because hyperbole is apt to disfigure the truth, and because integrity and judgement suit but ill with the raptures of imagination; and because also elevations of the pen make it in some measure difficult for ignorant people to comprehend the relation. That tedious, hyperbolic, and pompous description, which Claudian gives of the avarice of Rufinus, does not appear so admirable to me as the short, energic, lively, and natural phrases, with which Tacitus characterizes in its full extent the misery and meaness of Galba: _Pecuniæ alienæ non cupidus, suæ parcus, publicæ avarus._ Nor does the elegant colouring, with which Ovid has painted the triumphs of vice in the iron age, appear to me equal to the profundity of that sentence, with which Livy laments the compleat and ultimate corruption of the Roman people: _Ad hæc tempora perventum est, quibus nec vitia nostra possumus pati, nec remedia._ SECT. VI. XIV. The last danger of elevation of stile consists in the difficulty of supporting it. But it appears to me, that the censure which is commonly passed in this respect is unjust. I have known many, who have been very scrupulous in examining whether the stile was equal, and have been very liberal in the praises of those who preserved this quality, and very free of their abuse of those who have been deficient in it. They are very exact in noting, whether an author falls, or rises it; when they ought rather to attend to the thing the pen is describing. It would be very wonderful if he should fall, who is always creeping close to the ground; and, indeed, whence can he fall from, if he is never elevated? It should be considered, on the other hand, that descending and falling are two very different things. He who takes a flight is not obliged to pursue his course at the same height or on the same level to which he rose; for he may descend at his pleasure, as even the eagles do the same. And of what consequence is his descending a little, since he always continues much superior to him who never rises off the ground? The very caution of those, who are so careful about not falling, proves, that they never will attempt rising to any dangerous height, for this scrupulous vigilance is not natural to sublime spirits, as they are apt to mount on the wings of the wind, and leave to imagination the route they shall pursue. They do not strive to support themselves at the point of altitude to which they rose, as the appearance of such an endeavour would give a distasteful air to the stile; for a becoming negligence is less disgusting than a forced elevation. It ought also to be considered, that the same happy manner of expressing himself does not occur to a man at all times alike; and what is he to do in such a case? give a loose to the pen, till it happens to fall upon phrases equally energic, and delicate with the antecedent? What labour can be supposed more ridiculous than that of an author, who