pression, for a real dignity of style: in proportion as nature is sublimer than art, so is that genuine greatness which is the result of an unaffected and appropriate language, above the reach of a tumid phraseology. The observation is as true of poetry as of prose; and whoever will take the pains to examine the single words of which some of the grandest passages of our great Milton are composed, will find that they are chiefly contained in the vocabulary of common life, and are taken, as it were, warm and breathing, from the daily intercourse of society, and the agitated commerce of busy scenes. By skilful combinations, and the charms of his rhythm, he has bestowed on these words an inconceivable force in their new situations; and it is easy to point out a multitude of places in the Paradise Lost, where the simple word bad appears with an unexpected lustre, and is really the most dignified and important in the line. I think my poetical readers will allow that what follows is some proof of the truth of this remark. "So numberless were those bad angels seen." i. 344, "Satan exalted sat, by merit rais'd To that bad eminence." ii. 6. v. 695. "So spake the false archangel, and infus'd x. 41. Though divided With that bad woman." x. 837. I shall conclude for to-day with two lines of Persius, which I shall apply to my own particular case, and which must serve for answer to those of my readers who may wish for a little more of modern point and antithesis, of flourish and of fustian, in this my unambitious undertaking: "Non equidem hoc studeo bullatis ut mihi nugis N° 79. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16. Assem para, et accipe auream fabulam. PLIN. Epist. A true and particular account of the life, character, and behaviour of, &c. My readers are here presented, according to my promise, with a specimen of modern BIOGRAPHY. Sheet omitted in B- 's Life of JOHNSON. April the 20th, I dined with him at sir J. R-'s. I regret that I have preserved but few minutes of his conversation on that day, though he was less talkative, and fuller of capriciousness and contradictions than usual; as the following dialogue may showwhilst at the same time it proves that there is no question so entirely barren of matter or argument, which could not furnish him an occasion of displaying the powers of his mighty mind. We talked of public places; and one gentleman spoke warmly in praise of Sadler's Wells. Mr. C, who had been so unfortunate as to displease Dr. Johnson, and wished to reinstate himself in his good opinion, thought he could not do it more effectually than by decrying such light amusements as those of tumbling and rope-dancing: in particular, he asserted that a ropedancer was in his opinion the most despicable of human beings.' Johnson (awfully rolling himself as he prepared to speak, and bursting out into a thundering tone), Sir, you might as well say that St. Paul was the most despicable of human beings. Let us beware how we petulantly and ignorantly traduce a character which puts all other characters to shame. Sir, a rope-dancer concentres in himself all the cardinal virtues.' "Well as I was by this time acquainted with the sophistical talents of my illustrious friend, and often as I had listened to him in wonder, while he made the worse appear the better reason,' I could not but suppose that, for once, he had been betrayed by his violence into an assertion which he could not support. Urged by my curiosity, and perhaps rather wickedly desirous of leading him into a contest, I ventured, leaning briskly towards him across my friend the duke of -'s chair, to say, in a sportive familiar manner, which he sometimes indulgently permitted me to use; Indeed, Dr. Johnson! did I hear you right? a rope-dancer concentre in himself all the cardinal virtues!' The answer was ready. Johnson. Why, yes, sir; deny it who dare. I say, in a rope-dancer there is Temperance, and Faith, and Hope, and Charity, and Justice, and Prudence, and Fortitude.' Still I was not satisfied; and was desirous to hear his proofs at full length.-Boswell. Why to be sure, sir, Fortitude I can easily conceive.—Johnson (interrupting me). Sir, if not conceive the rest, it is to no purpose that you conceive the seventh. But to those who cannot comprehend, it is necessary to explain. Why then, sir, we will begin with Temperance. Sir, if the joys of the bottle entice him one inch beyond the line of sobriety, his life or his limbs must pay the forfeit of his excess. Then, sir, there is Faith. Without unshaken confidence in his own powers, and full assu 6 you can rance that the rope is firm, his temperance will be of but little advantage: the unsteadiness of his nerves would soon prove as fatal as the intoxication of his brain. Next, sir, we have Hope. A dance so dangerous, who ever exhibited, unless lured by the hope of fortune or of fame? Charity next follows: and what instance of charity shall be opposed to that of him, who, in the hope of administering to the gratification of others, braves the hiss of multitudes, and derides the dread of death? Then, sir, what man will withhold from the funambulist the praise of Justice, who considers his inflexible uprightness, and that he holds his balance with so steady a hand, as never to incline, in the minutest degree, to one side or the other? Nor, in the next place, is his Prudence more disputable than his Justice. He has chosen, indeed, a perilous accomplishment; but, while it is remembered that he is temerarious in the maturity of his art, let it not be forgotten that he was cautious in its commencement; and that, while he was yet in the rudiments of rope-dancing, he might securely fail in his footing, while his instructors stood ready on either side to prevent or to alleviate his fall. Lastly, sir, those who from dullness or obduracy shall refuse to the rope-dancer the applauses due to Temperance, Faith, Hope, Charity, Justice, and Prudence, will yet scarcely be so desperate in falsehood. or in folly, as to deny him the laurels of Fortitude. He that is content to vacillate on a cord, while his fellow-mortals tread securely on the broad basis of terra firma; who performs the jocund evolutions of the dance on a superficies, compared to which, the verge of a precipice is a stable station; may rightfully snatch the wreath from the conqueror and the martyr; may boast that he exposes himself to hazards, from which he might fly to the cannon's |