much turned towards invention, and the love of fiction. Their divinity, their philosophy, and their politics, were clothed in fables and parables. The Indians, the Persians, and Arabians, were all famous for their tales. The Arabian Nights' Entertainments are the production of a romantic invention, but of a rich and amusing imagination; exhibiting a singular and curious display of manners and characters, and beautified with a very humane morality. Among the ancient Greeks, we hear of the Ionian and Milesian Tales; but they have now perished, and, from any account that we have of them, appear to have been of the loose and wanton kind. Some fictitious histories yet remain, that were composed during the decline of the Roman empire, by Apuleius, Achilles Tatius, and Heliodorus bishop of Trica, in the fourth century; but none of them are considerable enough to merit particular criticisms.

During the dark ages, this sort of writing assumed a new and very singular form, and for a long while made a great figure in the world. The martial spirit of those nations, among whom the feudal government prevailed; the establishment of single combat, as an allowed method of deciding causes both of justice and honour; the appointment of champions in the cause of women, who could not maintain their own rights by the sword; together with the institution of military tournaments, in which different kingdoms vied with one another, gave rise, in those times, to that marvellous system of chivalry, which is one of the most singular appearances in the history of mankind. Upon this were founded those romances of knight-errantry, which carried an ideal chivalry to a still more extravagant height than it had risen in fact. There was displayed in them a new and very wonderful sort of world, hardly bearing any resemblance to the world in which we dwell. Not only knights setting forth to redress all manner of wrongs, but in every page, magicians, dragons, and giants, invulnerable men, winged horses, enchanted armour, and enchanted castles; adventures absolutely incredible, yet suited to the gross ignorance of these ages, and to the legends, and superstitious notions concerning magic and necromancy, which then prevailed. This merit they had, of being writings of the highly moral and heroic kind. Their knights were patterns not of courage merely, but of religion, generosity, courtesy, and fidelity; and the heroines were no less distinguished for modesty, delicacy, and the utmost dignity of manners.

These were the first compositions that received the name of

omances. The origin of this name is traced, by Mr. Huet, the learned bishop of Avranche, to the Provençal trabadours, a sort of story-tellers and bards in the county of Provence, where there subsisted some remains of literature and poetry. The language which prevailed in that country was a mixture of Latin and Gallic, called the Roman or Romance language; and, as the stories of these trabadours were written in that language, hence it is said the name of romance, which we now apply to all fictitious composition.

The earliest of these romances, is that which goes under the name of Turpin, the archbishop of Rheims, written in the eleventh century. The subject is, the achievements of Charlemagne and his peers or paladins, in driving the Saracens out of France and part of Spain; the same subject which Ariosto has taken for his celebrated poem of Orlando Furioso, which is truly a chivalry romance, as extravagant as any of the rest, but partly heroic, and partly comic, embellished with the highest graces of poetry. The romance of Turpin was followed by Amadis de Gaul, and many more of the same stamp. The crusades both furnished new matter, and increased the spirit for such writings; the Christians against the Saracens made the common groundwork of them; and from the eleventh to the sixteenth century, they continued to bewitch all Europe. In Spain, where the taste for this sort of writing had been most greedily caught, the ingenious Cervantes, in the beginning of the last century, contributed greatly to explode it; and the abolition of tournaments, the prohibition of single combat, the disbelief of magic and enchantments, and the change in general of manners throughout Europe, began to give a new turn to fictitious composition.

Then appeared the Astræa of D'Urfé, the Grand Cyrus, the Clelia, and Cleopatra of Madame Scuderi, the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney, and other grave and stately compositions in the same style. These may be considered as forming the second stage of romance writing. The heroism and the gallantry, the moral and virtuous turn of the chivalry romance, were still preserved; but the dragons, the necromancers, and the enchanted castles, were banished, and some small resemblance to human nature was introduced. Still, however, there was too much of the marvellous in them to please an age which now aspired to refinement. The characters were discerned to be strained; the style to be swoln; the adventures incredible; the books theruselves were voluminous and tedious.

Hence, this sort of composition soon assumed a third form, and from magnificent heroic romance, dwindled down to the

familiar novel. These novels, both in France and England, during the age of Louis XIV. and king Charles II. were in general of a trifling nature, without the appearance of moral tendency, or useful instruction. Since that time, however, somewhat better has been attempted, and a degree of reformation introduced into the spirit of novel writing. Imitations of life and character have been made their principal object. Relations have been professed to be given of the behaviour of persons in particular interesting situations, such as may actually occur in life; by means of which, what is laudable or defective in character and conduct, may be pointed out, and placed in an useful light. Upon this plan, the French have produced some compositions of considerable merit. Gil Blas, by Le Sage, is a book full of good sense, and instructive knowledge of the world. The works of Marivaux, especially his Marianne, discover great refinement of thought, great penetration into human nature, and paint with a very delicate pencil, some of the nicest shades and features in the distinction of characters. The Nouvelle Heloise of Rousseau is a production of a very singular kind in many of the events which are related, improbable and unnatural; in some of the details tedious, and for some of the scenes which are described justly blameable; but withal, for the power of eloquence, for tenderness of sentiment, for ardour of passion, entitled to rank among the highest productions of fictitious history

In this kind of writing we are, it must be confessed, in Great Britain, inferior to the French. We neither relate so agreeably, nor draw characters with so much delicacy; yet we are not without some performances which discover the strength of the British genius. No fiction, in any language, was ever better supported than the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. While it is carried on with that appearance of truth and simplicity, which takes a strong hold of the imagination of all readers, it suggests, at the same time, very useful instruction; by showing how much the native powers of man may be exerted for surmounting the difficulties of any external situation. Mr. Fielding's novels are highly distinguished for their humour; a humour which, if not of the most refined and delicate kind, is original, and peculiar to himself. The characters which he draws are lively and natural, and marked with the strokes of a bold pencil. The general scope of his stories is favourable to humanity and goodness of heart; and in Tom Jones, his greatest work, the artful conduct of the fable, and the subserviency of

all the incidents to the winding up of the whole, deserve much praise. The most moral of all our novel writers is Richardson, the author of Clarissa, a writer of excellent intentions, and of very considerable capacity and genius; did he not possess the unfortunate talent of spinning out pieces of amusement into an immeasurable length. The trivial performances which daily appear in public under the title of lives, adventures, and histories, by anonymous authors, if they be often innocent, yet are most commonly insipid; and though in the general it ought to be admitted that characteristical novels, formed upon nature and upon life, without extravagance and without licentiousness, might furnish an agreeable and useful entertainment to the mind; yet, considering the manner in which these writings have been for the most part conducted, it must also be confessed, that they oftener tend to dissipation and idleness, than to any good purpose. Let us now, therefore, make our retreat from these regions of fiction.

LECTURE XXXVIII.

NATURE OF POETRY-ITS ORIGIN AND PROGRESS

VERSIFICATION.

I HAVE now finished my observations on the different kinds of writing in prose. What remains is, to treat of poetical composition. Before entering on the consideration of any of its particular kinds, I design this lecture as an introduction to the subject of poetry in general; wherein I shall treat of its nature. give an account of its origin, and make some observations on versification, or poetical numbers.

Our first inquiry must be, What is poetry? and wherein does it differ from prose? The answer to this question is not so easy as might at first be imagined; and critics have differed and disputed much, concerning the proper definition of poetry. Some have made its essence to consist in fiction, and support their opinion by the authority of Aristotle and Plato. But this is certainly too limited a definition; for though fiction may have a great share in many poetical compositions, yet many subjects of poetry may not be feigned; as where the poet describes objects which actually exist, or pours forth the real sentiments of his own heart. Others have made the charac

teristic of poetry to lie in imitation. But this is altogether loose; for several other arts imitate as well as poetry; and an imitation of human manners and characters may be carried on in the humblest prose, no less than in the more lofty poetic strain.

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The most just and comprehensive definition which, I think, can be given of poetry, is," that it is the language of passion, or of enlivened imagination, formed, most commonly, into regular numbers." The historian, the orator, the philosopher, address themselves, for the most part, primarily to the understanding their direct aim is to inform, to persuade, or to instruct. But the primary aim of a poet is to please, aad to move; and, therefore, it is to the imagination, and the passions, that he speaks. He may, and he ought to have it in his view, to instruct and to reform; but it is indirectly, and by pleasing and moving, that he accomplishes this end. His mind is supposed to be animated by some interesting object which fires his imagination, or engages his passions; and which, of course, communicates to his style a peculiar elevation suited to his ideas; very different from that mode of expression, which is natural to the mind in its calm ordinary state. I have added to my definition, that this language of passion, or imagination, is formed, most commonly, into regular numbers; because, though versification be, in general, the exterior distinction of poetry, yet there are some forms of verse so loose and familiar, as to be hardly distinguishable from prose; such as the verse of Terence's Comedies; and there is also a species of prose, so measured in its cadence, and so much raised in its tone, as to approach very near to poetical numbers; such as the Telemachus of Fenelon; and the English translation of Ossian. The truth is, verse and prose, on some It is occasions, run into one another, like light and shade. hardly possible to determine the exact limit where cloquence ends, and poetry begins; nor is there any occasion for being very precise about the boundaries, as long as the nature of each is understood. These are the minutiae of criticism, concerning which, frivolous writers are always disposed to squabble; but The truth and which deserve not any particular discussion. justness of the definition, which I have given of poetry, will appear more fully from the account which I am now to give of its origin, and which will tend to throw light on much of what I am afterwards to deliver, concerning its various kinds.

The Greeks, ever fond of attributing to their own nation the