a just proportion, a harmony, a fitness of parts in whatever may be under consideration. And it will generally be found that the same style which is approved in the one, will be approved in the other Arts also; and the power of appreciating excellence in one having been attained, will, by developing the faculties of discrimination, and raising the standard of true Taste, assist in cultivating a general Taste capable, to a certain extent, of being applied, when required, to any objects presented. It may, for instance, be generally expected that a person who is fond of tropes and figures, and what is often termed fine language, or flowery eloquence, will also give the preference to the Corinthian capitals, or the later florid style of Gothic Architecture, with its flamboyant windows and richly carved mouldings; while another, who gives the preference to Addison and Hume, instead of Johnson and Gibbon, as models of style in Literature, will be far more likely to give the palm to the earlier Gothic edifices, where the great harmony of the whole is less disturbed by the elaborate development of single parts; or to point with admiration to where "in simplest grandeur stands a Dorian Fane."

Having then made these few and hasty remarks on Taste in general, let us apply the subject more particularly to Literature; and this, more especially, because it may be more practically useful: the means of improving our Taste, and raising our judgment of the Beautiful and True to a more correct standard, being, in this department of Art, more easily accessible to all.

66

It was a saying of that wily diplomatist, Talleyrand, that, 'speech was given us in order that we might be able to conceal our thoughts." Without entering upon the duties of diplomatic reserve, certainly, ordinarily considered, the use of words and language, whether written or spoken, is intended to assist us in making manifest thought, and conveying information. And if that be so, care should be taken that, in composition, that end be effected; that, whatever be the subject, or whatever the style, it should be clear and intelligible, from the right use of words, true grammatical construction, and proper formation of sentences. That, supposing there be something which is intended to be told, that we have some information to communicate, it should be done in a manner capable of being understood.

With respect to the right use of words, people of imperfect education, who affect fine language, often make sad blunders. This has been broadly ridiculed by Shakspeare and other dramatic writers, in the characters of Dogberry, Mrs. Malaprop, and the like. But, without offending to such an extent, more careful persons often write and express themselves loosely, confounding words in common use, but of widely different meaning, such, for example, as secure and safe; since a person may be quite safe, liable to no danger, and yet not secure, free from all apprehension; and vice versa, he may feel quite secure, when really least safe. So again Pride and Vanity are often spoken of as if they were synonymous, or almost necessarily developed in the same character; whereas a really proud person is hardly ever vain, nor a vain one proud. A proud person thinks so highly of himself, that he is perfectly indifferent to what the rest of the world think of him. A vain man is timidly solicitous for the applause of others because he does not feel really proud and self-satisfied. Then, there is great care required in the use and proper location of pronouns; most useful parts of speech, when rightly applied, but making sad confusion and nonsense, when out of place. careful and elegant a writer as Addison is not always free from censure, as Blair remarks, in this respect. Thus in the Spectator, No. 412, he writes, "We no-where meet with a more glorious and pleasing show in nature, than what appears in the heavens at the rising and setting of the Sun, which is wholly made up of those different stains of light, that shew themselves in clouds of a different situation." Which is here designed to connect with the word show; as its antecedent; but it stands so wide from it, that without a careful attention to the sense, we should be naturally led, by the rules of syntax, to refer it to the rising and setting of the Sun, or to the Sun itself; and hence an indistinctness is thrown over the whole sentence. The following passage in one of Bishop Sherlock's sermons is still more censurable: "It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, by heaping up treasures, which nothing can protect us against, but the good providence of our Heavenly Father."-Which, the relative pronoun, always refers, grammatically, to the immediately preceding substantive,

So

which here is treasures; but this would make nonsense of the whole period. The sentence ought to have stood thus: "It is folly to pretend, by heaping up treasures, to arm ourselves against the accidents of life, which nothing can protect us against, but the good providence of our heavenly Father."

Metaphors, similies, and the like figures of speech are often of great force and beauty; but they must be well sustained and appo~ site, or they only create confusion, and appear ridiculous. For instance, when we read in the Spectator, that, "there is not a single view of human nature, which is not sufficient to extinguish the seeds of Pride:" observe the incoherence of the things here joined together, making a view extinguish, and extinguish seeds.

The use of the parenthesis is always to be avoided, if possible; and is hardly ever really necessary; it weakens the force of a sentence, and renders it less distinct. Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, says: "Johnson's attention to precision and clearness in expression was very remarkable. He disapproved of a parenthesis; and, I believe, in all his voluminous writings not half-a-dozen of them will be found."

But perhaps few things are of more importance than the structure of the sentence; not only to have them grammatically formed, and full of words rightly applied, but the whole put together in a pleasing and intelligible manner.. The sentences should not be all uniform, as that creates a wearisome monotony; nor too long, as then they are apt to become obscure. Clarendon, in his great work on "The Rebellion," errs sadly in the length of his sentences; which must make it a very fatiguing book to read aloud. Milton, in his work on "The Reformation," makes the second sentence run into 29 folio lines, divided into nearly as many members. Hammond, one of our most learned Divines, exceeds terribly in the length of his sentences. What would you think of my commencing a Sermon, as he once did, with such a compact little sentence as the following? "There is not, I conceive, any piece of divinity more unluckily "mistaken, more inconveniently corrupted by the passions and “lusts of a man, made more instrumental to their foulest purposes, "than that of the promises of Christ; whether by giving them the

46

66

แ

" enclosure and monopoly of our faith, the commands of Christ "and the threats of Christ, which have as much right to be believed as they, His kingly and prophetic office, to which he was as par"ticularly anointed as to that of our priest, being for the most part set aside as unnecessary, and by many steps and degrees at last "not only left quite out of our faith, but withal fallen under our 'envy, become matter of quarrel against any that shall endeavour "to obtrude them not only so impertinently, but so dangerously, "either on our gospel, or on our practice,—or whether again by 46 persuading ourselves and others that the promises of Christ are 66 particular and absolute, confined to some few, and to those howsoever they be qualified; when the whole harmony and contexture "of Christian doctrine proclaims directly the contrary, that they are general and conditional, a picture that looks every man in "the face that comes into the room, but cannot be imagined to eye any man else, unrestrained to all so they shall perform the condi“tion, those diffusive store-houses sealed up against all who do not "perform it." And this is only one of many consecutive similar

66

66

sentences.

But it is very possible occasionally to introduce a lengthened sentence with good effect, where a leading idea is carefully kept in view; and when it is followed by shorter ones it affords a grateful relief to the ear. Thus Bishop Jebb, whose style is always chaste, correct, and pleasing, and often eloquent, speaking of the call of Abraham says:66 The generous patriarch obeyed. "Without a murmur or a doubt, he forsook his country, because "his country was forsaking God. The endearing recollections of "childhood; the chosen companions of his youth; the long che"rished habits of age; his plans of future activity; his prospects of "future enjoyment; his country, that name, which embraces all the “charities of life, which no adventurer thinks of, in a distant land, "without a fond hope that he may at length revisit those scenes, "which he never can forget; his father's house,—that residence of "purity and innocence and unreserved affection, which we love to ' recall, amid the cares and competitions of a selfish world, which "awakens in prodigals themselves the embers of their early virtue;"all were insufficient to warp his steady purpose; all were incom

66

petent to shake his holy resolution. God had promised, and "Abraham believed. God had called, and Abraham obeyed.-He "therefore became a voluntary outcast. He therefore traversed regions that he had not seen, to reach a country which he did not "know. Assured that, in all regions, God would be his guide and "protector. Assured that his posterity should flourish in the "promised land."

To go, however, into any particulars respecting styles of writing, under the various heads under which they have been classed,sublime, pathetic, diffuse, concise, feeble, nervous, plain, elegant, flowery, &c., would be far beyond the limits now afforded us. But since, as I have observed, the communication of knowledge, the imparting new ideas, is the object to be kept in view, this must not be lost sight of, because of any satisfaction imparted to the ear, either by the musical structure of the sentence, or the use of mellifluous or imposing words. A grandiloquent florid style of composition often meets with many admirers, who would probably be puzzled for a reply, if they were to be asked, what ideas they had gained from what they had heard? though they might not perhaps feel all the humility, which Southey, in his curious, and most interesting work, "The Doctor," ascribes to "a woman in humble life; who, on being asked on the way back from church, whether she had understood the sermon which a stranger had preached, and which had been both a long and abstruse one, gave as her simple and contented answer, 'wud I hae the presump tion?" Dr. Johnson has much to answer for in exciting a taste for a grandiloquent style; but then his was not mere verbiage; he had abundance of matter. Dr. Johnson has been supposed, with some reason I believe, to have formed his style after the model of Sir Thos. Brown, from whose works he quotes continually in his Dictionary. Brown wrote on "Vulgar errors," and also other works; where such sentences as these occur:- Scintillations are "not the accension of the air upon the collision of two hard bodies, "but rather the inflammable effluences discharged from the bodies "collided." And again, "Ice is figured in its guttulous descent "from the air, and grows greater or lesser, according unto the "accretion or pluvious aggelation about the mother and fundamen

66