And thou shalt meet him, I said, son of the sightless Crothar! But let others advance before thee, that I may hear the tread of thy feet at thy return; for my eyes behold thee not, fair-haired Fovar-gormo! -He went; he met the foe; he fell. The foe advances towards Croma. He who slew my son is near, with all his pointed spears.

If a concise or nervous style be a beauty, tautology must be a blemish; and yet writers, fettered by verse, are not sufficiently careful to avoid this slovenly practice they may be pitied, but they cannot be justified. Take for a specimen the following instances, from the best poet, for versification at least, that England has to boast of.

High on his helm celestial lightnings play,
His beamy shield emits a living ray,

Th' unweary'd blaze incessant streams supplies,
Like the red star that fires th' autumnal skies.

Strength and omnipotence invest thy throne.

So silent fountains, from a rock's tall head,
In sable streams soft trickling waters shed.

His clanging armour rung.

Iliad, v. 5.

Iliad, viii. 576.

Fear on their cheek, and horror in their eye.

The blaze of armour flash'd against the day.

Iliad, ix. 19.

Iliad, xii. 94.

Iliad, xv. 4.

Iliad, xvii. 736.

As when the piercing blasts of Boreas blow.

Iliad, xix. 380.

And like the moon, the broad refulgent shield
Blaz'd with long rays, and gleam'd athwart the field.

Iliad, xix. 402.

No-could our swiftness o'er the winds prevail,
Or beat the pinions of the western gale,
All were in vain

Iliad, xix. 460.

Iliad, xxiii. 829.

The humid sweat from every pore descends.

Redundant epithets, such as humid in the last citation, are by Quintilian disallowed to orators; but indulged to poets,* because his favourite poets, in a few instances, are reduced to such epithets for the sake of versification; for instance, Prata canis albicant pruinis of Horace, and liquidos fontes of Virgil.

As an apology for such careless expressions, it may well suffice, that Pope, in submitting to be a translator, acts below his genius. In a translation, it is hard to require the same spirit or accuracy, that is cheerfully bestowed on an original work. And to support the reputation of that author, I shall give some instances from Virgil and Horace, more faulty by redundancy than any of those above mentioned:

Sæpe etiam immensum cœlo venit agmen aquarum,
Et Fœdam glomerant tempestatem imbribus atris
Collectæ ex alto nubes : ruit arduus ether,

Et pluviâ ingenti sata læta, boumque labores
Diluit.

Georg. lib. i. 322.

Postquam altum tenuere rates, nec jam amplius ullæ
Apparent terræ; cœlum undique et undique pontus:
Tum mihi cœruleus supra caput astitit imber,

Noctem hyememque ferens: et inhorruit unda tenebris.

Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se
Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus aures.

Satir. lib. I. sat. x. 9.

1 close this chapter with a curious inquiry. An • object, however ugly to the sight, is far from being so when represented by colours or by words. What is the cause of this difference? With respect to painting, the cause is obvious: a good picture, whatever the subject be, is agreeable by the pleasure we take in imitation; and this pleasure overbalancing the disagreeableness of the subject, makes the picture upon the whole agreeable. With respect to the description of an ugly object, the cause follows. To connect individuals in the social state, no particular contributes more than language, by the power it possesses of an expeditious communication of thought, and a lively representation of transactions. But nature hath not been satisfied to recommend language by its utility merely: independent of utility, it is made susceptible of many beauties, which are directly felt, without any intervening reflection.* And this unfolds the mystery; for the pleasure of language is so great, as in a lively description to overbalance the disagreeableness of the image raised by it.† This, however, is no encouragement to choose a disagreeable subject; for the pleasure is incomparably greater where the subject and the description are both of them agreeable.

The following description is upon the whole agreeable, though the subject described is in itself dismal :

Nine times the space that measures day and night
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew

Lay vanquish'd rolling in the fiery gulf,

Confounded though immortal! but his doom

See Chapter XVIII.

+ See Chapter II. Part iv.

Reserv'd him to more wrath; for now the thought
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain

Torments him; round he throws his baleful eyes
That witness'd huge affliction and dismay,
Mix'd with obdurate pride and steadfast hate:
At once as far as angels ken he views
The dismal situation waste and wild:
A dungeon horrible, on all sides round

As one great furnace flam'd; yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Serv'd only to discover sights of wo,

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all; but torture without end
Still urges, and fiery deluge, fed

With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed!
Such place eternal justice had prepar'd
For those rebellious.

Paradise Lost, book i. l. 50.

An unmanly depression of spirits in time of danger is not an agreeable sight; and yet a fine description or representation of it will be relished:

K. Richard. What must the King do now? must he submit?

The King shall do it: must he be depos'd?

The king shall be contented: must he lose

The name of King? i' God's name, let it go:
I'll give my jewels for a set of beads;
My gorgeous palace for a hermitage;
My gay apparel, for an almsman's gown;
My figur'd goblets. for a dish of wood;
My sceptre, for a palmer's walking-staff;
My subjects, for a pair of carved saints;
And my large kingdom for a little grave;
A little, little grave ;-
Or, I'll be bury'd in the King's highway;
Some way of common tread, where subjects' feet
May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
For on my heart they tread now, whilst I live;
And bury'd once, why not upon my head?

-an obscure grave.

Richard II. Act III. Sc. 6.

Objects that strike terror in a spectator, have in poetry and painting a fine effect. The picture by

raising a slight emotion of terror, agitates the mind; and in that condition every beauty makes a deep impression. May not contrast heighten the pleasure, by opposing our present security to the danger of encountering the object represented?

The other shape,

If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;

Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd,
For each seem'd either; black it stood as night,
Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell,

And shook a dreadful dart.

Paradise Lost, book ii. l. 666.

Now storming fury rose,

And clamour such as heard in heaven till now
Was never arms on armour clashing bray'd
Horrible discord, and the madding wheels
Of brazen chariots rag'd; dire was the noise
Of conflict: overhead the dismal hiss
Of fiery darts in flaming vollies flew,
And flying vaulted either host with fire.
So under fiery cope together rush'd
Both battles main, with ruinous assault
And inextinguishable rage: all heaven
Resounded; and had earth been then, all earth
Had to her centre shook.

Ghost.

Paradise Lost, book vi. l. 207.

But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison-house,

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotty and combined locks to part,

And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:
But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood.