more lively and awakening nature, than that produced by Beauty; but much fhorter in its duration. For, if the object have in itself no charms to hold our attention, the glofs, fpread over it by Novelty, foon wears off.

Imitation is another fource of pleasure to Tafte. This gives rife to what Addison terms the Secondary Pleasures of Imagination, which form a very extenfive clafs. For all imitation affords fome pleasure to the mind; not only the imitation of beautiful or fublime objects, by recalling the original ideas of beauty or grandeur, which fuch objects themselves exhibited; but even objects which have neither beauty nor grandeur; nay, fome which are terrible or deformed, give us pleasure in a fecondary or reprefented view.

The pleasures of melody and harmony belong alfo to Tafte. There is no delightful fenfation, we receive either from beauty or fublimity, which is not capable of being heightened by the power of mufical found. Hence the charm of poetical numbers; and even of the concealed and loofer measures of profe. Wit, humour, and ridicule, open likewise a variety of pleas- › ures to Tafte, altogether different from any that have yet been confidered.

At prefent it is not neceffary to pursue any farther the fubject of the Pleasures of Tafte. We have opened fome of the general principles; it is time now to apply them to our chief fubject. If it be asked, to what clafs of thofe Pleafures of Tafte, which have been enumerated, that pleasure is to be referred, which we receive from poetry, eloquence, or fine writing? The answer is, not to any one, but to them all. This peculiar advantage writing and difcourfe poffefs; they

encompass a large and fruitful field on all fides, and have power to exhibit in great perfection, not a single fet of objects only, but almoft the whole of those which give pleasure to tafte and imagination; whether that pleasure arise from fublimity, from beauty in its various forms, from: defign and art, from moral fentiments, from novelty, from harmony, from wit, humour, or ridicule. To which foever of these a person's taste is directed, from fome writer or other he has it always in his power to receive the gratification of it.

It has been usual among critical writers to treat of discourse, as the chief of all the imitative arts. They compare it with painting and with fculpture, and in many refpects prefer it justly before them. But we muft diftinguish between imitation and defcription. Words have no natural resemblance of the ideas or objects which they fignify; but a statue or picture, has a natural likeness of the original.

As far, however, as a poet or hiftorian introduces into his work perfons really speaking, and by words, which he puts into their mouths, represents the converfation which they might be fuppofed to hold; fo far his art may be called imitative; and this is the cafe in all dramatick compofition. But in narrative or defcriptive works it cannot with propriety be fo called. Who, for example, would call Virgil's defcription of a tempeft in the first Æneid an imitation of a ftorm? If we heard of the imitation of a battle, we might naturally think of fome mock fight, or representation of a battle on the ftage; but should never imagine it meant one of Homer's defcriptions in the Iliad. It must be allowed at the fame time, that imitation and defcription agree in their principal effect, that

of recalling by external figns the ideas of things which we do not fee. But though in this they coincide, yet it should be remembered, that the terms themselves are not fynonymous; that they import dif ferent means of producing the fame end; and confequently make different impreffions on the mind.

ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF LANGUAGE.

To form an adequate idea of the Origin of

Language, we muft contemplate the circumstances of mankind in their earliest and rudeft ftate. They were then a wandering, fcattered race; no fociety among them except families; and family fociety alfo very imperfect, as their mode of living, by hunting or pasturage, muft have feparated them frequently from each other. In fuch a condition, how could any one fet of founds or words be univerfally agreed on, as the figns of their ideas? Suppofing that a few, whom chance or neceffity threw together, agreed by fome means upon certain figns; yet, by what authority could these be fo propagated among other tribes or families, as to grow up into a language? One would imagine that men must have been previously gathered together in confiderable numbers, before language could be fixed and extended; and yet on the other hand there, feems to have been an absolute neceffity of speech previous to the formation of fociety. For by what bond could a multitude of men be kept together, or be connected in profecution of any com. mon intereft, before by the affistance of speech they

could communicate their wants and intentions to each other? So that, how fociety could fubfift previously to language, and how words could rife into language before the formation of fociety, feem to be points attended with equal difficulty. When we confider farther that curious analogy which prevails in the confruction of almoft all languages, and that deep and fubtile logick on which they are founded; difficulties increase fo much upon us on all fides, that there seems to be no small reason for referring the origin of all language to divine inspiration.

But fuppofing language to have a divine original, we cannot imagine that a perfect system of it was at once given to man. It is much more natural to fuppofe that God taught our first parents only fuch lan guage as fuited their present occafions; leaving them, as he did in other refpects, to enlarge and improve it as their future neceffities fhould require. Confequently, thofe rudiments of fpeech must have been poor and narrow; and we are at liberty to inquire, in what manner, and by what fteps, language advanced to the ftate in which we now find it.

Should we fuppofe a period exifted before words were invented or known; it is evident that men could have no other method of communicating their feelings, than by the cries of paffion, accompanied by fuch motions and geftures, as were farther expreffive of emotion. Thefe indeed are the only figns which nature teaches all men, and which are understood by all. One, who faw another going into fome place, where he himself had been frightened, or expofed to danger, and who wished to warn his neighbour of the danger, could contrive no other method of doing i

than by uttering those cries, and making those gestures, which are the figns of fear; as two men at this day would endeavour to make themselves understood by each other, if thrown together on a defolate ifland, ignorant of each other's language. Thofe exclamations, therefore, by grammarians called interjections, uttered in a strong and paffionate manner, were undoubtedly the elements of fpeech.

When more enlarged communication became requifite, and names began to be applied to objects; how can we fuppofe men proceeded in this application of names, or invention of words? Certainly by imitating, as much as they could, the nature of the object named by the found of the name given to it. As a painter who would reprefent grafs, muft employ a green colour;fo in the infancy of language one, giving a name to any thing harsh or boisterous, would of course employ a harsh or boisterous found. He could not do otherwife, if he defired to excite in the hearer the idea of that object which he wished to name. Το imagine words invented, or names given to things, without any ground or reafon, is to fuppofe an effect without a caufe. There must always have been some motive which led to one name, rather than another ; and we can fuppofe no motive, which would more generally operate upon men in their first efforts toward language, than a defire to paint by speech the objects which they named in a manner more or less complete, according as it was in the power of the human voice to effect this imitation.

Wherever objects were to be named, in which found, noife, or motion was concerned, the imitation by words was fufficiently obvious. Nothing was more