disposition of the hearer. Permit me to suspend my\nsubject a moment just to observe, that there is sometimes mention\nmade in plays, of providence, God, and other subjects, which are as\nincompatible with a place of public entertainment, as the common\nsentiments of plays are with the church. If we are disgusted at a\ntheatrical preacher, we are not less offended when an actor heightens\nall these ill-placed sentiments\u2014forcing them upon your notice by an\naffectation of a deep sense of religion, and most solemnly preaching\nthe sermon which the poet so improperly wrote.\n\nAll these, and many more, are faults which musicians _really_\ncommit; but a connoisseur will make them guilty of others, by way of\ncompliment, which the composers never dreamt of. The introduction of\nthe Coronation anthem, _Zadok the Priest_, is an arpeggio, which Handel\nprobably took from his own performance at the harpsichord; but a great\njudge says, it is to express the murmurs of the people assembled in the\nabbey. \u201cAll we like sheep are gone astray\u201d in the Messiah is considered\nas most excellently expressing the breaking out of sheep from a\nfield.\u2014\u2014 But out of pity to the connoisseurs, virtuosi, and the most\nrespectable _Conoscenti_, I will not increase my instances\u2014God forbid\nI should rob any man of his criticism!\n\nLest I should encroach upon _your_ premises, I will quit such dangerous\nground, and leave you with more celerity than ceremony.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= IX.\n\n\nI like every part of your poem except the parenthesis towards the\nconclusion. In the midst of a rapid description, or tender sentiment;\nor any thing that commands the attention, or attaches the heart; what\nis more disgustful than to have the image cut in two, for the sake\nof explaining a word, or removing an objection, which the reader may\npossibly make?\n\nMilton and Shakespeare frequently interrupt the most lively and ardent\npassages\u2014take some instances as they occur.\n\n    Their arms away they threw, and to the hills\n    (For earth hath this variety from heav\u2019n\n    Of pleasure situate in hill or dale)\n    Light as the lightning\u2019s glimpse they ran, they flew.\n\n                                                  PAR. LOST. B. VI.\n\n                  \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014when on a day\n    (For time, though in eternity, apply\u2019d\n    To motion, measures all things durable\n    By present, past, and future) on such a day\n    As heaven\u2019s great year brings forth.\n\n                                                   PAR. LOST. B. V.\n\n            \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014evening now approach\u2019d\n    (For we have also our evening and our morn,\n    We ours for change delectable, not need)\n    Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn\n    Desirous; &c.\n\nUpon the mention of _hills_ in the first quotation, and of _day_ and\n_evening_ in the second and last\u2014he knew that he had some objections\nto answer, and accordingly set about doing it for fear of the\nconsequences\u2014I wish they had remained in their full force.\n\nYou have often read the Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream\u2014do you recollect this\npassage?\n\n      _Lys._  _Hermia_, for ought that ever I could read,\n    Could ever hear by tale or history,\n    The course of true love never did run smooth;\n    But, either it was different in blood\u2014\u2014\n\n      _Her._  O cross! too high, to be enthrall\u2019d to low!\u2014\u2014\n\n      _Lys._  Or else misgrafted in respect of years\u2014\n\n      _Her._  O spite! too old, to be engag\u2019d to young!\n\n      _Lys._  Or else it stood upon the choice of friends\u2014\n\n      _Her._  O hell! to chuse love by another\u2019s eye!\n\n      _Lys._  Or if there were a sympathy in choice\u2014\n      War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it.\n\nRead it without Hermia\u2019s interruptions and it becomes one of the finest\nparts of the author\u2014but it is miserably mangled as it stands.\n\nYou will remember that it is the improper use of the parenthesis I\nobject to and not to the thing itself. \u201cThis figure of composition,\u201d\nsays a late ingenious author, \u201cwhich is hardly ever used in common\ndiscourse, is much employed by the best writers of antiquity, in order\nto give a cast and colour to their style different from common idiom,\nand by Demosthenes particularly; and not only by the orators, but the\npoets.\u201d\n\nI would recommend to your consideration whether you had not better\navoid giving any hint how the story of your poem is to conclude?\nAnticipation frequently spoils a fine incident. When \u00c6neas is reciting\nto Dido what past at Troy, says he,\n\n    Arduus armatos mediis in m\u00e6nibus astans\n    Fundit equus.\n\n                                                            \u00c6N. II.\n\nThe first mention of the Horse\u2019s having armed men within, should have\nbeen reserved for this place. There is something truly terrible and\nsublime in \u00c6neas\u2019s being waked by such a variety of horrid sounds,\nand ignorant of the cause; the reader also should have been ignorant\nuntil Pantheus explained the mystery. See the whole passage in \u00c6n. II.\nbeginning at the 298th verse, and if possible, forget that this went\nbefore.\n\n    Delecta virum fortiti corpora furtim\n    Includunt c\u00e6co lateri, &c.\n\nOne of the finest parts of Don Quixote is also spoiled by mentioning\na circumstance which should have been delayed. The Knight and his\n\u2019Squire, at the close of the day, hear the clank of chains, and\ndreadful blows, which would have puzzled the reader as much as it\nfrightened them, had not the author unluckily said \u201cthat the strokes\nwere in _time_ and _measure_,\u201d which is telling us very plainly that it\nwas a mill. The whole scene is highly pictoresque and beautiful.\n\nIf these hints will be of any service to you it will be a great\npleasure to\n\n                                                         Yours, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= X.\n\n\nThe productions of genius require some ages to be brought to\nperfection. The liberal arts have their infancy, youth and manhood;\nand, to carry on the allusion, continue sometime in a state of\nstrength, and then verge by degrees to a decline, which at last ends in\na total extinction. The English language, poetry, and music, exhibit\nproofs of this observation, as far as they have as yet gone: with the\ntwo former I have at present nothing to do, but shall confine what I\nhave to say on this subject to the latter.\n\nWhat the music of the times preceding Harry the eighth was, I confess\nmyself ignorant, nor indeed is the knowledge of it necessary: we may\nconclude that it was more barbarous than that of the sixteenth century,\nas the times in which it was used were less enlightened. Some masses,\nmottets, and madrigals are what have reached us. The whole consists\nof a succession of chords without art or meaning, and perfectly\ndestitute of air. In Elizabeth\u2019s reign appeared some composers, Tallis,\nBird, Morley, and Farrant, which improved the barren style of their\npredecessors: they had more choice in their harmony, and made some\nlittle advances in melody. There are some pieces of instrumental\nmusic composed at this time which still exist: particularly a book\nof lessons, for the virginals, which was the Queen\u2019s.\u2014Whether the\ncomposers thought that her sacred Majesty excelled in musical abilities\nas much as in rank, or as she wished to do in beauty, I know not; but\nthis is certain, that these pieces are so crowded with parts, and so\naukwardly barbarous, as to render the performance of them impossible\u2014so\nnatural is it, even in the infancy of art, to mistake difficulty for\nbeauty.\n\nI do not recollect any composer that really improved music for the\nfirst half of the seventeenth century, except Orlando Gibbons; of\nwhom, a service for the church, and two or three anthems remain, the\nharmony of which is good, and the melody pleasing. In the Gloria Patri\nof the Nunc Dimittis is the best canon, in my judgment, that was ever\nmade. Gibbons was also a composer for the virginals, but in no respect\nbetter than his predecessors. I believe it was about this time that\nthe species of canon called the catch, was produced. The intent of my\nmaking this short recapitulation of the former state of music is purely\nprefatory to what I have to say upon the subject of catches.\n\nThis odd species of composition, whenever invented, was brought to its\nperfection by Purcel. Real music was as yet in its childhood; but the\nreign of Charles the second carried every kind of vulgar debauchery\nto its height. The proper \u00e6ra for the birth of such pieces as \u201cwhen\nquartered, have ever three parts obscenity, and one part music.\u201d\n\nThe definition of a catch is a piece for three or more voices, one of\nwhich leads, and the others follow in the same notes. It must be so\ncontrived, that rests (which are made for that purpose) in the music of\none line be filled up with a word or two from another line; these form\na cross-purpose or catch, from whence the name. Now, this piece of wit\nis not judged perfect, if the result be not the rankest indecency.\n\nPerhaps this definition may be objected to, and I may be told that\nthere are catches perfectly harmless. It is true that some pieces are\ncalled catches that have nothing to offend, and others that may justly\npretend to please; but they want what is absolutely necessary for a\ncatch\u2014the break, and cross-purpose.\n\nIt may also be said that the result of the break, is not always\nindecency. I confess there are catches upon other subjects, drunkenness\nis a favourite one; which, though good, is not so _very_ good as the\nother: and there may possibly be found one or two upon other topicks\nwhich might be heard without disgust; but these are not sufficient to\ncontradict a general rule, or make me retract what I have advanced.\n\nI will next examine their musical merit.\u2014And this as compositions\nmust consist either in their harmony, or melody; or their effect in\nperformance.\n\nThe harmony of a catch is nothing more than the common result of\nfilling up a chord.\u2014There is not contrivance enough to make it esteemed\nas a piece of ingenuity. \u201cWhat! they are all canons!\u201d So is every\ntune in the world, if you will set it in three or more parts, and\nsing those parts in succession as a catch\u2014but a _real_ canon is not\nso easily produced: it is one of those difficult trifles which costs\nan infinite deal of labour, and after all is worth nothing. I do not\nexcept the famous _Non nobis_ of Bird, in which are some passages not\nto be endured. The excellence in the composition of a catch consists in\nmaking the breaks, and filling them up properly. The melody is, for the\nmost part, the unimproved vulgar drawl of the times of ignorance.\n\nLet us next attend to the manner of performance. One voice leads, a\nsecond follows, and a third, &c. succeeds, unaccompanied with any\ninstrument to keep them in tune together. The consequence is, that the\nvoices are always sinking, but not equally, for the best singer will\nkeep nearest the pitch, and the others depart farthest from it. If\nthe parts are doubled, which is sometimes the case, all these defects\nare multiplied. To this let there be added the imperfect scale of an\nuncultivated voice, the _departing_ from the real sound by way of\nhumour, the noise of so many people striving to outsing each other,\nthe confusion of speaking different words at the same time, and all\nthis heightened by the laughing and other accompaniments of the\naudience\u2014it presents such a scene of savage folly as would not disgrace\nthe Hottentots indeed, but is not much to the credit of a company of\ncivilized people.\n\nAs the catch in a manner owed its existence to a drunken club, of which\nsome musicians were members; upon their dying, it languished for years,\nand was scarce known except among choir-men, who now and then kept\nup the spirit of their forefathers. As the age grew more polished, a\nbetter style of music appeared. Corelli gave a new turn to instrumental\nmusic, and was successfully followed by Geminiani and Handel; the last\nexcelled in vocal as well as instrumental music.\n\nThere have been refinements and confessed improvements upon all these\ngreat men since; and no doubt but at this time there are much better\nperformers, and more elegant, tho\u2019 less solid composers. This is the\nunited effect of the labours of the whole together, for there is no\n_one man_ to be compared with either of the above-mentioned.\n\nNow, if this were speculation only, is it credible that taste should\nrevert to barbarism? Its natural death is, to be frittered away in\nfalse refinement; and yet, contrary to experience in every other\ninstance, we have gone back a century, and catches flourish in the\nreign of George the third. There is a club composed of some of the\nfirst people in the kingdom which meet professedly to hear this species\nof composition: they cultivate it and encourage it with premiums. To\nobtain which, many composers, who ought to be above such nonsense,\nbecome candidates, and produce such things\n\n    \u2014\u2014\u201cone knows not what to call,\n    \u201cTheir generation\u2019s so equivocal.\u201d\n\nSometimes a piece makes its appearance that was lately found by\naccident after a concealment of a hundred and fifty years. When it\nis approved, and declared too excellent for these degenerate days,\nthe author smiles and owns it. I scarce ever saw one of these things\nthat did not betray itself, within three bars, to be modern. It is as\ndifficult to imitate ancient music as ancient poetry; a few square\nnotes are not sufficient for the one, nor will two or three _whiloms_\nand _ekes_ do for the other. And yet in this last instance a few\naffected antiquated spellings have been thought by one half of the\nworld, sufficient to weigh against modern phraseology, modern manners,\nand even modern facts. Surely it requires no great discernment to\ndiscover that what has existed may be imitated, but nothing less than\nthe gift of Prescience can dive into futurity. If it is _improbable_\nthat an uneducated boy should be able to produce what are called\nRowley\u2019s Poems, it is _impossible_ that Rowley could write in a style\nand allude to facts of after times. Forgive me this digression, but\nindeed I have nearly finished my subject and letter.\n\nI profess that I never heard a catch sung, but I felt more ashamed\nthan I can express. I pretend to no more delicacy than that of the\nage I live in, which is very properly too refined to endure such\nbarbarisms\u2014I was ashamed for myself\u2014for my company\u2014and if a foreigner\nwas present\u2014for my country.\n\nIt has just occurred to me that you like catches, and frequently help\nto sing them\u2014revenge yourself for the liberties I have taken, by\ncompelling me to hear some of these pleasant ditties, when perhaps I\nmay be forced to sing in my own defence.\n\n                                                             Adieu.\n\nP. S. If you should have a design to convert me\u2014take me to the\ncatch-club.\u2014I confess, and honour, the superior excellence of its\nperformance, while I lament that so noble a subscription should be\nlavished for so poor a purpose as keeping alive musical false-wit,\nwhen it might so powerfully support and encourage the best style\nof composition; and rather advance our taste by anticipating the\nimprovements of the coming age, than force it back to times of\nbarbarism, from which it has cost us such pains to emerge.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= XI.\n\n\nI know that you are one of those who consider our language as past its\nmeridian. Some think it was in its highest lustre in the age of Sidney;\nothers, in that of Addison. Perhaps, upon an impartial review of it, we\nshall find it more perfect now than ever.\n\nIn the authors before the reign of Elizabeth, there seems not the least\npretence to a simple, natural style. A man was held unfit to write, who\ncould not express his thoughts out of the common language; so that it\nis possible, there was as much difficulty in understanding them at the\ntime they lived, as now. If we are to judge of the English they spoke,\nby that they writ, we have no reason to complain of the fluctuation\nof our tongue. But it is very probable that conversation-language was\nmuch the same two hundred years ago as at present; there are proofs of\nthis in private letters still existing\u2014I mean from such people as had\nno ambition to be thought learned, or from such as felt too much for\naffectation. The famous letter of Ann Boleyn to Henry the eighth, is\nof this last sort, in which there is scarce an obsolete expression.\u2014\u2014I\nhope you make a distinction between expression and spelling\u2014for as I\nonce observed to you, it is but of late that our orthography has been\nfixed. In the State-tryals in Elizabeth and James\u2019s reign, we find near\nthe same language we use at present, and this was taken immediately\nfrom the mouth. In those passages where Shakespeare\u2019s genius had not\nits full scope, may be observed his attempts to be thought learned, and\nrefined; but where the subject was too impetuous to brook restraint,\nthe language is as perfect as the idea. Upon the whole, tho\u2019 the\ncolloquial English was much the same as at present, we may safely\npronounce the style of the _authors_ of this period to be barbarous.\n\nThe disputes between Charles the first and the Parliament, were\nof great use in polishing the language; and tho\u2019 the King\u2019s papers\nare thought to be most elegant, yet it is evident that both parties\nendeavoured at strength for the good of their cause, and at perspicuity\nfor the sake of being universally understood\u2014and these two principles\ngo near towards making a perfect style. Milton\u2019s prose is in general\nvery nervous, but it is not free from stiffness and affectation.\n\nThe other period is that of Addison. He was undoubtedly one of our\nsmoothest and best writers: he had the skill of uniting ease, strength,\nand correctness, and did more towards improving the language than the\nunited labours of fifty years before him. But yet there were some\nlittle remains of barbarism still left, which are evident enough in his\ncontemporaries, and may be discovered even in him, by attending to the\nstyle and not to the matter. Will you believe that so elegant a writer\nhas used _authenticalness_ for _authenticity_?\u2014\u2014You may find this\nhorrid word in his Dialogues on Medals.\n\nPolitical disputes have produced, among many bad effects, the same\ngood, now, as formerly\u2014they have improved our language. Those in the\nAdministration of Sir Robert Walpole, but more particularly these in\nour own times, have occasioned some of the most perfect pieces of\nwriting we have in our tongue. Though, from the nature of the subject,\nthe pieces themselves can scarce exist longer than the dispute which\ngave them being; yet certainly their effect upon the language will be\nfelt when the quarrel itself is no more, and every thing relating to it\nforgotten.\n\nTho\u2019 I have affirmed that our language is more perfect now than in any\npast period\u2014yet there is still much left in it to be corrected.\u2014Indeed\nthere are some defects in all languages, which have crept in by\ndegrees, and are so sanctified by custom, that they can never be\ncorrected. In English there is no difference in writing, tho\u2019 there is\nin pronouncing, the present, and preterperfect tenses of the verbs\n_read_, and _eat_, and some others. Some unsuccessful attempts have\nbeen made to distinguish them by writing _redde_ and _ate_. There are\nmore words in Latin of contrary significations which are written the\nsame, than, I believe, in any other language. It is a _defect_ if the\npronunciation of different words be alike, and a great _fault_ if such\na pronunciation be the consequence of a refinement. We now pronounce\n_fore_ and _four_, the same; which sometimes makes an odd confusion. \u201cI\nwill come to you at three, I can\u2019t come _before_\u201d\u2014and \u201cI will come to\nyou at three, I can\u2019t come _by four_\u201d\u2014are pronounced just the same way.\nThis we get by affectedly dropping the _u_. In French _au dessous_\nand _au dessus_ are too much alike for contrary significations. Nature\ndictates a difference of sound for different meanings: the adverbs of\nnegation and assent, bear no resemblance to each other in any language;\nand almost all languages agree in some such sound as _no_ for denial.\n\nThe London dialect is the cause of many improprieties, which, if they\nwere only used in conversation, would not much signify; but as they\nhave begun to make part of our written language, they deserve some\nanimadversion. To mention a few. The custom among the common people\nof adding an _s_ to many words, has, I believe, occasioned its being\nfixed to some, by writers of rank, who on account of their residence\nin London did not perceive the impropriety. They speak, and write,\n_chickens_\u2014_coals_\u2014_acquaintances_\u2014_assistances_, &c. _Chicken_ is\nitself the plural of _chick_, as _oxen_ is of _ox_, _kine_ (_cowen_)\nis of _cow_, and many others. _Coal_, _acquaintance_, being aggregate\nnouns, admit of no plural termination, nor does _assistance_. If I were\nto say a bag of shots, or sands, the impropriety would be instantly\nperceived; and yet one is full as good English as the other. A certain\nauthor of great credit, who has taken a strict, nay, a verbal review of\nthe English language, uses them as often as they occur.\n\nAs the Londoners speak, so they also write _learn_ for _teach_, this\nis a very old mistake, and occurs frequently in the psalms, _do_ for\n_does_ (and the contrary), _set_ for _sit_, _see_ for _saw_, _tin_ for\n_latten_ (which are two different things as well as words), _sulky_\nfor _sullen_, &c. &c. _\u2019Change_ and _\u2019sample_ have been long admitted\ndenizens.\u2014\u2014Even in a dictionary you may find _million_ explained to be\na fruit well known\u2014as perhaps in a future edition we shall be told that\na _fly_ signifies a _coach_, and _dilly_ a _chaise_.\n\nThe London _phraseology_ has also been too hard for English. _I got me\nup_\u2014_he sets him down_\u2014_I got no sleep_\u2014_I slept none_\u2014such a thing is\n_a_ doing\u2014_a_ going\u2014_a_ coming\u2014_live_ lobsters\u2014_live_-cattle\u2014I will\ncall _of_ you\u2014do not tell _on_ it. All these are writ without scruple.\nOur modern comedies, and the London news-papers, abound so much in this\nlanguage, that they are scarce intelligible to one who has never been\nin the capital. Nay in books for the use of schools, the London dialect\nis so predominant, that many of the sentences are not to be understood\nby a country boy, and impossible to be rendered into Latin even by\nthose who do understand them. \u201cI will go and fetch a walk in the Green\nPark\u201d\u2014\u201cI will go get me my dinner,\u201d and such jargon is perpetually\noccurring.\n\nEnglish has also been corrupted by London _emphasis_ and _accent_\u2014I\nwill not tire you by quoting examples, of which a long list might\nbe made to prove the great propensity of the common people to those\ndefects; and would be a farther confirmation of what I just now\nadvanced, that men of learning really commit improprieties, because\ntheir ear is familiarized to them.\n\nI have yet something to add on this subject\u2014but I must caution you\nfrom imagining that because I find out the faults of others, I pretend\nto perfection myself. Hogarth says very properly in his Analysis\nof Beauty, \u201cdo not look for good drawing in those examples which I\nbring of grace and beauty\u2014they are purposely neglected\u2014attend to the\nprecept.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= XII.\n\n\nI sometimes provoke you by sporting with what you deem sacred matters.\nHomer I know is one of your divinities\u2014may I venture to tell you that I\nnever could find that scale of heroes in the Iliad which critics admire\nas such a beauty?\n\nHector is supposed in valour superior to all but Achilles\u2014upon what\nauthority? Ajax certainly beat him in the single combat between them;\nand there are some instances, tho\u2019 I cannot recollect the passages, of\nhis inferiority to others of the Greeks.\n\nIt is surely a blindness worse than Homerican, not to see many\ninconsistencies in the Iliad, and it is ridiculous to attempt to make\nbeauties of them. From many which might easily be pointed out, take\none or two as they occur to my memory. After describing Mars as the\nmost terrible of beings, and to whom whole armies are as nothing;\nwhat _poetical_ belief is strong enough to suppose he could be made\nto retire by Diomed? If Minerva\u2019s shield is so vast (the shell of a\nKraken, I suppose), can one help wondering why she does not use it as\nthe King of Laputa does his island, when his subjects on Terra-firma\nrebel? I do not recollect parallel instances in Milton.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= XIII.\n\n\nYou have not done me justice\u2014read the memoirs I sent you _properly_\nbefore they are condemned:\u2014what is any book if it be not read in that\nmanner by which it may best be understood? A novel, whose merit lies\nchiefly in the story, should be quickly passed through; for the closer\nyou can bring the several circumstances together, the better. If its\nmerit consists in character and sentiment, it should be read much\nslower; for the least obvious parts of a character are frequently the\nmost beautiful, and the propriety of a sentiment may easily escape in\na hasty perusal. Detached thoughts ought to be dwelt on longer than\nany other manner of writing; for different subjects following close,\ndo rather confound than instruct; but if we allowed ourselves time to\nreflect, we should understand the author and perhaps improve ourselves.\nEach thought should be considered as a text, upon which we ought to\nmake a commentary.\n\nBayle\u2019s manner of writing by text and note is generally decried, but\nwithout reason. When there is a necessity of proving the assertion\nby quotation, which was his case, no other way can be taken equally\nperspicuous. The authorities must be produced somewhere\u2014they cannot be\nin the text, and if they are put at the end of the book, which is the\nmodern fashion, how much more troublesome are they for referring to,\nthan by being at the bottom of the page? The truth is, this is another\ninstance of ignorance in the method of reading. Bayle, Harris, and\nother writers of this class, should have the text read first, which is\nquickly dispatched; then, begin again and take in the notes. By this\nmeans you preserve a connection, and judge of the proofs of what is\nasserted.\n\nI might in other respects complain of your treating me rather unfairly;\nindeed, none judge less favourably of an author than his intimate\nfriends\u2014\u2014their personal knowledge of him as a man, destroys a hundred\ndelusions to his advantage as an author.\u2014\u201cWho is a hero to his Valet\nde Chambre?\u201d said the great Cond\u00e9, and he might have added, \u201cor to his\nfriends?\u201d Besides the obvious reason for this, it is most likely that\nan author has in his common conversation made his friends acquainted\nwith his sentiments long before they are communicated to the public.\nThe consequence is, that to _them_ his work is not new; and it is\npossible that they may take to themselves part of his merit; for I have\nknown many instances, where a person has been told something by way of\ninformation, which he himself told to the informer.\n\nI know you will take this to yourself.\u2014Do so, but still think me\n\n                                                           Yours, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= XIV.\n\n\nWe are got into a custom of mentioning Shakespeare and Jonson together,\nand many think them of equal merit, tho\u2019 in different ways. In my\nopinion, Jonson is one of the dullest writers I ever read, and his\nplays, with some few exceptions, the most unentertaining I ever saw. He\nhas some shining passages now and then, but not enough to make up for\nhis deficiencies. Shakespeare, on the contrary, abundantly recompenses\nfor being sometimes low and trifling. One of his commentators much\nadmires his great art in the construction of his verses\u2014I dare say\nthey are very perfect; but it is as much out of my power to think upon\nthe art of verse-making when I am reading this divine poet, as it is\nto consider of the best way of making fiddle-strings at a concert. I\nam not master of myself sufficiently to do any thing that requires\ndeliberation: I am taken up like a leaf in a whirlwind, and dropped at\nThebes or Athens, as the poet pleases!\n\nI have seldom any pleasure from the representation of Shakespeare\u2019s\nplays, unless it be from some scenes of conversation merely,\nwithout passion. The speeches which have any thing violent in the\nexpression, are generally so over-acted as to cease to be the \u201cmirror\nof nature\u201d\u2014but this was always the case\u2014\u201cOh! it offends me to the\nsoul, to see a robustious perriwig-pated fellow tear a passion to\ntatters:\u201d\u2014\u2019tho\u2019 this is a \u201clamentable thing,\u201d yet it appears to be\nwithout remedy. An actor, in a large theatre, is like a picture hung\nat a distance, if the touches are delicate, they escape the sight:\nboth must be extravagant to be seen at all, and hence the custom of\nthe ancients to make use of the Persona and Buskin. Acting has a\nvery different effect in the stage-box from what it has in the back\nof the gallery. In the one, every thing appears rough and rude,\nlike a picture of Spagnolet\u2019s near the eye; in the other, it is with\ndifficulty that the play can be made out. Perhaps, the best place is\nthe front of the first gallery; as being sufficiently removed to soften\nthese hardnesses, yet near enough to see and hear with advantage.\nBut there is no place can alter the impropriety of rant and turgid\ndeclamation, which the performer naturally runs into by endeavouring to\nbe strong enough to be heard\u2014so that, as I observed, the evil seems to\nbe incurable.\n\n\n\n\n                           =LETTER= XV.\n\n\nAn acquaintance of ours has corresponded with a writing-master many\nyears, not from any regard to the man, but for the pleasure he takes\nin seeing fine writing. He preserves his letters carefully, and though\nhe _reads_ them to none, (perhaps they are still unread by himself) he\n_shews_ them to all who can relish the excellence of a flourish \u201clong\ndrawn out.\u201d\u2014\u2014Our friend\u2019s taste may be ridiculed by those who \u201chold\nit a baseness to write fair,\u201d but yet it is certain, that the true\nform of letters, in writing, is understood no where but in England.\nI never saw a specimen of a correct hand either written or engraved,\nfrom any other country, that was upon a right principle. Perhaps it\nmay be objected, that every nation, prejudiced in favour of their own\nparticular manner, will say the same thing. Let us examine this.\n\nModern writing-hand had its rise from an endeavour to form the true\nletters as they are printed, with expedition. The first variation from\nthe original, must be an oblique instead of a perpendicular situation,\nthis naturally arises from the position of the hand\u2014the next, a joining\nof the letters; these two necessarily produce a third, an alteration\nof the form. So that writing hand differs from printing in this, that\nthe former is an arrangement of _connected_ characters, the latter of\ndistinct ones. The slit in the pen makes the down-strokes full, and\nthe up-strokes slight, so that the body of the letter is strong, and\nthe joinings weak; as they should be. It is most natural and easy also\nto hold the pen always in the same position, by which means, the full\nand hair-strokes are always in their right places. So far seems the\nnecessary consequence of endeavouring to make the letters expeditiously\nwith a pen. This being granted, the ornamental part comes next to\nbe considered. For this, it is requisite that the letters should\nbe of the same size and distance, that their leaning should be in\nthe same direction, that the joining be as much as possible uniform,\nand, lastly, that the superadded ornament of flourishing, should be\ncontinued in the same position of the pen in which it was first begun,\n(generally the reverse of the usual way of holding it), and that the\nforms be distinct, flowing, and graceful.\n\nThese appear to me to be the true principles of writing. Examine the\nItalian and French hands by these rules, (some of the best specimens\nare the titles of prints, &c.) and the hand which they use will be\nfound to be unconnected, full of unmeaning twists and curlings\ngenerally produced by altering the position of the pen, and upon the\nwhole awkward, stiff, and ungraceful.\n\nAs they _now_ write, we _did_, about seventy or eighty years since; so\nthat our present beautiful hand is a new one, and by its being used no\nwhere but in England, I must conclude it to be an English invention.\n\nBelieve me, in my best writing, and with my best wishes, ever\n\n                                                         Yours, &c.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= XVI.\n\n\nI Have often reflected with great grief, that there is scarce any\nremarkable natural object in the sublime style, of which we have\na draught, to be depended on. The cataract of Niagara.\u2014The peak\nof Teneriffe, we know nothing of but that the one is the greatest\nwaterfall, and the other the highest single mountain in the world.\nIt is true, Condamine says, that the Andes far surpass the peak of\nTeneriffe; more than a third\u2014but, it should be considered, that the\nvalley of Quito is 1600 fathoms above the sea, and that it is from\nthe foot of the mountain that the eye judges of its height. The peak\nof Teneriffe rises at once, and has, comparatively, but a small\nbase\u2014so that, in appearance, Teneriffe is the highest of mountains.\nThe cataract of Niagara, indeed, is most excellently _described_ by\nMr. Kalm; but all descriptions of visible objects comes so short\nof a representation, and is necessarily so imperfect, that if ten\ndifferent painters were to read Mr. Kalm\u2019s account of this amazing\nfall, and to draw it from his description, we should have as many\ndifferent draughts as painters. The peak of Teneriffe has been ascended\nby many, but described by none, for I cannot call those accounts\ndescriptions, which would suit any other high mountain as well. Some\ntravellers give views of what they apprehend to be curious, but all\nthat we can find from them is, that they cannot possibly be like the\nobject described. There must be some amazing scenes in Norway by\nPontoppidan\u2019s Descriptions, and in the Alps by Schuchtzer\u2019s, but their\ndraughts cannot bear the least resemblance to what they describe. Nay,\nthose objects which lie in the common road of travellers have just the\nsame fate.\u2014The view of Lombardy from the Alps\u2014the bay of Naples\u2014the\nappearance of Genoa, from the sea, &c. &c. are much talked of, but\nnever drawn: or if drawn, not published. From this general censure\nI should except a view of Vesuvius taken by a pupil of Vernet\u2019s, and\ntwo views of the Giant\u2019s causeway in Ireland, but above all Gaspar\nPoussin\u2019s drawings from Tivoli. These have something so characteristic,\nthat we may be sure that they give a proper idea of the scenes from\nwhence they were taken. Of the many thousands that are constantly going\nto the East-Indies, not one has published a drawing of the Cape of Good\nHope, nor of Adam\u2019s peak in Ceylon, nor fifty other remarkable objects\nwhich are seen in that voyage.\u2014\u2014Even the rock of Gibraltar is as yet\nundrawn. What I mean by a drawing is a _pictoresque_ view, not a meer\noutline for the use of navigators, nor the unmeaning marks of a pencil\ndirected by ignorance. I greatly suspect the so much commended draughts\nin Anson\u2019s voyage to be nothing but outlines filled up at random; and\nmore than suspect, that many designs in a late publication of this\nsort, are mere inventions at home.\n\nI have been led into this subject by the two admirable descriptions\nof \u00c6tna by Sir W. Hamilton and Brydone\u2014as much as _words_ can realize\nobjects, they _are_ realized.\u2014 But yet, a dozen different views taken\nby real artists, would have done more in an instant, than any effect\nwithin the power of description.\n\n\n\n\n                          =LETTER= XVII.\n\n\nIs there not something very fanciful in the analogy which some people\nhave discovered between the arts? I do not deny the _commune quoddam\nvinculum_, but would keep the principle within its proper bounds.\nPoetry and painting, I believe, are only allied to music and to each\nother; but music, besides having the above-named ladies for sisters,\nhas also astronomy and geometry for brothers, and grammar\u2014for a cousin,\nat least. I am sure I have left out many of the family, though, if\nI could enumerate what seems at present the whole, it is odds, but\nthere would be a new relation discovered soon by an adept in this\nbusiness.\u2014Why should not I find out one or two?\u2014I will try.\n\nLet me see\u2014what is there near me? Oh! a standish\u2014music then shall be\nlike my standish. Any thing else?\u2014Yes\u2014like the grate\u2014or like that shirt\nnow hanging by the fire, which makes so excellent a screen.\n\n\u201cHow prove you this in your great wisdom?\u201d\n\nMarry! thus\u2014music bears great analogy to my standish; because there\nis one bottle for the ink, another for the sand, and the third for\nwafers\u2014these are evidently the unison, third, and fifth, which make a\ncompleat chord; and those three a compleat standish.\u2014The pen is so\nevidently the plectrum, that it is insulting you to mention it.\n\n\u201cBut why like the grate?\u201d\n\nBless me! did you never see a testudo,\u2014a lyre? The bars are the\nstrings, the back is the belly\u2014need I enlarge? What is the fire but the\nvis musica?\u2014and here, the poker is the plectrum.\n\n\u201cBut how can it possibly be like the shirt?\u201d\n\nPho! any thing in analogy is possible.\u2014Like my shirt?\u2014Why, the body\nis the bass, the sleeves are two trebles\u2014the ruffles are shakes and\nflourishes\u2014the three buttons of the collar are evidently the common\nchord.\u2014But, a truce with such nonsense.\u2014There are scarce any two\nthings in the world but may be _made_ to resemble each other. Permit me\nto shew the slightness of another received opinion concerning music.\n\n\u201cWhat passion cannot music raise or quell?\u201d says Dryden, or Pope, I\nforget which: and the same thought is so often expressed by other\npoets, and so generally adopted by all authors upon this subject,\nthat it would be a bold attempt to contradict it, were there not\nan immediate appeal to general feeling, which I hope is superior\nto all authority. Thus supported then, I ask in my turn\u2014\u201cWhat\npassion _can_ music raise or quell?\u201d Who ever felt himself affected,\notherwise than with pleasure, at those strains which are supposed\nto inspire grief\u2014rage\u2014joy\u2014or pity? and this, in a degree, equal\nto the goodness of the composition and performance. The effect of\nmusic, in this instance, is just the same as of poetry. We attend\u2014are\npleased\u2014delighted\u2014transported\u2014and when the heart can bear no more,\n\u201cglow, tremble, and weep.\u201d All these are but different degrees of pure\n_pleasure_. When a poet or musician has produced this last effect, he\nhas attained the utmost in the power of poetry or music. Tears being\na general expression of grief, pain, and pity; and music, when in its\nperfection, producing them, has occasioned the mistake, of its raising\nthe passions of grief, &c. But tears, in fact, are nothing but the\nmechanical effect of every strong affection of the heart, and produced\nby all the passions; even joy and rage. It is this effect, and the\npleasurable sensation together, which Offian (whether ancient or modern\nI care not) calls the \u201cjoy of grief.\u201d\u2014\u2014It is this effect, when produced\nby some grand image, which Dr. Blair, his Critic, styles the \u201csublime\npathetic.\u201d\n\nI have chosen to illustrate these observations from poetry rather than\nfrom music, because it is more generally understood, and easier to\nquote\u2014but the principle is equal in both the arts.\n\n                                                             Adieu.\n\n\n\n\n                         =LETTER= XVIII.\n\n\nYour pictures came safe\u2014my opinion of them you will in part know from\nthe following observations, which, though made on another occasion, are\nequally applicable to this.\n\nThere is in landscape-painting and novel-writing a fault committed by\nsome of the best artists and authors, which is as yet unnamed, because\nperhaps unnoticed, permit me to call it _a bad association_.\n\nIn a landscape, it is not sufficient that all the objects are such\nas may well be found together.\u2014In a story, it is not enough that the\nincidents are such as may well happen\u2014it is necessary in both, that all\nthe circumstances should be of the _same family_.\n\nSuppose a landscape had for its subject one of Gaspar Poussin\u2019s Views\nof Tivoli\u2014now, tho\u2019 there is nothing more natural than to find mills\nby running water, yet a mill is not an object that can possibly agree\nwith the other parts of the picture. Suppose in a landscape of Ruysdale\nthere were introduced the ruins of a temple; tho\u2019 a temple may be\nproperly placed in a wood near water, yet it does not suit the rustic\nsimplicity of the pictures of this artist.\u2014Give the mill to Ruysdale\nand the temple to Gaspar\u2014all will be right. These two painters were the\nmost perfect in their different styles that ever existed. Both formed\nthemselves upon the study of nature, both were correct, both excellent;\nand yet so totally different from each other, that there are scarce\nany parts of the pictures of one, that will bear being introduced into\nthose of the other. Claude\u2019s magnificent ideas frequently betrayed him\ninto _a bad association_.\u2014\u2014Large grand masses of trees agree but ill\nwith sea and ships, unless they are removed to a distance.\u2014An English\npainter, who formed himself upon the study of Gaspar, took his trees,\nrocks, and other circumstances from that master, but his buildings\nfrom the Gardiner\u2019s huts at Newington.\n\nA story which proceeds upon a regular circumscribed plan, chiefly\nconsisting of dialogue and sentiment, where the scene is laid in\nLondon, and the characters such as are natural to the place; has _a bad\nassociation_ if the author goes to Africa in quest of adventures. On\nthe other hand, a novel which sets out upon the principle of variety,\nand where a frequent change of place is necessary to the execution of\nthe design, has _a bad association_ if the author in any part of it\nquits adventure for sentiment or satire. And yet, this has been done by\nFielding and Smollet, the two best novel-writers of the age.\n\n                   *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n                       END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.\n\n\n\n\n  Transcriber\u2019s Notes:\n\n   - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n   - Text enclosed by equals is in gesperrt (=gesperrt=).\n   - Blank pages have been removed.\n   - Silently corrected typographical errors.\n   - Spelling and hyphenation variations made consistent.\n   - Asterisk rows at the start or end of some letters have been\n     removed as I could not determine any purpose or consistency.","title":"Thirty Letters on Various Subjects, Vol. 1 (of 2)","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":13012}