My Threadbare Coat is scorn'd by Liv'ry-John: 'Tis true, 'tis Threadbare—but it is my own.
The Turn, you see, is witty, and facetious! But how poor a Joke had it been, if the Poet had only said, however true it was, that the Clothes which Zoilus wore were not his own? But I fear, I transgress the very Rule I am recommending: I shall therefore add no more, than only to remind the Reader, that what I have said under another Head[184], might more properly come under this, viz. That the Mind of Man does not love to have too minute a Detail of Particulars; but takes a Pleasure in having Room for Imagination, and in forming a Judgment of what is not express'd, from what is.
And since I have casually mention'd Transitions, I would here observe, that the Elegance of them is equal to their Difficulty: The great Secret consists either in digressing of a sudden to some new Subject, and giving the Reader the Pleasure of a Surprize; and yet continuing on the Thread of the Discourse so artfully, that he may admire a Connection, where, at first, there seem'd to be none: Or in such a gradual Transition from Thought to Thought, of near Affinity with each other, that the Mind may be imperceptibly led to a very different Subject, without being sensible of the intermediate Steps of the Digression. Thus, in the Rainbow, the neighbouring Colours are so like each other, that 'tis hard to say where this ends, or that begins; yet there's a wide Difference, if we leave out the intermediate Shades, and compare the Rays of the two Extremes. My Meaning, perhaps, will appear clearer from Example. Horace begins his 29th Ode, of the third Book, in the following Manner:
Tyrrhena regum progenies, tibi Non ante verso lene merum cado, Cum flore, Mæcenas, rosarum, Pressa tuis balanus capillis Jamdudum apud me est, &c.
My noble Lord, of Royal Blood, That from the Tuscan Monarchs flow'd, I have a Cask ne'er pierc'd before; My Garlands wreath'd, my Crowns are made, My Roses pluck'd to grace thy Head; As fair and sweet as e'er Præneste bore.
Non est meum, si mugiat Africis Malus procellis, ad miseras preces Decurrere, & votis pacisci, Ne Cypriæ, Tyriæque, merces Addant avaro divitias mari: Tunc me biremis præsidio scaphæ Tutum per Ægæos tumultus Aura feret, geminusque Pollux.
When spreading Sails rough Tempests tear, I make no lamentable Pray'r; I do not bargain with the Gods, Nor offer costly Sacrifice To save my precious Tyrian Dyes From adding Riches to the greedy Floods. E'en 'midst these Storms I'll safely ride, My Bark shall stem the highest Tide, Tho' Tempests toss, and th'Ocean raves; Castor shall gather gentle Gales, And Pollux fill my spreading Sails, And bear me safe thro' the Ægæan Waves. Creech.
Between the Beginning and Ending, consider'd in themselves, how wide a Difference? And yet, if we examine the Gradation of Thought thro' the whole Ode, we shall see the most elegant Connection. In the Beginning, the Poet invites his Statesman Friend to Supper: "I have prepared every Thing for your Reception, says he; leave, for a While, the City, the Business and Riches of it; 'tis a Pleasure often to Men of high Station, to partake of the Change of Low Life. Forget Politics for a While, and be not over anxious for the Nation's Welfare. Providence conceals Futurity from us Mortals: Let us therefore, in Prudence, make the best of the present; all else is carry'd down by the Stream of Time, and what is past returns no more. Fortune is fickle; I am pleas'd, when she smiles; but disregard her Frowns, contented with Poverty and Virtue. Care is the inseparable Attendant of Riches; I compound to want the one, that I may be secure from the other. I have no Business, when Storms roar, to fall into Tears," &c. Behold a Chain connected, and yet conceal'd with the greatest Art.
Sometimes it is necessary that the Transition should appear open, and design'd; but often otherwise. In the following Passage, we shall see a Specimen of either Sort; I mean, of the formal, and of the sudden Transition. Turnus having, in the eleventh Æneis, had a good many Words with Drances, and in great Passion thrown out these, among the rest,