writing properly termed pruritus, the "Titillation of the generative faculty of the brain," and the person is said to conceive; now such as conceive must bring forth. I have known a man thoughtful, melancholy, and raving for divers days, who forthwith grew wonderfully easy, lightsome, and cheerful, upon a discharge of the peccant humour, in exceeding purulent metre. Nor can I question, but abundance of untimely deaths are occasioned by want of this laudable vent of unruly passions; yea, perhaps, in poor wretches, (which is very lamentable,) for mere want of pen, ink, and paper! From hence it follows, that a suppression of the very worst poetry is of dangerous consequence to the State. We find by experience, that the same humours which vent themselves in summer in ballads and sonnets, are condensed by the winter's cold into pamphlets and speeches for and against the ministry. Nay, I know not but many times a piece of poetry may be the most innocent composition of a minister himself. It is therefore manifest that mediocrity ought to be allowed, yea, indulged, to the good subjects of England. Nor can I conceive how the world has swallowed the contrary as a maxim, upon the single authority of that Horace?? Why should the golden mean, the quintessence of all virtues, be deemed so offensive in this art? or coolness or mediocrity be so amiable a quality in a man, and so detestable in a poet? However, far be it from me to compare these writers, with those great spirits, who are born with a vivacité de pesanteur, or (as an English author calls it) an "alacrity of sinking;" and who by strength of Nature alone can excel. All I mean is to evince the necessity of rules to these lesser geniuses, as well as the usefulness of them to the greater. 2 Mediocribus esse poetis, Non dii, non homines, &c. Hor.-Pope. CHAPTER IV. THAT THERE IS AN ART OF THE BATHOS, OR PROFUND. We now come to prove that there is an Art of Sinking in Poetry. Is there not an architecture of vaults and cellars, as well as of lofty domes and pyramids ? Is there not as much skill and labour in making dikes, as in raising mounts? Is there not an art of diving as well as of flying? And will any sober practitioner affirm, that a diving engine is not of singular use in making him long-winded, assisting his sight, and furnishing him with other ingenious means of keeping under water. If we search the authors of antiquity, we shall find as few to have been distinguished in the true profund, as in the true sublime. And the very same thing (as it appears from Longinus) had been imagined of that as now of this; namely, that it was entirely the gift of Nature. I grant that to excel in the Bathos, a genius is requisite yet the rules of art must be allowed so far useful, as to add weight, or, as I may say, hang on lead, to facilitate and enforce our descent, to guide us to the most advantageous declivities, and habituate our imagination to a depth of thinking. Many there are that can fall, but few can arrive at the felicity of falling gracefully; much more for a man who is amongst the lowest of the creation, at the very bottom of the atmosphere, to descend beneath himself, is not so easy a task unless he calls in art to his assistance. It is with the Bathos as with small beer, which is indeed vapid and insipid, if left at large, and let abroad; but being by our rules confined and well stopped, nothing grows so frothy, pert, and bouncing. The sublime of nature is the sky, the sun, moon, stars, &c. The profund of nature is gold, pearls, precious stones, and the treasures of the deep, which are inestimable as unknown. But all that lies between these, as corn, flower, fruits, animals, and things for the mere use of man, are of mean price, and so common as not to be greatly esteemed by the curious. It being certain that any thing, of which we know the true use, cannot be invaluable; which affords a solution, why common sense hath either been totally despised, or held in small repute, by the greatest modern critics and authors. CHAPTER V. OF THE TRUE GENIUS FOR THE PROFUND, AND BY WHAT IT IS CONSTITUTED. AND I will venture to lay it down, as the first maxim and corner-stone of this our art, that whoever would excel therein, must studiously avoid, detest, and turn his head from all the ideas, ways, and workings of that pestilent foe to wit, and destroyer of fine figures, which is known by the name of Common Sense 3. His business must be to contract the true goût de travers; and to acquire a most happy, uncommon, unaccountable way of thinking. 3 This is too strongly expressed. Directly, and without palliation and disguise, to recommend absurdity is false writing, and unnatural to a great degree; so also is the beginning of Chapter the Tenth.-Warton. It would seem, from the above observation, that Dr. Warton had not comprehended the nature of the present work. It is only by carrying the irony to an extreme, that the subject becomes supportable; and to recommend false-writing, without palliation or disguise, is the only excuse for recommending it at all. These are the rocks and shoals of literature, and the only danger is, that they should not be sufficiently apparent. He is to consider himself as a grotesque painter, whose works would be spoiled by an imitation of nature, or uniformity of design. He is to mingle bits of the most various, or discordant kinds, landscape, history, portraits, animals, and connect them with a great deal of flourishing, by heads or tails, as it shall please his imagination, and contribute to his principal end, which is to glare by strong opposition of colours, and surprise by contrariety of images. Serpentes avibus geminentur, tigribus agni. HOR. 4 His design ought to be like a labyrinth, out of which nobody can get clear but himself. And since the great art of poetry is to mix truth with fiction, in order to join the credible with the surprising, our author shall produce the credible, by painting nature in her lowest simplicity; and the surprising, by contradicting common opinion. In the very manners he will affect the marvellous; he will draw Achilles with the patience of Job; a prince talking like a jack-pudding; a maid of honour selling bargains; a footman speaking like a philosopher; and a fine gentleman like a scholar. Whoever is conversant in modern plays, may make a most noble collection of this kind, and at the same time form a complete body of modern ethics and morality. Nothing seemed more plain to our great authors than that the world had long been weary of natural things. How much the contrary are formed to please, is evident from the universal applause daily given to the admirable entertainments of harlequin and magicians on our stage. When an audience behold a coach turned into a wheel-barrow, a conjuror into an old woman, or a man's head where his heels should be, 4 66 Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet." HORACE. how they are struck with transport and delight! Which can only be imputed to this cause, that each object is changed into that which hath been suggested to them by their own low ideas before. He ought therefore to render himself master of this happy and anti-natural way of thinking to such a degree, as to be able, on the appearance of any object, to furnish his imagination with ideas infinitely below it. And his eyes should be like unto the wrong end of a perspective glass, by which all the objects of nature are lessened. For example; when a true genius looks upon the sky, he immediately catches the idea of a piece of blue lustring, or a child's mantle. The skies, whose spreading volumes scarce have room, The new-born world in their soft lap embrac'd, If he looks on a tempest, he shall have an image of a troubled bed, and describe a succeeding calm in this manner: The ocean, joy'd to see the tempest fled, New lays his waves, and smooths his ruffled bed. The triumphs and acclamations of the angels, at the creation of the universe, present to his imagination "the rejoicings of the Lord Mayor's Day;" and he beholds those glorious beings celebrating the Creator, by huzzaing, making illuminations, and flinging squibs, crackers, and sky-rockets: Glorious illuminations, made on high, 5 Prince Arthur, pp. 41, 42.-Warburton. Steele praises Prince Arthur in the Englishman.-Warton. [In |