way of writing, enter into their thoughts, and imbibe their fenfe. There is no need of tying ourselves up to an imitation of any of them; much less to copy or transcribe them. For there is room for vait variety of thought and style; as nature is various in her works, and is nature still. Good authors, like the celebrated masters in the feveral schools of painting, are originals in their way, and different in their manner. And when we can make the same use of the Romans as they did of the Grecians, and habituate ourselves to their way of thinking and writing, we may be equal in rank, though different from them all, and be esteemed originals as well as they.

And this is what I would have you do. Mix and incorporate with those ancient ftreams; and though your own wit will be improved and heightened by such a strong infufion, yet the spirit, the thought, the fancy, the expreffion, which shall flow from your pen, will be entirely your own.

Felton.

88. The Method of Schools vindicated.

It has been a long complaint in this polite and excellent age of learning, that we lofe our time in words; that the memory of youth is charged and overloaded with out improvement; and all they learn is mere cant and jargon for three or four years together. Now, the complaint is in fome measure true, but not easily remedied; and perhaps, after all the exclamation of fo much time loft in mere words and terms, the hopeful youths, whose lofs of time is so much lamented, were capable of learning nothing but words at those years. I do not mind what fome quacks in the art of teaching fay; they pretend to work wonders, and to make young gentlemen masters of the languages, before they can be masters of common sense; but this to me is a demonstration, that we are capable of little else than words, till twelve or thirteen, if you will observe, that a boy shall be able to repeat his grammar over, two or three years before his understanding opens enough to let him into the reason and clear apprehenfion of the rules; and when this is done, fooner or later, it ceaseth to be cant and jargon: fo that all this clamour is wrong founded, and the cause of complaint lies rather against the backwardness of our judgment, than the method of our schools. And therefore I am for the old way in chools fill, and children will be furnished

§ 89. Commendation of Schools.

I am very far from having any mean, thoughts of those great men who prefide in our chiefeft and most celebrated schools; it is my happiness to be known to the most eminent of them in a particular manner, and they will acquit me of any disrespect, where they know I have the greatest veneration; for with them the genius of classic learning dwells, and from them it is derived. And I think myself honoured in the acquaintance of fome masters in the country, who are not less polite than they are learned, and to the exact knowledge of the Greek and Roman tongues, have joined a true taste, and delicate relish of the claffic authors. But should you ever light into fome formal hands, though your fenfe is too fine to relish those pedantries I have been remonftrating against, when you come to understand them, yet for the present they may impose upon you with a grave appearance; and, as learning is commonly managed by such perfons, you may think them very learned, because they are very dull: and if you should receive the tincture while you are young, it may fink too deep for all the waters of Helicon to take out. You may be sensible of it, as we are of ill habits, which we regret but cannot break, and so it may mix with your studies for ever, and give bad colours to every thing you design, whether in speech or writing.

For these meaner critics dress up their entertainments so very ill, that they will spoil your palate, and bring you to a vicious taste. With them, as with distempered ftomachs, the finest food and noblest juices turn to nothing but crudities and indigeftion. You will have no notion of delicacies, if you table with them; they are all for rank and foul feeding; and spoil the best provifions in the cooking; you must be content to be taught parfimony in sense, and for your most inoffenfive food to live upon dry meat and infipid stuff, without any poignancy or relish.

So then these gentlemen will never be able to form your taste or your style; and those who cannot give you a true relish of the best writers in the world, can never instruct you to write like them.

$90. On forming a Style.

Give me leave to touch this subject, and draw out, for your use, some of the chief strokes, fome of the principal lineaments, and fairest features, of a just and beautiful style. There is no necessity of being methodical, and I will not entertain you with a dry system upon the matter, but with what you will read with more pleasure, and, I hope, with equal profit, some defultory thoughts in their native order, as they rise in my mind, without being reduced to rules, and marshalled according to art.

To assist you, therefore, as far as art may be an help to nature, I shall proceed to say something of what is required in a finished piece, to make it complete in all its parts, and masterly in the whole.

I would not lay down any impracticable schemes, nor trouble you with a dry formal method: the rule of writing, like that of our duty, is perfect in its kind; but we must make allowances for the infirmities of nature; and since none is without his faults, the most that can be said is, That he is the best writer, against whom the fewest can be alledged.

" A composition is then perfect, when "the matter rises out of the subject; " when the thoughts are agreeable to the " matter, and the expreffions fuitable to the "thoughts; where there is no inconfiftency from the beginning to the end; when "the whole is perfpicuous in the beautiful " order of its parts, and formed in due " symmetry and proportion."

Felton.

$91. Expreffion fuited to the Thought.

In every sprightly genius, the expression will be ever lively as the thoughts. All the danger is, that a wit too fruitful should run out into unnecessary branches; but when it is matured by age, and corrected by judgment, the writer will prune the luxuriant boughs, and cut off the superfluous shoots of fancy, thereby giving both strength and beauty to his work.

Perhaps this piece of difcipline is to young writers the greatest self-denial in the world: to confine the fancy, to ftifle the birth, much more to throw away the beautiful offspring of the brain, is a trial, that none but the most delicate and lively wits can be put to. It is their praise, that they are obliged to retrench more wit than others have to lavish: the chippings and filings of these jewels, could they be pre

served, are of more value than the whole mass of ordinary authors; and it is a maxim with me, that he has not wit enough, who has not a great deal to spare.

It is by no means necessary for me to run out into the several forts of writing: we have general rules to judge of all, without being particular upon any, though the style of an orator be different from that of an hiftorian, and a poet's from both. Ibid.

§ 92. On Embellishments of Style. The defign of expreffion is to convey our thoughts truly and clearly to the world, in such a manner as is most probable to attain the end we propose, in communicating what we have conceived to the public; and therefore men have not thought it enough to write plainly, unless they wrote agree. ably, so as to engage the attention, and work upon the affections, as well as inform the understanding of their readers: for which reason, all arts have been invented to make their writings pleasing, as well as profitable; and those arts are very commendable and honeft; they are no trick, no delufion, or imposition on the senses and understanding of mankind; for they are founded in nature, and formed upon observing her operations in all the various passions and workings of our minds.

To this we owe all the beauties and embellishments of style; all figures and schemes of speech, and those several decorations that are used in writings to enliven and adorn the work. The flourishes of fancy resemble the flourishes of the pen in mechanic writers; and the illuminators of manuscripts, and of the press, borrowed their title perhaps from the illumination which a bright genius every where gives to his work, and disperses through his composition.

The commendation of this art of enlightening and adorning a subject, lies in a right diftribution of the shades and light. It is in writing, as in picture, in which the art is to observe where the lights will fall, to produce the most beautiful parts to the day, and cast in shades what we cannot hope will shine to advantage.

It were endless to pursue this subject through all the ornaments and illuftrations of speech; and yet I would not difmiss it without pointing at the general rules and necessary qualifications required in those who would attempt to shine in the productions of their pen. And therefore

you

you must pardon me if I seem to go back, for we cannot raise any regular and durable pile of building without laying a firm Foundation. Felton.

§ 93. On the first Requisite, a Mastery of Language.

The first thing requifite to a just style, is a perfect mastery in the language we write in; this is not so easily attained as is commonly imagined, and depends upon a competent knowledge of the force and propriety of words, a good natural tafte of strength and delicacy, and all the beauties of expreffion. It is my own opinion, that all the rules and critical observations in the world will never bring a man to a juft style, who has not of himself a natural eafy way of writing; but they will improve a good genius, where nature leads the way, provided he is not too fcrupulous, and does not make himself a slave to his rules; for that will introduce a stiffness and affecta. tion, which are utterly abhorrent from all good writing.

By a perfect mastery in any language, I understand not only a ready command of words, upon every occafion, not only the force and propriety of words as to their fenfe and fignification, but more espe. cially the purity and idiom of the language; for in this a perfect mastery does coniift. It is to know what is English, and what is Latin, what is French, Spanish, or Italian, to be able to mark the bounds of each language we write in, to point out the diftinguishing cha. racters, and the peculiar phrases of each tongue; what expreffions or manner of ex-preting is common to any language besides our own, and what is properly and peculiarly our phrafe, and way of speaking. For this is to speak or write English in purity and perfection, to let the streams run clear and unmixed, without taking in other languages in the course: in English, therefore, I would have all Gallicisms (for instance) avoided, that our tongue may be fincere, that we may keep to our own language, and not follow the French mode in our speech, as we do in our cloaths. It is convenient and profitable sometimes to import a foreign word, and naturalize the phrafe of another nation, but this is very (paringly to be allowed; and every fyllable of foreign growth ought immediately to be discarded, if its use and ornament to our language be not very evident.

X

Ibid.

While the Romans studied and used the Greek tongue, only to improve and adorn their own, the Latin flourished, and grew every year more copious, more elegant, and expressive; but in a few years after the ladies and beaux of Rome affected to speak Greek, and regarding nothing but the softness and effeminacy of that noble language, they weakened and corrupted their native tongue: and the monstrous affectation of our travelled ladies and gentlemen to speak in the French air, French tone, French terms, to dress, to cook, to write, to court in French, corrupted at once our language and our manners, and introduced an abominable gallimaufry of French and English mixed together, that made the innovators ridiculous to all men of sense. The French tongue hath undoubtedly its graces and beauties, and I am not against any real improvement of our own language from that or any other; but we are always fso foolish, or unfortunate, as never to make any advantage of our neighbours. We affect nothing of theirs, but what is filly and ridiculous; and by neglecting the substantial use of their language, we only enervate and spoil our own.

Languages, like our bodies, are in a perpetual flux, and stand in need of recruits to supply the place of those words that are continually falling off through disuse: and since it is so, I think 'tis better to raise them at home than abroad. We had bet ter rely on our own troops than foreign forces, and I believe we have fufficient strength and numbers within ourselves: there is a vast treasure, an inexhaustible fund in the old English, from whence authors may draw constant supplies, as our officers make their surest recruits from the coal-works and the mines. The weight, the strength, and fignificancy of many antiquated words, should recommend them to use again. 'Tis only wiping off the ruft they have contracted, and separating them from the dross they lie mingled with, and both in value and beauty they will rife above the standard, rather than fall below it.

Perhaps our tongue is not so musical to the ear, nor so abundant in multiplicity of words; but its ftrength is real, and its words are therefore the more expressive: the peculiar character of our language is, that it is close, compact, and full; and

our

our writings (if you will excuse two Latin words) come nearest to what Tully means by his Preffa Oratio. They are all weight and substance, good measure pressed together, and running over in a redundancy of fenfe, and not of words. And therefore the purity of our language confifts in preserving this character, in writing with the English strength and spirit: let us not envy others, that they are more foft, and diffuse, and rarified; be it our commendation to write as we pay, in true Sterling; if we want supplies, we had better revive old words, than create new ones. I look upon our language as good bullion, if we do not debafe it with too much allay; and let me leave this censure with you, That he who corrupteth the purity of the English tongue with the most specious foreign words and phrafes, is just as wife as those modish ladies that change their plate for china; for which I think the laudable traffic of old cloaths is much the fairest barter.

Felton.

§ 95. On Plainness and Perfpicuity.

After this regard to the purity of our language, the next quality of a just style, is its plainness and perfpicuity. This is the greatest commendation we can give an author, and the best argument that he is mafter of the language he writes in, and the fubject he writes upon, when we understand him, and see into the scope and tendency of his thoughts, as we read him. All obscurity of expreffion, and darkness of sense, do arise from the confufion of the writer's thoughts, and his want of proper words. If a man hath not a clear perception of the matters he undertakes to treat of, be his style never so plain as to the words he uses, it never can be clear; and if his thoughts upon this subject be never so just and diftinét, unless he has a ready command of words, and a faculty of easy writing in plain obvious expressions, the words will perplex the sense, and cloud the clearness of his thoughts.

It is the unhappiness of some, that they are not able to express themselves clearly: their heads are crowded with a multiplicity of undigested knowledge, which lies confused in the brain, without any order or distinction. It is the vice of others, to affect obfcurity in their thoughts and language, to write in a difficult crabbed style, and perplex the reader with an intricate meaning in more intricate words.

The common way of offending against

plainness and perfpicuity of style, is an affectation of hard unusual words, and of close contracted periods: the faults of pedants and fententious writers! that are vainly oftentatious of their learning, or their wisdom. Hard words and quaint expressions are abominable: wherever you meet such a writer, throw him afide for a coxcomb. Some authors of reputation have used a short and concise way of expreffion, I must own; and if they are not so clear as others, the fault is to be laid on the brevity they labour after: for while we study to be concife, we can hardly avoid being obfcure. We crowd our thoughs into too small a compass, and are so sparing of our words, that we will not afford enow to express our meaning.

There is another extreme in obscure writers, not much taken notice of, which some empty conceited heads are apt to run into out of a prodigality of words, and a want of sense. This is the extravagance of your copious writers, who lose their meaning in the multitude of words, and bury their sense under heaps of phrases. Their understanding is rather rarified than condensed: their meaning, we cannot fay, is dark and thick; it is too light and fubtle to be difcerned: it is spread so thin, and diffused so wide, that it is hard to be collected. Two lines would express all they say in two pages: 'tis nothing but whipt fyllabub and froth, a little varnish and gilding, without any folidity or fubstance. Ibid.

$96. On the Decorations and Ornaments

of Style.

The deepest rivers have the plainest furface, and the purest waters are always cleareft. Crystal is not the less solid for being transparent; the value of a style rises like the value of precious stones. If it be dark and cloudy, it is in vain to polish it: it bears its worth in its native looks, and the fame art which enhances its price when it is clear, only debases it if it be dull

You see I have borrowed some metaphors to explain my thoughts; and it is, I believe, impossible to describe the plainness and clearness of style, without fome expressions clearer than the terms I am otherwise bound up to use.

You must give me leave to go on with you to the decorations and ornaments of style: there is no inconfiftency between the plainness and perfpicuity, and the ornament of writing. A ftyle resembleth beauty,

beauty, where the face is clear and plain as to symmetry and proportion, but is capable of wonderful improvements, as to features and complexion. If I may tranfgress in too frequent allusions, because I would make every thing plain to you, I would pass on from painters to ftatuaries, whose excellence it is at first to form true and just proportions, and afterwards to give them that softness, that expreffion, that ftrength and delicacy, which make them almost breathe and live.

The decorations of style are formed out of those several schemes and figures, which are contrived to express the passions and motions of our minds in our speech; to give life and ornament, grace and beauty, to our expreffions. I shall not undertake the rhetorician's province, in giving you an account of all the figures they have invented, and those several ornaments of writing, whose grace and commendation lie in being used with judgment and propriety. It were endless to pursue this subject through all the schemes and illustra tions of speech: but there are some common forms, which every writer upon every fubject may use, to enliven and adorn his work.

These are metaphor and fimilitude; and those images and representations, that are drawn in the strongest and most lively colours, to imprint what the writer would have his readers conceive, more deeply on their minds. In the choice, and in the ufe of these, your ordinary writers are most apt to offend. Images are very sparingly to be introduced: their proper place is in poems and orations; and their use is to move pity or terror, admiration, compaffion, anger, and resentment, by reprefenting fomething very affectionate or very dreadful, very aftonishing, very miferable, or very provoking, to our thoughts. They give a wonderful force and beauty to the fubject, where they are painted by a master ly hand; but if they are either weakly drawn, or unskilfully placed, they raise no paffion but indignation in the reader.

Felten.

$97. On Metaphors and Similitudes.

The most common ornaments are Metaphor and Similitude. One is an allufion to words, the other to things; and both have their beauties, if properly applied.

Similitudes ought to be drawn from the most familiar and best known particulars

in the world: if any thing is dark and obscure in them, the purpose of using them is defeated; and that which is not clear itself, can never give light to any thing that wants it. It is the idle fancy of fome poor brains, to run out perpetually into a course of fimilitudes, confounding their fubject by the multitude of likenesses; and making it like so many things, that it is like nothing at all. This trifling humour is good for nothing, but to convince us, that the author is in the dark himself; and, while he is likening his subject to every thing, he knoweth not what it is like.

There is another tedious fault in fome simile men; which is, drawing their comparisons into a great length and minute particulars, where it is of no importance whether the resemblance holds or not. But the true art of illustrating any subject by fimilitude, is, first to pitch on such a resemblance as all the world will agree in : and then, without being careful to have it run on all four, to touch it only in the strongest lines, and the nearest likeness. And this will secure us from all stiffness and formality in fimilitude, and deliver us from the nauseous repetition of as and fo, which fome so so writers, if I may beg leave to call them so, are continually founding in our ears.

I have nothing to say to those gentlemen who bring fimilitudes and forget the resemblance. All the pleasure we can take, when we meet these promising sparks, is in the disappointment, where we find their fancy is so like their subject, that it is not like at all.

§ 98. On Metaphors.

Ibid.

Metaphors require great judgment and confideration in the use of them. They are a shorter fimilitude, where the likeness is rather implied than expressed. The signification of one word, in metaphors, is transferred to another, and we talk of one thing in the terms and propriety of another. But there must be a common resemblance, some original likeness in nature, fome correfpondence and easy tranfition, or metaphors are shocking and confufed.

The beauty of them displays itself in their easiness and propriety, where they are naturally introduced; but where they are forced and crowded, too frequent and various, and do not rife out of the course of thought, but are constrained and pressed into the service, instead of ma ing the dif

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