confifts of the following great leffons from their lord:

But with the early fun he rofe, and taught
These youths by growing Virtue to grow great,
Shew'd greatness is without it blindly fought,
A defperate charge which ends in base retreat.

He taught them fhame, the fudden sense of ill; Shame, nature's hafty confcience, which forbids Weak inclination ere it grows to will,

Or stays rash will before it grows to deeds.

He taught them Honour, Virtue's bashfulness;
A fort fo yieldless that it fears to treat;
Like power it grows to nothing, growing less;
Honour, the moral conscience of the great.

He taught them Kindnefs; foul's civility,

In which, nor courts, nor cities have a part; For theirs is fafhion, this from falfhood free,

Where love and pleasure know no luft nor art.

And Love he taught; the foul's ftol'n visit made Tho' froward age watch hard, and law forbid ;

Her

Her walks no fpy has trac'd, nor mountain staid;
Her friendship's caufe is as the load tone hid.

He taught them love of Toil; Toil which does keep
Obftructions from the mind, and quench the blood;
Eafe but belongs to us like fleep, and fleep,
Like opium, is our med'cine, not our food.

THE plot is at length involved in fo many intricate and apparently unfurmountable difficulties, that it is fcarce poffible to conceive a fatisfactory termination. Perhaps the poet was sensible of a want of power to extricate himself, and chofe thus to fubmit to a voluntary bankruptcy of invention, rather than hazard his reputation by going further. In his poftfcript, indeed, he excufes himfelf on account of fickness and approaching diffolution. However disappointed we may be by his abrupt departure from fcenes which he has filled with confufion, we ought not to forget the pleasures al

ready

ready received from them. "If (fays he to his reader, with more than the spirit of a dying man) thou art one of those who has been warmed with poetic fire, I reverence thee as my judge." From fuch a judicature, this NOBLE FRAGMENT, would, I doubt not, acquire for him what the critic laments his having loft," the poffeffion of that true and permanent glory of which his large foul appears to

have been full*."

*Difc. on Poetical Imitation.

AN

1

AN

ENQUIRY

INTO THOSE KINDS OF

DISTRESS

WHICH EXCITE

AGREEABLE SENSATIONS.

IT is undoubtedly true, though a phænomenon of the human mind difficult to account for, that the reprefentation of distress frequently gives pleasure; from which general obfervation many of our modern writers of tragedy and ro

mance

mance feem to have drawn this inference, that in order to please, they have nothing more to do than to paint diftrefs in natural and ftriking colours. With this view, they heap together all the afflicting events and difinal accidents their imagination can furnish; and when they have half broke the reader's heart, they expect he should thank them for his agreeable entertainment. An author of this clafs fits down, pretty much like an inquifitor, to compute how much fuffering he can inflict upon the hero. of his tale before he makes an end of him; with this difference, indeed, that the inquifitor only tortures those who are at least reputed criminals; whereas the writer generally chooses the most excellent character in his piece for the fubject of his perfecution. The great criterion of excellence is placed in being able to draw tears plentifully; and concluding

I