milar, or of caufes terminating by different operations in fome refemblance of effect. But the mention of another like confequence from a like cause, or of a like performance by a like agency, is not a fimile, but an exemplification. It is not a fimile to say that the Thames waters fields, as the Po waters fields; or that as Hecla vomits flames in Iceland, fo Ætna vomits flames in Sicily. When Horace fays of Pindar, that he pours his violence and rapidity of verfe, as a river fwoln with rain rushes from the mountain; or of himself, that his genius wanders in queft of poetical decorations, as the bee wanders to collect honey; he, in either case, produces a fimile; the mind is impreffed with the refemblance of things generally unlike, as unlike as intellect and body. But if Pindar had been defcribed as writing with the copious nefs and grandeur of Homer, or Horace had told that he reviewed and finished his own poetry with the fame care as Ifocrates polished his orations, inftead of fimilitude he wouldhave exhibited almost identity; he would: have given the fame portraits with different names. In the poem now examined, when the English are reprefented as gaining a for tified pafs, by repetition of attack and perseVOL. II. C.c verance 1 verance of refolution; their obftinacy of courage, and vigour of onfet, is well illuftrated by the sea that breaks, with inceffant battery, the dikes of Holland. This is a fimile: but when Addifon, having celebrated the beauty of Marlborough's perfon, tells us that Achil les thus was formed with every grace, here is no fimile, but a mere exemplification. A fimile may be compared to lines converging at a point, and is more excellent as the lines approach from greater distance: an exemplification may be confidered as two parallel lines which run on together without approximation, never far separated, and never joined. Marlborough is fo like the angel in the poem, that the action of both is almost the fame, and performed by both in the fame manner. Marlborough teaches the battle to rage; the angel directs the ftorm: Marlborough is unmoved in peaceful thought; the angel is calm and ferene: Marlborough ftands unmoved amidst the shock of hofts; the angel rides calm in the whirlwind. The lines on Marlborough are just and noble; but the fimile gives almoft the fame images a fecond time. But But perhaps this thought, though hardly a fimile, was remote from vulgar conceptions, and required great labour of research, or dexterity of application. Of this, Dr. Madden, a name which Ireland ought to honour, once gave me his opinion. If I had fet, said he, ten fchool-boys to write on the battle of Blenheim, and eight had brought me the Angel, I fhould not have been surprised. The opera of Rofamond, though it is feldom mentioned, is one of the firft of Addifon's compofitions. The fubject is wellchosen, the fiction is pleafing, and the praise of Marlborough, for which the scene gives an opportunity, is, what perhaps every human excellence must be, the product of goodluck improved by genius. The thoughts are sometimes great, and sometimes tender; the verfification is eafy and gay. There is doubtless some advantage in the fhortness of the lines, which there is little temptation to load with expletive epithets. The dialogue seems commonly better than the fongs. The two comick characters of Sir Trufty and Grideline, though of no great value, are yet fuch as the poet intended. Sir Trufty's account of the death of Rofamond is, I think, too grofsly Cc 2 grofsly abfurd. The whole drama is airy and elegant; engaging in its procefs, and pleafing in its conclufion. If Addifon had cultivated the lighter parts of poetry, he would probably have excelled. The tragedy of Cato, which, contrary to the rule obferved in felecting the works of other poets, has by the weight of its character forced its way into the late collection, is unquestionably the nobleft production of Addifon's genius. Of a work fo much read, it is difficult to fay any thing new. About things on which the public thinks long, it commonly attains to think right; and of Cato it has been not unjustly determined, that it is rather a poem in dialogue than a drama, rather a fucceffion of juft fentiments in elegant language, than a reprefentation of natural affections, or of any ftate probable or poffible in human life. Nothing here excites or affwages emotion; here is no magical power of raifing phantaftick terror or wild anxiety. The events are expected without folicitude, and are remembered without joy or forrow. Of the agents we have no care: we confider not what they are doing, or what they are suffering; we wish only to know what they have to fay. fay. Cato is a being above our folicitude; a man of whom the gods take care, and whom we leave to their care with heedlefs confidence. To the reft, neither gods nor men can have much attention; for there is not one amongst them that strongly attracts either affection or esteem. But they are made the vehicles of fuch fentiments and fuch expreflion, that there is scarcely a fcene in the play which the reader does not wish to imprefs upon his memory. When Cato was fhewn to Pope*, he advised the author to print it, without any theatrical exhibition; fuppofing that it would be read more favourably than heard. Addison declared himself of the fame opinion; but urged the importunity of his friends for its appearance on the ftage. The emulation of parties made it fuccefsful beyond expectation, and its fuccefs has introduced or confirmed among us the use of dialogue too declamatory, of unaffecting elegance, and chill philofophy. The univerfality of applaufe, however it * Spence. Cc3 might |