disciples, breathe a wisdom approaching to divine; and Cicero's book, de Oratore, is one of the noblest monuments of polished urbanity, as are many of his philosophical pieces of speculative wisdom.

But there prevails at present a taste for low and noisy mirth, which totally precludes all delicacy of sentiment, all exercise of reason and invention, and almost degrades us to the level of those ludicrous animals, whom nature has rendered so wonderfully expert in the art of mimicry. Many persons, who imagine themselves remarkably endowed with humour, and the power of delighting whatever company they deign to bless with their presence, are apt to give their tongues a license to wander without the reins of judgment, to affect uncommon expressions, attitudes, grimaces, and modes of address and behaviour; and to imagine that oddity is humour, eccentricity wit, downright nonsense prodigiously droll, and rudeness infinitely entertaining. If the company are as foolish as the pretended wit; or, indeed, if they are very polite and good natured, they seldom refuse the easy tribute of a laugh, either real or affected; and the joker, animated by his fancied encouragement, proceeds in his extravagant sallies, till his assumed folly approaches very nearly to real idiotism. In the mean time, as he draws the attention of the company on himself, and engrosses all the time and talk, he not only lowers himself, but prevents others from rising; relaxes the tone of his own mind and of all around to a state of imbecility, and at once prevents the opportunity and the power of uttering a single idea worth remembrance. Noise and laughter are but meagre food for the mind; and however pleased people may appear, they commonly retire from the company in which these have formed the only entertainment, with an unsatisfied and uneasy vacuity, with disgust and disagreeable reflection.

It very often happens that these facetious gentlemen rely upon more expeditious methods of becoming prodigiously entertaining than any thing which requires utterance. They enter a room, and sit down gravely, with their wigs on one side, or with the back part of it over their forehead. They take great delight in the practical joke; and if they can pick your pocket of your handkerchief, smut your face, draw your chair from under you, or make you a fool, as they call it, they consider themselves as other Yoricks, and as fellows of infinite humour, endowed with peculiar talents for setting the table on a roar. It might, indeed, be said with truth that they literally make fools of themselves, and appear ambitious of supplying that order which was once very common, but is now either a little out of fashion or introduced in disguise; I mean the order of professed and hireling fools, for the amusement of the nobility. It has indeed been jocularly said that many of the nobility, in the present age, execute the office in their own persons to save expense.

Now, though there were nothing criminal in buffoonery, yet as it tends, when too long continued, to weaken the faculties of the mind, to exclude all attention to any thing serious, and to divest conversation of its power of affording improvement, as well as pleasure, it is certainly to be wished that it were, in some measure, restrained. I say restrained only; for I do not know any just reason why any method of innocently amusing the mind, during a short interval of inaction should be utterly forbidden. Man is an animal that delights in variety; mirth and mimicry, jest and jollity, quips and cranks and wanton wiles; and laughter, holding both his sides, are certainly no less allowable as the means of relaxation than cards, backgammon, billiards, and the bottle. He is wise who requires moderation in all these indulgences; but he who inveighs against any

of them in the gross, and without exception, has taken a false estimate of human nature, and is not to be considered as a moralist, but as a declaimer. If any one rule will admit of universal application, it is that which directs us to observe the golden mean.

I could never admire the wisdom of certain selfelected legislators of graceful behaviour, who seem to forbid us to laugh, with much greater strictness than they would have prohibited the violation of the Decalogue. To be remarkable for laughing is not only ungraceful but a sign of folly. But God has distinguished man by the power of risibility, and there is no reason why he should not exercise it on proper occasions; and, perhaps, there would be no occasion more proper than when a disciplined fop shows, by his behaviour, that he prefers the varnish of external grace to honour and to honesty.

Wit, it has been said, does not naturally excite laughter. But this observation, though true in part, is not universally true; for wit, united with humour, possesses such a command of the risible muscles that he must be a stoic, or a very ill natured man, who is able to resist the impulse. I should, indeed, have no favourable opinion of that man's heart or disposition, who could be present at a truly comic scene without laying aside his severity, and shaking his sides with as much glee as the ingenuous child of nature. And if it is a weakness not to be able to refrain from laughter at a ludicrous object, it is a weakness of all others the most pardonable; and it is surely better to be weak than malignant. But, in truth, the weakness consists only in laughing immoderately or frequently without an adequate object.

In every convivial meeting of elegant and polished company, the Muses and the Graces should be of the party. The first honours and attention should be paid to them; but let not Comus and Jocus be forbidden to follow in their train, and under their com

mand. The entertainment will be thus heightened and varied, and good sense and decorum derive new lustre from good humour. We would, indeed, restrain that excessive and rude mirth which originates in levity and folly, and becomes what is called buffoonery; but far be it from us to banish that sprightliness which naturally results from the gaiety of innocence. Joy, while we are blessed with health and ease, and what the stoics call EUROIA, or the well flowing of the stream of life, is gratitude and obedience.

No. CXXVI.

On the Style of Xenophon and Plato.

WRITERS, who have displayed any of that uniform peculiarity in their style which renders it easily imitable, however popular they may become at their first appearance by gratifying the passion for novelty, are by no means the most perfect writers; but are to be classed with those artists of the pencil, whom the painters distinguish by the appellation of Mannerists. Simplicity of diction, as it is one of the most engaging beauties, is also one of the most difficult to imitate. It exhibits no prominency of feature, but displays one whole, properly embellished with a thousand little graces, no one of which obtrudes itself in such a manner as to destroy the appearance of a perfect symmetry. In this species of excellence Xenophon is confessedly a model. He has been called the Attic Muse and the Attic Bee. It has been said that the Muses would express themselves in his language, that his style is sweeter than

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honey, that the Graces themselves appear to have assisted in its formation; but though all this power is justly due, yet it would be difficult to point out any one beauty which recurs so often in the same form, as to characterize his composition.

But the numerous writers who have imitated the Rambler or the Adventurer are discovered in their affectation before the reader has perused a single page. The very peculiar manner of those excellent performances has been easily imitated by inferior writers, and more easily caricatured. Addison is simple and natural, and, consequently, has not often been mimicked with equal success. Indeed, the nearer we approach to the manner of Addison, the more agreeable is our style; but, I believe, none ever admired the style of the Rambler, but in the hands of its original author. The satirical writer of Lexiphanes easily rendered it ridiculous; and though, in some of Aikin's prosaic pieces, there is a very serious and good imitation of it, yet we are rather disposed to smile than admire. Affectation always borders on burlesque; but a manner which derives its graces from nature cannot be rendered ridiculous. The style of Xenophon, like the philosopher whom he records, is proof against the sportive and malignant buffoonery of an Aristophanes.

It is however certain that every beauty cannot be combined uuder one form. If the style of Xenophon displays grace, ease, and sweetness; it is deficient in magnificence, in weight, in authority, and in dignity. But it should be remembered that the Venus of Medici is not to be censured, because it wants the nerves and muscles of the Farnesian Hercules. It appears to me, however, that though some of the most popular writers of England yield to Xenophon in the softer graces, they greatly excel him in inasculine beauty. The authors of the Rambler, of the