But to return to my subject. From the variety of concurring accidents and combination of circumstances, which are so necessary if not to form, at least to force genius into notice, it is more to be wondered at, that so many great characters have, than that more have not existed. True it is, that there are some, who are by nature endowed with such powers of mind, that they have risen superior to all surrounding impediments; but the number of these transcendent men are comparately few with those who have rendered themselves eminent from the fortuitous concurrence of lucky circumstances. To any one who attentively considers the variety of characters which may be met with in a large public school, the following will appear no unimportant circumstance. He cannot but observe the great number of boys, who by their natural abilities and early attainments seem to promise future greatness; and who, provided they had all an equal chance of succeeding in the world, might attain the heights of excellence. Yet how few of them in their maturer years fulfil those expectations, which the earliest periods of their life so justly excited. The reason is evident; when at school they had full and fair scope for the exercise of their talents; they were fired with emulation, animated by the hope of glory. Envy had not as yet tainted the purity of the breast; and every one honestly confessed his admiration of their superior powers. When they enter the larger theatre of the world, the case is widely different; the passions then take a larger range; envy, and all the blacker ones expand themselves. One man hides himself in the obscurity of what mistaken philosophy calls a life of retirement and ease, that is, of indolence and sloth; another destroys himself in the excesses of licentious pleasure; here distressed merit pines in want and obscurity; there the bent of the soul is mistaken, and the injudicious and arbitrary will of a parent or guardian forces it into that line, where its lustre is darkened and its powers fail. For the human mind, in spite of the pride of wisdom, and vanity of self-complacency, is confined to a narrow sphere, though some men by the universality of their attainments, and versatility of their powers, seem to contradict this assertion; yet, those instances are so rare, as scarce to form an exception to the general rule. Newton is great as an astronomer, and Chatham as a statesman, when confined to their own proper paths, their abilities are wonderful, their glory consequently great; but place a Chatham at the astronomical calculation of a Newton, or a Newton at the helm of state, their respective worth is immediately lost, and they both would sink to the level of common mortals. Genius then, if not totally buried, is often perverted, and its powers rendered ineffectual. Pope observed of a certain illustrious character, “How sweet an Ovid in a Murray lost," and it is not to be doubted, but that the abilities of many have been equally distorted from their natural bent. I am inclined to think, that the maxim "That as the twig is bent the tree's inclin❜d," is not universally though generally true. Rather like a tree forced from its natural situation, it will, when left to the exercise of its own powers, recoil with the greater violence. We may remember that Addison was made a secretary of state, and Swift, if he had listened to king William, would have been a cornet of horse. How little the talents of the one were adapted to his office is well known; what a figure the author of the Tale of the Tub would have made as a cornet, I leave to my readers to judge. The attic elegance and polished wit of Addison was lost amidst the turbulence of state intrigues; and the keen, sarcastic genius of Swift was by no means fitted for the camp; unless it can be proved, that humour can gain a battle, or satire take a town. A. No. 11. MONDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1787. Res gestæ regumque, ducumque, et tristia bella, By Homer taught the modern poet sings, HORACE. FRANCIS. THERE are certain forms and etiquettes in life, which, though the neglect of them does not amount to the commission of a crime, or the violation of a duty, are yet so established by example, and sanctioned by custom, as to pass into statutes, equally acknowledged by society, and almost equally binding to individuals, with the laws of the land, or the precepts of morality. A man guilty of breaking these, though he cannot be transported for a felon, or indicted for treasonable practices, is yet, in the high court of custom, branded as a flagrant offender against decorum, as notorious for an unprecedented infringement on propriety. There is no race of men on whom these laws are more severe than authors; and no species of authors more subject to them, than periodical essayists. Homer having prescribed the form, or, to use a more modern phrase, set the fashion of epic poems, whoever presumes to deviate from his plan, must not hope to participate his dignity and whatever method the Spectator, the Guardian, and others, who first adopted this species of writing, have pursued in their undertaking, is set down as a rule for the conduct of their followers; which, whoever is bold enough to transgress, is accused of a deviation from the original design, and a breach of established regulation. It has hitherto been customary for all periodical writers, to take some opportunity, in the course of their labours, to display their critical abilities, either by making observations on some popular author, and work of known character, or by bringing forth the performances of hidden merit, and throwing light on genius in obscurity. To the critiques of the Spectator, Shakespear, and more particularly, Milton, are indebted for no inconsiderable share of the reputation, which they now so universally enjoy; and by his means were the ruder graces, and more simple beauties of Chevy Chace held up to public view, and recommended to general admiration. I should probably be accused of swerving from the imitation of so great an example, were not I to take occasion to shew that I too am not entirely destitute of abilities of this kind; but that by possessing a decent share of critical discernment, and critical jargon, I am capable of becoming a very tolerable commentator. For the proof of which, I shall rather prefer calling the attention of my readers to an object, as yet untreated of by any of my immediate predecessors, than venture to throw in my obervations on any work which has before passed the ordeal of frequent examination. And this I shall do for two reasons; partly, because were I to choose a field, how fertile soever, of which many others had before me been reaping the fruits, mine would be at best but the gleanings of criticism; and partly, from a more interested view, from a selfish desire of accumulated praise; since, by making a work, as yet almost wholly unknown, the subject of my consideration, I shall acquire the reputation of taste, as well as judgment; of judiciousness in selection, as well as justness in obser vation; of propriety in choosing the object, as well as ́skill in using the language, of commentary. The Epic poem on which I shall ground my present critique, has for its chief characteristics, brevity and simplicity. The author,-whose name I lament that I am, in some degree, prevented from consecrating to immortal fame, by not knowing what it is the author I say, has not branched his poem into excressences of episode, or prolixities of digression; it is neither variegated with diversity of unmeaning similitudes, nor glaring with the varnish of -unnatural metaphor. The whole is plain and uniform; so much so indeed, that I should hardly be surprised if some morose readers were to conjecture, that the poet had been thus simple rather from necessity than choice; that he had been restrained not so much by chastity of judgment, as sterility of imagination. Nay, some there may be perhaps, who will dispute his claim to the title of an Epic poet, and will endeavour to degrade him even to the rank of a ballad-monger. Bitt İ, as his commentator, will contend for the dignity of my author; and will plainly demonstrate his peêm tó bẽ àh |