hrough judgment, but feebleness, and who, instead of deviating
into error is continually falling short of excellence. The meer absence
of error implies that moderate and inferior degree of merit with which a
cold heart and a phlegmatic taste will be better satisfied than with the
magnificent irregularities of exalted spirits. It stretches some minds
to an uneasy extension to be obliged to attend to compositions
superlatively excellent; and it contracts liberal souls to a painful
narrowness to descend to books of inferior merit. A work of capital
genius, to a man of an ordinary mind, is the bed of Procrustes to one of
a short stature, the man is too little to fill up the space assigned
him, and undergoes the torture in attempting it: and a moderate, or low
production to a man of bright talents, is the punishment inflicted by
Mezentius; the living spirit has too much animation to endure patiently
to be in contact with a dead body.

TASTE sesms to be a sentiment of the soul which gives the bias to
opinion, for we feel before we reflect. Without this sentiment, all
knowledge, learning and opinion, would be cold, inert materials, whereas
they become active principles when stirred, kindled, and inflamed by
this animating quality.

THERE is another feeling which is called Enthusiasm. The enthusiasm of
sensible hearts is so strong, that it not only yields to the impulse
with which striking objects act on it, but such hearts help on the
effect by their own sensibility. In a scene where Shakespeare and
Garrick give perfection to each other, the feeling heart does not merely
accede to the delirium they occasion: it does more, it is enamoured of
it, it solicits the delusion, it sues to be deceived, and grudgingly
cherishes the sacred treasure of its feelings. The poet and performer
concur in carrying us

Beyond this visible diurnal sphere,

they bear us aloft in their airy course with unresisted rapidity, if
they meet not with any obstruction from the coldness of our own
feelings. Perhaps, only a few fine spirits can enter into the detail of
their writing and acting; but the multitude do not enjoy less acutely,
because they are not able philosophically to analyse the sources of
their joy or sorrow. If the others have the advantage of judging, these
have at least the privilege of feeling: and it is not from complaisance
to a few leading judges, that they burst into peals of laughter, or melt
into delightful agony; their hear