The freedom of construction which facilitates the formation of compounds had already in the earliest English period contributed to that special poetic diction which is a distinguishing mark of Anglo-Saxon verse, as indeed of all the old Germanic poetry; of the large number of words not used in Anglo-Saxon prose, very many are synonymous compounds meaning the same thing.[163] During the Middle English period, and especially before the triumph of the East Midland dialect definitely prepared the way for Modern English, it would seem that the language lost much of its old power of forming compounds, one explanation being that the large number of French words, which then came into the language, drove out many of the Old English compounds, whilst at the same time these in-comers, so easily acquired, tended to discourage the formation of new compounds.[164] It was not until the great outburst of literary activity in the second half of the sixteenth century that a fresh impetus was given to the formation of compound nouns and epithets. The large number of classical translations especially exercised an important influence in this respect: each new translation had its quota of fresh compounds, but Chapman’s “Homer” may be mentioned as especially noteworthy.[165] At the same time the plastic state of Elizabethan English led to the making of expressive new compounds of native growth, and from this period date some of the happiest compound epithets to be found in the language.[166] From the Elizabethans this gift of forming imaginative compounds was inherited, with even greater felicity by Milton, many of whose epithets, especially those of Type VII such as “_grey-hooded even_,” “_coral-paven floor_,” “_flowery-kirtled_ Naiades” reveal him as a consummate master of word-craft. With Dryden begins the period with which we are especially concerned, for it is generally agreed that from nearly every point of view the advent of what is called eighteenth century literature dates from the Restoration. During the forty years dominated by Dryden in practically every department of literature, the changes in the language, both of prose and poetry, which had been slowly evolving themselves, became apparent, and, as the sequel will show, this new ideal of style, with its passion for “correctness,” and its impatience of innovation, was not one likely to encourage or inspire the formation of expressive compounds; the happy audacities of the Elizabethans, of whose tribe it is customary to seal Milton, are no longer possible.