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The above dynamic suggests less individuation. Sensing reaches out to embrace that which physically touches it. ENTJs have an awareness of the real; of that which exists. Feeling is romantic, as the ethereal as the inner world from whence it doth emerge. When it be awake, feeling evokes great passion that knows not nuance of proportion nor context.

Perhaps these lesser functions inspire glorious recreational quests in worlds that never were, or may only ever be in fantasy. When overdone or taken too seriously, Fi turned outward often becomes maudlin or melodramatic. Feeling in this type appears most authentic when implied or expressed covertly in a firm handshake, accepting demeanor, or act of sacrifice thinly covered by excuses of lack of any personal interest in the relinquished item.

Franklin D. Introverted iNtuition The auxiliary function explores the blueprints of archetypal patterns and equips Thinking with a fresh, dynamic sense of how things work. Or infatuation. Or furious longing tinged with hope. But whatever it is, however you feel, now is the time to say so. Because if not now, then when? A study carried out by Asda - of course it was by Asda - found recently that teenage girls spend up to eight weeks searching for a dress to wear to their end-of-term prom.

Walter McKenzie

Twenty six and a half hours, to be precise. Of course, the idea of some market researcher loitering around a supermarket with a clipboard to check how long a girl has been idly fingering a shiny polyester frock is beautiful in itself. But it also speaks to just how seriously we take our end-of-term exit. How badly we want to impress our classmates.

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How hotly we long to be kissed in the corner of a carpark while the crickets sing. Far too many of us waste our precious years of carefree, wrinkle-free crushing by keeping it a secret. We hide that crush like a stain, bury it like stolen goods, throw it into the long grass in the desperate hope that nobody will notice. To the adolescent school pupil and blinking undergraduate alike, the end of term infatuation is a love that dares not speak its name. Part of the reason, of course, is fear of rejection. We are horrified by the idea that if we show someone the soft underbelly of our feelings then they will immediately dance across them in hobnailed boots.

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We may excuse a certain homeliness of language in the productions of ploughman or a milkwoman; but we cannot bring ourselves to admire it in an author, who has had occasion to indite odes to his college-bell, and inscribe hymns to the Penates. But the mischief of this new system, is not confined to the depravation of language only; it extends to the sentiments and emotions, and leads to the debasement of all those feelings which poetry is designed to communicate.


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It is absurd to suppose, that an author should make use of the language of the vulgar, to express the sentiments of the refined. His professed object, in employing that language, is to bring his compositions nearer to the true standard of nature; and his intention to copy the sentiments of the lower orders, is implied in his resolution to make use of their style. Now, the different classes of society have each of them a distinct character, as well as a separate idiom; and the names of the various passions to which they are subject respectively, have a signification that varies essentially, according to the condition of the persons to whom they are applied.

The love, or grief, or indignation of an enlightened and refined character is not only expressed in a different language but is in itself a different emotion from the love of, 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?


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  • 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 with 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 imporopriety that is ludicrous or disgusting: nay, he must speak in good verse, and observe all the graces on 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 conversation in the inferior orders of society. If there be any phrases that are not used in good society, they will appear as blemishes in the composition, no less palpably than errors in syntax or quantity; and if there be no such phrases, the style cannot be characteristic of that condition in life, the language of which it professes to have adopted.

    All approximation to that language, in the same manner, implies a deviation from that purity and precision, which no one, we believe, ever violated spontaneously.

    It has been argued, indeed, for men will argue in support of what they do not venture to practise , that as the middling and lower orders of society constitute by far the greater part of mankind, so, their feelings and expressions should interest more extensively, and may be taken, more fairly than any other, for the standards of what is natural and true. To this, it seems obvious to answer, that the arts that aim at exciting admiration and delight, do not take their models from what is ordinary, but from what is excellent; and that our interest in the representation of any event, does not depend upon our familiarity with the original, but on its intrinsic importance, and the celebrity of the parties it concerns.

    The sculptor employs his art in delineating the graces of Antinous or Apollo, and not in the representaiton of those ordinary forms that belong to the crowd of his admirers. When a chieftain perishes in battle, his followers mourn more for him, than for thousands of their equals that may have fallen around him. After all, it must be admitted, that there is a class of persons we are afraid they cannot be called readers , to whom the representation of vulgar manner, in vulgar language, will afford much entertainment.

    We are afraid, however, that the ingenious writers who supply the hawkers and ballad-singers, have very nearly monopolized that department, and are probably better qualified to hit the taste of their customers, than Mr Southey, or any of his brethren, can yet pretend to be.

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    To fit them for the higher talk of original composition, it would not be amiss if they were to undertake a translation of Pope or Milton into the vulgar tongue, for the benefit of those children of nature. There is another disagreeable effect of this affected simplicity which, though of less importance than those which have been already noticed, it may yet be worth while to mention: This is the extreme difficulty of supporting the same low tone of expression throughout, and the inequality that is consequently introduced into the texture of the composition. To an author of reading and education, it is a style that must always be assumed and unnatural, and one from which he will be perpetually tempted to deviate.

    He will rise, therefore, every now and then, above the level to which he has professedly degraded himself; and make amends for that transgression by a fresh effort of descension.

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    His composition, in short, will be like that of a person who is attempting to speak in an obsolete or provincial dialect; he will betray himself by expressions of occasional purity and elegance and exert himself to efface that impression, by passages of unnatural meanness or absurdity. In making these strictures on the perverted taste for simplicity that seems to distinguish our modern school of poetry, we have no particular allusion to Mr Southey, or the production now before us: on the contrary, he appears to us to be less addicted to this fault than most of his fraternity; and if we were in want of examples to illustrate the preceding observations, we should certainly look for them in the effusions of that poet who commemorates, with so much effect, the chattering of Harry Gill's teeth, tells the tale of the one-eyed huntsman who had a cheek like a cherry, and beautifully warns his studious friend of the risk he ran of 'growing double' A splenetic and idle discontent with the existing institutions of society, seems to be at the bottom of all their serious and peculiar sentiments.

    Instead of contemplating the wonders and the pleasure which civilization has created for mankind, they are perpetually brooding over the disorders by which its progress has been attended. They are filled with horror and compassion at the sight of poor men spending their blood in the quarrels of princes, and brutifying their sublime capabilities in the drudgery of unremitting labour.