Though an author of confiderable merit, he expreffes nothing with fimplicity. He feems to have thought it vulgar and beneath the dignity of a man of quality to speak like other men. Hence he is ever in bufkins; full of circumlocutions and artificial elegance. In every fentence we see marks of labour and art; nothing of that eafe which expreffes a fentiment coming natural and warm from the heart. He abounds: with figures and ornament of every kind; is fometimes happy in them; but his fondness for them is too visible; and, having once feized fome metaphor or allufion, that pleafed him, he knows not how to part with it. He poffeffed delicacy and refinement of taste in a degree that may be called exceffive and fickly; but he had little warmth of paffion; and the coldness of his character fuggefted that artificial and ftately man-ner which appears in his writings. No author is more: dangerous to the tribe of imitators than Shaftesbury; who amid feveral very confiderable blemishes, has many dazzling and impofing beauties.

It is very poffible, however, for an author to write: with fimplicity, and yet without beauty. He may be free from affectation, and not have merit. Beautiful fimplicity fuppofes an author to poffefs real genius; and to write with folidity, purity, and brilliancy of imagination. In this case, the simplicity of his manner is the crowning ornament; it heightens every other! beauty; it is the drefs of nature, without which all beauties are imperfect. But, if mere abfence of affectation were fufficient to conftitute beauty of ftyle, weak and dull writers might often lay claim to it. A diftinction therefore must be made between that:

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fimplicity which accompanies true genius and is en tirely compatible with every proper ornament of Hyle g and that which is the effect of careleffness.

Another character of ftyle, different from those already mentioned is vehemence. This always implies ftrength; and is not in any respect incompatible with fimplicity. It is diftinguished by a peculiar ardour; it is the language of a man whofe imagination and paffions are glowing and impetuous; who, neglecting inferior graces, pours himself forth with the rapidity and fulness of a torrent. This belongs to the higher kinds of oratory; and is rather expected from a mam who is fpeaking, than from one who is writing in his clofet. Demofthenes is the most full and perfect example of this kind of style.

Having explained the different characters of style, we fhall conclude our obfervations with a few direc tions for attaining a good ftyle in general

The first direction is, ftudy clear ideas of the subject on which you are to write or speak. What we' conceive clearly and feel strongly, we naturally exprefs with clearnefs and ftrength. We fhould therefore think clofely on the fubject, till we have attained a full and diftinct view of the matter which we are to clothe in words; till we become warm and interefted in it; then, and then only, fhall we find expreffion begin to flow.

Secondly, to the acquifition of a good style; frequency of compofing is indifpenfably neceffary. But it is not every kind of compofing that will improve ftyle. By a careless and hafty habit of writing, a bad ftyle will be acquired; more trouble will afterward be neceffa ry to unlearn faults, than to become acquainted with

DIRECTIONS FOR FORMING A PROPER STYLE. 119

the rudiments of compofition. In the beginning therefore we ought to write flowly and with much care. Facility and speed are the fruit of practice. We must be cautious, however, not to retard the course of thought, nor cool the ardour of imagination, by pausing too long on every word. On certain occafions a glow of compofition must be kept up, if we hope to exprefs ourfelves happily, though at the expenfe of fome inacA more fevere examination must be the work of correction. What we have written fhould be laid by some time, till the ardour of compofition be paft; till partiality for our expreffions be weakened, and the expreffions themfelves be forgotten; and then, reviewing our work with a cool and critical eye as if it were the performance of another, we fhall difcover many imperfections which at first escaped us.

curacies.

Thirdly, acquaintance with the ftyle of the beft authors is, peculiarly requifite. Hence a just taste will be formed, and a copious fund of words fupplied on every fubject. No exercife perhaps will be found more useful for acquiring a proper ftyle, than tranflating fome paffage from an eminent author into our own words. Thus to take, for inftance, a page of one of Addifon's Spectators, and read it attentively two or three times, till we are in full poffeffion of the thoughts it contains; then to lay afide the book;, to endeavour to write out the paflage from memory as well as we can; and then to compare what we have written with the ftyle of the author. Such an exercife will hew us our defe&s; will teach us to correct them; and, from the variety of expreffion which it will exhibit, will conduct us to that which is most beautiful.

Fourthly, caution must be used against servile imiDefire of imitating tation of any author whatever. hampers genius, and generally produces stiffness of expreffion. They who follow an author closely, commonly copy his faults as well as his beauties. No one will ever become a good writer or speaker, who has not fome confidence in his own genius. We ought carefully to avoid using any author's peculiar phrases, Such a habit and of transcribing paffages from him.

will be fatal to all genuine compofition. It is much better to have fomething of our own, though of moderate beauty, than to fhine in borrowed ornaments, which will at last betray the poverty of our genius.

Fifthly, always adapt your style to the subject, and likewife to the capacity of your hearers, if you are to speak in publick. To attempt a poetical style, when it should be our business only to reason, is in the highest. degree awkward and abfurd. To speak with elaborate pomp of words before those who cannot comprehend them, is equally ridiculous. When we are to write or fpeak, we should previously fix in our minds a clear idea of the end aimed at ; keep this steadily in view, and adapt our style to it.

Lastly, let not attention to style engross us so much as to prevent a higher degree of attention to the thoughts. This rule is more neceffary, fince the prefent taste of the age is directed more to style than to thought. It is much more eafy to drefs up trifling and common thoughts with some beauty of expreffion, than to afford a fund of vigorous, ingenious, and useful fentiments. The latter requires genius; the former may be attained by industry. Hence the crowd of writers who are rich in style, but poor in fentimenţ

Custom obliges us to be attentive to the ornaments of ftyle, if we wish our labours to be read and admired. But he is a contemptible writer, who looks not beyond the dress of language; who lays not the chief stress upon his matter, and employs not fuch ornaments of ftyle to recommend it, as are manly, not foppish.

CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF MR. ADDISON's STYLE IN No. 411 OF THE SPECTATOR.

HAVING fully infifted on the fubject of language, we shall now commence a critical analyfis of the style of fome good author. This will fuggeft obfervations, which we have not hitherto had occafion to make, and will fhow in a practical light the use of those which have been made.

Mr. Addifon, though one of the most beautiful writers in our language, is not the most correct; a circumftance which makes his compofition a proper fub. ject of criticism. We proceed therefore to examine No. 411, the firft of his celebrated effays on the pleafures of the imagination, in the fixth volume of the Spectator. It begins thus:

Our fight is the most perfect, and most delightful of all our fenfes..

This fentence is clear, precife and fimple. The author in a few plain words lays down the propofition, which he is going to illuftrate. A firft fentence fhould feldom be long, and never intricate.

He might have faid, cur fight is the most perfect and the most delightful. But in omitting to repeat the par

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