46. IN VERBIS ETIAM TENUIS, &c.] I have said, that these preparatory observations concerning an unity of design, the abuse of language, and the different colourings of the several species of poetry, whilst they extend to poetic composition at large, more particularly respect the case of the drama. The first of these articles has been illustrated in note on v. 34. The last will be considered in note v. 73. I will here shew the same of the second, concerning the abuse of words. For 1. the style of the drama representing real life, and demanding, on that account, a peculiar ease and familiarity in the language, the practice of coining new words must be more insufferable in this, than in any other species of poetry. The majesty of the epic will even sometimes require to be supported by this means, when the commonest ear would resent it, as downright affectation upon the stage. Hence the peculiar propriety of this rule to the dramatic writer,

In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis.

2. Next, it is necessary to keep the tragic style, though condescending, in some sort, to the familiar cast of conversation, from sinking beneath the dignity of the personages, and the solemnity of the representation. Now no expedient can more happily effect this, than what the poet prescribes concerning the position and derivation of words. For thus, the language, without incurring the odium of absolutely invented terms, sustains itself in a becoming stateliness and reserve, and, whilst it seems to stoop

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to the level of conversation, artfully eludes the meanness of a trite, prosaic style. There are wonderful instances of this management in the Samson Agonistes of Milton; the most artificial and highly finished, though for that reason, perhaps, the least popular and most neglected, of all the great poet's works.

47. DIXERIS EGREGIE, NOTUM SI CALLIDA VERBUM REDDIDERIT JUNCTURA NOVUM.-] This direction, about disposing of old words in such a manner as that they shall have the grace of new ones, is among the finest in the whole poem. And because Shakespear is he, of all our poets, who has most successfully practised this secret, it may not be amiss to illustrate the precept before us by examples taken from his writings.

But first it will be proper to explain the precept itself as given by Horace.

His critics seem not at all to have apprehended the force of it. Dacier and Sanadon, the two best of them, confine it merely to the formation of com→ pound words; which, though one way in which this callida junctura shews itself, is by no means the whole of what the poet intended by it.

Their mistake arose from interpreting the word junctura too strictly. They suppose it to mean only the putting together two words into one; this being the most obvious idea we have of the joining of words. As if the most literal construction of

terms, according to their etymology, were always

the most proper.

But Mr. Dacier has a reason of his own for confining the precept to this meaning. "The question, he says, is de verbis serendis; and therefore this junctura must be explained of new words, properly so called, as compound epithets are; and not of the grace of novelty which single words seem to acquire from the art of disposing of them.”

By which we understand, that the learned critic did not perceive the scope of his author; which was manifestly this. "The invention of new terms,

says he, being a matter of much nicety, I had " rather you would contrive to employ known words "in such a way as to give them the effect of new 66 ones. 'Tis true, new words may sometimes be necessary: And if so," &c. Whence we see that the line,

In verbis etiam tenuis cautusque serendis

is not given here in form as the general rule, and the following line as the example. On the other hand, the rule is just mentioned carelessly and in passing, while the poet is hastening to another consideration of more importance, and which he even opposes to the former. "Instead of making new "words, you will do well to confine yourself merely "to old ones." Whatever then be the meaning of junctura, it is clear we are not to explain it of such words as exemplify the rule de verbis serendis.

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But junctura will best be interpreted by the usage of Horace together with the context; 1. The word occurs only once more in this poet, and that in this very Epistle. It is where he advises a conduct with regard to the subject-matter of a poem, analogous to this concerning the language of it. Ex noto fictum carmen sequar —

tantum series juncturaque pollet. v. 242. Does he mean the joining two subjects together and combining them into one, so as that the compound subject shall be a new one? No such thing; "The subject, says he, shall be a known, an old one. Yet the order, management, and contrivance shall be such as to give it the air of an original fiction." Apply now this sense of junctura to words, and we are only told, that expression may be so ordered as to appear new, when the words, of which it is made up, are all known and common.

We have then the authority of the poet himself against the opinion of the French critic. But we have also the authority of his great imitator, or rather interpreter, Persius; who speaking of the language of his satires says, in allusion to this passage of Horace,

"Verba toga sequeris, juncturâ callidus acri.

S. v. 14.

i. e. he took up with words of common and familiar use, but contrived to bring them into his style in such a manner as to give them the force, spirit, and energy of satiric expression,"

2. Again the context, as I observed, leads us to this meaning. The poet in v. 42. had been giving his opinion of the nature and effect of method, or orderly disposition in the conduct of a fable. The course of his ideas carries him to apply the observation to words; which he immediately does, only interposing v. 46. by way of introduction to it.

On the whole then junctura is a word of large and general import, and the same in expression, as order or disposition, in a subject. The poet would say, "Instead of framing new words, I recommend to you any kind of artful management by which you may be able to give a new air and cast to old ones."

Having now got at the true meaning of the precept, let us see how well it may be exemplified in the practice of Shakespear.

1. The first example of this artful management, if it were only in complaisance to former commentators, shall be that of compound epithets; of which sort are,

High-sighted Tyranny
A barren-spirited fellow
An arm-gaunt steed

Flower-soft hands

Lazy-pacing clouds

J. C. A. II. S. 2.

A. IV. S. 1. A. C. A. 1. S. 6. A. II. S. 3.

R. J. A. 11. S. 2.

But

and a thousand instances more in this poet.

this is a small part of his craft, as may be seen by what follows. For this end is attained,