EXERCISES

Ye distant spires! ye antique towers!That crown the watery glade,Where grateful Science still adoresHer Henry’s holy shade;And ye that from the stately browOf Windsor’s heights the expanse belowOf grove, of lawn, of mead survey,Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers amongWanders the hoary Thames alongHis silver-winding way.Gray,Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College

Ye distant spires! ye antique towers!

That crown the watery glade,

Where grateful Science still adores

Her Henry’s holy shade;

And ye that from the stately brow

Of Windsor’s heights the expanse below

Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey,

Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among

Wanders the hoary Thames along

His silver-winding way.

Gray,Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College

In this verse there are the conventional personifications of Science and the Thames, and such stock phrases as “the watery glade.” The whole poem, however, is infused with a new spirit of mingled energy and meditation.

As the century draws to a close we have many of the newer styles appearing: the more regular blank verse of Cowper; the lighter heroic couplet of Goldsmith; the archaic medley of Chatterton; and the intense simplicity of Burns and Blake. As a further example of the new manner we quote a few stanzas from a poem by Fergusson, who, dying in the year 1774 (ten years before the death of Johnson), wrote as naturally as Burns himself:

As simmer rains bring simmer flowers,And leaves to cleed the birken bowers;Sae beauty gets by caller showersSae rich a bloom,As for estate, or heavy dowersAft stands in room.What makes auld Reekie’s dames so fairIt canna be the halesome air;But caller burn, beyond compare,The best o’ ony,That gars them a’ sic graces skair[171]An’ blink sae bonny.On Mayday, in a fairy ring,We’ve seen them roun’ Saint Anthon’s spring,Frae grass the caller dew-draps wring,To weet their e’en,An’ water, clear as crystal spring,To synd[172]them clean.Caller Water

As simmer rains bring simmer flowers,And leaves to cleed the birken bowers;Sae beauty gets by caller showersSae rich a bloom,As for estate, or heavy dowersAft stands in room.

As simmer rains bring simmer flowers,

And leaves to cleed the birken bowers;

Sae beauty gets by caller showers

Sae rich a bloom,

As for estate, or heavy dowers

Aft stands in room.

What makes auld Reekie’s dames so fairIt canna be the halesome air;But caller burn, beyond compare,The best o’ ony,That gars them a’ sic graces skair[171]An’ blink sae bonny.

What makes auld Reekie’s dames so fair

It canna be the halesome air;

But caller burn, beyond compare,

The best o’ ony,

That gars them a’ sic graces skair[171]

An’ blink sae bonny.

On Mayday, in a fairy ring,We’ve seen them roun’ Saint Anthon’s spring,Frae grass the caller dew-draps wring,To weet their e’en,An’ water, clear as crystal spring,To synd[172]them clean.Caller Water

On Mayday, in a fairy ring,

We’ve seen them roun’ Saint Anthon’s spring,

Frae grass the caller dew-draps wring,

To weet their e’en,

An’ water, clear as crystal spring,

To synd[172]them clean.

Caller Water

2. Prose.As in poetry, we have in prose many men and many manners. The simplest prose of the period is found chiefly in the works of the novelists, of whom Fielding and Smollett are good examples. Smollett’s prose, as in the following example, is almost colloquial in its native directness.

After we had been all entered upon the ship’s books, I inquired of one of my shipmates where the surgeon was, that I might have my wounds dressed, and had actually got as far as the middle deck (for our ship carried eighty guns) in my way to the cockpit, when I was met by the same midshipman, who had used me so barbarously in the tender: he, seeing me free from my chains, asked, with an insolent air, who had released me? To this question, I foolishly answered with a countenance that too plainly declared the state of my thoughts; “Whoever did it, I am persuaded did not consult you in the affair.” I had no sooner uttered these words, than he cried, “Damn you, I’ll teach you to talk so to your officer.” So saying, he bestowed on me several severe stripes, with a supple jack he had in his hand: and going to the commanding officer, made such a report of me, that I was immediately put in irons by the master-at-arms, and a sentinel placed over me.Roderick Random

Roderick Random

The excellent middle style of Addison, the prose-of-all-work, survives, and will continue to survive, for it is indispensable to all manner of miscellaneous work. Goldsmith’s prose is one of the best examples of the middle style, and so is the later work of Johnson, as well as the writings of the authors of miscellaneous prose already mentioned in this chapter. The following passage from Goldsmith shows his graceful turn of sentence and his command of vocabulary. The style is clearness itself.

The next that presented for a place, was a most whimsical figure indeed. He was hung round with papers of his own composing, not unlike those who sing ballads in the streets, and came dancing up to the door with all the confidence of instant admittance. The volubility of his motion and address prevented my being able to read more of his cargo than the wordInspector, which was written in great letters at the top of some of the papers. He opened the coach-door himself without any ceremony, and was just slipping in, when the coachman, with as little ceremony, pulled him back. Our figure seemed perfectly angry at this repulse, and demanded gentleman’s satisfaction. “Lord, sir!” replied the coachman, “instead of proper luggage, by your bulk you seem loaded for a West India voyage. You are big enough, with all your papers, to crack twenty stage-coaches. Excuse me, indeed, sir, for you must not enter.”The Bee

The Bee

The more ornate class of prose is represented by theRambleressays of Johnson and the writings of Gibbon and Burke. Of the three Johnsonese is the most cumbrous, being overloaded with long words and complicated sentences, though it has a massive strength of its own. Gibbon bears his mantle with ease and dignity, and Burke has so much natural vitality that his style hardly weighs upon him at all; he does stumble, but rarely, whereas it is sometimes urged as a fault of the prose of Gibbon that it is so uniformly good that the perfection of it becomes deadening.

TABLE TO ILLUSTRATE THE DEVELOPMENT OF LITERARY FORMS

A fresh and highly interesting style is the poetic prose of Macpherson’sOssian. Macpherson’s style is not ornate, for it is drawn from the simplest elements; it possesses a solemnity of expression, and so decided a rhythm andcadence, that the effect is almost lyrical. In the passage now given the reader should note that the sentences are nearly of uniform length, and that they could easily be written as separate lines of irregular verse:

Her voice came over the sea. Arindal my son descended from the hill; rough in spoils of the chase. His arrows rattled by his side; his bow was in his hand; five dark grey dogs attend his steps. He saw fierce Erath on the shore; he seized and bound him to an oak. Thick wind the thongs of the hide around his limbs; he loads the wind with his groans. Arindal ascends the deep in his boat, to bring Daura to land. Amar came in his wrath, and let fly the grey-feathered shaft. It sunk, it sunk in thy heart, O Arindal my son; for Erath the traitor thou diedst. The oar is stopped at once; he panted on the rock and expired. What is thy grief, O Daura, when round thy feet is poured thy brother’s blood! The boat is broken in twain. Amar plunges into the sea, to rescue his Daura, or die. Sudden a blast from the hill came over the waves. He sunk, and he rose no more.

1. The first extract given below is in Johnsonese, the second is written in Johnson’s later manner. Compare the two with regard to their vocabulary and sentence-construction, and say which is the more ornate and which is the clearer and more vigorous. Which of the two do you prefer?

(1) In this work, when it shall be found that much is omitted, let it not be forgotten that much likewise is performed; and though no book was ever spared out of tenderness to the author, and the world is little solicitous to know whence proceeded the faults of that which it condemns, yet it may gratify curiosity to inform it, that the English Dictionary was written with little assistance of the learned, and without any patronage of the great; not in the soft obscurities of retirement, or under the shelter of academic bowers, but amid inconvenience and distraction, in sickness and in sorrow. It may repress the triumph of malignant criticism to observe, that if our language is not here fully displayed,I have only failed in an attempt which no human powers have hitherto completed. If the lexicons of ancient tongues, now immutably fixed, and comprised in a few volumes, be yet, after the toil of successive ages, inadequate and delusive; if the aggregated knowledge and co-operating diligence of the Italian academicians did not secure them from the censure of Beni; if the embodied critics of France, when fifty years had been spent upon their work, were obliged to change its economy, and give their second edition another form, I may surely be contented without the praise of perfection.Johnson,Preface to “Dictionary,”1755

Johnson,Preface to “Dictionary,”1755

(2) It is not to be inferred that of this poetical vigour Pope had only a little, because Dryden had more; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope; and even of Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs he has not better poems. Dryden’s performances were always hasty, either excited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestic necessity; he composed without consideration, and published without correction. What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope enabled him to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and to accumulate all that study might produce or chance might supply. If the flights of Dryden therefore are higher, Pope continues longer on the wing. If of Dryden’s fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope’s the heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight.Johnson,Lives of the Poets, 1780

Johnson,Lives of the Poets, 1780

2. Compare the following passage with the example of Johnsonese given in the last question. Which is the more abstract, and which is the more ornate? Is there any resemblance between the two in sentence-construction and vocabulary?

There are few great personages in history who have been more exposed to the calumny of enemies, and the adulation of friends, than Queen Elizabeth, and yet there is scarce any whose reputation has been more certainly determined by the unanimous consent of posterity. The unusual length of her administration, and the strong features of her character, were able to overcome all prejudices; and obliging her detractors to abate much of their invectives, and her admirers somewhat of their panegyrics, have at last, in spite of political factions, and, what is more, of religiousanimosities, produced an uniform judgment with regard to her conduct. Her vigour, her constancy, her magnanimity, her penetration, vigilance, address, are allowed to merit the highest praises, and appear not to have been surpassed by any person who ever filled a throne: a conduct less rigorous, less imperious, more sincere, more indulgent to her people, would have been requisite to form a perfect character. By the force of her mind, she controlled all her more active and stronger qualities, and prevented them from running into excess. Her heroism was exempt from all temerity, her frugality from avarice, her friendship from partiality, her active temper from turbulency and a vain ambition. She guarded not herself with equal care or equal success from lesser infirmities—the rivalship of beauty, the desire of admiration, the jealousy of love, and the sallies of anger.Hume,The History of England

Hume,The History of England

3. The following poetical extracts, which are arranged in chronological order, are meant to show the transition from the classical to Romantic methods. In each examine the subject, style, and the attitude of the author, and explain how the transition is revealed.

(1) For lo! the board with cups and spoons is crowned,The berries crackle, and the mill turns round:On shining altars of Japan they raiseThe silver lamp; the fiery spirits blaze:From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,While China’s earth receives the smoking tide;At once they gratify their scent and taste,And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.Straight hover round the fair her airy band:Some, as she sipped, the fuming liquor fanned;Some o’er her lap their careful plumes displayed,Trembling and conscious of the rich brocade.Pope,The Rape of the Lock, 1712

(1) For lo! the board with cups and spoons is crowned,

The berries crackle, and the mill turns round:

On shining altars of Japan they raise

The silver lamp; the fiery spirits blaze:

From silver spouts the grateful liquors glide,

While China’s earth receives the smoking tide;

At once they gratify their scent and taste,

And frequent cups prolong the rich repast.

Straight hover round the fair her airy band:

Some, as she sipped, the fuming liquor fanned;

Some o’er her lap their careful plumes displayed,

Trembling and conscious of the rich brocade.

Pope,The Rape of the Lock, 1712

(2) In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish stem,By the sharp tooth of cank’ring eld defaced,In which, when he receives his diadem,Our sov’reign prince and liefest liege is placed,The matron sate; and some with rank she grac’d,(The source of children’s and of courtier’s pride!)Redress’d affronts, for vile affronts there pass’d;And warn’d them not the fretful to deride,But love each other dear, whatever them betide.Right well she knew each temper to decry;To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise;Some with vile copper-prize exalt on high,And some entice with pittance small of praise;And other some with baleful sprig she frays;Ev’n absent, she the reins of power doth hold,While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways;Forewarn’d, if little bird their pranks behold,’Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold.Shenstone,The Schoolmistress, 1742

(2) In elbow-chair, like that of Scottish stem,

By the sharp tooth of cank’ring eld defaced,

In which, when he receives his diadem,

Our sov’reign prince and liefest liege is placed,

The matron sate; and some with rank she grac’d,

(The source of children’s and of courtier’s pride!)

Redress’d affronts, for vile affronts there pass’d;

And warn’d them not the fretful to deride,

But love each other dear, whatever them betide.

Right well she knew each temper to decry;To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise;Some with vile copper-prize exalt on high,And some entice with pittance small of praise;And other some with baleful sprig she frays;Ev’n absent, she the reins of power doth hold,While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways;Forewarn’d, if little bird their pranks behold,’Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold.Shenstone,The Schoolmistress, 1742

Right well she knew each temper to decry;

To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise;

Some with vile copper-prize exalt on high,

And some entice with pittance small of praise;

And other some with baleful sprig she frays;

Ev’n absent, she the reins of power doth hold,

While with quaint arts the giddy crowd she sways;

Forewarn’d, if little bird their pranks behold,

’Twill whisper in her ear, and all the scene unfold.

Shenstone,The Schoolmistress, 1742

(3) But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair,What was thy delighted measure?Still it whisper’d promis’d pleasure,And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail;Still would her touch the strain prolong;And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,She call’d on Echo still, through all the song:And, where her sweetest theme she chose,A soft responsive voice was heard at every close,And Hope enchanted smil’d, and wav’d her golden hair.Collins,The Passions, 1747

(3) But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair,

What was thy delighted measure?

Still it whisper’d promis’d pleasure,

And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail;

Still would her touch the strain prolong;

And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,

She call’d on Echo still, through all the song:

And, where her sweetest theme she chose,

A soft responsive voice was heard at every close,

And Hope enchanted smil’d, and wav’d her golden hair.

Collins,The Passions, 1747

(4) There often wanders one, whom better daysSaw better clad, in cloak of satin trimmedWith lace, and hat with splendid riband bound.A serving-maid was she, and fell in loveWith one who left her, went to sea, and died.Her fancy followed him through foaming wavesTo distant shores, and she would sit and weepAt what a sailor suffers; fancy, too,Delusive most where warmest wishes are,Would oft anticipate his glad return,And dream of transports she was not to know.She heard the doleful tidings of his death,And never smiled again.Cowper,The Task, 1785

(4) There often wanders one, whom better days

Saw better clad, in cloak of satin trimmed

With lace, and hat with splendid riband bound.

A serving-maid was she, and fell in love

With one who left her, went to sea, and died.

Her fancy followed him through foaming waves

To distant shores, and she would sit and weep

At what a sailor suffers; fancy, too,

Delusive most where warmest wishes are,

Would oft anticipate his glad return,

And dream of transports she was not to know.

She heard the doleful tidings of his death,

And never smiled again.

Cowper,The Task, 1785

(5) How sweet I roamed from field to field,And tasted all the summer’s pride;Till I the Prince of Love beheld,Who in the sunny beams did glide.He showed me lilies for my hair,And blushing roses for my brow:He led me through his gardens fair,Where all his golden pleasures grow.With sweet May-dews my wings were wet,And Phœbus fired my vocal rage;He caught me in his silken net,And shut me in his golden cage.He loves to sit and hear me sing,Then laughing, sports and plays with me;Then stretches out my golden wing,And mocks my loss of liberty.Blake,Songs of Innocence, 1789

(5) How sweet I roamed from field to field,And tasted all the summer’s pride;Till I the Prince of Love beheld,Who in the sunny beams did glide.

(5) How sweet I roamed from field to field,

And tasted all the summer’s pride;

Till I the Prince of Love beheld,

Who in the sunny beams did glide.

He showed me lilies for my hair,And blushing roses for my brow:He led me through his gardens fair,Where all his golden pleasures grow.

He showed me lilies for my hair,

And blushing roses for my brow:

He led me through his gardens fair,

Where all his golden pleasures grow.

With sweet May-dews my wings were wet,And Phœbus fired my vocal rage;He caught me in his silken net,And shut me in his golden cage.

With sweet May-dews my wings were wet,

And Phœbus fired my vocal rage;

He caught me in his silken net,

And shut me in his golden cage.

He loves to sit and hear me sing,Then laughing, sports and plays with me;Then stretches out my golden wing,And mocks my loss of liberty.Blake,Songs of Innocence, 1789

He loves to sit and hear me sing,

Then laughing, sports and plays with me;

Then stretches out my golden wing,

And mocks my loss of liberty.

Blake,Songs of Innocence, 1789

4. (a) Classify the styles of the following extracts into plain, ornate, or middle, and give reasons for your classification in each case. (b) How far does the style of each suit the subject? (c) Give a short account of each of the authors represented. (d) How far does the style in each case reveal the character of the author?

(1) Sir, your throne cannot stand secure upon the principles of unconditional submission and passive obedience; on powers exercised without the concurrence of the people to be governed; on Acts made in defiance of their prejudices and habits; on acquiescence procured by foreign mercenary troops, and secured by standing armies. These may possibly be the foundation of other thrones; they must be the subversion of yours. It was not to passive principles in our ancestors, that we owe the honour of appearing before a sovereign, who cannot feel that he is a prince without knowing that we ought to be free. The Revolution was a departure from the ancient course of the descent of this monarchy. The people, at that time, re-entered into their original rights; and it was not because a positive law authorised what was then done, but because the freedom and safety of the subject, the origin and cause of all laws, required a proceeding paramount and superior to them. At that ever-memorable and instructive period, the letter of the law was superseded in favour of the substance of liberty. To the free choice, therefore, of the people, without either king or parliament, we owe that happy establishment, out of which both King and Parliament were regenerated. From that great principle of liberty have originated the statutes, confirming and ratifying the establishment from which your majesty derives your right to rule over us. Those statutes have not given us our liberties; our liberties have produced them. Every hour of your majesty’s reign your title stands upon the very same foundation, on which it was at first laid; and we do not know a better, on which it can possibly be placed.Burke,Address to the King

Burke,Address to the King

(2) (Evelina, a demure young miss, is describing her experiences in a letter to her friend Miss Mirvan.)I burst into tears: with difficulty I had so long restrained them; for my heart, while it glowed with tenderness and gratitude, was oppressed with a sense of its own unworthiness. “You are all, all goodness!” cried I, in a voice scarce audible; “little as I deserve,—unable as I am to repay, such kindness,—yet my whole soul feels,—thanks you for it!”“My dearest child,” cried he, “I cannot bear to see thy tears;—for my sake dry them; such a sight is too much for me; think of that, Evelina, and take comfort, I charge thee!”“Say then,” cried I, kneeling at his feet, “say then that you forgive me! that you pardon my reserve,—that you will again suffer me to tell you my most secret thoughts, and rely upon my promise never more to forfeit your confidence!—my father!—my protector!—my ever-honoured,—ever-loved—my best and only friend!—say you forgive your Evelina, and she will study better to deserve your goodness!”He raised, he embraced me: he called me his sole joy, his only earthly hope, and the child of his bosom! He folded me to his heart: and while I wept from the fulness of mine, with words of sweetest kindness and consolation, he soothed and tranquillised me.Dear to my remembrance will ever be that moment when, banishing the reserve I had so foolishly planned, and so painfully supported, I was restored to the confidence of the best of men!Burney,Evelina

(2) (Evelina, a demure young miss, is describing her experiences in a letter to her friend Miss Mirvan.)

I burst into tears: with difficulty I had so long restrained them; for my heart, while it glowed with tenderness and gratitude, was oppressed with a sense of its own unworthiness. “You are all, all goodness!” cried I, in a voice scarce audible; “little as I deserve,—unable as I am to repay, such kindness,—yet my whole soul feels,—thanks you for it!”

“My dearest child,” cried he, “I cannot bear to see thy tears;—for my sake dry them; such a sight is too much for me; think of that, Evelina, and take comfort, I charge thee!”

“Say then,” cried I, kneeling at his feet, “say then that you forgive me! that you pardon my reserve,—that you will again suffer me to tell you my most secret thoughts, and rely upon my promise never more to forfeit your confidence!—my father!—my protector!—my ever-honoured,—ever-loved—my best and only friend!—say you forgive your Evelina, and she will study better to deserve your goodness!”

He raised, he embraced me: he called me his sole joy, his only earthly hope, and the child of his bosom! He folded me to his heart: and while I wept from the fulness of mine, with words of sweetest kindness and consolation, he soothed and tranquillised me.

Dear to my remembrance will ever be that moment when, banishing the reserve I had so foolishly planned, and so painfully supported, I was restored to the confidence of the best of men!

Burney,Evelina

(3) (The courtship of Tom Jones and Sophia Western is interrupted by the entrance of Sophia’s father, a bluff old squire.)At this instant, Western, who had stood some time listening, burst into the room, and with his hunting voice and phrase, cried out, “To her, boy, to her, go to her.—— That’s it, little honeys, O that’s it! Well! what, is it all over? Hath she appointed the day, boy? What, shall it be to-morrow or next day? It shan’t be put off a minute longer than next day, I am resolved.” “Let me beseech you, sir,” says Jones, “don’t let me be the occasion”—— “Beseech—,” cries Western. “I thought thou hadst been a lad of higher mettle than to give way to a parcel of maidenish tricks.—— I tell thee ’tis all flimflam. Zoodikers! she’d have the wedding to-night with all her heart. Would’st not, Sophy? Come, confess, and be an honest girl for once. What, art dumb? Why dost not speak?” “Why should I confess, sir?” says Sophia, “since it seems you are so well acquainted with my thoughts?”—— “That’s a good girl,” cries he, “and dost consent then?” “No, indeed, sir,” says Sophia, “I have given no such consent.”—“Andwunt not ha un then to-morrow, nor next day?” says Western.—— “Indeed, sir,” says she, “I have no such intention.” “But I can tell thee,” replied he, “why hast nut; only because thou dost love to be disobedient, and to plague and vex thy father.”—“Pray, sir,” said Jones, interfering—— “I tell thee thou art a puppy,” cries he. “When I forbid her, then it was all nothing but sighing and whining, and languishing and writing; now I am vor thee, she is against thee. All the spirit of contrary, that’s all. She is above being guided and governed by her father, that is the whole truth on’t. It is only to disoblige and contradict me.” “What would my papa have me do?” cries Sophia. “What would I ha thee do?” says he, “why gi’ un thy hand this moment.”—— “Well, sir,” says Sophia. “I will obey you.—There is my hand, Mr Jones.”Fielding,Tom Jones

(3) (The courtship of Tom Jones and Sophia Western is interrupted by the entrance of Sophia’s father, a bluff old squire.)

At this instant, Western, who had stood some time listening, burst into the room, and with his hunting voice and phrase, cried out, “To her, boy, to her, go to her.—— That’s it, little honeys, O that’s it! Well! what, is it all over? Hath she appointed the day, boy? What, shall it be to-morrow or next day? It shan’t be put off a minute longer than next day, I am resolved.” “Let me beseech you, sir,” says Jones, “don’t let me be the occasion”—— “Beseech—,” cries Western. “I thought thou hadst been a lad of higher mettle than to give way to a parcel of maidenish tricks.—— I tell thee ’tis all flimflam. Zoodikers! she’d have the wedding to-night with all her heart. Would’st not, Sophy? Come, confess, and be an honest girl for once. What, art dumb? Why dost not speak?” “Why should I confess, sir?” says Sophia, “since it seems you are so well acquainted with my thoughts?”—— “That’s a good girl,” cries he, “and dost consent then?” “No, indeed, sir,” says Sophia, “I have given no such consent.”—“Andwunt not ha un then to-morrow, nor next day?” says Western.—— “Indeed, sir,” says she, “I have no such intention.” “But I can tell thee,” replied he, “why hast nut; only because thou dost love to be disobedient, and to plague and vex thy father.”—“Pray, sir,” said Jones, interfering—— “I tell thee thou art a puppy,” cries he. “When I forbid her, then it was all nothing but sighing and whining, and languishing and writing; now I am vor thee, she is against thee. All the spirit of contrary, that’s all. She is above being guided and governed by her father, that is the whole truth on’t. It is only to disoblige and contradict me.” “What would my papa have me do?” cries Sophia. “What would I ha thee do?” says he, “why gi’ un thy hand this moment.”—— “Well, sir,” says Sophia. “I will obey you.—There is my hand, Mr Jones.”

Fielding,Tom Jones

(4) Thus kites and buzzards sail round in circles with wings expanded and motionless; and it is from their gliding manner that the former are still called in the north of England gleads, from the Saxon verbglidanto glide. The kestrel, or windhover, has a peculiar mode of hanging in the air in one place, his wings all the while being briskly agitated. Hen-harriers fly low over heaths or fields of corn and beat the ground regularly like a pointer or setting-dog. Owls move in a buoyant manner, as if lighter than the air; they seem to want ballast. There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must draw the attention even of the most incurious—they spend all their leisure time in striking and cuffing each other on the wing in a kind of playful skirmish; and, when they move from one place to another, frequently turn on their backs with a loud croak and seem to be falling to the ground. When this odd gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. Rooks sometimes dive and tumble in a frolicsome manner; crows and daws swagger in their walk; wood-peckers flyvolatu undoso, opening and closing their wings at every stroke, and so are always rising or falling in curves.White,The Natural History of Selborne

White,The Natural History of Selborne

5. The following are three examples of the heroic couplet, arranged in chronological order. Examine the meter, vocabulary, and subject of each, and state if any development is noticeable.

(1) Enlarge my life with multitude of days!In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays;Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know,That life protracted is protracted woe.Time hovers o’er, impatient to destroy,And shuts up all the passages of joy:In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour,The fruit autumnal and the vernal flow’r;With listless eyes the dotard views the store:He views, and wonders that they please no more.Now pall the tasteless meats and joyless wines,And Luxury with sighs her slave resigns.Johnson,The Vanity of Human Wishes, 1749

(1) Enlarge my life with multitude of days!

In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays;

Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know,

That life protracted is protracted woe.

Time hovers o’er, impatient to destroy,

And shuts up all the passages of joy:

In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour,

The fruit autumnal and the vernal flow’r;

With listless eyes the dotard views the store:

He views, and wonders that they please no more.

Now pall the tasteless meats and joyless wines,

And Luxury with sighs her slave resigns.

Johnson,The Vanity of Human Wishes, 1749

(2) Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,And still where many a garden flower grows wild:There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,The village preacher’s modest mansion rose.A man he was to all the country dear,And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;Remote from towns he ran his godly race,Nor e’er had changed, nor wished to change, his place;Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power,By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise.Goldsmith,The Deserted Village, 1770

(2) Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,

And still where many a garden flower grows wild:

There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose,

The village preacher’s modest mansion rose.

A man he was to all the country dear,

And passing rich with forty pounds a-year;

Remote from towns he ran his godly race,

Nor e’er had changed, nor wished to change, his place;

Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power,

By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;

Far other aims his heart had learned to prize,

More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise.

Goldsmith,The Deserted Village, 1770

(3) When Plenty smiles—alas! she smiles for few—And those who taste not, yet behold her store,Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore—The wealth around them makes them doubly poor.Or will you deem them amply paid in health,Labour’s fair child, that languishes with wealth?Go, then! and see them rising with the sun,Through a long course of daily toil to run;See them beneath the Dog-star’s raging heat,When the knees tremble and the temples beat;Behold them, leaning on their scythes, look o’erThe labour past, and toils to come explore;See them alternate suns and showers engage,And hoard up aches and anguish for their age;Then own that labour may as fatal beTo these thy slaves, as thine excess to thee.Crabbe,The Village, 1783

(3) When Plenty smiles—alas! she smiles for few—

And those who taste not, yet behold her store,

Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore—

The wealth around them makes them doubly poor.

Or will you deem them amply paid in health,

Labour’s fair child, that languishes with wealth?

Go, then! and see them rising with the sun,

Through a long course of daily toil to run;

See them beneath the Dog-star’s raging heat,

When the knees tremble and the temples beat;

Behold them, leaning on their scythes, look o’er

The labour past, and toils to come explore;

See them alternate suns and showers engage,

And hoard up aches and anguish for their age;

Then own that labour may as fatal be

To these thy slaves, as thine excess to thee.

Crabbe,The Village, 1783

6. We give first Johnson’s famous letter in which he refuses to accept the tardy patronage of Lord Chesterfield. Show how the style is appropriate to the subject, and howthe letter reveals the life and character of Johnson. Compare the style and temper of this letter with those of the one that follows. In this extract Horace Walpole describes the burial of George II. From this brief extract, what can you tell of the character of Walpole?

(1)

February 7, 1755My Lord,I have been lately informed, by the proprietor ofThe World, that two papers, in which myDictionaryis recommended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive or in what terms to acknowledge.When, with some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myselfle vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre,—that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so little encouraged that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your Lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.Seven years, my Lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before. The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks. Is not a patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help?The notice you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity, not to confess obligations when no benefit has been received; or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for myself.Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation toany favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation,My Lord,Your Lordship’s most humble, most obedient Servant,Sam. Johnson

February 7, 1755

My Lord,

I have been lately informed, by the proprietor ofThe World, that two papers, in which myDictionaryis recommended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive or in what terms to acknowledge.

When, with some slight encouragement, I first visited your Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myselfle vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre,—that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so little encouraged that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your Lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little.

Seven years, my Lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before. The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks. Is not a patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help?

The notice you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity, not to confess obligations when no benefit has been received; or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for myself.

Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation toany favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation,

My Lord,

Your Lordship’s most humble, most obedient Servant,

Sam. Johnson

(2)

Arlington Street,November 13, 1760... Do you know, I had the curiosity to go to the burying t’other night; I had never seen a royal funeral; nay, I walked as a rag of quality, which I found would be, and so it was, the easiest way of seeing it. It is absolutely a noble sight. The Prince’s Chamber, hung with purple, and a quantity of silver lamps, the coffin under a canopy of purple velvet, and six vast chandeliers of silver on high stands, had a very good effect. The Ambassador from Tripoli and his son were carried to see that chamber. The procession through a line of foot-guards, every seventh man bearing a torch, the horse-guards lining the outside, their officers with drawn sabres and crape sashes on horseback, the drums muffled, the fifes, bells tolling, and minute guns, all this was very solemn. But the charm was the entrance of the Abbey, where we were received by the Dean and Chapter in rich copes, the choir and almsmen all bearing torches; the whole Abbey so illuminated, that one saw it to greater advantage than by day; the tombs, long aisles, and fretted roof, all appearing distinctly, and with the happiest chiaroscuro. There wanted nothing but incense, and little chapels here and there, with priests saying mass for the repose of the defunct—yet one could not complain of its not being catholic enough. I had been in dread of being coupled with some boy of ten years old—but the heralds were not very accurate, and I walked with George Grenville, taller and older enough to keep me in countenance.Walpole

Arlington Street,November 13, 1760

... Do you know, I had the curiosity to go to the burying t’other night; I had never seen a royal funeral; nay, I walked as a rag of quality, which I found would be, and so it was, the easiest way of seeing it. It is absolutely a noble sight. The Prince’s Chamber, hung with purple, and a quantity of silver lamps, the coffin under a canopy of purple velvet, and six vast chandeliers of silver on high stands, had a very good effect. The Ambassador from Tripoli and his son were carried to see that chamber. The procession through a line of foot-guards, every seventh man bearing a torch, the horse-guards lining the outside, their officers with drawn sabres and crape sashes on horseback, the drums muffled, the fifes, bells tolling, and minute guns, all this was very solemn. But the charm was the entrance of the Abbey, where we were received by the Dean and Chapter in rich copes, the choir and almsmen all bearing torches; the whole Abbey so illuminated, that one saw it to greater advantage than by day; the tombs, long aisles, and fretted roof, all appearing distinctly, and with the happiest chiaroscuro. There wanted nothing but incense, and little chapels here and there, with priests saying mass for the repose of the defunct—yet one could not complain of its not being catholic enough. I had been in dread of being coupled with some boy of ten years old—but the heralds were not very accurate, and I walked with George Grenville, taller and older enough to keep me in countenance.

Walpole

7. From a scrutiny of the subject and style of the following extracts assign the authorship of each. State clearly the reasons that lead you to select the particular author. Write a brief appreciation of the style of each extract.

(1) Mr Davies mentioned my name; and respectfully introduced me to him. I was much agitated; and recollecting his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard much, I said to Davies, “Don’t tell where I come from.”—“From Scotland,” criedDavies, roguishly. “Mr Johnson,” said I, “I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help it.” I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as light pleasantry to soothe and conciliate him, and not as a humiliating abasement at the expense of my country. But however that might be, this speech was somewhat unlucky; for with that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable, he seized the expression “come from Scotland,” which I used in the sense of being of that country; and, as if I had said that I had come away from it, or left it, retorted, “That, sir, I find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot help.” This stroke stunned me a good deal; and when we had sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and apprehensive of what might come next.

(2) I have presumed to mark the moment of conception: I shall now commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June, 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen I took several turns in aberceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind, by the idea that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that, whatsoever might be the future fate of my history, the life of the historian must be short and precarious.

(3) An’ now, auld Cloots,[188]I ken ye’re thinkin,A certain Bardie’s rantin, drinkin,Some luckless hour will send him linkin,[189]To your black pit;But, faith! he’ll turn a corner jinkin,An’ cheat you yet.But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!O wad ye tak a thought an’ men’!Ye aiblins[190]might—I dinna ken—Still hae a stake—I’m wae to think upo’ yon den,E’en for your sake!

(3) An’ now, auld Cloots,[188]I ken ye’re thinkin,

A certain Bardie’s rantin, drinkin,

Some luckless hour will send him linkin,[189]

To your black pit;

But, faith! he’ll turn a corner jinkin,

An’ cheat you yet.

But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!O wad ye tak a thought an’ men’!Ye aiblins[190]might—I dinna ken—Still hae a stake—I’m wae to think upo’ yon den,E’en for your sake!

But, fare you weel, auld Nickie-ben!

O wad ye tak a thought an’ men’!

Ye aiblins[190]might—I dinna ken—

Still hae a stake—

I’m wae to think upo’ yon den,

E’en for your sake!

(4) “I fought just as well,” continued the Corporal, “when the regiment called me Trim, as when they called me James Butler.” ... “And for my own part,” said my uncle Toby, “though I should blush to boast of myself, Trim;—yet, had my name been Alexander, I could have done no more at Namur than my duty.” ... “Bless your Honour!” cried Trim, advancing three steps as he spoke, “does a man think of his Christian name when he goes upon the attack?” ... “Or when he stands in the trench, Trim?” cried my uncle Toby, looking firm.... “Or when he enters a breach?” said Trim, pushing in between two chairs.... “Or forces the lines?” cried my uncle, rising up, and pushing his crutch like a pike.... “Or facing a platoon?” cried Trim presenting his stick like a firelock.... “Or when he marches up the glacis?” cried my uncle Toby, looking warm and setting his foot upon his stool.

8. How far are the statements in the following passage correct? Give examples of what Macaulay refers to, and say if his remarks are exaggerated in any form.

Johnson came up to London precisely at the time when the condition of a man of letters was most miserable and degraded. It was a dark night between two sunny days.... A writer had little to hope from the patronage of powerful individuals. The patronage of the public did not yet furnish the means of comfortable subsistence.... If he had lived thirty years earlier he would have sat in parliament, and would have been entrusted with embassies to the High Allies.Macaulay

Macaulay

9. State how far the principles set out in the passage below are followed in the novel of the eighteenth century.

A novel is a large diffused picture, comprehending the characters of life, disposed in different groups and exhibited in various attitudes, for the purposes of an uniform plan. This plan cannot be executed with propriety, probability, or success, without a principal personage to attract the attention, unite the incidents, unwind the clue of the labyrinth, and at last close the scene, by virtue of his own importance.Smollett,Ferdinand, Count Fathom

Smollett,Ferdinand, Count Fathom

10. “The eighteenth century established a prose style.” (Craik.) Discuss this statement on some such lines as the following: (a) Was there no “established” style inprose before the eighteenth century? (b) Who “established” it then? (c) What are the peculiarities of the new prose style? (d) What are the purposes for which it was used? (e) Has it been perpetuated? (f) Who has used it?

11. Matthew Arnold calls Burns “a beast with splendid gleams.” Why a “beast”? And what does he mean by the “gleams”? Is the criticism fair to Burns?

12. Account for the great development of the novel during the eighteenth century.

13. Who are most obviously the “transitional” poets of the century? In what sense are they transitional?

14. Give a historical account of the rise of the lyric during the eighteenth century.

15. Estimate the influence of French learning and literature upon English literature during the eighteenth century.

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