with the feveral Foreign Infufions of Thought and Language, and the particular Authors from whom they were borrowed. AFTER having thus far explained what is generally meant by a fine Tafte in Writing, and fhewn the Propriety of the Metaphor which is ufed on this Occafion, I think I may define it to be that Faculty of the Soul, which difcerns the Beauties of an Author with Pleasure, and the Imfections with Diflike. If a Man would know whether he is poffeffed of this Faculty, I would have him read over the celebrated Works of Antiquity, which have flood the Teft of fo many different Ages and Countries, or thofe Works among the Moderns which have the San ation of the Politer Part of our Contemporaries. If upon the Perufal of fuch Writings he does not find himself delighted in an extraordinary Manner, or if, upon reading the admired Paffages in fuch Authors, he finds a Coldness and Indifference in his Thoughts, he ought to conclude, not (as is too ufual among taftelefs Readers) that the Author wants those Perfections which have been admired in him, but that he himself wants the Faculty of discovering them. 1 HE fhould, in the fecond Place, be very careful to obferve, whether he taftes the diftinguishing Perfections, or, if Imay be allowed to call them fo, the Specifick Qualities of the Author whom he perufes; whether he is particularly pleafed with Livy for his Manner of telling a Story, with Salluft for his entering into thofe internal Principles of Action which arife from the Characters and Manners of the Perfons he defcribes, or with Tacitus for his difplaying thofe outward Motives of Safety and Intereft, which give Birth to the whole Series of Tranfactions which he relates. HE may likewife confider, how differently he is affected by the fame Thought, which prefents it felf in a great Writer, from what he is when he finds it delivered by a Perfon of an ordinary Genius. For there is as much Difference in apprehending a Thought cloathed in Cicero's Language, and that of a common Author, as in feeing an Object by the Light of a Taper, or by the Light of the Sun. IT is very difficult to lay down Rules for the Acquirement of fuch a Tafte as that I am here fpeaking of. The Faculty muft in fome degree be born with us, and it very often happens, that thofe who have other Qualities in Perfection are wholly void of this. One of the most eminent Mathematicians of the Age has affured me, that the greatest Pleasure he took in reading Virgil,, was in examining Eneas his Voyage by the Map; as I queftion not but many a Modern Compiler of Hiftory, would be delighted with little more in that Divine Author, than in the bare Matters of Fact. BUT notwithstanding this Faculty muft in fome meafure be born with us, there are feveral Methods for Cultivating and Improving it, and without which it will be very uncertain, and of little ufe to the Perfon that poffeffes it. The most natural Method for this Purpofe is to be converfant among the Writings of the moft Polite Authors. A Man who has any Relifh for fine Writing, either discovers new Beauties, or receives ftronger Impreffions from the Mafterly Strokes of a great Author every time he perufes him; Befides that he naturally wears himfelf into the fame manner of Speaking and Thinking." CONVERSATION with Men of a Polite Genius is another Method for improving our Natural Tafte. It is impoffible for a Man of the greatest Parts to confider any thing in its whole Extent, and in all its Variety of Lights. Every Man, befides thofe General Obfervations which are to be made upon an Author, forms several Reflections that are peculiar to his own manner of Thinking; fo that Conversation will naturally furnish us with Hints which we did not attend to, and make us enjoy other Mens Parts and Reflections as well as our own. This is the best Reafon I can give for the Obfervation which feveral have made, that Men of great Genius in the fame way of Writing feldom rife up fingly, but at certain Periods of Time appear together, and in a Body; as they did at Rome in the Reign of Auguftus, and in Greece about the Age of Socrates. I cannot think that Cornielle, Racine, Moliere, Boileau, la Fontaine, Bruyere, Boffu, or the Daciers, would have written fo well as they have done, had they not been Friends and Coptemporaries. IT is likewife neceffary for a Man who would form to himself a finished Tafte of good Writing, to be well verfed in the Works of the beft Criticks both Ancient and Modern. I must confefs that I could wish there were Authors of this kind, who beside the Mechanical Rules which a Man of very little Tafte may difcourfe upon, would enter into the very Spirit and Soul of fine Writing, and fhew us the feveral Sources of that Pleasure which rifes in the Mind upon the Perufal of a noble Work. Thus although in Poetry it be abfolutely neceffary that the Unities of Time, Place and Action, with other Points of the fame Nature, fhould be thoroughly explained and underflood, there is ftill fomething more effential to the Art, fomething that elevates and aftonishes the Fancy, and gives a Greatness of Mind to the Reader, which few of the Criticks befides Longinus have confidered. OUR general Tafte in England is for Epigram, Turns of Wit, and forced Conceits, which have no manner of Influence, either for the bettering and enlarging the Mind of him who reads them, and have been carefully avoided by the greatest Writers, both among the Ancients and Moderns. I have endeavoured in feveral of my Speculations to banish this Gothic Tafte, which has taken Poffeffion among us. I entertained the Town, for a week together, with an Effay upon Wit, in which I endeavoured to detect feveral of thofe falfe Kinds which have been admired in the different Ages of the World, and at the fame time to fhew wherein the Nature of true Wit confifts. I. afterwards gave an Inftance of the great Force which lyes in a natural Simplicity of Thought to affect the Mind of the Reader, from fuch vulgar Pieces as have little elfe befides this fingle Qualification to recommend them. have likewife examined the Works of the greatest Poet which our Nation or perhaps any other has produced, and particularized moft of thofe rational and manly Beau ties which give a Value to that Divine Work. I fhall next Saturday enter upon an Effay on the Pleafures of the Imagi, nation, which, though it fhall confider that Subject at large, will perhaps fuggeft to the Reader what it is that gives a Beauty to many Paffages of the finest Writers both in Profe and Verfe. As an Undertaking of this Nature is entirely new, I question not but it will be received with Candour. Friday, I. Dum foris funt, nihil videtur Mundius. Nec magis compofitum quidquam, nec magis elegans : Ter. ILL. HONEYCOMB, who difguifes his prefent: W Decay by vifiting the Wenches of the Town only by way of Humour, told us, that the last rainy Night he with Sir ROGER DE COVERLY was driven into the Temple Cloifter, whither had efcaped alfo a Lady moft exactly dreffed from Head to Foot. WILL made no Scruple to acquaint us, that fhe faluted him very familiarly by his Name, and turning immediately to the Knight, fhe faid, fhe fuppofed that was his good Friend, Sir ROGER DE COVERLY: Upon which no thing lefs could follow than Sir ROGER'S Approach to Salutation, with, Madam the fame at your Service. She was dreffed in a black Tabby Mantua and Petticoat, without Ribbons; her Linnen ftriped Muflin, and in the whole in an agreeable Second-Mourning; decent Dreffes being often affected by the Creatures of the Town, at once confulting Cheapnefs and the Pretenfions to Modefty. She went on with a familiar eafie Air. Your Friend, Mr. HONEYCOMB, is a little furprized to fee a Woman here alone and unattended, but I difmiffed my Coach at the Gate, and tripped it down to my Council's Chambers, for Lawyers Fees take up too much of a fmall difpute Joynture to admit any other Expences but meer Neceffaries. Mr. HONEYCOMB begged they might have the Honour of setting her down, for Sir ROGER'S Servant was gone to call a Coach.. In the Interim the Footman returned, with no Coach to be had; and there appeared appeared nothing to be done but trufting herself with Mr. HONEYCOMB and his Friend to wait at the Tavern at the Gate for a Coach, or to be fubjected to all the Impertinence fhe muft meet with in that publick Place. Mr. HONEYCOMB being a Man of Honour determined the Choice of the firft, and Sir ROGER, as the better Man, took the Lady by the Hand, leading through all the Shower, covering her with his Hat, and gallanting a familiar Acquaintance through Rows of young Fellows, who winked at Sukey in the State fhe marched off, WILL HONEYCOMB bringing up the Rear. MUCH Importunity prevailed upon the Fair one to admit of a Collation, where, after declaring fhe had no Stomach, and eaten a Couple of Chickens, devoured a Truffe of Sallet, and drunk a full Bottle to her Share, The fung the old Man's Wifh to Sir ROGER. The Knight left the Room for fome Time after Supper, and writ the following Billet, which he conveyed to Sukey, and Sukey to her Friend WILL, HONEYCOMB. WILL, has given it to Sir ANDREW FREEPORT, who read it laft Night to the Club. Madam, Am not fo meer a Country-Gentleman, but I can guefs at the Law-Bufinefs you had at the Temple. • If you would go down to the Country and leave off all your Vanities but your Singing, let me know at my Lodgings in Bow-ftreet Covent-Garden, and you fhall be encouraged by · Your humble Servant, ROGER DE COVERLY. MY good Friend could not well ftand the Rallery which was rifing upon him; but to put a Stop to it I deliver'd WILL. HONEYCOMB the following Letter, and defired him to read it to the Board. Mr. SPECTATOR, HAVING feen a Tranflation of one of the Chap. ters in the Canticles into English Verse inferted among your late Papers, I have ventured to fend you |