such praise may have his attention roused, and a desire excited, of
running in this great career, yet it is possible that what has been said
to excite, may only serve to deter him. He examines his own mind, and
perceives there nothing of that divine inspiration with which he is told
so many others have been favoured. He never travelled to heaven to
gather new ideas; and he finds himself possessed of no other
qualifications than what mere common observation and a plain
understanding can confer. Thus he becomes gloomy amidst the splendour of
figurative declamation, and thinks it hopeless to pursue an object which
he supposes out of the reach of human industry.

But on this, as upon many other occasions, we ought to distinguish how
much is to be given to enthusiasm, and how much to reason. We ought to
allow for, and we ought to commend, that strength of vivid expression
which is necessary to convey, in its full force, the highest sense of the
most complete effect of art; taking care at the same time not to lose in
terms of vague admiration that solidity and truth of principle upon which
alone we can reason, and may be enabled to practise.

It is not easy to define in what this great style consists; nor to
describe, by words, the proper means of acquiring it, if the mind of the
student should be at all capable of such an acquisition. Could we teach
taste or genius by rules, they would be no longer taste and genius. But
though there neither are, nor can be, any precise invariable rules for
the exercise or the acquisition of those great qualities, yet we may as
truly say that they always operate in proportion to our attention in
observing the works of nature, to our skill in selecting, and to our care
in digesting, methodising, and comparing our observations. There are
many beauties in our art, that seem, at first, to lie without the reach
of precept, and yet may easily be reduced to practical principles.