cause of virtue; that while reason guides our path, fancy should strew it with flowers. It is the office of the one to discover where virtue lies; of the other to adorn, and render her pleasing and attractive.

It has been asserted by an eminent philosopher, that man is formed capable of conceiving perfection, though not of attaining it. Yet even this, perhaps, cannot be assented to, without great reserve. I suspect, that the powers of man are every way limited; that absolute perfection is as much beyond his conception, as his attainment. Certain it is, however, that he can form an idea of it much higher than he is able uniformly to act up to. And though his conduct cannot equal this standard, yet it will generally be found to bear some proportion to it. Hence the importance of raising the standard as high as possible; of exhibiting characters possessed of the most brilliant virtue, and purified as much as possible from every stain of imperfection.

*

The degree, in which a writer will succeed

* See note [B] at the end of the volume.

in these representations must depend both on his own genius and on the refinement which has taken place in the moral taste of the age. If duly qualified, however, for the task he has undertaken, he can seldom fail of drawing models of conduct higher than can be found in the life of any of his contemporaries and this seems to be all that is required.

Such, then, it would appear, are the advantages which may arise from works formed upon this plan, provided they be properly conducted, and not indulged in to excess. Many persons, however, have been of a different opinion; and have condemned all attempts to exhibit characters which rise in any degree above common life. It may be proper to consider some of the arguments which have been advanced in support of this opinion.

Some have thought it sufficient to observe, that no such characters were to be found in real life; that they were faultless monsters, which the world ne'er saw.' This argument is evidently founded upon the idea, that the

proper office of fiction is to give a faithful representation of human life; an idea which I have examined at length, in a former part of the work. Ishall only observe in addition, that, upon this supposition, the art of writing would be placed on a footing inferior to those of painting and statuary. We never reproach the painter for assembling, in one, the beauties of different landscapes; nor the sculptor for drawing finer forms than were ever moulded by the hand of nature. The mere copying of real objects is obviously an inferior department of these arts; while the other is that which has been always occupied by the great masters. But, if external forms may thus be embellished at pleasure, shall the painter of mind alone be reduced to the rank of a mere imitator? One striking difference which exists between them, is completely in favour of the latter. The former are merely objects of taste, and have obviously no tendency to produce any improvement on the form of the spectator. But, in the case of moral painting, a man both possesses a power, and naturally feels an impulse, to form himself to

some resemblance of the object which he ad mires.

It has been objected also, that such characters are not capable of being rendered very interesting. There is certainly ground for this objection, in regard to some of those which have been drawn even by writers of genius. The art of drawing imaginary perfect characters, like every other art, must be progressive and though many faults may be discovered in a few of the first, this affords no sufficient presumption against future attempts being attended with greater success. Two causes seem to have been chiefly instrumental in occasioning the defect here complained of. Writers have often considered perfection too much as a negative quality. They have been more anxious to render their heroes free from blame, than distinguished for active and virtuous exertion. Now, negative virtue is no doubt of great importance in itself. As, however, it leaves the character very incomplete, so, in narrative, the figure it makes is particularly insipid.

Another cause may be, that this perfect

character has been represented as too entirely governed by reason. That faculty has been made, not merely as it ought to be, the ruling, but the sole, principle of action; to the entire exclusion of imagination and feeling. This, as man is now constituted, cannot be considered as forming the perfection of his nature; and, in a work of this kind, it must be peculiarly ill calculated for interesting and affecting the reader. But, where the different faculties preserve their due proportions, and the situations are such, as to give them full opportunity of displaying themselves, I cannot think that, to persons of just taste, the character would appear insipid or uninteresting.

It might tend to obviate any danger of this kind, if, while the hero is not deficient in any good quality, he should possess some one in a peculiar and eminent degree. The virtue chosen for this purpose should be such as his circumstances and situation more particularly call for.

The next objection is, that characters raised very much above the ordinary level are