different language, but is in itself a different emotion from the love,
or grief, or anger, of a clown, a tradesman, or a market-wench. The
things themselves are radically and obviously distinct; and the
representation of them is calculated to convey a very different train of
sympathies and sensations to the mind. The question, therefore, comes
simply to be--which of them is the most proper object for poetical
imitation? It is needless for us to answer a question, which the
practice of all the world has long ago decided irrevocably. The poor and
vulgar may interest us, in poetry, by their _situation_; but never, we
apprehend, by any sentiments that are peculiar to their condition, and
still less by any language that is characteristic of it. The truth is,
that it is impossible to copy their diction or their sentiments
correctly, in a serious composition; and this, not merely because
poverty makes men ridiculous, but because just taste and refined
sentiment are rarely to be met with among the uncultivated part of
mankind; and a language, fitted for their expression, can still more
rarely form any part of their "ordinary conversation."

The low-bred heroes, and interesting rustics of poetry, have no sort of
affinity to the real vulgar of this world; they are imaginary beings,
whose characters and language are in contrast with their situation; and
please those who can be pleased with them, by the marvellous, and not by
the nature of such a combination. In serious poetry, a man of the
middling or lower order _must necessarily_ lay aside a great deal of his
ordinary language; he must avoid errors in grammar and orthography; and
steer clear of the cant of particular professions, and of every
impropriety that is ludicrous or disgusting: nay, he must speak in good
verse, and observe all the graces in prosody and collocation. After all
this, it may not be very easy to say how we are to find him out to be a
low man, or what marks can remain of the ordinary language of