might otherwise have supported a respectable character. The style of each of those writers, excellent as it may be in its way, exhibits numerous faults: but whatever may be its beauties, no man of letters will ever obtain much distinction by imitating it with servile accuracy. We generally find their deformities more faithfully copied than their beauties. On these heads of composing, reading, and imitating, it may be proper to advise every student of oratory to consult what Quinctilian has delivered in the tenth book of his Institutions; where he will find a variety of excellent observations and directions.

Those who are ambitious of attaining a beautiful style, ought to read with attention the works of the most eminent poets. From this source is often derived a more delicate and elevated mode of expression, as well as of thinking. We find that the most excellent prose writers, both of ancient and modern times, are those who, during some part of their life, have applied themselves to the study of poetry.

It is an obvious but material rule, that we always study to adapt our style to the subject, and also to the capacity of our hearers, if we are to speak in public. Nothing merits the name of eminent or beautiful, which is not suited to the occasion, and to the persons to whom it is addressed. It is to the last degree awkward and absurd, to adopt a florid poetical style on occasions when it should be our sole busines to argue and reason; or to speak with elaborate pomp of expression, before persons who are unable to comprehend our meaning,

"It happens, unfortunately," as Dr. Whately has remarked, "that Johnson's style is particularly easy of imitation, even by writers utterly destitute of his vigour of thought; and such imitators are intolerable. They bear the same resemblance to their model, that the armour of the Chinese, as described by travellers, consisting of thick quilted cotton covered with stiff glazed paper, does to that of the ancient knights; equally glittering, bulky, and cumbersome, but destitute of the temper and firmness which was its sole advantage." (Elements of Rhetoric.)

+"Sed omnis loquendi elegantia, quanquam expolitur scientia literarum, tamen augetur legendis oratoribus et poetis." (Cicero de Oratore, lib. iii. cap. x.) "As the poets," says Dr. Lawson, " abound most in figures, it might be fit that all who mean to excel in eloquence should, at least in their youth, be conversant in their writings." (Lectures concerning Oratory, Delivered in Trinity College, Dublin, p. 268. 3d, edit.)

and who can only stare at our unseasonable magniloquence. We might with as much propriety speak in an unknown tongue. These are defects not so much in style as in common sense. When we begin to write or speak, we ought previously to have fixed in our minds a clear conception of the end to which our chief attention is to be directed. This end we ought to keep steadily in view, and to it we ought to adapt our style. If we do not sacrifice to this great object every ill-timed ornament which may occur to our fancy, we betray a want of judgment. I cannot conclude the subject without this observation, that in any case, and on any occasion, attention to style must not engross us so much, as to interfere with a higher degree of attention to the thoughts. To your expression be attentive; but about your matter be solicitous.

EXAMPLES

ILLUSTRATING

THE PROGRESS OF THE ENGLIS!! STYLE

ROGER ASCHAM,

b. 1515, d. 1568.

I DOE gladly agree with al good scholemasters in these points: to haue children brought to good perfectnes in lerning; to all honesty in manners; to haue all faults rightly amended; to haue euery vice seuerely corrected; but for the order and way that leadeth rightly to these poynts, we somewhat differ. For commonly, many scholemasters, some, as I haue seene, mo, as I haue heard tell, be of so crooked a nature, as, when they meete with a hard witted scholler, they rather break him, then bow him, rather mar him, then mende him. For, when the scholemaster is angry with some other matter, then will he soonest fall to beate his scholler; and though he him selfe should be punished for his folly, yet must he beat some scholler for his pleasure, though there be no cause for him to do so, nor yet fault in the scholler to deserue so. These, ye will say, be fond scholemasters, and few they be that be found to be such. They be fond in deede, but surely ouer many such be found euery where. But this will I say, that euen the wisest of your great beaters do as oft punish nature as they doe correct faultes. Yea, many times the better nature is sorer punished: for if one, by quicknesse of wit, take his lesson readely, an other, by hardnes of wit, taketh it not so speedely, the first is alwayes commended, the other is commonly punished, when a wise scholemaster should rather discreetly consider the right disposition of both their natures, and not so much wey what either of them is able to do now, as what either of them is likely to doe hereafter. For this I know, not only by reading of bookes in my study, but also by experience of life abroad in the world, that those which be commonly the wisest, the best learned, and best men also, when they be old, were neuer commonly the quickest of wit when they were young. The causes why, amongest other, which be many, that moue me thus to thinke,

be these few, which I will recken. Quick wittes commonly be apt to tak, vnapt to keepe; soone hote, and desirous of this and that, as colde and soon wery of the same again; more quick to enter speedely, then able to pearce far; euen like our sharp tooles, whose edges be very soone turned. Such wittes delight themselues in easie and pleasant studies, and neuer pas forward in high and hard scyences. And therefore the quickest wittes commonly may proue the best poets, but not the wisest orators; ready of tongue to speake boldly, not deep of iudgement, either for good counsell or wise writing. Also, for manner and life, quick wittes commonly be in desire newfangled, in purpose vnconstant; light to promise any thing, redy to forget euery thing, both benefite and iniury, and therby neither fast to frend, nor fearful to foe; inquisitiue of every trifle; not secret in greatest affaires; bold with any person; busy in euery matter; soothing such as be present; nipping any that is absent; of nature also, alwayes flattering their betters, enuying their equals, despysing their inferyors, and, by quicknes of wit, very quick and ready to like none so well as themselues.-(The Scholemaster.)

SIR WALTER RALEIGH,

b. 1552, d. 1613

If we seeke a reason of the succession and continuance of this boundlesse ambition in mortall men, we may adde to that which hath been alreadie said, that the kings and princes of the world have alwaies laid before them the actions; but not the ends of those great ones which preceded them. They are alwayes transported with the glorie of the one, but they never minde the miserie of the other, till they finde the experience in themselves. They neglect the advice of God, while they enjoy life, or hope it; but they follow the counsell of Death, upon his first approach. It is he, that puts into man all the wisedome of the world, without speaking a word; which God with all the words of his law, promises, or threats, doth infuse. Death, which hateth and destroyed man, is beleeved; God, which hath made him, and loves him, is alwaies deferred. "I have considered (saith Salomon) all the workes that are under the sunne, and behold, all is vanitie and vexation of spirit:" but who beleeves it till Death tels it us? It was Death which, opening the conscience of Charles the fift, made him enjoyne his sonne Philip to restore Navarre; and King Francis the first of France, to command that justice should be done upon the murderers of the Protestants in Merindol and Cabrieres, which till then he neglected. It is therefore Death alone that can suddenly make man to know himselfe. He tels the proud and insolent, that they are but abjects, and humbles them at the instant; makes them crie, complaine, and repent; yea, even to hate their forepassed happinesse. He takes the account of the rich, and proves him a beggar; a naked beggar, which hath interest in nothing, but in the gravell that fils his mouth. He holds a glasse before the