Of affectation in style, which is opposed to simplicity, we have a remarkable instance in our language. Lord Shaftesbury, though an author of considerable merit, can express nothing with simplicity. He seems to have considered it as vulgar, and beneath the dignity of a man of fashion, to speak like other men. Hence he is perpetually in buskins, replete with circumlocutions and artificial elegance. In every sentence the marks of labour are visible,-no appearance of that ease which expresses a sentiment coming natural and warm from the heart. He abounds with figures and ornament of every kind,-is sometimes happy in them; but his fondness for them is too conspicuous; and having once seized some metaphor or allusion that pleased him, he knows not how to part with it.

He

possessed delicacy and refinement of taste to a degree that may be called excessive and sickly; but he had little warmth of passion; and the coldness of his character suggested that artificial and stately manner which appears in his writings. No author is more dangerous to the tribe of imitators than Shaftesbury, who, amidst several very considerable blemishes, has, at the same time, many dazzling and imposing beauties.

It is very possible, however, for an author to write with simplicity, and yet to be destitute of beauty. He may be free from affectation, and not have merit. The beautiful simplicity supposes an author in possession of real genius, and capable of writing with solidity, purity, and brilliancy of imagination. In this case, the simplicity of his manner is the crowning ornament; it gives lustre to every other beauty; it is the dress of nature, without which all beauties are

but imperfect. But if the mere absence of affec tation were sufficient to constitute the beauty of style, weak and dull writers might often have pretensions to it. A distinction, therefore, must be made, between that simplicity which accompanies true genius, and which is entirely compatible with every proper ornament of style, and that which is the effect only of carelessness and inattention.

Another character of style, different from those which have been already mentioned, is the vehement. This always supposes strength, and is not, in any respect, incompatible with simplicity. It is distinguished by a peculiar ardour; it is the language of a man whose imagination and passions are glowing and impetuous. With a negligence of lesser graces, he pours himself forth with the rapidity and plenitude of a torrent. The vehement belongs to the higher kinds of oratory; and is rather expected from a man who is speaking, than from one who is writing in his closet. Demosthenes is the most full and perfect example of this species of style.

Having determined and explained the different characters of style, we shall conclude our observations with a few directions for the attainment of excellence in writing.

The first direction proper to be observed is, to study clear ideas on the subject concerning which we are to write or to speak. What we conceive clearly and feel strongly we shall naturally express with clearness and with strength.. We should, therefore, think closely on the subject, till we have attained a full and distinct view of the matter which we are to clothe in words,-till we become warm and interested in

it; then, and then only, shall we find a proper expression begin to flow.

In the second place, to the acquisition of a good style, the frequency of composing is indispensably requisite. But it is not every kind of composing which will improve style. By a careless and hasty habit of writing, a bad style will be acquired; more trouble will afterwards be necessary to unlearn faults, and correct negligence, than to endeavour, from a state of entire ignorance, to become acquainted with the first rudiments of composition. In the beginning, therefore, we ought to write with deliberation and with care. Facility and speed are the fruit of practice and experience. 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 we employ. On certain occasions, there is a glow of composition which must be kept up, if we expect to express ourselves happily, though at the expence of some inaccuracies. A more severe examination must be the work of correction. What we have written should be laid by for some time, till the ardour of composition be subsided, till the partiality for our expressions be weakened, and the expressions themselves be forgotten; and then examining our work with a cool and critical eye, as if it were the performance of another, we shall discover many imperfections which at first escaped our notice.

In the third place, an acquaintance with the style of the best authors is peculiarly requisite. Hence a just taste will be formed, and a copious fund be supplied, of words on every subject. No exercise, perhaps, will be found more

useful for acquiring a proper style than to translate some passage from an elegant author into our own words. Thus, to take, for instance, a page of one of Mr. Addison's Spectators, and read it attentively two or three times, till we are in full possession of the thoughts it contains; then to lay aside the book, to endeavour to write out the passage from memory, as well as we can,-and then to compare what we have written with the style of the author. Such an exercise will, by comparison, show us our own defects; will teach us to correct them; and, from the variety of expression which it will exhibit, will conduct us to that which is most beautiful and perfect.

In the fourth place, a caution must be given against a servile imitation of any one author whatever. A desire of imitating hampers genius, and generally produces a stiffness of expression. They who follow an author minutely commonly copy his faults as well as his beauties. No one will ever become an accomplished writer or speaker who has not some confidence in his own genius. We ought carefully to avoid using any author's particular phrases, or transcribing passages from him: such an habit will be fatal to all genuine composition. It is much better to possess something of our own, though of inferior beauty, than to endeavour to shine in borrowed ornaments, which will, at last, betray the utter barrenness of our genius.

In the fifth place, it is a plain but important. rule, with regard to style, that we always endeavour to adapt it to the subject, and likewise to the capacity of our hearers, if we are to speak in public. To attempt a poetical, florid style,

when it should be our business only to argue and reason, is in the highest degree awkward and absurd. To speak with elaborate pomp of words, before those who cannot comprehend them, is equally ridiculous and useless. When we begin to write or speak, we should previously impress on our minds a complete idea of the end to be aimed at; keep this steadily in view, and adapt our style to it.

We must, in the last place, recommend, that an attentive regard to style do not occupy us sọ much, as to detract from a higher degree of attention to the thoughts. This rule is the more necessary, since the present taste of the age seems to be directed more to style than to thought. It is much more easy to dress up trifling and common thoughts with some ornament of expression, than to afford a fund of vigorous, ingenious, and useful sentiments. The latter requires genius; the former may be attained by industry, with the aid of very superficial parts. Hence the crowd of writers who are rich in words, but poor in sentiments. Custom obliges us not to be inattentive to the ornaments of style, if we wish that our labours should 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 who does not regard ornament as a secondary and inferior recommendation.

With respect to the figures of Rhetoric with which style is so much invigorated and embellished, See page 180.

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